#but still. he is unclothed in areas
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some goofy lil transparent images of the design I use for N, featuring his design from the Ghost Drone AU (he is tired). These are for future references and things where I just need to casually put one in the corner of something
#zeisty don't post and create challenge impossible#next up i am going to post a long ass prologue i wrote for ghost drone on ao3#this is not a joke#murder drones#ghost drone au#murder drones n#tw nudity#he is a robot so once again it is super doll-like#but still. he is unclothed in areas#also don't @ me i don't know what disassembly drone chests look like#zeisty’s in betweens
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As a person with sexual trauma I actually really Vibe with the Drow Scene at the Brothel with Astarion and I wanna talk about my own experience to show how I relate.
When I'm not the one initiating, all sexual or romantic or intimate contact gets immediately translated into assault by my brain. That means if my partner of 18 years gropes my boob in the morning with a tired, affectionate grab, I may get caught off guard and snap, accusing them of crossing boundaries or otherwise "over" reacting, wherein I have to back peddle as soon as I can back off and secure myself mentally and physically out of reach.
But. If I am in the mood, I will crawl all over my partner, I'll touch, I'll invite touch, everything from gentle to rough- unless I get triggered. If I get triggered, I'll shut down halfway through whatever is going on. Mentally, I'll find myself in an escapist fantasy that is also sexual, change the partner that I'm with or who I am in my head, but my body tends to go kind of numb, I tend to go kind of limp. However,
During these situations, it doesn't always mean I want my partner to stop. It's frustrating for me to have these reactions, but I can get really upset if my partner backs off when I want to see the act "through" even if I'm not "in it". And that becomes a discussion of consent, as well as a really complex mental gymnastics situation where my partner has to decide if they want to continue when I'm kinda checked out, and I have to decide if I want to continue too.
Sometimes if my partner decides to stop because I'm not having fun, I can get angry. At myself, at them. It's not rational, it's angry at "the situation" and not them. Maybe I want to see you finish, but maybe I'll cry afterward.
The point with the Drow and Astarion is he wanted to try,he promised he would dip out if he didn't want to see it through, and he dissociated midway and didn't dip out like he said he would. This is sooooo real. Sometimes I don't want to stop even when I feed Bad and it's going Bad. That's a WHOLE can of worms for sexual trauma survivors and I know some people will resonate with it.
Maybe it'll affect what choices he makes next time. Maybe he won't try an orgy again. Maybe he will, and maybe it'll go bad again, but maybe he wants to explore even when things go bad. Or maybe he will go celibate for two years and not even want your hand on his unclothed skin, but he still wants you to be with him.
I'm just saying it's messy. Sexual trauma is messy. The mental parts and the physical parts. It may make your partner unsure because you switch on a dime, you're unpredictable, some things you want wholeheartedly one moment set you off in the negative the next.
I'd love to see more exploration of how hard his journey with himself could be on Tav, honestly, because people are being SO CAREFUL in their writing with making sure they don't make a single "mistake" in supporting Astarion, and it's sooooo sweet but
Give me messy. Give me grey area. Give me hurt feelings and miscommunication and bad moods and meltdowns. It's realistic, and it's okay to write about these things. //Yes you can reblog this
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LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!
Boxing Day.
1:11am
'Love, I’m knackered', he wearily laughs as he halts my hips from gyrating on his crotch, with his sweaty hands. The contact of his hands on my hips alone only adding to the inferno of lust burning internally.
I look at him, as small pout plastered on my face, oh how fucked out he looks,I think to myself.
'why are you lying like i can't feel how hard you are?', I swiftly lean to down to suck on his lips, my vision blurry with pure lust
'obviously, but we've been at it for half an hour baby and, we’re being too loud Jude just texted me an eggplant emoji', he chuckles.
'can't help it i'm so fucking turned on by you, and all the presents you got me, and how handsome you are and how good you fuck me. But i promise I'll be quiet. Just one more time okay?' I whine seductively into his right ear pulling on his earlobe with my teeth.
He groans, his low eyes following my every movement - contemplating- until his gaze drops down to my naked breasts both perky and erect. Defeated; he leans up on his elbows to peck me, one peck, two pecks, wrapping his hands firmly around my throat like i taught him. You slowly start back grinding, slightly lifting yourself up, in an attmept to discreetly peel the covers from his crotch area.
He groans pulling his wet lips away from yours.
' We really cant...you know how my mum gets, y-you know the respect thing. my dad's different- but you're drunk and sensitive and loud.'
You roll off of his lap now, laying face down on the bed. Pouting
'How about I hump the pillow instead, I bet it'll have *hiccup* more stamina than you.'
He strokes your back, “You're right. Go to bed freaky girl”, after 3 years he knew how to deal with you when you got like that.
Whilst running his hands through my silk pressed hair a couple of times he bids me a 'good night' followed by a kiss on the head. You turn to face so he could see how dissapointed you felt.
15 minutes pass----
You admire his face in the dimly light room. The security light from the garden outside highlights his nose, and those eyebrows - fucking hell - you thought. As much as you loved his family, they were a hindrance.
You could tell he wasn't asleep as he eyes were quite active beneath his lids.
“Can we spoon jobey?” you whisper against his lips.
“Mhm. Turn around.”
You situate your body comfortably, plastering yourself against your big spoon. Your signautre sleeping formation with his muscular, veiny arms underneath your head and his left arms circled round your waist.
Your plump unclothed bottom against his manhood, a feeling that made the millions of microhairs on your body dance.
As he stills, it dawns upon me that this man may actually sleep and then I’ll be desperate and horny - not on Christmas, no way.
His right palm dangles freely infront of my face, I subtly rub my nose side to side along the width of his palm like a curious dog to a bone.
Your lips slightly parted, your warm breathe caressing his fingers, first.
You boldly take the entirety index finger into your mouth tightening your plump lips around it, sucking it. Those fingers had been up you less that an hour ago so you knew where they had been - there was nothing inhibting my full force of sucking.
Your body vibrates as you're boyfriend, after putting on a show for me, just chuckled.
(Internally ) What the fuck is funny????? ummm... nothing. When he's drunk you always lay down the kitty but he's being shy because of what... Jude? Thee slut himself. Like Jude hasn't heard us plenty of times. Like we haven't heard many of Judes sexcapades.
You weren't sleeping tonight until you got something, anything. You got all your presents from Santa today which you were grateful for, but you were in dire need for the most important one.
He humourously rubs my face with his fingers. When he stills his hand, I catch his index and middle finger in my mouth sucking harder, salivating on them. I reach around my waist to grab his left hand giding his fingers through my dripping folds and down to my puslating opening.
'You feel how much I need you, please J', you choke out with anticipation.
He continues rubbing my folds on his own accord, his breathing heavy and audible.
“You’re crazy when you’re drunk you know that' he mutters.
' And you're so damn frigid when you're sober' you muffled back.
He uses the energy of my vim to shove his two fingers further into my mouth, causing me to gag. My pussy jumps. A groan roars from my mouth as this feeling is intensfied with his fingers pressing teasingly into me. He keeps them there, just on the verge of entering.
I'm desperately start humping his hand now, bucking my hips so that his fingers glide in by force.
Both our hands were drenched with the token of my neediness.
'Don't talk like that okay?' he gruffs into my ear. I nod not being able to speak with the fear I may vomit. He takes his soaked fingers - that were pressing at the back of my throat- out of my mouth. My chin dripping with my saliva.
' Do it, come on, stop being like that' i whisper breathily looking over my shoulder.
'Do what ?' he smugly questions as if his hands havent been playing in my pussy the entire time, pulling, pinching, flicking. He acts as if hes clueless.
'Do this?' he swiftly enters me with his fingers, digging into me. I can't help by cry in relief and satisfaction. The strokes begin cursive at first until he start to pump faster and deeper being fuelled by my sounds. I feel my juicues leeking down my legs driving me over the edge. I grab onto his wrist, firmly, so I could grind hard onto his fingers. Like I deserved to.
I whimper feeling myself getting closer.
He raises and moves to situates himself face to face with my sex. His nose skims my bean at first causing me to gasp.
'Wider' he beckons to my thighs. I spread them in the butterfly position. My stomach churning at how exposed I was in this position. My boyfriend reaches forward to kiss me, his fisted arms either side of my head, them he moves back down and leans in to french kiss my clit. I bite my lip hard not wanting to wake his family up.
My eyes roll back, as i hear, feel and see him sloppily sucking on my clit. With passion might i add. The feeling put me in daze, my thights quivering. In no time his fingers hit THE spot and i could swear i was seeing stars on the ceiling.
'uuuggggcc jj-obe' I pornographically moan. My now overly sensitive vagina starts to clench around his fingers. Ireach down from my nipples attempting to pull his head back away from me. But he continues slurping.
The knot in my stomach only intesnfied and i breathe in waiting for this intense wave to flow out of me. He curls his fingers so more causing my back to arch off of the bed.
You feel tears drip from your eyes, you sob, overwhelmed. Your stomach tense. Speaking wasnt happening for me.
'much - tooo much' i force out
He looks up at me from between my dead legs, like a sex drunk demon, the tip of his nose, his lips and chin - glazed with my wetness dripping. He smiles flashing his pearly whites at the state of me.
'its too much?' he softly asks
you nod, drained.
he looks down at the mess that was my pussy, and the bed. staring at her for some time, he flirtatiously looks back at me.
It made me self conscious when he 'admired her' as he liked to call it, but my legs and mind were too weak to protest or close my legs.
'so you dont wanna cum after keeping me up all night baby'.
you shake your head, sheepishly.
He gets up from the bed and your eyes widen, seeing his junior standing up at full attention.
'o-oh im sorry baby, si- sit back down weee, um, can keep going if you want, ok?, come here' you pleaded guilty.
'its okay go to bed darling, ill take care of it - in there'.
he waddles of into the ensuite bathroom, and boom.
you're asleep
----
im so zooted writing this.
#jobe bellingham x black!reader#jobe bellingham x reader#jobe bellingham#wags#boxing day#jude bellingham
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Bad Sans with a Tall Thick S/O I mean tall to the point they are at boob level (idk if this'll apply to horror but she can be at his chest level but she's still tall af)
Sounds like a dream to me- WOAH!!! WHO SAID THAT??!
MASTERLIST
BAD SANSES X READER
THEM BEING AT YOUR BOOB LEVEL
WARNING: Established relationship, suggestive?, Not proofread!
NIGHTMARE:
It isn't the first time he finds himself in this kind of predicament.. and it certainly isn't the last one either.
You can't help but stare down at him in slight concern, yes, that is the Nightmare you're concerned about, but still- he was acting very uncharacteristic. He was just staring at your chest area, almost frozen in spot... "Night? Dear..?" He didn't respond to your voice immediately, gaze still glue to your chest. "Are you feeling ok?" His gaze finally snapped to your face instead, as he blinked a several times. "Sometimes, I wonder if you rile me up on purpose..." He finally slurred out as he coughed a few times, clearing his throat.
You wore a tight fitting dress, that hug your curves perfectly. (I'm leaving the dress completely to your own imagination, except for the tight part! ^^) Maybe, you were wearing this on purpose, but you weren't gonna reveal that. You had quite the fun doing this to Nightmare, he looked like he had a hard time composing himself.
All you did next, was simply leave. Leaving him with his new problem. You flash him a smirk before finally going to your shared room. So that's how it is, well if that's the case, he'll have to go make a punishment for you.
★
KILLER:
"Kills..." Nothing.
"Kiiillls!" Not even a budge.
"GODDAMMIT KILLER!" Ah, finally. He seemed to snap out of his gaze at your boobs. He stared at you wide eyed, as he wiped his mouth from any drool. Yes, that's right, he tends to drool during his stares..
You were wrapped in your towel, holding a pair of pants and a shirt. You've just gotten out of the shower, and Killer decided to go in the bathroom at this moment. It's like he has a radar for this..
You can't help but shake your head at him. "You're always so frozen on the spot during your unmoving gaze at my chest." Killer smirked at your remark, as he grasped your hip. "But you like it...right?" Of course you do.. how can you ever deny him when he gives you his pouting look?
"Don't give me that... I was about to get dressed!" You try to avoid his question, as you remembered that you're still unclothed. Killer's smirk has just gotten wider, if it's even possible. Oh no...looks like this'll be a long night... There goes your relaxation!
★
DUST:
"You're so beautiful..." You can't help but flush at Dust's compliment, as you avert your gaze away from him.
You've just met up with Dust for a date. You're wearing a black dress, while Dust's wearing a tuxedo. How noble.
You giggle a little when you notice how he's trying to refrain from staring at your chest area. He's so considerate.
"S-Something funny, sweetie?" You awe at his nickname, and hold his hand. "You're just so cute... You know, if you want... You can stare." You lean in to whisper the last part to him, ending it with a simple wink. His cheeks flushed purple, as he let out a shuddered sigh
Dust seemed to melt at your consent, almost as if he's been craving it. "Thank you, sweetie, you have no idea how difficult it was..." You giggle yet again, squeezing his hand slightly.
★
HORROR:
Horror beams at you, as you make your way over to him. "What's up bee?" He let out a short laugh at your nickname. He then points to an apron, also motioning to his own, wrapped around him. "You want to cook together?" He excitedly nods, holding a spatula in his hand. "Why not?"
You try to stiffle a giggle when he reaches over to you and holds you up. You'd say you're pretty tall... So you always get baffled when you see Horror's height. There's probably no one, other than the people in his AU, that can rival his height. Everyone probably looks like bugs to him.
"Hey, bee?" He hums, while chopping the meat. "What's the secret to your height?" His movements stopped, as he looked over at you, seemingly confused. "Well...I mean- compared to you, I'm pretty short, and that's saying something, so-" he's so quick that you almost jump when he's suddenly in front of you, holding your cheeks. "...Pretty tall..."are the only words that leaves his mouth, before giving you a kiss.
He skips away happily to the counter, while you sit there, cheeks flared up red, and out of words.
★
Feel like this sucks ngl. But still, hope it's to your liking ^^
#undertale fandom#sans undertale#undertale#sans x reader#horror sans x reader#nightmare sans x reader#dust sans x reader#killer sans x reader
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I was watching one of Gigguk's videos again where he went through anime openings. At some point came Dragonball GT and the opening showed a full frontal of young Goku's penis (censored). Gigguk and his chat had some laughs and words about it.
That reminded me, however, that I and millions of other kids in Germany growing up on anime in the late 90's and early 00's saw plenty of child anime dick on the TV.
Yes, even child Son Goku's and Krilin's dick in Dragonball, Ranma's full tits, one scene with a boy pulling his pants down in front of Chibiusa in Sailor Moon and of course Shin-chan who did the same all the time.
Then of course there were the transformation sequences from Sailor Moon or Digimon 3 with lines giving the crotch areas a clear outline.
There basically wasn't any censoring in anime back then but even on normal TV programs you could and still find unclothed penises and breasts everywhere and that at 11 am.
Just wanted to write this down to show why I roll my eyes when (US American (cultural) Christian) people on the internet get half a heart attack when sth sth anime tiddies.
@olderthannetfic if you're interested in what others grew up with.
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Eyes On Me
Summary: You wouldn't care if they heard. You wouldn't care if they saw. They already know you're in Tech's bunk.
Pairing: Tech x reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, slightly rough sex, clothed male unclothed female, glove kink, exhibitionism, slight pain kink, armor kink, this is absolute filth I am so sorry.
A/N: *Sweats* Uh, did I intend on making most of these about the Batch...not really. I just can't help it. I have no excuse for this one. Please forgive me.
MASTERLIST
The barracks are quiet, aside from the pounding of the rain against the window and the occasional rumble of snoring from Wrecker’s bunk. They’re all tired after a hard series of missions, back on Kamino for a short stay before they ship out again.
You only feel slightly guilty about what you’re doing, only that it might disturb them in their much needed rest. You stare up into those brown eyes above you, his gaze sharp and focused. One arm is looped behind you, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet. His gloved fingers pinch into your cheeks as he muffles your moans, trying not to wake the others.
You wouldn’t care if they heard.
You wouldn’t care if they saw.
The kinds of things that made your pussy clench would make even Crosshair blush.
You, their sweet little medic, laying in Tech’s bunk with his gloved fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. His movements are slow and deliberate, fingers curled into that spot inside you. His armor presses into your side, digging into the dips and curves but you don’t care.
