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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 month ago

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the butchery of the beloved, the boulder, the bimbo and the brilliant

kinktober, day twenty-five

a/n: ahhh, it's finally time to share the kinktober fic you all helped shape!! it turned out so fucking unhinged and i love it. happy halloween, folks!

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

summary: “they–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

warnings: dark!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, slasher au, final girl!reader, 00’s slutty horror movie vibes, found family, nonverbal, murder, violence, blood, gore, crying, alcohol consumption, smoking, possessiveness, jealousy, mask kink, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, dirty talk, just the tip, pussyjob, oral, spit kink, impact play, pain kink, choking, bondage, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, references to anal/painal

word count: 7400

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masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

It all started at a lunch table, as so many friendships do.

The first one to sit was Hana, the nurturing soul of the group who had been a genius even back then. The next to join was Brian, the blonde bombshell whose smile brightened any room he entered. Then came Oliver, the guy who at twelve years old had stood up to the bully you couldn’t face yourself and swore from that day on he’d do so for each and every one of you till the end of your days. And lastly, there was you, in many ways the glue of the little pack.

To say that the four of you were thick as thieves didn’t even begin to cover it, as you’d been there for each other in every up and down in each of your lives since adolescence. Even when your mother passed, especially when your mom passed, that’s when you truly knew that they weren’t just your pals, but your family.

“Oh wow,” you breathed as you gazed out the window to the destination you’d finally reached, “is this really your dad’s cabin?” you glanced over your shoulder at the man behind the wheel, a proud smirk ever on his lips.

“Yep,” Rafe nodded and reached down to put the car in park.

You’d met him at the beginning of this semester and it hadn’t taken you very long at all to fall embarrassingly and completely head over heels for the guy.

Though he wasn’t the first boyfriend to grow to be a part of the tight-knit clique, he hadn’t been welcomed with open arms as you remembered Jerome, Brian’s partner, had two years ago. The gentle giant of few words had melted into your dynamic so naturally that none of you remembered any longer a time before him. But it wasn’t like that this time, not with Rafe. For some reason, your friends just couldn’t warm up to the frat guy you loved so dearly.

As you heard the other car roll to a stop behind you, the vehicle where the four remaining resisted, your fingers dipped down into your pocket and fished out your phone to snap a photo of the luxurious lake house and its breathtaking views, though that’s when you noticed the lack of bars up in the upper corner of the screen.

“Oh, damn it…” you squinted down at your phone, “is there seriously no service out here?”

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Rafe snatched out the keys, “this place is pretty off-grid, you have to probably walk half an hour or something to get any signal.”

The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched beneath your shoes as you stepped out of the car and tipped your head back to glance up at how high the surrounding pine trees stretched up towards the cloudy sky.

As Rafe hopped up onto the wide porch and fiddled with a bundle of keys to unlock the place, your gaze kept finding him as you hung back a while and helped your friends unload their car.

“Can you all please promise to play nice this weekend?” you quietly asked them.

“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, yanking out a heavy duffle bag, “I’ll play nice if he does, which I sincerely doubt since I haven’t yet discovered one kind bone in his body.”

“Oh, come on,” you defended your beau, “he’s the one who suggested this trip so that you could all finally discover what a sweet guy he actually is,” before you all ascended the short steps and filtered into the abode.

Not soon after you all crossed the threshold, Rafe’s arms seized your waist and drew you back against him, whispering in your ear that he wanted to give you the grand tour of the house.

However, when you reached the room that was to belong to the two of you for the rest of the weekend, his ulterior motives for the journey around the cabin became crystal clear.

At first, when he wrapped his arms around you from behind as you gazed out the tall windows at the foot of the bed, a giggle bubbled in your belly as you felt his desire poke the small of your back. Though it was already during his palm’s swift voyage under the hem of your shirt and up towards your boobs that he let slip what crucial item he’d neglected to pack.

“You didn’t bring any condoms?” you twisted around to glare at the persistence that still sparkled in his eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t let that fact spoil our fun,” he pulled you back into his arms, “don’t you want me to dick you down this weekend, huh?” he murmured in your ear.

“Well, I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you slowly pushed him back, “so it’ll just have to be another weekend.”

But then he seized your hand and brought it down to the palpable tent in his jeans, “babe, come on. Just feel how hard I am. You can’t just leave me like this, not when it’s your fault to begin with.”

Your mouth then fell open as a shy scoff rolled off your tongue, “I literally haven’t done a thing, how is it my fault?”

“Come on, don’t act like a prude,” his grip around your wrist shifted and it slid down to rub your palm against his hardness, “be a good girl and at the very least get down on your knees.”

“No,” you chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off of him enough to stumble closer towards the bedroom’s exit, “if you’re so desperate, then take care of it yourself.”

Even though winter was creeping ever nearer, each one of you still dared to go down to the lake’s small pier and soak up the mild rays of autumn sun that peeked out behind the clouds. Both Hana and Oliver even gathered enough courage to take a dip in the cool water, though weren’t successful in any of their attempts at talking the rest of you into the same.

Though when your friends in the water began to splash at one another, Oliver teasingly let some splatter upon Brian as he sat on the edge, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky as he relaxed back against his boyfriend.

“Oh my god! Don’t!” he tensely straightened up, his tone startling Jerome enough that his palm that rested on Brian’s waist tightened, “stop! You’re giving me flashbacks to summer camp!”

As you heard your grinning friend in the lake apologise, you opened your mouth to note, “that’s right, I forgot you went to camp when we were kids.”

“Yeah, it was honestly revolting,” Brian recoiled slightly at the recollection, “mosquitoes, terrible food, even worse people. Had a big old lake just like this one,” he gestured to the surrounding landscape.

“Actually,” Rafe then spoke up, his voice booming to your ears as he sat directly behind you, his legs slotted on either side of your frame as his chin rested atop your shoulder, “this place used to be a summer camp too back when my dad bought it.”