Tech had been the obvious choice for you, his quiet but commanding demeanor was alluring, and you work with him often. He’s eager to learn, and you posed your desires as a learning opportunity. A chance to gain knowledge in an area he had little experience in.
They were all rather looked over when it came to that area, mostly because they didn’t get chances for shore leave often. You were the first woman they had close contact with, which led to some interesting situations in the beginning. None of them had ever approached you with an offer, and you could guess they wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t approached Tech.
You know the others listen sometimes.
You love it.
Tech doesn’t seem to care either, his fingers stilling as he removes his hand from your mouth to tug your breastband up. He covers your mouth again, thrusting his fingers into you faster. You whine against his hand, suddenly aware of how silent the barracks have gotten. Even the rain seemed to stop, making the wet squelch of your pussy all the more noticeable. The lube he’d coated his glove in only made it louder.
Your eyes roll back as he drags the rough fabric covering his palm across your clit, your legs clamping closed as you cum around his fingers. He eases you through your orgasm, your breaths coming in pants from behind his hand. He stills his fingers inside you, holding them there. You continue to flutter around him, squeezing his fingers.
He finally draws them from your aching pussy, the black fabric sticky and coated in your cum. He shifts over you, moving his hand from your mouth. He presses two fingers against your lips and you take them in your mouth. He tastes like metal and plastoid, tangy and bitter on your tongue. You whimper around his fingers as he removes his codpiece with one easy movement, shoving it in the corner of the bunk.
You part your legs further as he opens his blacks, pulling out his cock. He’s hard already, his hand jerking the thick length. Your mouth waters around his fingers, drool slipping out of the corners of your mouth and running down your cheeks. He watches it for a moment before lining himself up.
You moan around his fingers as he presses into you, your pussy already raw and aching from his fingers. The stretch is almost too much, your whimpers loud in the quiet barracks. His fingers press against your tongue, cutting off all noise for a moment. You swallow around his fingers, breaths coming in gasps as he fills you.
The barracks are very quiet. They’re awake. They have to be. There’s no way they could sleep through this, even with Wrecker’s snoring. The thought makes you clench around Tech, his eyes snapping up to your face. He gives you a look, your body relaxing around him, allowing him to press in further.
You’re entirely exposed, the blanket pushed off to the side. Your breastband is up around your armpits, leaving your tits exposed to the cold air in the barracks, and to whomever just happened to look over.
Tech knows this too.
He angles his body just enough if they wanted to see, they could. His hips press flush with yours, his belt pressing into your stomach. His tools bite the inside of your thighs as they press against his sides. He starts to move, dragging his length along your walls. You moan around his fingers, hand sliding to grip the wrist of the hand that’s pressing into the mattress beside you.
His gaze is angled down, recording the way his length slides in and out of your wet pussy. For research, he’d claim. It’s definitely for him to watch later, when it’s harder for you two to get alone time.
“Let her go.”
The voice makes you jump, not expecting it. It’s rough and low, breathy and slightly muffled from the wall between the two bunks. Hunter. He can’t see what you’re doing, but no doubt he’s been able to hear the entire time.
Tech slips his hand from your face, drawing his fingers from your mouth. He snaps his hips into yours, a high pitched whine leaving your lips. It’s downright sinful sounding, putting those girls in those holofilms popular among the clones to shame. You continue to moan loudly as Tech snaps his hips into yours, the sound of your pussy rivaling the sounds coming out of your mouth.
You’re going to cum again and soon.
You hear quiet groans, the sounds of bodies shuffling in bunks. You go to turn your head but Tech grips your jaw, keeping your head still.
“Eyes on me.” He says slowly, his voice low from pleasure.
You want to see. You want to see them, hands in their blacks, watching you get fucked by their squadmate. You keep your eyes glued to Tech’s behind his goggles, arms falling open to give them the best view of your bouncing tits.
Your moans get louder, and for a moment you’re worried anyone walking by might be able to hear. It would be one hell of a reprimanding if you were caught in this position, and you’d likely get reassigned. The guys wouldn’t get much more than a stern talking to. They were too valuable to the Republic to risk decommissioning.
Perhaps that’s what made them so bold.
“Kriff, kriff, kriff!” You curse, crying out Tech’s name as you cum, writhing beneath him. He stills his hips, letting you ride out your orgasm around him. You can hear echoing groans from the others, desperate to turn and look but you know Tech won’t let you. He’ll force your gaze on him and only him. You also know he’s not done.
He’s far from finished with you.
Taglist:
@kaminocasey, @rosechi, @mxkyrie, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka, @rain-on-kamino
#star wars#star wars fic#the bad batch#the bad batch fic#tech x reader#tbb tech x reader#bad batch tech x reader#x reader#the dark side fic
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WereGhost Part 5
Surprise, part 5 :D
I will note Simon's unclothed for a while but there's little to no detail given and it's just for a perfectly SFW bath scene. It's not for any nefarious reasons I promise, he puts some clothes on eventually
I forgot to add this at first and considered if I even needed it but figured just to clarify, it couldn't hurt.
Imagine Simon's surprise, of course, when the very next morning he was awoken from his uneasy sleep hearing a familiar voice. That accent he'd grown far too used to, calling out the silly name he gave Simon on a whim, uttering something about him looking like a ghost story. It got him to wake up, at least, shuffling around to be able to poke his head out of the crevice he'd made a cold rock den out of, eyes wide. Sure enough, on the very edge of the small territory, the edge Simon made sure to rest close to in order for an easy escape, wandered Johnny, calling like he'd lost the family mutt and not what he thought was a wolf.
Except Simon isn't even a wolf, really, he never was. Hell, he only first started learning to shift when he was seven or so. Even now his body isn't lupine in appearance. Staying in that form for months on end while staying with Johnny meant that his body was tired and sore from it. And of course, the only way to offset that was to avoid shifting for a while, enough to remind the body that it's two creatures and not one. He can't help the discomfort that wells in his chest at that fact, glancing down at himself with furrowed brows and tugging an old deer pelt further over his body. It's rare he keeps the pelts, especially with wolfhunts, but they're really all he can get for warmth outside of his canine form.
Still, a greedy, hungry part of his mind grins at the thought that the (frankly stupid) human came to look for him. The dog got out somehow, and Johnny's gone out of his way to get him.
Simon bares his teeth in a grimacing snarl at the thought, nose scrunching as if he can scare it away the same way he might a competitor, if there were still any in the area. The hunts have killed most of his kind nearby off, if they didn't simply decide to leave before it got bad. Simon's only company outside of Johnny, as of late, have been the hares, rabbits, and occasional deer he makes a meal out of. Sometimes even a pheasant or the like if he can catch it, though he finds the meat to not match his tastes.
Maybe that's why he clung to the human like that. Maybe some part of Simon is lonely.
Maybe that's why he reluctantly decides to slip out of his sad excuse for a den.
Not to follow the call; he never did respond to Ghost, fitting as it may have been. He doesn't want to seem like a loyal hound now of all times.
It's mostly to watch Johnny; sit crouched in the grass, covered only in the deer's pelt and the wolf's skull that somehow follows him between the shift when the rest of his clothes become torn and ragged- the real reason he doesn't bother, truthfully, otherwise he'd happily bask in the warmth- watching intently as the human wanders about. It's bitter for a moment, a sour feeling that only deepens the frown etched on Simon's face.
But of course, if life were ever in his favor, Simon wouldn't have monthly hunts deciding which lucky man will be able to hang his pelt on a well, make it into a rug maybe, he would have never waltzed into that bear trap, maybe going by the humans' idea of good luck he would have never been a beast at all, but as fate so has it, he's Simon goddamn Riley, the town's chicken-eating ghost story-
-and Johnny meets his gaze even through the grass. He falls silent, dumbfounded, and it takes Simon a second too long to realize that fact and shift back in a hurry, scrambling backwards with his ears flat and a genuine snarl in his chest hoping that the sound of it might finally force the human's defunct survival instincts to kick into overdrive and not question it, but of course, he steps forward once, and then again, and then before Simon knows it the man's crouched down in front of the opening of his sad little cavern, staring at a familiar monster with raised hackles and bared teeth, tail tucked between his legs in a gesture Simon hasn't made (hasn't needed to make, truly) in years. There's recognition in Johnny's eyes, and he looks tired, like he hasn't slept for a while.
They're both silent, Simon shifting anxiously and trying to back himself further into his hole, hoping that Johnny might get the hint, but no. The idiot, the absolute numbskull he is, reaches his hand forward, knuckles up, to offer it for Simon to sniff. His expression looks so soft that he can't even bring himself to pretend to be aggressive. If Simon were an ignorant man he might just assume it to be acceptance, but he reasons with himself that even if he knows otherwise he can afford a risk, being close to Johnny's size even in this form. So, he hides his teeth once more, fur smoothing down, and leans forward to sniff as expected, grunting softly at the familiar scent.
It's the one he's used to- not flowery and sweet, but warm, given the wild of the forest around him to further add to it. It smells right. He huffs and shakes off, backing off like he might just be stung if he lingers longer, but Johnny isn't having it and reaches over to scratch behind his ear, much to Simon's surprise.
"Dunno what you are..." he murmurs, voice so quiet compared to the desperate, nervous tone it had before.
"I mean- I know you're no good. Townsfolk've done wonders spelling that one out." Simon bristles at the words, then, narrowing his eyes and growling lowly, but is quickly shut up by another hand settling on the ruff of his neck, that one joining in on the soothing scratching that he's only slightly offended by.
"But you could've eaten me, aye? Could've mauled me in my sleep. And you didn't." He finishes, a bit more firmly, gripping Simon's muzzle in both hands and shaking slightly as if to try and emphasize his point. It's enough to get Simon to keep quiet for good, meeting Johnny's gaze for a fleeting moment before he huffs, nudging his snout into the touch for just a split second, and pulls away.
He's been caught, but at the same time, this is the same man that went so far out of his way to make sure he'd heal up. The man who let him sleep in his bed, let him be a nuisance lounging about the house, who came looking for him when he disappeared without a word.
He shakes off, grumbling quietly as he shifts back, clumsy hands going to cover himself with his pelt-blanket once more instead of simply being draped over himself, and turns his gaze down not in a sign of nervousness or fear, but submission. It's been ages since Simon had to submit, the last time being his father before, still a young adolescent, he realized that pack hierarchy meant nothing, that he could challenge it and win if he used his claws and teeth cleverly enough. To do it willingly and not by force? That's new.
Even if Johnny doesn't understand the gesture, the changing is clear enough. Simon is weak in this form- weaker, anyways. His teeth are still sharp, but they don't pack quite the bite, and his claws are thinner and less of an aid. Simon tries not to let his expression shift hearing the hitch in his breath, but tugs the pelt tighter around his body anyways, muttering something more for his own ears than anything.
Eventually Johnny pulls away, and for a moment Simon's mind scrambles to try and figure out what the hell he does from there "you're screwed, it was a trick, run off before he calls the hounds" but again, the man simply stands, and reaches a hand out to try and help Simon up as well. He stares blankly, confused by the gesture, but snorts, shaking his head off, and begrudgingly takes it- stumbling and shaking on two unsteady legs, but eventually settled.
"Do they know your face?" Johnny questions, letting one of his hands drift to rest on Simon's back- to keep him up, no doubt, though he still bares his teeth on instinct, growling at him and lurching slightly. Shockingly, Johnny doesn't budge, only shifting his hand to rest against his shoulder, instead. At that realization, he relaxes just a bit, if only not to waste energy on useless threats, huffing instead.
"I'll take that as a yes, then. Careful it is. Not very chatty, eh?" He laughs, and for a moment Simon falters, glancing up at his face as his own relaxes just the tiniest bit, before his brows furrow again and his gaze drops, grunting quietly in reply as his nose scrunches. Johnny, ever the patient bastard, simply chuckles and rubs at Simon's shoulder, and he can't help the way he leans into the touch, really, it's not his fault.
"Don't even know your name... hope you don't mind if I stick with Ghost." He doesn't. It's familiar, by now- it's been years since he's heard "Simon" from someone else, even from himself, outside of the rare times he mutters it to try and remind himself of what his voice sounds like- of what a voice sounds like, when it's not yelling and whistling and shouting commands. He shakes off the bitter thought, growling softly and leaning up against Johnny. The human is surprised, he can smell it, but doesn't shove him off.
They walk for a while, and Johnny manages to smuggle him into the house without being caught, all while he talks Simon's ear off about the ruckus he caused and what's happened since he left. He doesn't mention the woman- the house doesn't smell like her, but stress and sorrow, instead. Something about the lingering scent, now fading out with the eagerness and happiness sticking to the man, makes Simon feel oddly comfortable. No, not just that- it's pride. The same feeling he gets after a hunt, after establishing his territory as his own, after winning a fight. He's won, here, even if he didn't intend for there to be a fight in the first place.
Johnny tries, for a bit, to find him fitting clothes, but Simon is huge, for lack of a better word, and none of them would really fit. So, he's allowed to linger in all his glory, only decent because of a pelt- not that Simon cares any. Wolves don't wear clothes. He's sure after all this time they'd feel about as comfortable as that trap.
Speaking of which... Johnny reaches for the leg, moving slowly and carefully in what Simon assumes is an attempt to not scare him or trigger his aggression. Reluctantly, he lets him, and the human takes the chance with a pleased little smile, rubbing his fingertips gently along what's now just a scar.
"Healed well, I see. Did you even need me? Never seen a wound that bad scar this fast... now I wonder if I've been tricked by a wolf."
"Would've taken another month without the help." Simon replies, his voice low, more of a growl than anything pleasant on the ears, and he can see the pure shock that crosses his human's face when he hears it. But he doesn't recoil in discomfort or disgust- just laughs and nudges at his knee.
"Well, good to know I wasn't just being used by you... hell, even if I was, I think you do deserve a bit of a chance to be lazy after all these folks have put you through, mm?" Yes, yes that sounds nice. Simon is uneasy for a moment, staring at Johnny's face, before he realizes the man's being genuine, and he allows a soft little snort to leave him.
"You do stink, though. Like mud and old blood..." He murmurs before Simon can give any response. He should probably feel bad or maybe insulted, but he can't muster up anything negative, really.
"Probably last kill. Got a fat rabbit." Simon hums, licking his lips at the memory, suddenly hungry once more, but the thought quickly leaves when he sees Johnny moving again, and he's quick to follow. He doesn't miss the little laugh or the shake of his head, but it seems the topic is done for now as they both set off towards another room in the house.
Johnny decides to set up a bath for him, still complaining about the smell, and Simon has the decency to pretend to be apologetic about it as he fills the tub, readying some soap that smells a bit too pleasant for Simon's tastes. For a moment he wonders if he should shift back, perhaps, if Johnny plans on scrubbing him down, figuring it would be less awkward if he took on his wolf form again, but Johnny simply guides him towards the tools he needs, offers some loose instructions, and says he'll be back with clothes for Simon- either through raiding the older man's closet (John, he learns his name is, though he decides that he doesn't like how close their names are) or through buying new ones. Simon doesn't like the idea of him leaving, but hums in response, hesitantly dropping the pelt and leaving it folded on a countertop before lowering himself into the bath.
The water is comfortable, he finds- not the warmest, per se, but far warmer than the river water he sometimes treks through if he's especially dirty- and it's still, meaning it doesn't tangle his fur... or hair, in this case. It's calming, really, enough that he decides to lean back and shut his eyes for a bit. It feels much safer in there than a little cave, after all, and his rest the night prior had been uneasy at best. It's only when the water's grown cold and he hears familiar footsteps approaching that he realizes he'd fallen asleep in the first place, perking up and lazily resting his jaw along the side of the bath as Johnny enters the room, fresh clothes in hand. They look new.
"Well, you didn't even wash up."
"Got tired. Besides, not used to having hands..." Simon mutters, stretching out with all the comfort of a fat housecat, rolling over so his weight's on his knees and he can rest his body up against the side of the tub. He's just giving Johnny a hard time, really, but finds himself tensing slightly when the man sighs, leaving the clothes on the counter atop Simon's pelt, and approaches, crouching beside the tub and reaching for a rag.
"I think you just like bein' a nuisance."
From another man, or maybe in another case, the words might sting slightly, cause some anxiety- but the amusement in Johnny's eyes and the pleasant feeling of the fabric scrubbing along his back simply has Simon sighing in something akin to relief, shutting his eyes once more and allowing his body to all but melt into the surface under him. The smell of the soap is diluted by the water, and really isn't all that bad, a hearty herbal scent that isn't too harsh on the nose. Part of Simon is tempted to sneak outside and roll around in the mud or something when Johnny's asleep just to feel it again, but that'd just be stupid, of course. Instead, he savors it while it happens, his eyes only opening when the human finally pulls away.