“Really?” Hana glanced up from the water, their childish game now halted.

“Yeah, I mean,” Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder at the structures on the bank just behind him, “it had been abandoned and completely deserted for a long time, but a lot of the buildings, the main house and the shed and stuff, they’re the original cabins just renovated.”

“Your dad bought an abandoned camp?” Oliver scrunched up his face, “okay, creepy…”

“Oh, hell no, I’m out,” Brain began to unravel, “babe, if we wake up in the middle of the night to a ghost child standing at the foot of our bed, it’s your job to take care of it,” he glanced over his shoulder at Jerome, “I’m too delicate and pretty to deal with the paranormal, especially if it’s kids,” to which his boyfriend simply hummed in agreement and soothingly let his palm run down his partner’s arm.

“Oh, this place isn’t haunted,” Hana said after she’d swam up to clutch against the side of the pier, “calm down.”

“Well, you don’t know that, it might be,” the blonde man behind you shrugged, “especially with what apparently happened here back in the day…”

“What are you talking about?” you looked back at him.

“Well, back like forty years ago or something, when this was still a camp, there was this one counsellor who one day just went nuts, like snapped and murdered every single person there,” Rafe told, purposely making his tone more ominous the further into the story he got, “that’s why the place was shut down and abandoned, why no one ever wanted to return it to its former glory. It’s one of the most gruesome unsolved cases in this entire corner of the country.”

“Wait, unsolved?” Brian clutched his imaginary pearls.

“Yeah, the guy was never caught, supposably never even left these woods…” he then leaned in and attempted to truly spook you all, “at night if you listen closely, you can still hear him sharpening his blade, getting ready to hunt his next prey…”

Hana, assuming that he was only joking, let out a dry laugh to cut the tense silence that had fallen over you all, “okay, very funny, ha-ha.”

“Yeah,” you gently rubbed your boyfriend’s arm as you tried to shake the tale off of you, “let’s maybe not joke about psychopaths running around a rural area when we actually are in a rural area,” though goosebumps still pricked and tingled every inch of your skin.

“Wait, how did it go?” your giggle mingled with Oliver’s as you both leaned against the kitchen counter, nearly bumping your foreheads together from how hard you were laughing, “was it…” and you began to hum a faint melody.

“No because, remember, at the end it went,” your friend cut you off and then made his own attempt, though much more accurate than your own, causing your eyes to promptly light up with recognition before they crinkled together in laughter as he tried to hit the high note at the end.

Once the woods surrounding the cabin had succumbed to darkness, the group of you all decided to wrap the day up in a bit of merriment, going through Rafe’s father’s liquor stash and turning up the music.

During your and Oliver’s secluded moment in the kitchen away from the rest, your laughter caused you to sway even closer to one another, your palm naturally planting itself on his chest as your faces nearly touched.

Though just as the pair of you were doubled over, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” your grin continued as you spotted your boyfriend, “hey baby,” though your laughter finally began to fade.

Staring daggers at the man beside you, Rafe then uttered coldly, “hey,” before his feet carried him straight towards you, seized your waist and twisted you away from your friend and towards himself to capture your lips.

“Okay, right,” Oliver exhaled as Rafe kept marking his territory, kissing you way more passionately than he needed to, “I’ll just see you guys back in the living room then…”

You tried to tilt away enough to utter your friend a reply, though your boyfriend didn’t allow you, only let you go once Oliver was long gone and Rafe returned to his original plan of cracking open the fridge to get a cold beer for himself.

Walking back out into the living room while your boyfriend scavenged for a bottle opener, you plopped yourself back down on the couch, on the opposite side to where Brian and Jerome were snuggled up. Next to where the lit fireplace crackled sat Oliver in a chair and not far from his feet on the fuzzy carpet rested Hana, legs crisscrossed as she held up her wine glass to stare through it.

When Rafe rejoined you all, a freshly glowing cigarette trapped between his lips as he sauntered out of the kitchen, he situated himself right beside you, making space for himself where there hadn’t really been previously. In his hand, he didn’t just balance his own drink, but also a stout glass filled with an amber liquid, one he swiftly handed off to you even though you hadn’t asked for it, yet that had still been the routine of the evening, and after the first one was sloshing on your belly, the others became harder to deny and not accidentally sip absentmindedly, especially when he’d playfully help you along by tilting the glass the remaining distance up towards your lips.

“Sweetie,” Hana soon leaned closer to utter for your ears only, “don’t you want a glass of water instead?”

Though your boyfriend beside you unfortunately overheard and grasped his cigarette between two of his longer fingers, a puff of smoke accompanying his words as he answered before you got the chance to, “she’s fine.”

From across the couch, as Hana scooted back to her spot on the carpet, having not caught the quiet interaction, Brian then suggested, “why don’t we play a game or something?”

“What, like truth or dare?” Hana leaned back against an unoccupied armchair.

“No, this isn’t a slumber party. Isn’t there like board games here?”

Brian’s glance then drifted to Rafe as he smothered his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and, without warning, pulled you into his lap and caught Oliver’s eye from across the room as he shamelessly let his hands wander across your frame.

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the cabinet over there,” Rafe vaguely gestured before his lips began to nip at the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter and only half watched along as Brian then got up to skim through the aforementioned cupboard.

“Okay,” he glanced through the options, “there are cards, so we could play poker or something,”

“No way,” Oliver swiftly shook his head and shot a glance at Jerome’s bulky form, comfortably slumped on the couch, “I’m not repeating that fiasco again.”

“Aw,” Brian glanced back at his friend, “but it was so cute seeing my boyfriend fucking demolish you,” and Jerome, the quiet man he was, just let out a grunt in agreement.

“No, pick something else,” Oliver waved a hand.

“Well, we’ve got monopoly, scrabble, cards against humanity–, uh! There’s clue!” he excitedly picked up the box and spun around, “oh, work! Let’s play that!”

With his kisses still dancing along your skin, they then suddenly ceased as Rafe announced, “you guys go ahead, I think Y/n is ready for bed.”

Shooting a concerned glance at how your intoxicated form wobbled slightly as your boyfriend helped you up on your feet, Hana uttered, “oh, are you sure?”

“She is,” Rafe’s touch clung to you, “aren’t you babe?”

“Oh, uhm…” you hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he mentioned it, as if he himself planted the thought in your hazy mind, all of the alcohol had in fact made you pretty sleepy, “yeah, I guess so.”

“Alright, well then,” Hana’s voice stayed slightly hesitant, “sleep tight.”

“I love you guys,” you blew the group kisses as Rafe helped you over towards the stairs.

His kisses made you even more dizzy than you already were, so when you stumbled over the threshold into your shared room, you flopped down onto the mattress, though you weren’t quite sure if you’d just fallen or if Rafe had manhandled your intoxicated and pliant frame, giving you a push before his form was atop of yours.

Though now that you were horizontal and with the weight of a frat boy squishing you further down into the bed, that was when you truly noticed just how much you’d had to drink that evening.

The room was spinning as Rafe made out with you, his palms raking across your body like a wild storm, squeezing every soft curve he could get his hands on. As one hand disappeared up your skirt, his kisses wandered down and over your throat to the bit of your chest that was exposed in the neckline of your top. Wasting no time at all, he then yanked down the hem, catching one of the cups of your bra as well as he unwrapped your tit like a present.

As his face was buried in your boobs, surely giving you hickeys from the way that he sucked at your pebbly nipple and the surrounding sensitive skin, a breathless attempt at halting his affections left your lungs, “baby–”

Though he didn’t take the whimper as you’d intended it and simply continued, “shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he yanked down the other sliver of mesh fabric covering your other boob, “god, these tits are just insane.”

Weakly, you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair and gasped as you felt his hardness grind into your covered core, “Rafe, I–”

“Yeah?” his lips began to flutter back up to your own as he let himself rock against you with more intent, “you want this big dick, huh?”

“No, we can’t, we don’t have a–”

“Oh come on, baby,” he shifted, slipping a hand down under the waistband of your skirt and into your underwear, not hesitating to sweep his fingers through your wetness and bully your little button, “I know you want to…”

“Stop, that feels too good,” you tried, but couldn’t yank his strong hand away, “you can’t–, I have to get up and brush my teeth.”

“You know, all my exes let me tap it raw,” he purred in your ear and attempted to guilt you, “why won’t you? Don’t you trust me?” his touch then suddenly disappeared, but only to tug down the zipper on the side of your short skirt.

“Of course I do, I just–”

“Then why won’t you let me make you feel good, huh?” he yanked both your skirt and panties down your legs, so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Crawling off of your jelly-like form, he stood tall and loomed at the foot of the bed. Wasting no time, he yanked your core closer to the edge before he desperately freed his fat cock. The taps he then offered your glistening cunt, letting you reel in the weight of his length, “doesn’t that feel nice, baby?” he smirked at the way your mouth fell open, “because it sure seems like your little pussy thinks so, just look,” you followed his command and glanced down to spot how his intimidating girth nudged at your weepy petals.

Even after months of dating, you still hadn’t gotten used to the daunting size of him.

“Oh, fuck…” your brows knitted together.

“Just listen to that,” he flicked the bulbous tip through your slick folds with more vigour, causing the melody of your want to echo even louder throughout the bedroom, “you’re so fucking wet. You want it so bad…”

You then felt yourself fade away into the intoxicating sensation, letting him continue to fuck your fold and make your pussy drool even further till your eyes fluttered shut.

However, it didn’t take very long at all, through all of the hazy motions, before the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside.

“Rafe!” you gasped, eyes snapping back open as your spine lurched off the mattress just an inch.

“Fuck,” he let out a loud groan, “sorry, babe. You’re just too soaked, it slipped in,” though didn’t move at all to pull it back out, since it had secretly been completely on purpose, “christ, you’re so tight…”

As he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, you pleaded once more, “Rafe…” quietly begging for him to take it out through the conflicting haze as the familiar sensation of him stuffing you full always shut your brain completely off.

“This doesn’t count,” he claimed as he began to move, pumping just the bulbous head of himself in and out of your little hole, “not really. I can fuck you with just the tip, right?” a few of his fingers then lowered to strum your clit and summon a loud moan from deep within your soul, “yeah, that’s what I thought…”

As he removed his fingers from your clit, he then stuffed them in your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers and letting you suck them clean of your juices. As the taste of yourself coated your tongue, your own hands came up to clutch his, holding it near as you soon let your pecks wander across his palm and even down to plant a soft kiss to the gold ring that never left his finger.

“Oh–,” a gasp then left your lungs as he suddenly pushed in a bit more of his length, “Rafe, that’s too deep,” selfishly letting himself feel more of your warmth.

“No, that’s not too deep,” he began to fuck you properly, making you lose your breath, “you wanna know what is too deep?” a purposefully harsh thrust then buried itself so far inside of you that a tingle of pain joined the pleasure, “that’s too deep,” he then retracted just a tad, though still filled you up completely with each long stroke, “this is just right.”

“We can’t–,” you foggily tried to shake your head.

“Yes, we can. Just look how good you’re taking me, baby,” the palm you’d been clutching then escaped your grasp and scooped behind your head to tilt your neck and lock it there, directing your glance down between your bodies and forcing you to spot the faint bulge that appeared at each one of his mind-melting thrusts, “you don’t wanna stop…”

Feeling that all too familiar high begin to fuzz up your periphery, you trembled, “o-oh, fuck…”

“You feel so fucking good…” he grunted as your pussy began to clench around his fat girth, “just let me use you for a bit, yeah?”

“I–, I–,” gasps of air expanded your lungs as his pace then thrust you over the edge, “holy shit…” and your cunt helplessly clambered around him.