"Alright, you mutt. Up you go. Towels are in the cabinet, and I'll assume you know how to dress yourself..." he isn't given the time to make any smart remark or anything before Johnny's leaving the room, and he mourns the loss only for a moment before he begrudgingly moves to stand, shaking excess water off while he's still in the bath before moving to step out. His skin is clean, he finds, lacking possibly years worth of dirt and grime that had been there before. Scars remain and become slightly more prominent without the earthy coating over them, but he doesn't mind the look. Really, it's not that bad.
He almost looks normal.
It takes a while to dry off, but he finds it's much quicker than trying to get his fur to dry in the wind as he has in the past. From there, his last task is putting on the clothes Johnny had gotten him. They smell of another human, but only faintly, fresh enough- and lacking the scent of the older John- that he's sure they're new.
Simon doesn't like clothes one bit, it turns out. They're confining and uncomfortable and he doesn't like the feeling of the fabric on his body. It feels like a snake wrapped around his limbs, only with threads and seams and lord knows what else that just makes him want to scratch it all off like it's a colony of fleas.
Still, he can tell Johnny had been just slightly uncomfortable with a naked man in his home, so he deals with them even despite the urge to bite and gnaw until nothing itches anymore... he wanders around the house in search of the man, sniffing about in an effort to find him, and finally stalks into the bathroom, head lowered in an unconscious show of dislike for his threaded prison, but content with the smile that meets Johnny's face at the sight, anyways.
"There we go... could almost mistake you for a person, if I didn't know any better." He laughs at his own joke, while Simon only grunts in response. He stands there for a minute or so, before opting to move towards him and start crawling onto the bed. Johnny sighs, but makes no move to shove him off or anything of the sort, and from there it's just a matter of making himself comfortable. He finally ends up on his back, limbs stretched out lazily and one leg hanging off the bed, but cozy enough, anyways.
He's not asleep when he feels Johnny reach over to bury a hand in his hair and rub lightly at his scalp, but he does a damn good job at playing dead, anyways, not moving an inch and letting his breathing stay settled. It's good enough to lull him to sleep, anyways, a warm, nice feeling in his chest that he doesn't really want to shake.
#cod#call of duty#cod mwii#simon ghost riley#call of duty mwii#werewolf au#werewolf#werewolves#AU#no art for this one#...again#writing#ghost cod#simon riley#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghoap#WereGhost#Werewolf Ghost AU
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* The heart is not meant to rule *
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader
Tag list: @wo-ming-bai
Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc
Previous Chapter - Seduction Current Chapter - Travel south
***
You slam against the wall and let out a soft moan. It was obvious Feyd was restraining himself from ripping your dress apart and bending you over to be done with it. All the pent-up emotions from the last weeks ripping at the seams of his sanity.
His touch felt more than welcoming, like he was showing his true emotions for the first time, every form of doubt escaping your head. His kiss is hard and needy, as he becomes dangerously aggressive with his hands as well. He makes his way from your hips to your chest and snakes his hand around your throat, softly squeezing it. He breaks the kiss to look at you while he holds you against the wall.
You’re breathing heavily, face completely flush, lips plump and ready to take more. He takes his time, taking you fully in. His actions more so of a devoted follower, and you being his goddess. His raw emotions tugging at your heart, you move one of your hands to his face and cup his cheek. His eyes close as he leans into the touch, and he stays like that for a few seconds. As he opens them again, his eye contact is relentless, and he keeps your gaze as he moves to sit on his knees in front of you.
His eyes start to rake your body, going down your chest, your belly and following your legs down. In his opinion you’re still wearing too many clothes and he would love to make quick work of that. As he takes the dress’ skirt in his hands, he starts to rip it. Starting on the bottom and making his way towards your hips. It’s ripped straight down the middle, leaving you exposed to him. His mouth waters at seeing your bare long legs going up to your panties. His hands slowly move up your legs as he positions himself in front of you.
You swallow hard, and he looks up at you, eyes dark and full of want. He starts to pepper your skin with soft kisses, all around your panties. It almost drives you mad with how soft and slow he’s going, as you get wetter by the second. He enjoyed seeing you squirm a little at the uneasy feeling of need that came rushing over you.
“So needy, wife…” his fingers started to trail the area as well now, “what would you like me to do with that?” he mockingly spoke.
His question was rhetorical, as one of his fingers started to trail your pussy on the outside of your panties. You were so wet for him, and he enjoyed the humidity radiating off you. The soft fabric of your panties rubbed against your clit and elicited a few erotic moans out of you. You need to feel him on you, get devoured by him, but he was taking his sweet time. Without noticing you had left out a whiny moan.
He stopped what he was doing and stood back up. You looked at him questioning. He almost looked like he was smirking at you, mocking you even further. You took control into your own hands however, snaking your hands on top of his shoulders and unclasping his cape, letting it drop down to the ground. The cold air hit his unclothed back and he got chills all over. You started tracing the chains on the front again whilst holding eye contact. As your hands made their way towards the hem of his pants, he stepped closer to you, almost leaving no space between the both of you and the wall.
You move your hands softly, and teasingly, over his bulge and it elicits a soft breath from him. The touch almost being entirely too much for him but also not enough. You cup him in the palm of your hand, and his head falls forwards onto your shoulder. As you slowly tease him even further, he starts to kiss your shoulder and moves his way up to your throat, up to your ears, taking in your scent through your hair and you swear you feel him pulsate in your hands, growing larger.
“Does my Lord Na-Baron prefer hands, or would he like me to use my mouth?” you sinfully purr into his ears.
He never answers however and starts to pull you towards the bed. He forces you to sit down on the edge and before you know it, he’s on his knees in front of you.
“Mouth.” He smiles almost, as his hands go to remove your panties.
He traces your wetness with one of his fingers and sucks it dry, all while keeping his eyes fixed on yours. As he positions himself to get a better angle at your cunt, his hands snake around your thighs, pinning you down effectively. You let out a short breath as he suddenly licks your folds. He loses himself in the eroticism of it all and starts moving faster and faster. His mouth making a sinful sound every time he resurfaces to look at you. Your own face contorting in pleasure and extasy.
“I’ve been waiting for this for weeks, wife. You have no idea how thirsty I was. I should punish you for making me wait for so long.” He says in between kisses and tongue flicks, he even sounds a little bit angry, but his words just spur you on.
You take his head in your hands and bend down to kiss him, tasting yourself on him. Almost apologetically facing him like this. You pull him towards you, onto the bed and he kisses you deeper. His body language seems to calm down at this, and you manage to get him to lay down on his back. Somewhat submissive, this Harkonnen under you, you go down to remove his pants and throw them off the bed. His bulge is massive, and you wonder how he’ll ever fit inside you, one way or another.
His eyes are dark, but he awaits whatever you have planned next. What he doesn’t expect however is you turning around on top of him. You sit down on his chest and your wetness collides with the heat of his body. He has access to your fastenings from here and he starts to undress you from behind you. He slides the dress down your arms and pulls the remainder over your head. Your back exposed to him, he starts to trace small lines and imperfections he sees. You had a constellation of small dots on your entire back, and he wanted to remember them all.
As Feyd is busy with soft touches and being completely enamoured, you decide to release his cock from its restraints. You show down his underwear and expose him to yourself. He stops tracing for a few seconds as the cold air strokes his length unwillingly. As you make your move to grab his cock you feel Feyd’s hands on your hips, pulled you backwards over his chest. One of his arms making his way up your back and pushing you down, giving him access to your ass and if you went any further, your pussy.
You hum pleasingly as he kisses your ass cheeks and you move to lean onto your knees, giving him full access. He pulls you closer and you feel his nose hit your ass. His cock, dangerously big, hovering in front of you. You grasp it by the base and give it a few pumps. One of the hottest moans you ever heard comes from behind you and you feel Feyd’s grip become more tight, even painful at one point. His strength unmatched by your softness.
You relish in the fact that you could make him sound like that, and you move onto more. You spit on his cock to slick it a bit more and start to pump a bit more, precum wetting his head even further. Feyd is pressing you down into his mouth, his tongue fucking your insides and his nose pressing into your ass harshly. His hands grip and hold you down, making it impossible to move away even for a second. You decide to make him whimper like he’s doing to you, and without warning sink your mouth on top of his cock.
He almost let’s go of you, but instead moans unashamedly into your pussy. He didn’t expect this, and his breath is wavering a little, his body snapping to attention. You decide to drag it out of him and move teasingly slow on top of him, agonizing him, whilst bobbing your head. It almost felt like punishment for the both of you.
He tasted magnificent, almost sweet like liquorice, but he also had a scent about him of which you knew. You had noticed he smelled softly like Caladian rose, which he probably brought with him from Caladan. You felt like he was obsessed with you, and it only made you more willing for him. Both of your moaning increasing, and you even started to move in rhythm for him and his tongue.
One of his hands came up to your pussy and he inserted one finger, then two. The way he was pumping ever so slowly drove you mad, and you took his cock deep into your mouth and kept it there for a few seconds, moaning hard on it. Feyd closed his eyes at the vibration he felt and then continued to split you open with a third finger inserted. You let go of his cock with a pop and held it steady in your hand, slowly pumping the wetness all over.
You started to move away from him, wanting to turn around and look at him whilst you were pleasuring him, but he held you close, sucking away at your clit. He was relentless, his fingers doing more work than necessary, trying hard to make you cum. It didn’t take long of this to eventually make you see a white flash of light and stars afterwards. Your entire body shook on his fingers, and he let out a pleased hum.
As you were catching your breath, he didn’t leave you a lot of time to saver in the moment. He slapped your ass and ushered for you to move off him by pushing you to the side. You managed to gain some more control over your body over the next few seconds, but Feyd had moved faster than you imagined. Settling himself between your legs he finally saw you fully naked. He was breathing heavily, eyes dark as night.
Day had already fallen, and the room had a faint light covering you both. Moonlight made its way into the room and onto the bed from the open curtains a few meters away. Feyd looked magnificently beautiful, a perfect specimen.
Feyd had never been this hard before, your touch driving him crazy. He was convinced at one point you had been a witch, the way he felt so compelled to do things to you, or let you have all control over him. It felt new and fresh, and he never knew that this is what he craved. You lay under him, panting, face red and hair dishevelled. Some precum on your lips, pussy wet and willing for him, and it had all been your choice.
The sound you had made when you came on his fingers would be one he would savour for the time being. You had tasted deliciously, and your mouth had felt like velvet on his cock. He didn’t enjoy using the word ‘perfect’ often, but you had been for him. From the moment you walked to the altar, to right now, everything had been perfect.
He reached out to the dresser and took out a small dagger. He knew he might be testing you greatly this early on, but he also knew you would take it. For him. He unsheathed the dagger and started to run the sharp knife softly over your chest, circling your breasts with care and control. Eventually ending up at your throat.
He felt you swallow, and your breath hitched a little. This was obviously very new for you, so he wanted to make sure you felt comfortable enough before continuing. As he felt your breathing calm down, he cut slowly into the side of your throat, very shallowly. Your blood started to manifest itself and he reached down, licking it all up.
“We have been bonded by blood, wife.” He whispered in your ear, “you are mine, and mine alone.” He continued, voice hoarse almost, filled with desire.
As he moved away from you to look at you, you saw your own blood on his lips, covering his plump lips. The feeling all too intimate, you decided to make things more interesting. You sat up in defiance to his actions.
“Lay down husband, let me show you who I belong to,” you spoke angrily at him.
His eyes opened in surprise at your defiance. You even made it sound like he had no control over you. He submitted to your strength, but only for now, he thought. He’d have his way with you before the night was over.
As he lay down, you crawled on top of him, sitting your pussy on top of his cock, flat against his stomach. The sound he made was almost like a mewl, the contact both of your parts had sinfully wet and delicious.
You took the dagger into your hands and started to softly move your body back and forth. Your pussy stroking his length, preparing it for what’s to come. You moved the dagger to one of his nipples and cut him right under, another moan falling out of his mouth. Another small scar on his abs, and one on his collarbone. The blood was coming out slowly, but you had cut a bit deeper than he had.
You threw the dagger across the room and took some of his blood onto your finger, sucking off one of them, but moving the other hand to your exposed nipple. You rubbed it and your breast sinfully, as you kept moving back and forth on his cock, making the both of you even wetter. He couldn’t stop staring at you and your actions, your breast now covered with his blood, his mouth agape at the sight.
You bent down and took more blood from his collarbone and started to rub your clit with it. He grasped both of your legs in an attempt to refocus himself, you were driving him over the edge of sanity, and he was straining to control the last bit of humanity he had. You wanted him to become a mad dog, he was convinced.
What he was seeing felt like an ancient painting that inspired war, a woman worth fighting for. He understood the ancient tales of men dying because of a woman, the love they had for their wives or concubines, and how easily men were brought to death at the simple flick of a wrist by women. He felt compelled to let himself get swallowed into the dark void you create for him. Even just for tonight.
“I am yours, Feyd.” You spoke softly. “Do with me as you please.”
He took a few seconds to regain consciousness from the words he heard. Completely enveloped in what you were doing and the emotions he felt at your confession. He got up softly and placed you in his lap. His eyes scanned your body, soft and supple for him, wet and wanting for him. You were in a similar position as when you shared your first kiss.
It compelled you to kiss him, ever so soft. And he let you, pulling you into the kiss even more so. Long and soft kisses were exchanged, you started to feel a little bit emotional. You wondered if anyone was ever soft on him, if he had ever experienced softness like this. You realise it’s never too late to show him the softness he never received and craved so dearly, but all in good time.
Your kissing started to get a little bit more heated, and your mind transported you back to the damp grass, where you had showed self-restraint towards Feyd. Tonight was different, however. You had the privacy you needed to let your inhibitions go. As Feyd cupped your ass and forced you up on top of him again, your hands come up to hold his shoulders. He started circling your ass and pussy with his fingers, almost asking for entrance.
His cock was wet against your stomach, and you decided to move faster than him. As you grabbed it, he yanked your hand back however, taking back the control he had over you.
“All too needy, lady Atreides,” he spat out your previous name mockingly, reminding you of the first time he had said this to you.
Your giggle has returned, the alcohol making a reappearance. His face is serious however, and he decides to punish you for laughing at him. He slaps your ass hard, probably more intense than he wanted to. It smacks you awake, and it stings your ass. You let out a pained moan and stop giggling immediately. He holds both of your arms behind your back and grabs your throat.
“My little Na-Baroness forgets that she can’t always get what she wants,” he speaks as he tightens his grip.
You struggle against him a little bit, his grasp being all too hard. This would certainly leave bruises on your tender skin, one more sign he would relish in come morning. You almost feel like he wants to make you beg, the position he has you in uncomfortable for you. He has full control over your upper body and you’re not strong enough to use your legs to lift yourself up. He’s holding you steady and pinning you down at the same time. Pussy hovering over his wet cock.
You let out a pleading moan, for more air and release, but he refuses to give it to you.
“Is my little wife afraid? Is that what I see in her eyes?” his voice harsh, demanding and controlling every bit of breath that you have.
The way he says it stirs something deep inside of you, preferably where you would want Feyd to be at this moment, but you know why he does this. He needs to feel the control he likes to have; he needs to make sure you trust him like he wants to trust you. So, you let him, tears forming at your eyes from the intensity of his grip. You want to speak but he doesn’t let you.
“So eager to please, eager to control. Yield, wife.” His face right next to yours, his breath lingering on your lips as you manage to gasp some air in.
His grip loosened a little bit, in order for you to formulate an answer or response. You took a few seconds to breathe in and managed to clear your throat.
“I yield, husband,” you said with a defiant look in your eyes.
It took no more than a split second for him to let go of your throat and sink you down on top of his cock, gripping your hips with both hands and pushing you downwards. He stretched you open completely, feeling your walls clench him in all the good ways. You let out a gasp and a moan, as he moaned into your mouth.
You stayed like that for a few seconds, getting used to the feeling of each other, feeling his cock pulsate inside you, and letting your pussy get used to his girth. You knew he was going to be big, but the way he felt was driving you crazy. You just wanted to move on top of him, make him cum inside of you, feel him all over.