In your orgasmic haze, Rafe then abruptly flipped you around for you to lay on your stomach, and you barely managed to process it before you felt the weight of him settle atop of you, smooshing you down into the mattress as he slid back in.

“Ah!” you yelped at the way he didn’t hold back, “Rafe, it’s too much,” not even bothering to grant you a chance to recover, but simply fucked through your soreness, “I can’t–”

“Oh, shut up, you can take it,” he growled in your ear, his feet hooking your ankles and spreading your shaky legs further for him, “take it like the good little slut you are.”

It was strange how he’d taught your body to love the pain he inflicted. Even if the source was just his god-given gift of a girth, or curse, all depending on your point of view, and not the roughness he occasionally let slip out of the dark depths he tried to hide his jagged sides in for you and you alone.

“Fuck,” you soon heard him groan as his heavy sack slapped against your cunt at each one of his furious rocks, “I’m gonna cum!”

“Pull out–,” you managed to mumble into the sheets.

“What?” he kept on pounding your poor pussy.

“Not inside,” you tilted your head a bit to beg, “please!”

“Oh my god, fine,” he then begrudgingly pulled out and with one hand flipped you back onto your stomach as the other wrapped around his cock and he began to fuck his fist. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled further up your body till his thighs caged you in, denting the mattress on either side of your face. He didn’t even wait for your lips to part before he shoved his dick down your throat, making you gag as he groaned loudly above you, “fuck…” and fed you his load.

When he soon flopped down on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breaths, you instinctively gulped down what he’d given you before you curled your frame into his side.

As he wrapped an arm beneath your head, his glance then flickered down to you as he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting you up to him before he asked, “did you swallow it?” digging his digit slightly into your skin and making you open your mouth for him, letting him discover the answer him himself, “fuck… that’s my girl…” he groaned before dipping down to kiss you.

The peck however didn’t carry on for long as his warmth then suddenly disappeared.

“Where are you going?” you watched as he got up, reaching out your arms to him in a silent plea for cuddles.

“I’m thirsty,” he zipped his pants back up, though didn’t bother with his shirt, “you just try and fall asleep, I’ll be right back.”

Flashing him a drowsy smile, “okay,” you then tug the duvet over your form and let your gaze shadow him as he made his way out of the room.

You thought you hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but evidently, you had as when the door to the room suddenly burst open, you were jolted awake, Rafe as well stirring as he was now settled behind you with an arm draped over your frame.

As three of your friends rushed to slam the door behind them, Rafe propped himself up and mumbled, “hey, what the fuck–”

But Hana then cut him off, a downright terrified look plastered not only all over her own face, but the rest as well.

“Oliver’s dead,” she uttered through the tears that thickened up her voice.

Still groggy, you slowly sat up and murmured, “what?”

Snapping her bloodshot eyes to lock with yours, she bellowed, “Oliver is fucking dead!”

As your gaze flickered over the group in search of any sign that what she claimed wasn’t true, you heard Rafe behind you exhale, “okay, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh shut up, you dick!” Brian shot back, doubled over in the corner, hyperventilating as Jerome kneeled before him, trying to calm him down.

“Hey, hey,” you gently raised up a hand, “don’t talk to him like that. What the hell do you mean Oliver is dead?”

“I mean that he’s dead as in dead, dead,” Hana explained, her words causing the world to suddenly crumble all around you, “Jerome went outside to get something from the car and found him on the porch, not moving and with his head stuck under the water in the hot tub.”

With tears now stinging the corners of your eyes, you struggled to suck in a breath of air, “what?”

“It’s that fucking ghost story you told us,” Brian panicked in the corner, “it’s real, isn’t it?”

“Okay,” Rafe uttered as the both of you leapt out of bed and scrambled to get some clothes on, “let’s all just calm down.”

“We gotta call the police,” Hana said, to which Jerome swiftly pulled out his phone, only to then curse quietly as he discovered what Brian too noticed when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Fuck, we can’t, there’s no signal!”

Hana then glanced around at everyone, “well then one of us has gotta drive and find some, right?”

“Hell no,” Brian shuttered, “if there’s some psycho out in these woods, then I’m not staying behind to get murdered. We’re all going.”

So that’s how, after you’d all scurried downstairs and filtered out through the sliding door to the porch, that you saw the truth with your own eyes.

Even though his head was obscured beneath water, the unmoving corpse of your dear friend still caught your eyes and stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh my god…” you sobbed, your blood running cold.

But before you could let your feet carry you closer to the scene of the crime, Rafe seized your arm and uttered, “baby, come on,” before pulling you along the last short distance towards the cars, “I’m sorry, but we gotta go.”

Though when you did reach the vehicles and attempted to start them, neither one of them would as they’d seemingly been tampered with, forcing the panicked lot of you all to run back inside.

“Shit…” Brian clutched onto the back of the couch in the living room for support, “what do we do now?”

“We can’t go on foot, not in the dark through this forest,” Rafe spoke, “so we gotta stay here till morning.”

Glancing around the space, Hana uttered, “then we gotta make this place safe. Lock all the doors and windows, find somewhere to hide.”

“Yeah, good idea,” your boyfriend nodded before suggesting, “let’s split up, it’ll be faster that way. Y/n with me, we’ll take that side of the house, and the rest of you stay over here.”

And before anyone could protest, he’d yanked you down a dark hallway.

You nearly stumbled twice as Rafe dragged your shaking visage through the lake house, only stopping once you’d reached a large closet.

“In here, baby,” he shoved you inside, though began to shut the door before he nuzzled himself in as well.

“No, what are you doing?” tears streaming down your face, you attempted to stop him.

Though he only halted his efforts a second, grasping your face as he uttered, “please, just stay here.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” you clutched onto his dark t-shirt, “you can’t–”

“Babe, I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he then collided his lips with your own, a sob escaping your lungs as he briefly kissed you, “please, just stay right here, hide, for me.”

Slowly, you loosened your trembling grip on his shirt and cried, “I love you.”

“I’ll be right back!” he promised before shutting the closet door and bathing you in darkness.

You had no idea how much time passed, if it was only a few seconds or hours that you stayed in the dusty and dim abyss of that closet, but then when a loud crash and a shrill scream suddenly found your ears, your shaky hand pushed the door back open.

You’d never in your life been as terrified as you were when you found yourself tip-toeing down that long, dark hallway. Though, as you sneaked past the ajar door to the study, your entire body suddenly froze up at the massacre that met you within.

Unmoving and slumped over the threshold, there lied Jerome, his face beaten to a pulp, rendering it nearly unrecognisable as blood slowly trickled into the tight curls on the top of his head.

Past where Hana was lying in the middle of the room, battered and coughing, in the corner you saw as a tall figure, masked by a dark motorcycle helmet, crouched over the still form of Brian and landed the last few blows to claim his life.

“Please,” Hana’s words were gurgled by blood as the killer slowly straightened back up. Twisting ever so slightly, the assailant plucked out one of the clubs from the gold bag that leaned against one of the tall bookcases, “just let me go,” your last living friend begged as you watched the murderer wrap his long fingers around the handle and take the few steps to where Hana lied, “just let me–”

As he took a wide swing and hit your friend right in her temple, the loud crack that echoed throughout the cabin made you shutter in terror and let out an uncontrollable scream, causing the killer’s head to snap up to spot you in the dark hallway.

For a second you both just stood there, frozen and staring at one another, like two deer in headlights. But then, as he began to move, taking his time as he stepped over the bodies littering his path, you stumbled back and collided with the wall directly behind you.

You tried to run, but even though you managed to slip out the wide glass doors and escape a good distance into the dark forest surrounding the house, the masked man still caught up to you and flung you against a tree. As he had you cornered, you felt him drag the cold tip of the golf club up your right leg and over your shuttering skin, drawing a crimson line of your beloved’s blood across your goosebump-ridden flesh.

“P-please don’t kill me, please–,” you cried, but just then, the moonlight that streamed through the dense treetops caught in a glint of gold that adorned the hand that clutched the club, a recognizable ring that caused your heart to drop.

As your eyes then flickered up to the dark helmet, that too seemed oddly familiar now that you truly looked at it.

In some sick and twisted way, you hoped that the killer had just stolen the jewellery from your boyfriend as a trophy of the night’s conquest and not the horrifying alternative.

But when you then tried to slip away and the man pushed you back, your hands defensively shot up, though only managed to knock the helmet off his head and let it tumble to the dark forest floor below, unveiling the earth-shattering truth.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, eyes wide as you now stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Shh,” he took a step closer to you, caging you in even further, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“They–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

A low sigh then escaped Rafe’s lungs.

“You really should have just stayed hidden like I told you to… I didn’t want you to find out this way… it would have been so much simpler if you’d just bought into the story I made up…”

“You killed my friends…” your chest ached with every painful gasp of air, “how–… how could you?”

“Oh, honey…” his head tilted slightly as the corners of his lips twitched, “do you really think this is my first time?”

Staring back at him in horror, you sputtered, “w-why?”

“Because of you,” he uttered as if it was obvious, “it was all for you,” his feet shifted him even closer to you, “they were a bad influence, so this was the only way.”

“They were my family!”

“They were like a poison, all of them, trying to control you, trying to take you away from me,” he inched in even closer, making you wish the harsh bark that scratched up your spine would simply open up like a portal and let you escape, “I know Hana was trying to get you to break up with me… Oliver always followed you around like a lost puppy, just hoping you’d one day spread your legs for him… and Jerome and Brian? They were just plain annoying,” his hot breath fanned across your skin as he petted the edges of your features with a knuckle of the hand clutching the golf club, “I did it all for you, for us, because I love you… fuck, you have no idea how much I fucking love you, baby…” he uttered before bringing the bud of the improvised weapon down upon the side of your head and knocking you clean out.

When you came to, the flicking light from a lit fireplace was the only source of light in the dim room you found yourself in. Arms folded up behind your head, a long rope was tangled around them and stretched up to a beam in the ceiling above. Your legs too were tied, keeping your naked frame upright and locked in place in the middle of the room.

“Fucking finally,” a low voice echoed from the chair across the chamber, causing you to wince as the tone pierced your soul and worsened your splitting headache, “you really took your sweet time waking up.”

Blinking back at your boyfriend as he leaned back in the seat, pants undone and his hard length tight in his fist, a murmur escaped your lips, “…you knocked me out…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he got up and walked towards your suspended form, “but you didn’t give me any other choice.”

As he slowly neared you, your glossy eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Rafe, please,” you heard your voice break as you tried to keep your tone soft, “you don’t have to do this. Just untie me, I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“Oh yeah?” a small scoff slipped through his smirk.

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go,” you begged, “please don’t hurt me.”

“Shh, shh,” his palm rose up to stroke your hair before letting it rush down and over the curves of your exposed body, “but you’ve been such a bad girl. I think you deserve a lesson that hurts a little bit,” his palm then slapped your pussy, still soaked and sore from earlier, rendering you to let out a shrill yelp, “it’s okay, you can cry…” he briefly leaned in to kiss your cheek before he shifted, though still staying so close that his nose ghosted along your skin as he made his way around to stand directly behind you, “you look so pretty when you do…”

You then squirmed as he reached down to grasp his cock and nudge at your sensitive entrance, “Rafe, please–, ah!” a cry then left your form as he ruthlessly rammed his way inside, plugging you up so completely that his balls nuzzled against your slick skin.