Feyd has never felt such a wet and willing partner, he had experience, but it never felt like this. So right for him, the perfect wife, he had to do everything in his power to keep him from releasing right then and there. As you started to move on top of him, he just let you do whatever you wanted. His previous words lost in the heat that you gave him. He closed his eyes to relish in the feeling of your wet cunt moving up and down on him and let himself fall on top of the mattress and into the pillows behind him.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw your body, marked with his blood, moving up and down slowly. Your hair falling over your tits which were bouncing softly because of your movements. You looked ethereal to him, and all he could do was pray at the altar you had created for him in his mind.
He felt incredible, almost splitting you open from where you were sitting, only able to move slowly so you wouldn’t hurt yourself in the progress. His hands grasping your legs hard, your hands coming up to his chest to stabilise yourself to move a little bit faster. As you started to feel secure in your movements he started to rub your clit with his thumb, agonisingly slow and soft. You felt yourself thrust forwards in order to get more friction from him, causing his cock to stretch you open even further.
The sounds you produced were absolutely sinful, and you didn’t know what to do with your hands at one point. Feyd decided to switch positions as he threw you off him and onto your back into the pillows. He looked at you and the state you were in and vowed to himself that he’d be the only one allowed to utterly destroy you. As he aligned his cock to your entrance again he had a sinister smile on his features.
“I wish I had done this to you back on Caladan.” As he lets his tip enter your wet hole he continues, “let everyone see how I fuck you in the damp grass,” his cock going deeper and deeper, “show everyone you’re mine,” he huffs out as your pussy fully takes his cock in.
You’re panting and out of breath, his eyes are drilling into yours and you know he’s serious about this. You also notice the way he said ‘everyone’ was pointed to remind you of Duncan. About how it drove him mad that another man could even think about claiming you as his first. Feyd was not going to have any of that, it would be clear to the world that you belonged with him, and you were willing to be with him.
He looked at you, struggling for something to hold onto, his cock stretching you to the fullest as you were panting. He started to move with a certain pace, snapping his hips and plunging his cock deeper with every thrust. It felt surreal, he was hitting every spot he could. His hands came down to your legs as he held onto them thrusting into you like he was possessed by something, spreading them open even more and the sight only spurred him on.
Both of you were breathing heavily, you more so than him, moaning like a common sex slave. The noises that he made you make would make you feel embarrassed had this had been another setting. It was obvious that he loved it when you were vocal however, as he grunted more the louder you got. He finally bent down to kiss you, roughly and hot. You managed to pull him down even more and held onto him as he set a fast pace fucking you raw.
You kissed his neck and broke skin when you bit him as he plunged harder into you, your own emotions becoming a bit more violent. He merely snickered at your actions, obviously relishing the fact that he was making his wife feel this good that she reverted to aggression. He would have a huge bruise later, but considered it a marking you placed on him, so others would stay away.
“Tsk tsk tsk wife, haven’t you learned to be nice to your husband?”, he mocks as he pulls out of you.
You let out a groan of dismissal, feeling the emptiness right now.
“Please, Feyd,” you beg, and his eyes spark fire.
He turns you around and pushes your head into the pillows, ass up facing him. You comply easily and feel him position himself behind you. As you sink into the pillows awaiting his throbbing member, you feel his hands in your hair. As he’s feeling around you notice what he’s doing.
“This is new for me,” he says as he grasps a load of your hair and yanks you upwards to him.
He does it all too hard and you make a strained noise. You feel his hardened cock on your ass and want nothing more than him to enter you at this point. He was breeding you to become his own personal sex slut and you didn’t care. He was experienced and not shy to share his needs and wants with you.
“Feyd, I need to feel you,” you manage to get out as one of your hands trails his hip, urging him to fuck you.
He doesn’t let go of your hair, instead he brings his lips next to your ear. He purrs almost, leaving soft kisses on the side of your face and sniffing in your scent through your hair.
“Beg.”
Is all he says before letting your hair go and shoving you down again. As he positions his cock at your entrance he slaps your ass again, hard enough for you to recoil and moan into the pillow.
“Please Feyd, please fuck me,” you manage to pant out.
It’s like music to his ears but he wants more. He slaps you again, urging you on to beg even more. You whimper at his violence, mewing like a hurt animal.
“My lord Na-Baron, please fill me with your seed,” you manage to get out as you move your hips backwards a little bit, his tip brushing your pussy.
He considers it, but grabs your hair instead, pulling you backwards again, your back flush with his chest, as he snakes his other hand around your chest to hold you steady.
“Do you need me that badly, wife?”, he mocks you openly, almost laughing at how pathetic you sounded.
You only manage to nod, given the position you’re in.
“Use your words,” he whispers angrily.
You swallow hard, feeling his cock brush against your pussy but not getting release, his torture was going to end you.
“I might die if you don’t, my lord Feyd-Rautha,” you manage to choke out.
The hand that’s holding your chest snakes down towards your pussy, and he rubs your folds softly. You start to pant like an animal in heat and push your ass backwards, in a sort of last effort to seduce Feyd. He goes for the bait and positions his cock against your entrance. In one swift movement he’s inside you, keeping up a fast pace whilst still bending you backwards, holding your hair. His free hand now goes to hold your throat and choke you a little bit.
His strength is what almost drives you over the edge, you feel safe and secure in his arms, even though he is making it hard for you not to fall apart completely. You try and match his rhythm and move along with him. Every time he goes in, you make it so he goes deeper and deeper. You’re so close at this point, and so is he.
He lets you go, and you drop down face first into the pillows again. He grabs your ass at both sides and relentlessly fucks you. You lose all control over your body and try to use your hands to keep yourself grounded but end up failing. You lean on your elbow while grasping the pillows in front of you to have any form of steadiness. You’re practically almost screaming at this point; he just feels that good.
“I’m-I’m so close Feyd!” you manage to burst out.
He stops what he’s doing, pulls out and turns you over. You almost whine at the fact that he killed your buzz right there, truly torturing you. As you position yourself on your back, he plunges into you once more. His pace erratic and almost possessive. One of his hands holds your throat and the other he uses to keep your leg up. Giving him full access and control over your body.
He keeps up this insane pace whilst drilling you down, making you see stars even before your orgasm arrives again. He’s staring at you, intense as ever, but also soft in a way.
“Kiss me Feyd,” you sound all too innocent when you ask him.
He obliges, and as he bends forward, he releases his choke hold on your throat, allowing you to tilt your head and kiss him deeply. The kiss is all too sweet, and as he deepens it, you start to lose all control over your body once more. Butterflies erupt from deep down below and you feel the need to become his entirely, let him have whatever he wants.
As your kiss slows down, he starts to pick up the pace of his cock destroying you again, keeping his face close to yours. It’s as intense as it can be, and you don’t need much more than that to feel your orgasm nearing again. The position he’s in hits the spot perfectly, as he feels you tighten with every move.
“Feyd, I’m-“ you barely manage to breathe out.
Your orgasm washes over you and you cannot control your body anymore. The clenching of your walls and the sounds you make bring Feyd right over the edge with you. As he continues to pump into you, his seed spills into you and a warm feeling envelopes you. He holds you as he softly slows down his pace and lets the last of his seed fill you. He kisses your neck and throat as he pulls out of you, his cum gushing out of you.
“My perfect wife,” he whispers in between kisses and bites.
You clasp your hands behind his head and pull him down for a deep kiss. He reciprocates and lets you have control over it. You’re heaving but manage to catch your breath. He feels so good and sweet. You let him go after a while and he stands up to look at his work. You’re on his bed, cum painted all over your legs and pussy, sweat dripping from you, his blood on your body, the bites and bruised skin he’s left, and he feels complete in that moment.
After staring at you for a while he goes to the bathing area to clean himself up. You join quickly after, and you help each other get clean again. He loves touching your body, even in a non-sexual way. You finish with the soaps and rinse off. As you reach for a towel, he pushes you against the wall and kisses you deeply, your naked bodies brushing softly. Both of you are slick wet and soaped up. He starts to go downwards, kissing your neck and teasing your nipple in his mouth. He pecks kisses lower and lower until he reaches your pussy again.
It's all soaped up and wet, just how he likes it. As he inserts two fingers your vision darkens again. This man was unrelenting, you wondered if his drive was ever off. As he starts to pump into you, he flicks his fingers just rightly, so it hits the spot every time. You start to pant again, a typical occurrence tonight. He gets up again, facing you, but his fingers stay where they are, driving you insane.
“Come for me,” he whispers in your ear, as he grasps your hair and pulls your head backwards. “Be the good wife you promised to be,” as your body bends towards him and his fingers drive you to extasy.
You come undone, completely. Your body shakes aggressively on his hand, as he tries to hold you steady against the wall. You’re mewling at this point, completely sated because of him. As he lets his fingers out of you, you sound a little disappointed and he brings his fingers to his mouth. As he sucks them off, he kisses you again, tasting yourself on his lips. It’s much too vulgar and erotic, and you’ve never felt so shameless before.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Feyd-Rautha,” you manage to speak out in between breaths.
He smiles darkly at you, his blackened teeth glistening.
“Only if you’ll allow me,” he poetically responds.
You don’t know what he’s implying but you don’t care. As you get properly rinsed off again, the both of you head towards bed and let yourselves fall into a deepened sleep, the scent of Caladian rose lulling the both of you to sleep, as Feyd’s arm is draped over your body and his nose nuzzled into your hair from behind.
#feyd rautha#feyd x reader#feyd x you#feyd rautha harkonnen#house harkonnen#dune part two#dune part 2#dune movie#dune 2#dune#the heart is not meant to rule#feyd fanfiction#fanfiction
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VLD S7E3: The Way Forward
Season 7 Episode 3: The Way Forward
Transcript by @lasersheith
Summary: Trapped in a perilous situation far from home and needing help to get free, the Paladins realise their fate is in Coran's hands.
[Google Doc]
[Scene begins outside of a Galra cruiser. Moves into the hangar to reveal the Lions in a secluded area, powered down and laying on the floor haphazardly, surrounded by guards. Zooms out to reveal the Lions on a display screen on the bridge.]
Female First Mate: The Lions are locked in the hangar and the Paladins have been taken to the brig.
[Scene changes to Lance in the brig, listening at the door]
Lance: Hm? Hm. Mm-hmm.
Hunk: What are you doing?
Lance: I’m feeling for a secret passage.
Keith: You’ve watched too many movies, Lance. There’s no secret passage.
Lance: Oh really? Then how do you explain this?
[Lance kicks the wall]
[Lance whimpers in pain]
Lance: I meant, uh, this!
[Lance spins around and kicks the opposite wall]
Lance [whimpering in pain]: D’ooh, ow, ow, ow!
Krolia: Will someone shut him up?
[Lance stops whimpering]
Krolia: There’s only one guard patrolling out there. If we can get this door open, we can overpower him.
[Lance whimpers again]
Hunk: What happened to Coran?
Krolia: He must have managed to hide when we were captured.
Allura: At least we have one ally out there still able to fight for us.
Pidge: Are you saying our fate rests in Coran’s hands? [Pause, everyone looks very skeptical] I will help you look for that passage.
[Scene cuts to the Black Lion]
[Coran grunts and pounds on the closet door. He growls in frustration and begins trying various means of pulling the door open. He pants]
Coran: Quite the sticky wicket I find myself in, hmm? Absolutely True Tales of an Incredibly Humble Hero. Chapter Forty-Three: A Hero’s Escape. I find myself in the cargo hold of the Black Lion, a strategic and very conscious choice on my part. It’s on me to free my compatriots and save the day. Luckily, I’m up to the task. Some men shrink in the face of danger, while others stand up and say [a loud clang sounds behind him] Ah!!
[Coran whimpers and scans the room with his flashlight, revealing the now-squeaking mice]
Coran: Oh! Uh, hello, little friends. I didn’t see you there.
[Mice squeak]
Coran: Oh, uh, just so you know, I didn’t scream because I was scared. That was a shriek of intimidation, by which I mean it would intimidate you. Uh… [clears throat] Well, anyway, I’ll get us out. Hmm.
[Mice squeak]
Coran: And then the world will read about us in my memoirs… Absolutely True Tales of [the mice squeak and skitter away] Hey! Where are you going?
[Coran follows the mice with his flashlight until they skitter through a vent in the wall. His eyes follow the sounds of skittering up and around the ceiling to the doors. He places his head against the door to listen. Coran screams as the mice open the door and he falls into the hallway.]
Coran: Well I was gonna try that next. you just beat me to it. Good job, guys.
[Coran shines his flashlight behind the mice, where the wolf is laying on the floor. The wolf whines.]
Coran: And where were you this whole time? I could’ve really used some help in there.
[The mice squeak and skitter down the hall.]
[Coran approaches the wolf. It whimpers again.]
Coran: Oh, you’re hurt. Well, you just sit tight. Old Coran is on the case.
[Scene changes to Coran on the outside of the Black Lion, looking down on the guard below.]
Coran [to the mice]: Now you stay here. I’ll take care of the enemy combatant.
[Mice squeak and run off.]
Coran: Huh?
[Mice leap off of the Black Lion and onto the guard. They cover his faceplate, making him remove his helmet and scream while trying to brush them off. He drops his weapon.]
[Coran starts to try to jump onto the guard, slips, screams, falls down onto the guard’s head and renders him unconscious.]
[Scene cuts to unclothed guard, unconscious and groaning on the floor. Coran is above him putting on his clothes. The mice squeak.]
[Scene cuts to Zethrid coming through a doorway to meet Ezor. The door closes behind her.]
Zethrid: We’ve got all the Lions and their Paladins locked down.
Ezor: If Voltron survived, do you think that means Lotor is still alive?
Zethrid: That’s what we’re going to find out.
Ezor: What if he finds us? What do you think he’ll do to us?
Zethrid: I will always take care of you, Ezor. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.
Ezor: Do you really believe that?
Zethrid: Just look at what we’ve done already. We just took down a Galra cruiser. And we have the mighty Paladins of Voltron locked in our brig. We are destined for greatness, Ezor. Trust me.
Ezor: I do. Now let’s go torture some prisoners.
Zethrid: That’s my girl.
[Scene cuts to pirates chatting in hallway]
Pirate 1: And then, I heard they was giving away free Kalteneckers with every purchase.
[Coran peaks around corner in previous guard’s uniform]
Pirate 2: Wait, did you say “free”?
[Coran walks around the corner]
Coran: Greetings, fellow scallywags. How’s the booty?
Pirates: “Booty”?
Coran: Anyhow, how’s… how about capturing those Paladins, eh? Ha ha. Remind me where you’re -- I mean, uh, we’re keeping them.
Pirate 1: Wait a second. [Zoom in on Coran’s scarf] That’s Blofar’s scarf! He stole it from that Valdostian before we flushed him into space.
[Pirates move to surround Coran]
Coran: That’s right, and I won it from Blofar in a game of Gorblonthian Checkers.
Pirate 2: But Blofar hates Gorblonthian Checkers.
Coran: Yes, that’s right, which is why we used the Melmakian ruleset.
Pirate 1: Did you say “the Melmakian ruleset”?
Coran: Did I? [He coughs] Wh-what I meant to say was --
Pirate 1: [levels her weapon at Coran] Who are you?
[Acxa jumps down from the ceiling onto the Pirate’s head and knocks her out. She jumps from Pirate 1 to Pirate 2 before he can level his weapon at her. Acxa kicks him in the head and he falls unconscious in front of Coran.]
Coran: Wait, aren’t you one of Lotor’s generals?
Acxa: Acxa.
[Scene cuts to the Paladins in their cell. The door whooshes open to reveal two pirates with weapons. They walk in and stand aside for Ezor and Zethrid.]
Ezor: Look who’s here. It’s Voltron.
Zethrid: We’re going to have a little talk.
Lance: Hey! You’re the guys that Lotor shot into space.
Pidge: And the ones that were trying to kill us.
Hunk: Yeah, sure, but we’re all friends now, right? I, for one, am glad you survived.
Ezor: I’m glad you survived, too. It’s no fun torturing a dead person.
Hunk: Oh. So, maybe not? [Chuckles]
Zethrid: Where have you been all this time? And what happened to Lotor?
Shiro: What are you talking about?
Ezor: We’re talking about your little disappearing act.
Zethrid: Answer the question! How did you survive that explosion?
Hunk: Don’t you know? You were there.
Ezor: I think there’s a little confusion about how the “we ask questions, you give us answers” scenario works.