“Fuck!” his moan tickled the shell of your ear as he tangled his arms around your torso, “you’re so perfect…” he began to move, finding a selfish pace to wreck you with, “so perfect and all mine…”

As his thrusts caused your tits to jiggle, one of his wide hands soared up to grasp one while the other one snaked up to wrap around your throat. He then squeezed it fiercely enough that all your noises eventually faded away and he kept you completely quiet for a good moment before his hold slackened and he once again granted you the privilege of gasping for air.

“This is all you need, just me, only me,” he grunted, “just like this, using your pretty little hole for exactly what it was made for… you were made for me and nobody else… no one…”

His grip then drifted down to dent your hips before he lifted them, raising your bound frame till your tip toes were barely grazing the cold floor. Your back arched slightly as he repeatedly brought your hips back to him, his balls sloppily slapping against your swollen clit each time he manoeuvred your body and treated you like a toy.

When he then hooked an arm around your front to keep moving your body greedily against him, it granted the other one the grace to roam your frame freely.

As his fingers found one of your nipples in a harsh pinch, he let out a groan at the way you began to clamper down around his fat girth, “are you gonna cum, baby? Huh?” his palm then slapped your tit, “because it sure fucking feels like you’re close,” before he suddenly retracted completely, slipping out of your drooling cunt and causing a shy whimper to slip from your lips, one he swiftly cut off when he smacked your cheek, “too bad. You’re not allowed to.”

As you shakily struggled to stay on your unsteady feet, you panted, “Rafe, my legs, I can’t–”

“Oh yeah?” he mockingly pouted at you as he sauntered around to your front, “do they hurt? Are you tired?” and as you offered him a nod, his fingers grasped your chin, “well,” his thumb slowly stretched up to trace your bottom lip, “if you promise that you’ll be a good girl for me, then I’ll give you a little break.”

“Yes, I will,” a tear rolled down your still stinging cheek.

“You will what?” his palm briefly slapped the side of your face once again before returning to the same hold.

“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want,” you begged and as he then sank down to his knees, grabbed a pocketknife resting on a nearby table and held up his end of the bargain, slicing through the ropes at your legs and cutting them loose. A new wave of sobs tumbled out of your form, “thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”

Tossing the blade far away before he rose back up, “you’re fucking welcome, baby,” he then caught you off guard as he suddenly plucked your lower half up into his arms.

“W-wait, I thought you’d give me a break!” your legs trembled in his grasp as he slide you back onto his fat cock.

“Yeah, your legs were tired, so I’m being nice and giving them a break,” the wet claps of your skin roughly colliding once again filled the dark room, “your pussy doesn’t deserve one yet… unless of course, this is you begging me to fuck your ass…” a wicked wish that he’d been begging you for ever since the very first time he banged you.

“No! No, not there, please, I’ve never–”

“Oh, I know you haven’t,” he smirked, “that’s what makes it so much more fun…”

“Please, Rafe,” you blinked back at him, “don’t.”

“You told me I could do whatever I want…” he angled his bucks right against that spot that caused your teeth to dig into your lower lip, “you promised to be a good girl for me and just take whatever I give you…”

“I will,” your eyes couldn’t help but flutter, “just please not that.”

He then let a dollop of his spit splatter directly against your face, “alright, but only because I love you,” before he dipped down to plant a feverish kiss against your lips, “tell me that you love me too.”

“I love you,” you murmured against his mouth.

“Huh?” one of his hands let go of you and he shifted to balance you with only one, letting the other instead drift down between your forms to bully your puffy pearl, “what was that?”

“I lo–, a-ah!” you suddenly whined as he pressed one of his fingers inside your pussy, not caring in the slightest that you were already completely filled up as he forced his digit in alongside his fat cock.

“Come on, baby,” he stared down at you, “tell me you love me,” and kept up his ruthless pace as he hooked the finger inside of you, “tell your soulmate just how much you love and adore him, how you want nothing more than to worship him at his feet.”

“I–, I–, Rafe,” you gasped, feeling as if he was splitting you in half, “it’s too much–”

“No, it’s not too much, it’s exactly right, you can take it, baby.”

“I can’t–”

“I don’t fucking care,” he continued to fuck you without remorse, slamming his intimidating length so deep inside of you that you nearly couldn’t breathe, “I wanna feel you cum, just like this.”

“Rafe–”

“Do it or I’ll get a lot meaner,” he warned you before he finally got what he wanted. Your squirt drizzled down on the floor as the intensity caused a scream to erupt from your form, “there you go, fuck,” he groaned as he watched your pussy gush around his girth, “that’s it,” before the way your cunt clambered down around him caused him to let go as well, “shit,” and pump you full of his cum.

Rafe pressed a peck to your forehead before he pulled out of your warmth and you breathlessly glanced down to watch as his hot load began to leak out of your quivering hole.

“Alright, baby,” he exhaled and then uttered words that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine, “foreplay’s over. I think you’re ready for your punishment now.”

1K notes · View notes

renthony · 6 months ago

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Nimona: a Story of Trans Rights, Queer Solidarity, and the Battle Against Censorship

by Ren Basel renbasel.com

The 2023 film Nimona, released on Netflix after a tumultuous development, is a triumph of queer art. While the basic plot follows a mischievous shapeshifter befriending a knight framed for murder, at its heart Nimona is a tale of queer survival in the face of bigotry and censorship. Though the word “transgender” is never spoken, the film is a deeply political narrative of trans empowerment.

The film is based on a comic of the same name, created by Eisner-winning artist N.D. Stevenson. (1) Originally a webcomic, Nimona stars the disgraced ex-knight Ballister Blackheart and his titular sidekick, teaming up to topple an oppressive regime known as the Institution. The webcomic was compiled into a graphic novel published by Harper Collins on May 12, 2015. (2)

On June 11, 2015, the Hollywood Reporter broke the news Fox Animation had acquired rights to the story. (3) A film adaptation would be directed by Patrick Osborne, written by Marc Haimes, and produced by Adam Stone. Two years later, on February 9, 2017, Osborne confirmed the film was being produced with the Fox-owned studio Blue Sky Animation, and on June 30 of that same year, he claimed the film would be released Valentine’s Day 2020. (4)

Then the Walt Disney Company made a huge mess.

On December 14, 2017, Disney announced the acquisition of Twenty-First Century Fox, Inc. (5) Industry publications began speculating the same day about Blue Sky’s fate, though nothing would be confirmed until after the deal’s completion on March 19, 2019. (6) At first it seemed the studio would continue producing films under Disney’s governance, similar to Disney-owned Pixar Animation. (7)

The fate of the studio—and Nimona’s film adaptation—remained in purgatory for two years. During that time, Patrick Osborne left over reported creative differences, and directorial duties were taken over by Nick Bruno and Troy Quane. (8) Bruno and Quane continued production on the film despite Blue Sky’s uncertain future.

The killing blow came on February 9, 2021. Disney shut down Blue Sky and canceled Nimona, the result of economic hardship caused by COVID-19. (9) Nimona was seventy-five percent completed at the time, set to star Chloë Grace Moretz and Riz Ahmed. (10)

While COVID-19 caused undeniable financial upheaval for the working class, wealthy Americans fared better. (11) Disney itself scraped together enough to pay CEO Bob Iger twenty-one million dollars in 2020 alone. (12) Additionally, demand for animation spiked during the pandemic’s early waves, and Nimona could have been the perfect solution to the studio’s supposed financial woes. (13) Why waste the opportunity to profit from Blue Sky’s hard work?

It didn’t take long for the answer to surface. Speaking anonymously to the press, Blue Sky workers revealed the awful truth: Disney may have killed Nimona for being too queer. The titular character was gender-nonconforming, the leading men were supposed to kiss, and Disney didn’t like it. (14) While Disney may claim COVID-19 as the cause, it is noteworthy that Disney representatives saw footage of two men declaring their love, and not long after, the studio responsible was dead. (15) Further damning evidence came in February of 2024, when the Hollywood Reporter published an article quoting co-director Nick Bruno, who named names: Disney’s chief creative officer at the time, Alan Horn, was adamantly opposed to the film’s “gay stuff.” (16)

Disney didn’t think queer art was worthy of their brand, and it isn’t the first time. “Not fitting the Disney brand” was the justification for canceling Dana Terrace’s 2020 animated series The Owl House, which featured multiple queer characters. (17) Though Terrace was reluctant to assume queerphobia caused the cancellation, Disney’s anti-queer bias has been cited as a hurdle by multiple showrunners, including Terrace herself. (18) The company’s resistance to queer art is a documented phenomenon.

While Nimona’s film cancellation could never take N.D. Stevenson’s comic from the world, it was a sting to lose such a powerful queer narrative on the silver screen. American film has a long history of censoring queerness. The Motion Picture Production Code (commonly called the Hays Code) censored queer stories for decades, including them under the umbrella of “sex perversion.” (19) Though the Code was eventually repealed, systemic bigotry turns even modern queer representation milestones into battles. In 2018, when Rebecca Sugar, creator of the Cartoon Network series Steven Universe, succeeded in portraying the first-ever same-sex marriage proposal in American children’s animation, the network canceled the show in retaliation. (20)

When queer art has to fight so hard just to exist, each loss is a bitter heartbreak. N.D. Stevenson himself expressed sorrow that the world would never see what Nimona’s crew worked so hard to achieve. (21)

Nimona, however, is hard to kill.

While fans mourned, progress continued behind the scenes. Instead of disappearing into the void as a tax write-off, the film was quietly scooped up by Megan Ellison of Annapurna Pictures. (22) Ellison received a call days before Disney’s death blow to Blue Sky, and after looking over storyboard reels, she decided to champion the film. With Ellison’s support, former Blue Sky heads Robert Baird and Andrew Millstein did their damnedest to find Nimona a home. (23)

Good news arrived on April 11, 2022, when N.D. Stevenson made a formal announcement on Twitter (now X): Nimona was gloriously alive, and would release on Netflix in 2023. (24) Netflix confirmed the news in its own press release, where it also provided details about the film’s updated cast and crew, including Eugene Lee Yang as Ambrosius Goldenloin alongside Riz Ahmed’s Ballister Boldheart (changed from the name Blackheart in the comic) and Chloë Grace Moretz as Nimona. (25) The film was no longer in purgatory, and grief over its death became anticipation for its release.

Nimona made her film debut in France, premiering at the Annecy International Animation Film Festival on June 14, 2023 to positive reviews. (26) Netflix released the film to streaming on June 30, finally completing the story’s arduous journey from page to screen. (27)

When the film begins, the audience is introduced to the world through a series of illustrated scrolls, evoking the storybook intros of Disney princess films such as 1959’s Sleeping Beauty. The storybook framing device has been used to parody Disney in the past, perhaps most famously in the 2001 Dreamworks film Shrek. Just as Shrek contains parodies of the Disney brand created by a Disney alumnus, so, too, does Nimona riff on the studio that snubbed it. (28)

Nimona’s storybook intro tells the story of Gloreth, a noble warrior woman clad in gold and white, who defended her people from a terrible monster. After slaying the beast, Gloreth established an order of knights called the Institute (changed from the Institution in the comic) to wall off the city and protect her people.

Right away, the film introduces a Christian dichotomy of good versus evil. Gloreth is presented as a Christlike figure, with the Institute’s knights standing in as her saints. (29) Her name is invoked like the Christian god, with characters uttering phrases such as “oh my Gloreth” and “Gloreth guide you.” The film’s design borrows heavily from Medieval Christian art and architecture, bolstering the metaphor.

Nimona takes place a thousand years after Gloreth’s victory. Following the opening narration, the audience is dropped into a setting combining Medieval aesthetics with futuristic science fiction, creating a sensory delight of neon splashed across knights in shining armor. It’s in this swords-and-cyborgs city that a new knight is set to join the illustrious ranks of Gloreth’s Institute, now under the control of a woman known only as the Director (voiced by Frances Conroy). That new knight is our protagonist, Ballister Boldheart.