Zethrid: Enough of your games. Where is Lotor?
Keith: Lotor’s dead. We left him in the Quintessence Field.
Ezor: Yeah, that doesn’t really add up. Why aren’t you dead?
Hunk: Because of the power of teamwork?
Zethrid: I’m going to ask you one more time, and then we’re going to have to take a more extreme approach.
Ezor: The fun part.
Zethrid: What happened to Lotor and where have you been all this time?
[Scene cuts to Acxa watching around a corner as a guard passes by]
Coran [right behind Acxa as she turns around]: What are you doing here?
Acxa [gasps and recoils briefly]: I picked up the signal you were sending to your home planet. I assume that’s how Ezor and Zethrid were able to intercept you.
Coran: But why are you helping us?
Acxa: We don’t have time for that now. Your friends are being held in a detention cell several floors below us. We have to find a way to free them, get to your Lions, and most likely blast our way out.
Coran: Well that’ll be a challenge. The Lions are nearly too weak to fly. They’d be little help in a fight.
Acxa: So if the entire pirate fleet comes after us?
Coran: We’d be right back here or shot into space.
[Acxa presses a button on her wrist causing a display to pop up and beep]
Acxa: We’re gonna need a distraction, not to mention an escape route.
[display continues beeping]
Coran: Ooh, there’s an ion cannon in hangar one, right next to the Lions.
Acxa: That should work. In the event of a hull breach, these cruisers are designed to seal off the other hangars in order to maintain the ship’s integrity. We can use the ion cannon to blast a hole in the hangar door. The other doors will seal.
Coran: So the pirates would only have escape pods to chase after us until they override the system.
Acxa: You free your friends and find your helmets and weapons. Once I blow open the hangar, you and your Lions will be sucked out into space.
Coran: Right. We’ll be ready to go in five doboshes.
[Pan to Coran’s helmet on the ground]
[Scene changes back to detention cell]
Zethrid: If you insist on maintaining this charade of ignorance, you leave us no choice but to apply pressure.
Ezor: Finally. Who’s our first victim?
Zethrid [zoomed in on Pidge]: You. I’d bet half my fleet that this group of heroes has a soft spot for the small one.
[Lance lunges out as Ezor walks toward Pidge]
Lance: Don’t you touch her!
[Ezor kicks Lance across the room. Lance groans in pain.]
Zethrid: [scoffs] Your defiance is adorable. And so very misguided.
Pidge: Leave us alone!
[Ezor whips her head tail around and grabs Pidge by her handcuffs, pulling her away from the group. Everyone gasps and shouts.]
Hunk: Pidge!
[Ezor hoists Pidge up into the air by her shoulders. Pidge groans.]
Keith: [lunges forward] Let her go!
[Guards block his path to Pidge and Ezor and level their weapons at him.]
[Pidge groans]
[Scene changes to the Black Lion in the hangar next to an ion cannon.]
[Acxa leaps down onto the ion cannon. A display inside pings a red warning signs and beeps. Acxa taps her wrist and summons a yellow display. The red display on the cannon changes to yellow. Acxa carefully hits controls]
[Scene changes to the unclothed guard, who wakes up in only underpants and groans, squeals, covers his pelvis, and runs to an intercom panel.]
Guard: We’ve got an intruder in hangar one. Send backup!
[Red lights flash throughout the hangar. An alarm beeps. Additional pirates run in, spot Acxa on the cannon and shoot at her. She dodges their attacks and runs toward them. One guard attacks her with a laser whip. She dodges their attacks and knocks them unconscious.]
[Scene changes to Coran in a hallway.]
Coran: Where did I put that helmet? Hm, just gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way.
[Coran breathes in, closes his eyes. His face turns a light shade of purple. He runs down the hallway. A guard passing by does not notice him. Coran puts his hand near a door panel. It whooshes open and reveals a large, helmeted and armored figure in the Galra pirate uniform.]
Coran: Ah, hello there. It looks like your shift is up. I’m here to replace you.
Armored Pirate: [mechanical warble] My shift just started. [Steam hisses out of the back of the armor.] Who are you? Hey, is that Blofar’s scarf?
[Coran sighs and backs up, holding his fists out in approximately a boxer’s stance.]
Coran: Fine. I challenge you to a battle of fisticuffs!
[Coran pants and shouts, shuffling in the hallway. He punches the armored pirate in the torso. His hand makes a cracking sound. He screams in pain.]
[Steam is released from vents in the back of the armored pirate. He approaches Coran.]
Coran: [whimpers] Easy there, big fella. Simmer down now. It’s just a little scheduling conflict!
[The mice skitter off down the hallway, unnoticed by the armored pirate. A door shuts behind them.]
[Scene changes to Acxa fighting more pirates. She is outnumbered and being fired upon. She pulls up the ion cannon screen on her wrist display again and presses a button. She sprints away.]
[Pan to pirates firing their weapons at Acxa. They gasp as the ion cannon begins to move. It charges up a large, crackling ball of electricity.]
[Scene changes to the detention cell, Pidge’s feet dangling in the air. Pidge groans.]
Ezor: Answers!
Keith: We told you, he’s --
[Boom from outside the cell. An alarm begins to sound.]
Computerized voice on loudspeaker: Hull breach in hangar one. Lockdown sequence initiated.
[Pirates begin marching out of the detention cell. Ezor growls and drops Pidge before following.]
[Krolia approaches the door as soon as it shuts]
Krolia: This is it. The next time that door opens, overwhelm the guard.
[The team line up half against one wall on either side of the door]
[Something clangs outside the door. A guard groans. The door opens. Everyone prepares to jump out and attack, but the mice are standing on top of the only guard, squeaking. Allura approaches them and drops down onto her knees.]
Allura: Hello, little friends.
[Mice squeak]
Allura: What?
[More squeaking]
Allura: Where?
Hunk: What? What are they saying?
[Squeaking continues]
Allura: Coran’s trying to rescue us. And he’s got help! Acxa.
Keith: What?
[Scene changes back to Coran, groaning and getting beaten up by the armored pirate.]
Coran: [sputtering] Joke’s on you! I’ve got you right where I want you.
[He swings limply at the armored pirate and misses twice. Steam hisses out of the back of the armored pirate. Something hits him in the back. The armored pirate moans and falls down. Allura, grown to a larger size, was behind him. Allura shrinks back to normal size. Coran wobbles and sinks down to his knees, returning to his normal color. Lance and Keith run to support him on either arm.]
Coran [to the unconscious armored pirate]: See? You got lucky.
Keith: Coran, where’s Acxa?
Coran: I don’t know. Where am I?
Shiro: Are you okay?
Coran: Never better. Now let’s get our belmards and hayards.
Lance: Don’t worry, we got you.
Coran: Oh, thank you, Princess Allura.
[Scene changes to Ezor and Zethrid running down a hallway. An alarm is blaring. Through a nearby window, the Lions can be seen drifting out into space. Back inside, Ezor and Zethrid run through the hallway as breech doors close around them. Acxa slides through one just as it is closing, landing right in front of them.]
Zethrid: Acxa, what are you doing here?
Ezor: I should’ve known you’d show up once we got the Paladins. She’s always been sweet on that one with the flippity hair.
[Acxa grunts and moves to a fighting stance. Zethrid and Ezor attack. Acxa dodges past them, turning and slashing a whip at Ezor, catching her foot and sending her sprawling onto the ground. Acxa dodges around Zethrid but Ezor manages to get free and come up behind her. Acxa throws Ezor off of herself and into Zethrid. Acxa runs around them while they get back to their feet. They give chase.]
[Scene changes to the bayards and helmets sitting on a table. Two pirates are messing with the Paladin equipment.]
Pirate 1: [tries to put the yellow helmet on his head but it doesn’t fit] Hey, how do I look?
Pirate 2: Mm, kinda dumb.
[Pirate 1 groans in disappointment and removes the helmet]
Pirate 2: [holding the green bayard] Do you think there’s a switch on here or something?
Pirate 1: I cannot wait until that thing turns on and cuts your head off.
[The team sneaks to the doorway of the room, behind the pirates.]
Keith: [whispering] Our bayards.
Lance: [whispering] They have weapons and we don’t. Any suggestions?
Coran: [yelling,slurring] Unhand those bayards, you scallywags!
[Keith and Lance tackle Coran away from the door. Both pirates turn in shock, grabbing their weapons, and head to the door.]
Pidge: [whispering, with the others hidden against the wall in the hallway] So much for the element of surprise.
[Coran shouting is muffled by Lance’s hand over his mouth.]
[Keith closes his eyes and focuses, the screen tinges red. Keith’s bayard teleports into his hand. He charges into the room and slashes at the guards. After a few laser blasts and grunts, their bodies thud to the ground. The rest of the team enters the room to get their equipment.]
Keith: Lance, lead the way. Keep the team together.
Lance: Wait, where are you going?
Keith: Acxa saved our skin. I’m not gonna leave her behind. I’ll meet up with you guys soon.
[The team suits up]
Lance: Let’s get to the Lions.
[Scene changes to the Lions floating out in space. The Paladins run to the end of a large hallway with a sealed breech door. Lance grabs a control lever and opens it. An alarm blares. The air whooshes out of the hallway. The Paladins begin jetpacking towards the Lions. Pirate chase them and fire laser weapons at them. The Paladins return fire with their bayards.]
[Scene changes back to Ezor and Zethrid chasing Acxa down a hallway. Ezor begins to gain the upper hand in the fight against Acxa. Keith jumps in and shields Acxa from Ezor’s kick. Ezor cries out and flips away.]
Ezor: Oh look, Acxa, it’s your favorite Paladin.
Zethrid: So do you guys actually know each other?
Ezor: Yeah, don’t you remember how she never wanted to kill him?
Zethrid: Aw, I guess it is true love.
Keith: Can’t we just fight? [He grunts and rushes them]
[Scene changes back to the Lions. Hunk is flying around pirates, evading their fire. He wraps one in his own cape and kicks him into another, sending them flying and careening into other pirates. Hunk fires his bayard into the group and they scatter.]
[Krolia rips part of a jetpack off a pirate in front of her, the careen off into space. Two pirates fly up to Coran with weapons.]
Coran: Huh? Ha ha! [he growls and shakes his fists at them]
[A large, rumbling shadow falls over Coran. The pirates flee in terror.]
Coran [with Mice in his helmet]: Ha! Must not have wanted any more. [he hears something behind him] Huh? Huh?
[Coran turns around to find the Green Lion behind him. It roars and catches him in its mouth.]
[Scene changes back to Ezor fighting Keith and Zethrid fighting Acxa. Acxa appears to gain the upper hand against Zethrid, kicking and punching her repeatedly. Suddenly Zethrid blocks her kick, punches her, and sends her flying down the hall.]
[Acxa lands near Keith, where Ezor is struggling with him for his sword. Keith growls seeing Acxa fall and shoves Ezor across the hall with his jetpack, slamming her into the opposite wall. Ezor falls to the ground, but Zethrid runs in and slams Keith and Acxa through a wall into another room. They both groan and slide to a stop against a breech door. A tube rolls towards them.]
Keith: Is that what I think it is?
Acxa: Synthian nitrate.
[Scene changes to Allura in the Blue Lion’s cockpit.]
Keith: Guys! Zero in on my location and fire on the ship.
Allura: Are you sure?
Keith: Just do it!
[Allura’s displays lock on Keith and aim at the pirate cruiser. All of the Lions fire at the same point.]
[Scene changes back to Keith and Acxa fighting Ezor and Zethrid. Keith grabs Acxa and jetpacks past Ezor and Zethrid, back through the hole they were thrown through. Zethrid and Ezor shout as they are caught in the blast.]
[Scene changes to the Black Lion flying toward the exploding pirate cruiser. Keith and Acxa blast out of a plume of smoke, into the Lion’s mouth. The Lions turn and fly away from the exploding pirate ship.]
[Scene changes to the Lions resting on a rocky ground. Hunk turns away from them and walks into a cave. The rest of the team is in the cave. Hunk has an armful of sticks for a fire.]
Hunk: Uh, I just looked at the Lions and they’re in worse shape than ever.
Shiro: We should probably give them some time to recharge before we head back on our way.
Lance: [Looking towards Acxa] Wow, a lot of things have really changed over the past few weeks.
Acxa: Weeks? What are you talking about?
Allura: The last time we saw you. You were fighting us alongside Lotor.
Acxa: That was three deca-phoebs ago. No one has seen you since your fight with Lotor.
Keith: That’s impossible.
Acxa: It’s true. After Lotor jettisoned us, we managed to make it to cover on a meteoroid. There we saw both Voltron and Lotor disappear. Eventually, Voltron reemerged… alone. But then there was an explosion, and after that… nothing. That was three deca-phoebs ago.
Lance: Whoa.
Allura: So, as far as everyone else in the universe is concerned, Voltron has been gone for three deca-phoebs?
[Hunk drops his armful of sticks.]
Pidge: That explains the discrepancies in the star charts in our Lions. I thought they were off because of our inter-dimensional jumping, which I guess they were in a way. Because when you think about it, that must have been the cause of the time slippage between our experience and that of the rest of the universe.
Keith: So how did you end up here, helping us?
Acxa: Zethrid, Ezor, and I were marooned on the meteoroid for days. Finally, a Galra ship came to investigate Lotor’s last known whereabouts. We took it over. With Lotor gone, it was clear that there was a power vacuum in the Galra Empire. Zethrid and Ezor wanted to exploit that for their own gain… but I knew I had to find my own path. And it led me to you.
Keith: Thank you… for saving us.
Acxa: I hope that this makes up, in some way, for the wrong I’ve done. I realize now that Lotor wasn’t the man I thought he was. He preached unity, but in the end, he sought only power.
Allura: I understand how you feel. I fell for Lotor’s lies as well.
Acxa: I’ll do everything I can out here to help the Voltron Coalition.
Hunk: Wow, so everyone that was helping us thinks we’re dead.
Pidge: Wait. I haven’t been able to get ahold of my dad on Earth or Matt and the Rebels. What’s happened to them in the last three years?
Allura: And if Ezor and Zethrid became warlords in that time… what else has changed?
END
#voltron#vld#transcript#voltron legendary defender#allura#keith#shiro#pidge#hunk#lance#krolia#coran#acxa#zethrid#ezor#romelle#space pirates
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While opposition to men in women’s prisons should focus on the safety of incarcerated women don't forget the impact dealing with these perverts have on female guards.
By CAROLINE DOWNEY May 28, 2024 6:30 AM
Female prison guards in California have been traumatized after being forced to perform naked strip searches on male felons under the state department of corrections’ gender-inclusion rules.
For decades, the department prohibited female officers from conducting unclothed strip searches on male inmates except in emergency circumstances, such as when a same-sex officer is not available or if the male inmate is at risk of harming themselves or others.
Now, “Incarcerated individuals who are transgender, non-binary, or intersex must be searched according to the gender designation of the institution where they are housed or based on the individual’s search preference,” according to official prison policy obtained by National Review.
This sudden shift in policy, officially implemented in 2021, has shaken female staff at the California Institution for Men, colloquially known as Chino. Some male inmates who identify as women, or have even undergone transition surgeries and hormone therapy, choose to stay at Chino rather than request a housing transfer to a women’s facility, such as the California Institution for Women.
While there, trans-identifying male inmates are entitled to request that they only be searched by female guards. The female guards are required to perform the searches or face penalties or termination, former and current female Chino officers told National Review.
Recently retired after 22 years as a corrections officer at Chino, Paula James experienced firsthand how the decision to accommodate trans-identifying inmates has made the state prison a scary and unfair place to work.
“As a corrections officer myself, I wasn’t supposed to be stripping male inmates down,” James told National Review. “You’re not supposed to unless it’s an emergency situation. You can get in trouble, it’s considered rape. . . . I’ve been taught that my whole career. Then all of a sudden, now some of these men are saying they are women, but they still have all the parts.”
Two years ago, at the facility, James was told she had to strip-search a trans-identifying male inmate on suicide watch who was checking in to the mental-health department for a 72-hour hold. There was no other female officer around that day to do it, she said.
“I told myself, ‘I’m getting ready to retire, I don’t want to have to do this,’” she said. “But that day I felt pressured into doing it. My sergeant told me I had to do it.”
Another female officer came into the bathroom to cover her as she frisked the inmate.
“The whole time, this inmate is making me feel like I’m doing something wrong,” James said.
Acting embarrassed, he covered his chest area and male genitals. James had to ask him to move his hand to make sure he wasn’t concealing a weapon or drugs to self-harm. The inmate requested on paper that a female rather than male officer check him.
“I didn’t feel comfortable about it, but I had to do my job,” she said.
James started to cry on the phone as she recounted the day. With a background in nursing, James said she didn’t expect to be so shaken from the incident. It felt degrading for both her and the inmate, she said.
“I didn’t realize how disgusted I felt after that until I walked out,” she said. James said she broke down in front of her friend as she explained what had happened.
“It was just not right,” she said. “Because I had been taught all that time that I wasn’t supposed to do that. It was really hard on me, even thinking about it today.”
While they’re now required to search male inmates, not so long ago, female officers could be punished for searching inmates of the opposite sex, even if they felt the search was justified due to an emergency situation.
A corrections officer of 19 years, who chose to remain anonymous out of fear of professional retribution, was transferred to Chino from a maximum-security facility in 2017, before the current gender-inclusion policy was implemented. Soon after arriving at the prison, the guard was disciplined for searching a male inmate who a colleague believed was hiding potentially dangerous contraband.
The search was conducted after a fellow female officer asked the guard for assistance because she witnessed what she believed was an exchange of contraband between two inmates who were prohibited from interacting.
“Just as I’m approaching him, the toilet flushes, which is a sign that he probably got rid of the contraband,” the guard said. “So, I conducted a clothed body search on him, and she was right there next to me. I ended up doing an unclothed body search, which our policy states that a female can under emergency circumstances.”
The guard said she deemed it an emergency because her friend was sure she saw a weapon or drugs in the man’s possession.
“I was completely professional about it and that was it,” she said.
Months later, she received the highest possible level of disciplinary action from her superiors. She appealed the decision on the grounds that the policy is ambiguous about what circumstances qualify as an “emergency.” She lost the case. An official in Chino’s employment office told her confidentially that the department wanted to fire her over the incident.
“Back in 2017, it was two male inmates, but now here we are seven years later, and they want me, if I’m given a direct order, I must strip out that trans inmate,” she said. “What’s the difference from when I stripped out that male inmate to now? It’s still a man.”
Prison officers are told in training that they could be fired for refusing to do a search on the opposite sex because “it’s refusing a direct order from your sergeant,” said James, the recently retired corrections officer.
While some younger female officers are more willing to comply with the new gender-inclusion policy because they’ve never experienced anything different, others expressed concern to James before she retired.
“I had younger officers coming to me saying, ‘Ms. James, what am I going to do?,” she recalled. “They want us to do this with these inmates now.’
Other female guards have reported to James that they think male inmates have requested to be searched by women “just to make the officer see them.”
Asked for comment, the California Department of Corrections reiterated that SB 132, The Transgender Respect, Agency and Dignity Act, allows incarcerated transgender, non-binary and intersex people to request to be housed and searched in a manner consistent with their gender identity.
“Ongoing training for staff and incarcerated people is paramount when handling the unique challenges facing this population,” the department said. “CDCR has developed and provided specialized training to staff to ensure they are aware of laws and departmental policies and to give them the knowledge and tools they need when interacting with the incarcerated transgender and non-binary communities.”
Paula confirmed that California, like Washington State, subsidizes transition procedures for male felons on taxpayer dime.
“We had a guy that was doing 60 years, he was a rapist,” James said. “He became a female, and he was going to go to the female facility, but they paroled him instead. I couldn’t believe it. . . . This guy got released to the streets.”
Once that inmate underwent the intervention, many other trans inmates started seeking out the procedures, she said.
“A lot of sexual predators, I hate to say it, are getting the surgery,” she said. “Even child molesters. It’s not good.”
One male inmate at Chino, after getting a phalloplasty, was brought back to the facility with durable medical equipment. One tool he was given was a dildo, to prevent the incision from closing, the anonymous female officer said.
“The state pays for them to have hair removal,” she added. “The state pays for them to have breast implants. The state pays for them to go to vocal classes.”
James, who worked in the medical area of Chino, often heard the crimes of the male patients.
One such patient was found guilty of consuming child pornography and sexually abusing his girlfriend’s daughter, she said. He too received the surgery from the state, she said.
“I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, why are they able to change to a female, then they can be, if they ever get out, they can prey on their victims even more?’” she said.
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Queening the Pawn Act 3 Part 10
REUPLOAD due to the original getting flagged. Unfortunately have to slap a community label on this one just in case, but it is also still public on Patreon!
Acts 1-2
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1. Close up on the Guide as she moves into the blank gray room, eyes focused intensely on its contents. Naked oily dream Guillermo stays behind her, arms crossed at attention behind his back, and cranes his neck out to one side to see. He asks, "Is this the memory you were looking for?" The Guide responds, "Yes...This is it. This is him."
2a. Close up on the red file box that reads '1758-1759 Willem Van Helsing' as the Guide kneels on the floor in front of it and strokes the lid, her arm and knee the only visible parts of her onscreen. She reads aloud, "...Willem Van Helsing..." 2b. Reverse shot of the Guide looking down at the box with some confusion and a dazed kind of nostalgia. She murmurs to herself, "I think I must have called him something else..." 2c. Extreme close up as Guide curls her fingers under the lid of the file box and lifts it.
3a. Shot of the Guide from the front as beams of multicolored lights burst out of the open box, blowing her hair back and casting strange shadows up and down her face. Wide eyed, she leans toward the opening as flashes of memory begin to beam themselves out and pile up behind her. 3c. A series of flashes within the light streaming from the open box: A man with dark hair and sideburns in a fancy gold 1750s suit dancing closely with a blonde woman in a pink dress from the same period, their faces turned toward each other and unseen by the viewer. Action shot of that same man in a plainer brown coat slashing across the screen with a bloodied wooden stake, eyes wild behind his arm. A man's hand outstretched, asking for a dance. That man standing in a gold suit, holding a delicate glass of champagne in his large hands and glancing over toward the viewer to offer a smirk. Close up of the man laughing, naked, leaning his head on one hand as if laying in bed with someone. Close up of the man in profile, looking back with a secret smile as he turns away. Close up of the man, naked, flushed, sweating, hair bouncing in motion, as he grins at whomever is under him. Shot of the man's naked back as he sits up and rolls away from a bed; a pale arm from the viewer's POV is following him, tracing the long pair of scratches that have been dragged down his back.
4a. A scene in sepia, on a mottled pinkish-gray background printed on a cracking pane of glass. Willem, unclothed, has his back to the viewer and a set of visible puncture wounds on his neck, bleeding sluggishly. In his lap is the Guide, or whoever she was before she was the Guide, hair wild and bouncing around her shoulders and over her face. She has one hand braced on Willem's shoulder and the other clutching at his back. She pants, blood smearing at the corner of her mouth, and tips her head back with a blissful smile as Willem's hand squeezes around her throat. He asks, "How do I taste?" She replies, "Hhaaa...filthy." 4b. Close up in profile. Willem laughs in response and begins to mouth his way down the Guide's chest, the hand at her neck loosening but keeping up a firm squeeze with the thumb and forefinger. The Guide tips her head back even further, smiling open-mouthed with his blood tricking down her cheek. 4c. Shot from above as Willem, hand having abandoned its choking in favor of squeezing the Guide's right breast, suddenly bites into her left. The Guide's eyes fly open, shocked, staring past the viewer at the ceiling above. The background fills with a blood splatter pattern. 4d. Full body from the side as the Guide leans back from her seat straddling Willem's lap, right hand flying up to cup the area and inspect the large bloody bite mark that is now present. Willem sits back as well, hands cupping the Guide's hips as he snickers, blood smeared across his teeth and face. The Guide scolds, "Wim!! Why-why would you do that?! You drank my blood! You will turn into a vampire now! Willem replies, chuckling, "No, I won't."
5a. Close up in profile, the background turned dark red with DNA swirls. Willem leans close and pinches the Guide's chin with his thumb and forefinger to pull her in as well, her blood dripping down his chin and his own blood now smeared on his hand as well as her cheek. He grins cockily and continues, "We never do. Bite away, baby. You'll only make me stronger." The Guide's eyes hood over in pleasure and submission, a small smile curling her lips. 5b. Repeat. They both lean in further for a kiss, to mingle their blood even further. Willem, lips still curled up in a grin, drags his hand back down to rest against the Guide's throat. The edge of the glass panel begins to crack and break off into pieces, revealing the black void beneath.
6. A series of broken glass shards falling down the screen on a black background, each containing fragments of another memory. The Guide in a nice pink dress, blood smeared all across her mouth and chin as she hunches over something, eyes looking up through her hair like a cornered animal. Wim in a gold suit standing to watch, looking unsure, the glass panel breaking over the arm he had been holding a stake in so that it drops. A pale hand with pink nails placing itself into a much larger one, accepting the dance. Broken into three pieces, a shot from behind Willem, shirt shrugged off his shoulders but still hanging to his belt, holding the Guide to him, bared of her dress to the waist, knees hooked around his hips and one arm looped around his neck as the other cups his face to pull it into a kiss. A sliver of a dark alley, two forms pressed close in the foreground as another wafts cigarette smoke from around the corner in the background. A close up of Willem's hand, dressed in a sleeve, pinning the Guide's down by the wrist. A close up of a human man, older and sporting a heavy mustache, peering around a wall with a cigarette in his mouth, looking very displeased. Willem laying on the ground, gagged, and dead or close to it, blood pouring from his neck to pool on the floor. The Guide in a mulberry dress, struggling as clawed vampire hands grip at her arms and wrists to drag her forward. The glass breaks above her nose, but a shard of one wide, terrified eye remains nearby. The Guide in profile in her mulberry dress, held by the arms by unknown hands, tips her head back and screams as hundreds more hands thrust out at her from the darkness like a rushing wave, the background pulsing with unnatural green light. A shard of the Guide's eye, rage and terror fading as green reflections flash past. A shard of smoke wafting upward. A shard showing blood dripping onto the floor. A shard showing a silver crucifix laying alone, broken in half and smeared with blood. A shard of the Guide pulling on a familiar pair of leather gloves. Each shard gets smaller and smaller until they fade into the darkness. /end ID
#wwdits#queening the pawn#wwdits the guide#willem van helsing#blood tw#death dw#what we do in the shadows#what we do in the shadows fx#my art#fanart#fan comic#image described
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Another Life (part 1): Eunyu
Sweet Home FF | Hyunsu x Eunhyuk
Summary: After everything has been said and done, there are still things that Hyunsu doesn't seem to remember. Warning/tags: mild angst, partial memory loss, emotional constipation, slow burn, mxm, no smut, found family, getting together, mild gore. Word count: approx. 16k for the whole thing, but will be posted in parts.
A/N: This takes place sometime after the video montage at the end of season 3, and then jumps back a little to season 1. I hope the characters won't be too OOC but this show has me in a chokehold and I had to do SOMETHING. Just know that creative liberties were taken… and by that, I mean that I watched My Demon after binging all seasons of Sweet Home, so any sort of lines are blurred at this rate. Anyhow, imagine that the trio of Hyunsu, Eunhyuk and Eunyu eventually break off from the rest of the survival camp to do their own thing. This is a slow drip, mostly about feelings and an attempt at character study so don't expect any plot. The title of this fic was inspired by Tom Odell’s song Another Love, as in ...all my tears have been used up on another love. Also, I'm new to tumblr so be kind >_< thought I'd try this thing out. Cheers~
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There's tentative relief on weary faces for the first time in many months when the monster pandemic hits a perplexing development; being devoured by one's inner demon isn't the end — it's the beginning of an evolutionary process only known to the elusive laws of the universe. Nonetheless, the primal fear of the unknown is still there, lurking in the recess of everyone's minds, even if it's not as paralyzing as it once were when the bizarre outbreaks first started.
Hyunsu stares somberly from the vantage point of a rooftop, or what's left of it really, at the demolished skyline that glitters in the far distance. The once tall, silvery sky-scrapers are now noting but crumbling blocks of pixels — admittedly, his whole damn life feels like a crumbling Tetris game at this rate.
With a heavy chest, Hyunsu closes his eyes on the absurd view. There's no use to mourn what once were. They're way past it, heading into a new era of humanity. And to think that it wasn't a world war nor an atomic nuke that had caused all of this mess, but a freaking curse. So before another peaceful moment gets cruelly taken away from him, Hyunsu leans against the railing, elbows perched atop it and tips his head up to face the delicate sun, enjoying its lukewarm rays caressing his skin.
It's an early spring. The morning chill still nips at bare cheeks and unclothed fingertips, but right around noon the bleak rays of the burning star, slowly but steadily, manage to warm whatever's left of their collapsing civilization. The natural order of things doesn't stop for anything. Like a sight for sore eyes the wild nature thrives now that there are no humans selfishly plundering its dwindling reserves or polluting its untouched terrains. But all the same, the bustling, green forests with rustling foliage and chirping birds are nothing but a mocking delusion of serenity, covertly hiding nightmare-inducing horrors within.
It's the silence, Hyunsu decides. It's so much worse than the screeches of bloodthirsty monsters and wails of humans on the brink of death, desperately begging for their lives. It's too quiet, too ghostly everywhere. If he ever believed in anything remotely religious, then he's quite sure, that this is how purgatory would look like — a damned place between heaven and hell, nor living or dead, an eternity of anxious uncertainty.
A flicker of motion, a shadow against a sliver of light, catches Hyunsu's attention even through his closed eyelids. Since he's aware that they're in a somewhat secure area, Hyunsu suppresses the sudden sense of urgency zapping through his body and instead opens his eyes slowly, almost lazily to the bleak light. It's Eunyu. He watches with vague interest as her slim silhouette drifts around the neighboring rooftop, a piece of ingenious engineering that hasn't yet crumbled during the ongoing war against humanity.
She has been doing this for a while now. Her human memories coming and going like a fickle tide and when something sticks long enough Eunyu ends up imitating it, steadily, with almost surgical precision going through the motions, cataloging every move and sensation inside her rewired mind.
Eunyu must have felt his stare, as she looks up, eyes grave and bottomless, lips faintly parted. She lowers her arms, letting them hang limply at her sides and gradually, limb by limb, turns her body around. The debris crunches lazily under her worn sneakers.
Eunyu looks detachedly at Hyunsu for a few seconds, face expressionless, and then tilts her head to the side in perfect imitation of curiosity.
She looks human, and yet—
Ignoring the pinch in his gut, Hyunsu smiles at her gently from afar. He's afraid to break the brittle illusion of normality and overwhelm her with everything he's feeling at the mere sight of her — everything she embodies; a wild force he once thought couldn't be crushed; a frail beginning that shouldn't be possible. And for a moment his mind gets caught between their strange existence, the long ago abandoned dreams that would make no sense in this fucked up world and the recurring everyday nightmares, a goading voice constantly whispering at the back of his mind.
What if?
What if they all had died?
What if Hyunsu had been the one to kill them?
What if everything is just an illusion inside his head?
Eunyu simply keeps staring at him, waiting, observing. She doesn't understand, can't read the emotions crashing across his face that's smeared with sweat and grime and dust. There are whole cities out there covered in dust — and blood. There's so much blood. Hyunsu can't get rid of it beneath his fingernails. No matter how much he scrubs and scratches at it in echoey bathrooms of abandoned buildings with hysterical sobs bubbling up inside his chest and manic laughter resounding in his ears, it's still there, deeply imbedded into his skin. Some nights he wakes up in cold sweat with a sour, metallic taste in his mouth from choking on gallons of lukewarm blood in his dreams, and needs to remind himself that he's no longer at the underground research facility, that all of it is over.
There is no government or politics, no military. No rules or even a society. All that's left is grueling survival for those who lived, huddling in the shadow of a new species.
Other nights he can't find his way out of his nightmares.
The forced smile slips slowly off Hyunsu's face. Perhaps it's better to be dead in this world, after all.
The monster inside of him doesn't disagree.
A chilly breeze chases through the hollow high-rise structure with a faint howl in the prolonged moment that unyieldingly stretches between them, cruelly trapping them in its deafening silence. The wind ruffles through Hyunsu's overgrown bangs, tugging on an edge of Eunyu's plaid skirt — god knows where she managed to scavenge it. With her hair loose and skin free of infected wounds and puckered up, unkind scars, Eunyu looks so much alike the first time he saw her on the roof of Green Home apartments, yet so very different. A bit older. Impersonal. Nothing but a perfect shell of her former self.
A nasty shiver rushes down Hyunsu's spine, prickling uncomfortably at his lower back and he averts his eyes before he crumbles under the weight of her placid gaze, under the painful twist of guilt in his gut.
No matter what, he should've done better. Should've fought harder to protect, to bring the people he cares about back from the brink of madness, before their personalities — their whole souls were sucked into the void.
But not everyone could be saved, and not everyone wanted to.
Hyunsu's shoulders hunch up as he casts his gaze down, blinking back the burn in his eyes, heart racing. He knows. He knows that Eunyu has a long way to go before she can even begin piecing together the broken shards of her lost humanity. She's not a completely lost cause. There are worse; people that can't sate their monstrous sized desire, forever lost in a fever dream; peaceful monsters that are killed ruthlessly before they even get a chance to return. It's just Hyunsu's own fault that he keeps foolishly forgetting about it. Each time their eyes lock he expects to find closely guarded fierceness and a smidge of familiar arrogance, perhaps sorrow imbedded deep within her brown gaze, a flicker of affection, a bit of teenage insecurity and rebelliousness.
However, there's nothing.
Just peace and serenity. No desire. No warmth.
Debris crunches under a pair of heavy booths and there's soon a familiar presence at his side, a cool hand on the curve of his tense shoulder. It's Eunhyuk.
next part >>
#sweet home#cha hyunsu#cha hyun-soo#lee eunyu#lee eunhyuk#fanfic#mxm#hyunsu x eunhyuk#sweet home season 3#kdrama
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Monster MC May: Jolene the Mermaid
AKA Jolene enters her misandry era.
Yeah I made this for @property-of-diavolo ‘s Monster May event. It kinda got away from me. Jolene is a singer, so my mind went to a mermaid. Totally inspired by the mermaids in pirates in the carribean.
Word count: 2,608. SFW - Mild violence, mentions of nudity, vague suggestive themes.
The heavy fog bounced the light of the two moons evenly across the beach, leaving the sand and sea in a hazy grey glow. The gloom matched Leviathan’s mood; Lucifer knew damn well that Levi had been chomping at the bit to play the new TSL mod for DemonSouls, yet he’d been called to deal with some eMeRgEnCy!!1 at the beach. It must have been a pathetic, useless emergency if they had to call in a pathetic, useless, gross-
“Leviathan! Over here!” Levi jumped at the booming voice. Lord Diavolo was here, too? Maybe there really was an emergency. Levi trudged through the sand to where he and Lucifer stood. Lord Diavolo smiled, still somehow unfairly handsome even as he held back worry. “I’m glad you could come so quickly.”
“What’s going on?” Levi asked, glancing between the two of them.
“It’s Jolene.” Diavolo’s smile faltered and he folded his arms. “She’s run off.”
Levi’s widened. “Fwarh?? What- what happened?”
“There was an… accident involving a bottle of monster essence.” The way Lucifer side-eyed Lord Diavolo explained all needed backstory. His brother sighed before continuing, “Anyway, when it hit Jolene, she seemed to have trouble breathing before teleporting away.”
“And we think she teleported to the sea because ocean water and a fish common to this area spilled into the classroom,” Lord Diavolo said before grinning at Levi again. “That’s why we’ve asked you here. No one else is better suited for the job.”
Levi felt his stomach swirl into a whirlpool. Of course the situation was urgent, 9but Lord Diavolo just said no one else was better suited for the job! What the fuck! “I- arghm- I mean yes sir! You can count on me!”
With a few more words of encouragement, Leviathan jumped into the water. His heavy tail propelled him through cold depths as he scanned the corals and seaweed for any sign of Jolene. Of course, there was every chance she wasn’t here, and he really was useless. Levi felt the urge to heavy sigh, but breathing underwater wasn’t the same as breathing on land. A voice pierced through the water, enveloping him like a silk cocoon. But that clear and mournful tone, he could have recognized it anywhere.
“Jolene?” Levi looked all around him, unable to tell where the haunting melody came from. Jolene swam up from below him and the demon felt his mouth run dry. Her black hair flowed around her like a cloud of ink, a sharp contrast to the white skin of her unclothed body - no, upper body. Beyond her waist, lavender scales knit into her skin until they completely overtook her and fused into a long tail adorned with translucent fins along the edges and the tip. As she sang, she gazed at him with more despair than anyone should ever go through. Levi felt her isolation freeze his bones solid, and he just wanted to help her, show her that someone could love her how she needed. He closed the distance between them and her song softened, just low enough for him to hear. She sang only for him, calling to her one true love. Within arm’s reach, Leviathan reached out and took hold of her shoulders. Jolene cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer, and his eyes shut in anticipation.
A sharp pain stabbing through his neck broke the spell. Levi yelped as her talons dug into his skin. His eyes snapped open, and the sight of her soft face twisted into a gnarled scowl greeted him. The sheer hate in her eyes stole the words from his throat as she dragged him down into the dark abyss below them. Levi only focused on unhooking her claws from his neck. They sank deeper into his flesh, and the scent of his blood began to saturate the water around them. He grabbed both of her wrists and yanked himself free, yelping again as bits of his skin tore away. Was Jolene trying to kill him? As if to answer his question, she wrung one of her hands free and swiped her talons across his face. Reacting on instinct, Leviathan summoned the power of the ocean’s current to sweep her away. Jolene screamed as it pulled her into the abyss. Levi only wanted to put more distance between them, and he shot up to the surface and jumped through the waves as he fled to dry land. In his panic, he only realized he reached the shore when he dive bombed into the sand. He lied there, mind racing from what happened. With sore muscles, Levi pulled himself up from the ground and spat the sand from his mouth.
“Leviathan!” He heard Lucifer call out as he and Lord Diavolo ran his way. When Levi turned to them, they both froze with wide eyes. “What happened?”
“I… I found Jolene…” he said, voice shaking. “She, uh, wasn’t happy to see me. N-not like anyone is ever happy to see me-”
“What was she like?” Lord Diavolo cut him off. “Did he look human?”
Levi shook his head. “No, no she was definitely a mermaid. She sang and…” The memory of her song and the way it drew him in brought chills to his spine. As if to make up for his lack of words, Jolene’s voice rang out all around them. The three demons froze. Levi realized he had overreacted. It was just a scratch, nothing to get his panties in a bunch about! He should apologize for reacting violently and make sure she wasn’t injured. “I’M COMING, JOLENE!”
“No!” Before he could take off running, Lucifer grabbed him by the roots of his hair. Despite Levi’s protests, Lucifer and Diavolo dragged him away from his one true love.
--
Solomon scowled to himself as he steered the small motorboat out over the ocean. He kept reminding himself that despite the risk of being drowned, he was doing this to help Jolene. That didn’t mean he had to like it. He argued that Barbatos could do the job just as well, but they needed the angel’s blessing to protect them from Jolene’s song. Obviously, that left only Solomon.
Once he got far enough out into the ocean, he killed the engine and looked around. Without the roaring, the sound of the waves slapping against the side of the boat filled the air as he waited. Diavolo issued a temporary ban on going to the beach or in this part of the sea, ensuring that Solomon would be the only one around for miles. He let out a heavy sigh. All Solomon had to do was teleport Jolene to one of the oubliettes in the demon lord’s castle. Leviathan flooded the cell with seawater and Lucifer sealed the only trap door entrance. It was enough to keep everyone safe from Jolene as they figured out how to break her curse. Of course, none of that will work unless Solomon could lure her out to him. He knew of one way to get a mermaid’s attention.
“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold, there is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold.”
His song vanished into the air, smothered by the saturation of sea water. The smell of salt filled his lungs. His boat rocked with the waves. He waited.
”His hair as white as cotton, his eyes as grey as stone, my happiness attend him wherever he may roam.”
Solomon froze. Unable to find a hold on his mind, her voice clawed at him, a vicious predator trying to break down a door. The personalized lyrics only amplified his dread. Slowly, he turned around and looked down to the water. Jolene treaded the water, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Solomon took a deep breath; he needed to cast the spell before she decided to capsize his small boat. He muttered the words quickly to open a portal behind her. Upon feeling the pull of the water as it flowed through the portal, Jolene hissed and lunged at Solomon, catching the edge of the boat in one hand. The violent rocking sent Solomon tumbling into the water. Freezing water paralyzed him until he felt the stabbing of talons into his neck. Solomon shrieked out his held breath. Without thinking, the sorcerer summoned every last bit of power within him and focused the raw, unrefined magic to his attacker. Jolene’s hold on his neck broke with a scream that only stopped when the portal consumed her and closed.
With frantic movements, Solomon clawed his way to the surface and gasped in desperate breaths once he emerged. He took a few moments to soothe his burning lungs before swimming back to the boat, thankfully still upright. Once in, he turned on the engine, thankful for the noise drowning out the waves as he returned to shore. If further help was required to rectify the situation, Solomon would gladly help from a distance.
--
Jolene’s song echoed from her makeshift prison through the dungeons and seeped into the lower levels of the castle. Lucifer - being strong enough to resist her call - sealed the trapdoor to the oubliette with a curse that no demon could open. Even with that protection, Diavolo forbade his staff from going anywhere near the dungeons. While the young lord had other matters to attend to, the seven brothers searched for the remedy to the situation. As it turned out, it wasn’t finding the solution that proved troublesome.
“See, it’s right here!” Mammon held up a book and pointed aggressively to one line. “‘A kiss from a loved one reverses the effects of the monster essence!’”
“Stop holding the book like that,” Satan scolded from the other side of the table. “You’re going to break the spine.”
“Yer just jealous that the Great Mammon found the answer first!” he said with a grin. “And since I’m Jolene’s first, it should be me-”
Lucifer snatched the book from Mammon’s hand. “Jolene’s first what, exactly?” With the unspoken implication shutting the second-born up, he looked over the book. “It does appear that we’ve found our solution. It should be simple from-”
“WAYAAAAAAAWAAAAAAAAAAH!” Leviathan’s wail bounced off the walls as he slammed his head into the table. “I knew it! I knew she could never love a gross otaku like me!” he whined. “I was right there, I was about to kiss her, but she just stabbed me in the neeeeeeeeck!”
“Levi, calm down,” Satan spoke up again. “That might not actually be the case.”
“MIGHT?!” he repeated with even further indignation.
“Listen!” Satan snapped at his brother’s interruption. “I’ve been reading up on mermaids. Some believe they’re the spirits of the women who were thrown into the sea because it was considered bad luck to have a woman on a ship. Now the mermaids take revenge by using their song to lure men in and drown them.” He shut his book and looked up at the others. “And I think it’s safe to assume as far as she’s concerned, we’re all men to be drowned.”
“So Jolene is not likely to let any of us kiss her,” Lucifer added, folding his arms. “Well, does anyone have any other ideas?”
After a few moments of silence, Satan spoke up again. “I think I do.”
--
“Thanks for being able to come so quickly,” Satan said as he drove to the demon lord’s castle.
“Mmm, I’m more curious about why you need my help.” Thirteen sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with the air conditioning just to fiddle with it. “Still haven’t said I would help.
Satan let out a slow, deep breath from his nose. “Well, it’s about Jolene. She needs some help getting back to normal.” After a brief explanation, the reaper burst out laughing.
“Oh man, that’s hilarious!” She wiped an exaggerated tear from her eyes. “You guys are really shit out of luck on this one, right?”
“Well, you know the situation now. Are you going to help?” he asked, briefly looking her way.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Even as Satan looked away, Thirteen focused on keeping herself nonchalant. She’d cleaned up her fair share of shipwrecks, and the few mermaids she saw never paid her any mind, the mermaid thing wasn’t the problem. Breaking the curse involved a kiss from a loved one, but what if it didn’t work? What if this was how Thirteen found out that she cared for Jolene more than Jolene cared for her? The thought sickened her. To soothe herself, Thirteen turned to the window controls and rolled the window down and up and down and up and down, wondering how long it would take until Satan snapped at her.
--
Thirteen stood at the edge of the trapdoor. The seal only affected demons, she wouldn’t have a problem opening it. She almost didn’t want to try and instead run off back to her old ways where she wasn’t bound to anyone. The only thing keeping Thirteen in place was the sound of Jolene’s voice coming from below. The mermaid’s song had no magical effect on the reaper, but Jolene’s certainly did. That stupid, squishy squishy human had an iron grip on Thirteen’s stone heart. The only thing worse than learning Jolene really didn’t care for her was the thought of her being stuck in that dark cell forever. Thirteen lifted the trap door and let it fall open with a loud thud on the stone floor. Jolene’s singing stopped, filling the dungeon with an eerie silence.
“Hey, Jo, you in there?” Thirteen peered into the oubliette. What little light reached the water bounced off and reflected against the stone walls. After a moment, Jolene emerged from the water and looked up at her. Thirteen couldn’t help but smile. “There you are. What are you doing in a place like this?”
Jolene only stared up at her, not saying anything. Thirteen didn’t expect a response, and since the oubliette was so deep, there wouldn’t be any kissing unless she went in. After taking off her boots and untying the jacket around her hips, she used the rope ladder to climb down. The light from the dungeon seemed brighter as she descended further into the stone abyss. Maybe she should trap that sham of a sorcerer in here with Sherry the Blue Shark. Once her foot hit the top of the water, Thirteen let go and jumped in.
“Oh this is disgusting!” she yelled. The water was murky from the dirt and grime of the prison. “I can’t believe they’re making you live like this!”
Jolene giggled, a small sound that barely sounded over the lapping water. Thirteen found herself grinning back. How was that smile so damn infectious, even more than that one plague she had to clean up? Slowly, Thirteen swam closer, closing the distance between them.
“C’mon, you want to get out of here, right?” she said, keeping her voice soft. “The two of us can go get some sweets from Madame Scream’s and go to that spot by the lake? I got a better picnic blanket so the rocks won’t dig into your back.” They inched closer. The water swirled around her legs as Jolene’s powerful tail kept her afloat. Gently, Thirteen cupped her cheek and when Jolene didn’t pull away, she leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met. Just like every time before, the world felt a bit warmer, a bit brighter. The push of the water weakened, only stirred by Jolene’s legs. When they pulled apart, Jolene blinked and looked around.
“What… what the fuck…”
Thirteen couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll fill you in later. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
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—
Ticking wall clock. Footsteps were heard down the corridor, the door creaked and the silence was interrupted by a low voice of a man. A strict suit, shoes and a leather bag on his shoulder. Looking at the incoming manager, the guy put down the phone nervously rubbing the pen in different directions.
- Hanma, are you finished?, — the man went to the desk and took a couple of papers from it. He added, — I hope you've done the right thing and I don't have to redo your work for you. That would be a shame, there's enough to do.
- Good evening, Mr Haitani, yes, that's right. Just as you ordered, without a single slip. I've spent hours on them and it would be a shame if I had to redo them. It's well past eight o'clock in the evening and I want to go home.
Hanma's voice was a little higher, for the man himself was only twenty-five years old. A brief conversation and there was silence again. A click of the pen cap and the younger man rose from his chair. Going to the panoramic windows he carefully made sure that the manager's car had left and taking the spare keys to Rana's office he went there. Calmly walking through the corridors, Hanma met a few maids and wished them a good rest. A dark oak door, a click and here the brunet was already inside. Smelling the expensive cologne, he immediately threw off his jacket and went to the wardrobe where the manager's things were. Even though this man is over forty years old, he still looks twenty-five, leads an active lifestyle, eats right, goes to the gym and loves to cook. All these qualities and marks swirled around in Hanma's mind without giving her peace of mind. Her clothes became tight, her body sweated and became a little clammy. Removing his jacket, which he threw on the sofa, he took off his trousers, shirt and socks. The window was ajar and the cold air was blowing over his body, giving him thousands of goosebumps. Diving into the wardrobe again, the guy lowered himself down and, like a junkie, inhaled the odour of the groin area. Clutching his leg a little and mooing quietly, the man stopped thinking at all. After a little while he was already standing completely naked, panting in the odours, but the whole high was interrupted by the click of the keyhole. Finishing his dirty business, Hanma quickly grabbed his things and closed the wardrobe standing in it. The boy decided to buryhimself in some of Rana's things so that he wouldn't be immediately noticed. The door clicked again and heavy footsteps sounded. Holding his breath, he prayed that he wouldn't be found or suspected. The desk lamp switched on in the office, and then the man began rustling papers in the drawer.
- God..., — Shuji whispered quietly, biting his trousers with his teeth. It was getting hot and stuffy in the wardrobe, and he wanted to get out of it so he wouldn't suffocate. The rustling continued. Sometimes Haitani walked past the wardrobe as if looking for something. The footsteps made the boy tense, and he closed his eyes and kept reciting all the prayers he had learnt over the years in the village. After some more time the light went out and the cupboard door opened.
- Fucking hell..., — came the sound in Hanma's head and he closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't be noticed. Abruptly, he felt cold and scared. What if he got fired? It was an offence. He'd snuck into someone else's office, gone through God knows what he'd been doing, and now he was completely unclothed.
- and I was wondering what that strange smell was, the smell of cheap perfume. It's interesting to see you here, Shuji, — he said, still standing, hoping that he would just leave and say something tomorrow, but no, — Come on, get out. You're obviously hot in there, — The guy shook his head in denial and then he was thrown out of the wardrobe with his clothes. The brunet fell to the floor completely naked, — how interesting it is when I leave.
- Don't swear, I'll be right out, — he whispered quietly and got up with his back slightly covered.
- You've decided to satisfy yourself with perfume, haven't you? What a total pervert.
- I'm sorry, Mr Haitani.
- What a load of rubbish. Don't you have anything else to do? Although you're naked in my wardrobe right now. You waited for me to leave on purpose,— the older man sat down at the table and said,— keep masturbating.
- What?
- Masturbate, I said. Here and now, since you've already started.
The man grinned and stood up from the table, walking towards the boy with heavy steps. He slapped his cheek, leaving a red palm print. Hanma rested his hands on the floor with his head down and his clothes exposed his boner.
- What wasn't clear in what I said?
- It was clear.
- I can see it.
The toe of Haitani's shoe travelled the length of his cock and pressed the flesh against his stomach. The man hissed softly, but didn't look up. Snorting unhappily, Ran moved away from him and sat down at the table again.
- It's disgusting, it's disgusting, come on, masturbate faster,— he said, touching other people's flesh, even in shoes, was disgusting.
Hanma bit his lip and ran his hand over his swollen cock. The hairs on his intimate area tingled slightly, but it was pleasant in its own way. The boy was very embarrassed. Not only had he been caught doing something dirty, but he'd been forced to do it in front of a man Hanma would later hate.
- Well done, bitch. Keep it up.
- I'm not a bitch.
- What are you? Tell me, what are you?
- I'm a man.
- A man, bitch. Go on.
- Fuck you.
Shuji stood up and hurried towards the exit. Suddenly he was tugged by his wrist. With a quiet hiss, he spun around and was thrown back against the wall, then pinned against it. A low voice said something, then whispered, and another slap sounded. The brunet's eyes read a lot of swear words, but he kept them to himself. A smirk appeared on the man's face, the corners of his lips lifted, and Ran whispered again. A couple of seconds, and then rough fingers were around a nipple, squeezing it. A soft cry rippled through the office, and Hanma hurried to shield himself from the stranger's hand. It was painful and uncomfortable, and therefore an enemy to the body.
- Let me go.
- Oh no, the creature must stand still. And if it doesn't, I'll have to punish it.
- What are you, - he was slapped in the face again before he could finish, - enough!
- Oh, how we talk, what an insolent beast.
- I'm not a beast!
- You're lying.
- No, I'm not.
- I'll cut your tongue out.
- What a bastard you are. I'm already regretting coming here.
- Nobody told you to run in here and jerk off. You wanted to, you came here and sniffed your clothes like a fucking junkie.
- shut your mouth and let me go.
- No, bitch, I'm not gonna let you just walk away. You're a toy that was brought here for me. I have to figure out what to do with you or I'll get bored.
- Mr Haitani, let's forget all this and go around each other like ships at sea.
- In that case, I want to become an iceberg to sink you and kill your life. You will lie at the bottom like a pathetic and helpless piece of shit in this world.
- I hate you.
- believe me, it's only temporary. Then you'll lose your head and you won't be able to live a day without me. You'll suffer because I'm not around. Hanma, honey, you'll go crazy.
- What nonsense, Mr Haitani, do you know what you're talking about?
- Of course, you'll realise it later, too.
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Happiness - Redux 13. Memory Leak
He returned to his meager room. It was true, just as Sapphire’s manual said. And he was sure he already knew, or heard before. But to see it with his own eyes, that was another story.
When he entered his room, he was surprised to see the light on in the bathroom and the sound of water running. His first thought was, “did I leave the sink running by mistake this morning?”
The sound of running water ceased. It only took a minute for the bathroom door to open and steam filled the room as the culprit was revealed: Tempy.
She was unclothed. Her damp hair looking like a mop head covered in mud. Little droplets of water ran down her face, her arms, her chest, her stomach, her legs. Of course, it being unavoidable, he stared down at her sagging, large breasts and her bushy, curly pubic hair next. She smelled in equal measure of rain against pavement as well as fresh strawberries. At least one of those fragrances came from a shampoo or soap.
And, of course, she had a towel wrapped around her...neck. Exposing all the rest of her while leaving her neck as the sole warm and dry area. So, of course, he had one thing to say:
“You take showers?” He gasped.
Her expression, previously blank, turned to a smug one.
“That surprises you?” She asked.
“Well, I figured since Selkies are machines, water damage might be a concern.”
She raised an index finger.
“Partially machines. We still have skin. We still get dirty.”
“But, what about your internal processor?”
She inched closer to Turtle Dove. Up close, her intoxicating scent was stronger, and he found himself close to fainting, weak to such floral scents.
“Let me put it this way,” she grabbed him by the wrist and brought his hand up to his face. He tried to struggle free, but she overpowered him. Just as she always did. She brought his index finger up to his forehead. “If I sliced open your head, say a surgical cut, and exposed your brain, how well do you think you would do with streams of water rushing down upon it?”
He gulped. Both at the gruesome thought she sprung into his mind as well as at her swaying, heavy breasts which conjured up imagery of a swinging, bladed pendulum.
She leaned in close to his ear, her thick breath tickling his lobe.
“If water were to flood the inside of my skull, that would be trouble. But that’s why we have skulls, isn’t it? To protect what commands us.”
He shuddered. His legs quivered. She knew what she was doing, and he knew it as well.
“So,” she pulled back, “I can still get wet and be just fine. In fact,” she took his hand once again and pressed it between her thighs and just against her crotch. Her warm, wet pussy was all too apparent and it seemed like at any moment, his fingers would be sucked in. Worse, that might have been her goal all along. “I can get wet in all sorts of ways.”
“I can tell,” he said through quivering lips.
“Self-lubricating,” she whispered.
He tried to pull away, but her grip was firm. With no other option, he slipped two fingers in and felt her slick, soft insides.
“There we go,” she stroked his hair. “Good girl. Now, imagine you’re stranded in the middle of the ocean and a shark is fast approaching. You start flailing your legs, but your body won’t move. You call out for help, and the movement of your legs only serves to attract the shark your way.”
“What?!” He mouthed out. If that was supposed to be sexy, he missed the point, and with a swift motion, he pulled away. “OK. That was nice. But there’s more important things.”
She pursed her lips. Either a pout or an imitation of one. Turtle Dove ignored it, walked past her, and toward the bathroom.
“Did you enjoy it?” She asked.
“I did,” he admitted.
“Good job on being honest,” her smile widened.
Half an hour later, he too had showered and washed up, and by the time he emerged to get dressed, Tempy was nowhere to be seen.
“I wonder if I should be concerned with how much of a free spirit she is,” he remarked while getting dressed. Like it or not, he had begun to get used to her coming and going as she pleased. Once all dressed, his stomach growled. It was about supper time, but at the risk of missing out on a meal, he headed over to the secret lab where Sapphire and Scisso resided.
The two were painting each other’s nails, synchronized in their movements and seated across from each other on the balcony.
“Sorry to interrupt. I have a question to ask,” Turtle Dove called up.
“Is it about the manual?” Sapphire asked. Zero hesitation. And zero pause in her polishing Scisso’s nails.
“Yes. In a sense. I was wondering what it was like to...I hope this isn’t too invasive...have the memories of someone else in you.”
“Talking about me or Scisso?” She asked. Again, no pause. Didn’t even turn her head.
“Given our situation, he could easily be talking about both of us. You’ve seen them as well as I have, dearest,” Scisso cooed.
“Oh, right. Those memories. It’s shocking at first, but you get used to it. It’s just something Selkies deal with, and sometimes when you’re jacked on, you experience it, too.”
“So have you seen the memories of the person Scisso Ring was based on?” Turtle Dove cut to the chase. That finally caused Sapphire to turn around, her eyebrow raised.
“I have. Not by choice, but circumstance. As for whether you want to know, that’s a private matter,” she answered.
“I don’t mind,” Scisso flashed a smile, “it’s a life separate from mine, but I enjoy seeing how her life...as well as her death...turned out. For most Selkies, the moments our models were dying are our freshest memories.”
He remembered Willie and Pecker.
“So that’s what you meant back then,” he muttered.
She nodded.
“I don’t have to jack on to know what you’re referring to. They say the intention with transferring these memories to us were to give us personalities that matched our models. Resurrection, of sorts. What many of us Selkies believe, however, is that we were given such memories to make us seem more ‘human’. What actually happens is that we have two sets of memories: the ones of the deceased and the ones we form for ourselves.”
“Isn’t that traumatizing?”
Scisso shrugged.
“Everyone reacts differently. Some go so far as to believe they are this person. I just find the whole thing amusing. I, for one, like the goth aesthetic.”
“Statistically speaking, goth women tend to date average looking men with inflated egos and the personality of drywall,” a husky voice emerged from the shadow of the balcony. Who emerged was Tempy, who didn’t even bother to look Turtle Dove’s way. Sapphire flinched and almost fell back in her seat. Scisso held her shoulder to keep her from falling.
“You have to stop sneaking up on us like that!” Sapphire shouted.
“Also, what you just said was a terrible stereotype,” Scisso added in a surprising display of offense.
“Even more so than other demographics, goth women are less likely to date other women. For those who have, their relationships rarely last more than 6 months,” Tempy added.
“Are you saying I’m one of a kind?” Scisso flashed a grin.
“I’m just sexually frustrated,” Tempy admitted. “Pay it no mind. So, how about a threesome?”
“No,” Sapphire and Scisso said in unison.
Turtle Dove walked away, and while he wished for more detail as to Scisso’s ‘past life’, he was satisfied to hear her perspective. Of course, Turtle Dove could tell Tempy wasn’t ‘satisfied’ and refused to look him in the eye.
Fine, he thought. Maybe she’ll start telling me what she wants rather than forcing me into things.
He missed supper. Eating habits were never very consistent, but even so, the timing couldn’t have been any worse. Defeated, he made it back to his room. He already knew how he would feel when he rested his head and would have rather endured one of those group showers he had been avoiding.
On cue, when he entered his room, he heard the sound of running water from the bathroom: someone showering.
“Tempy? How did she get back here so fast?” He asked.
But a few minutes later, the one who emerged from the bathroom was the chiseled body of Dickens, his rugged and scarred abs in plain view. He was wearing camo pants, but his towel was still wrapped around his waist.
“It’s...you?” Turtle Dove blinked.
“Hey,” he raised his hand up and on one shoulder was a black shirt. He slipped into it and then wrapped the towel around his hair. “I’ve been worried about you and I happened to run into your Selkie. She said you’d have no problem with me using your shower and let me in.”
Such a warm, radiant face of his, covered in hot shower droplets. It should have been an amazing sight, but instead, all he felt was confusion. Questions blended together:
When did she let him in? How did she appear in the secret lab without me noticing? Why did she let him in?
“Yeah. I guess it’s okay,” Turtle Dove said.
Dickens sat upon the bottom bunk of the bed and spread his legs out. It left plenty of room for Turtle Dove to get in between and lean in, unzipping his pants and…
Is that why men spread their legs when they sit? He wondered.
Rather than act on impulse, he sat next to Dickens.
“I hope you weren’t avoiding me,” Dickens chuckled.
“Not at all,” Turtle Dove shook his head, “I was avoiding all those other guys.”
“Understandable. I wish I could have done more, but being one guy in a sea of guys and all…”
“Don’t worry about it. I like showering in private more, anyway.”
“Good,” Dickens said with a grin, “how are you adjusting?”
“It’s still so strange, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of things. Thank you,” Turtle Dove replied.
“Seems I didn’t have as much to worry about as I thought. So...have you had sex with any of your Selkies yet?” Dickens’s question turned Turtle Dove’s already dark room into a sick, green glow.
“What?”
“Tell me, why did you want to be a commander?” Dickens pivoted to a different question.
“My sister was slaughtered by Correctors.”
“I can relate,” Dickens hung his head low. “I joined after my girlfriend was killed by a Corrector. Her name was Citrine. My name was Topaz. I went by Dickens after she died to separate myself from my past. Even then, I couldn’t imagine anyone, or anything, ever replacing my girlfriend. Now, however, it’s more like a civic duty.”
“Civic duty?”
“Yeah. Our Selkies are made to have sex with.”
“But I thought you disagreed with guys like Corvette.”
“I do,” Dickens shook his head, “he takes his Selkies by force. He’s within his right, but there’s no need to go that far. If you show them respect and treat them well, they’ll want to have sex with you anyway. In fact, they see it as a sign of respect to have sex with them when they want to.”
“So...as a sign of respect...would you have sex with me?” The words escaped Turtle Dove’s lips and his vision turned bright blue and he froze in place. Dickens stared in shock.
“I’m flattered, but I couldn’t do that to you. There’s a hierarchy. Selkies are commanders' subordinates. If we were to have sex, one of us would have to be in a greater position of power and I wouldn’t want to do that to you.”
"I understand," he lied.
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Trick or Treat: Real Halloween Murders
Halloween has a bad rap. But, that’s not to say that there haven’t been any baddies doing bad stuff on the most badass of nights… or at least close to it. So, If you aren’t scared of ghosts and ghoulies coming through the veil on the darkest of nights, here’s a few stories that will help you fear the most terrifying of monsters… that jackass down the street.
Wrong Race, Wrong Number
Way back in the extremest of decades, the 90s, a Japanese exchange student named Yoshihiro Hattori was on his way to a Halloween party. Unfamiliar with the neighborhood, Hattori couldn’t find the right address for the party.
When he finally believed he had arrived, he knocked on the door. Receiving no response, he walked back toward his car. In an unexpected turn of events, the door of the house suddenly swung open, and Hattori, thinking he had found the right place, stated, “We are here for the party.” But there was no party to be had at that address, he was fatally shot by a man standing in the doorway.
Peairs faced charges of manslaughter, yet he invoked the “castle doctrine,” a concept whereby Americans assert the right to use deadly force to protect their homes. As a result, a jury found him not guilty.
Hattori’s father expressed his lingering grief in 2012, saying, “Sometimes I feel like he’s still in America. Someday he’ll come back home, I say to myself.”
That Girl Screwed Around With the Wrong Girl
The subsequent investigation led to the apprehension of a woman named Joan Rabel. It was revealed that Rabel had a sexual relationship with Peter’s wife, Betty.
The theory suggests that Rabel persuaded another woman, Goldyne Pizer, to carry out the murder of Peter. Both Rabel and Pizer were found guilty of second-degree murder and were given five years to life.
Eventually, both women were released. Betty, however, was never brought to trial in connection with her husband’s tragic demise.
Nun, Nun more black.
On All Halloween, 1981 Sister Tadea Benz’s lifeless body was found unclothed in a Texas convent. The fellow nuns in the convent raised an alarm as they noticed a shattered window in the communal area.
Turns out a witness saw a man, Johnny Frank Garrett, who resided across the street, fleeing from the convent the same evening. This led to Garrett’s arrest. In 1992 he was convicted and sentenced to death for the crime.
His final words before his execution have been recounted as, “I’d like to thank my family for loving me and taking care of me. The rest of the world can kiss my ass.”
Every Last One of ‘Em
In a horrifying act of violence, Liske savagely beat his older stepbrother, Derek Griffin, and his father, William Liske, to death with a hammer, finishing off his father with a gunshot. He then sexually assaulted and shot his stepmother, Susan Liske.
William Liske pleaded guilty to three counts of aggravated murder. However, the story took another dark turn when, in 2015, he was found dead in his jail cell after having taken his own life.
So Enjoy Your Evening
Enjoy the night and send out your kids, and remember one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite horror flicks, “…it ain’t the weird ones you gotta watch out for.”
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