The film changes several things from the original. The comic stars Lord Ballister Blackheart, notorious former knight, long after his fall from grace. He has battled the Institution for years, making a name for himself as a supervillain. The film introduces a younger Ballister Boldheart who is still loyal to the Institute, who believes in his dream of becoming a knight and overcomes great odds to prove himself worthy. In the comic, Blackheart’s greatest rival is Sir Ambrosius Goldenloin, with whom he has a messy past. The film shows more of that past, when Goldenloin and Boldheart were young lovers eager to become knights by each other’s side.

There is another notable change: in the comic, Goldenloin is white, and Blackheart is light-skinned. In the film, both characters are men of color—specifically, Boldheart is of Pakistani descent, and Goldenloin is of Korean descent, matching the ethnicity of their respective voice actors. This change adds new themes of institutional racism, colorism, and the “model minority” stereotype. (30)

The lighter-skinned Goldenloin is, as his name suggests, the Institute’s golden boy. He descends from the noble lineage of Gloreth herself, and his face is emblazoned on posters and news screens across the city. He is referred to as “the most anticipated knight of a generation.” In contrast, the darker-skinned Boldheart experiences prejudice and hazing due to his lower-class background. His social status is openly discussed in the news. He is called a “street kid” and “controversial,” despite being the top student in his class. The newscasters make sure everyone knows he was only given the chance to prove himself in the Institute because the queen, a Black woman with established social influence, gave him her personal patronage. Despite this patronage, when the news interviews citizens on the street, public opinion is firmly against Boldheart.

To preserve the comic’s commentary on white privilege, some of Goldenloin’s traits were written into a new, white character created for the film, Sir Thoddeus Sureblade (voiced by Beck Bennett). Sureblade’s vitriol against both Boldheart and Goldenloin allowed Goldenloin to become a more sympathetic character, trapped in the system just as much as Boldheart. (31) This is emphasized at other points in the film when the audience sees Sureblade interact with Goldenloin without Boldheart present, berating the only person of color left in the absence of the darker-skinned man.

The day Boldheart is to be knighted, everything goes wrong. As Queen Valerin (voiced by Lorraine Toussaint) performs the much-anticipated knighting ceremony, a device embedded in Boldheart’s sword explodes, killing her instantly. Though Boldheart is not to blame, he is dubbed an assassin instead of a knight. In an instant, he becomes the most wanted man in the kingdom, and Queen Valerin’s hopes for progress and social equality seem dead with her. Boldheart is gravely injured in the explosion and forced to flee, unable to clear his name.

Enter Nimona.

The audience meets the titular character in the act of vandalizing a poster of Gloreth, only to get distracted by an urgent broadcast on a nearby screen. As she approaches, a bystander yells that she’s a “freak,” in a manner reminiscent of slurs screamed by passing bigots. Nimona has no time for bigots, spraying this one in the face with paint before tuning in to the news.

“Everyone is scared,” declare the newscasters, because queen-killer Ballister Boldheart is on the run. The media paints him as a monster, a filthy commoner who never deserved the chances he was given, and announce that, “never since Gloreth’s monster has anything been so hated.” This characterization pleases Nimona, and she declares him “perfect” before scampering off to find his hiding place.

It takes the span of a title screen for her to track him down, sequestered in a makeshift junkyard shelter. Just before Nimona bursts into the lair, the audience sees Boldheart’s injuries have resulted in the amputation of his arm, and he is building a homemade prosthetic. This is another way he’s been othered from his peers in an instant, forced to adapt to life-changing circumstances with no support. Where he was so recently an aspiring knight with a partner and a dream, he is now homeless, disabled, and isolated.

A wall in the hideout shows a collection of news clippings, suspects, and sticky notes where Boldheart is trying to solve the murder and clear his name. His own photo looks down from the wall, captioned with a damning headline: “He was never one of us—knights reveal shocking details of killer’s past.” It evokes real-world racial bias in crime reporting, where suspects of color are treated as more violent, unstable, and prone to crime than white suspects. A 2021 report by the Equal Justice Initiative and the Global Strategy Group compiled data on this phenomenon, focusing on the stark disparity between coverage of white and Black suspects. (32)

Nimona is not put off by Boldheart’s sinister media reputation. It’s why she tracked him down in the first place. She’s arrived to present her official application as Boldheart’s villain sidekick and help him take down the Institute. Boldheart brushes her off, insisting he isn’t a villain. He has faith in his innocence and in the system, and leaves Nimona behind to clear his name.

When he is immediately arrested, stripped of his prosthetic, and jailed, Nimona doesn’t abandon him. She springs a prison break, and conveys a piece of bitter wisdom to the fallen knight: “[O]nce everyone sees you as a villain, that’s what you are. They only see you one way, no matter how hard you try.”

Nimona and Boldheart are both outcasts, but they are at different stages of processing the pain. Boldheart is deep in the grief of someone who tried to adhere to the demands of a biased system but finally failed. He is the newly cast-out, who gave his entire life to the system but still couldn’t escape dehumanization. His pain is a fresh, raw wound, where Nimona has old scars. She embodies the deep anger of those who have existed on the margins for years. Where Boldheart wants to prove his innocence so he can be re-accepted into the fold, Nimona’s goal is to tear the entire system apart. She finds instant solidarity with Boldheart based solely on their mutual status as outsiders, but Boldheart resists that solidarity because he still craves the system’s familiar structure.

In the comic, Blackheart’s stance is not one of fresh grief, since, just like Nimona, he has been an outsider for some time. Instead, Blackheart’s position is one of slow reform. He believes the system can be changed and improved, while Nimona urges him to demolish it entirely. In both versions, Ballister thinks the system can be fixed by removing specific corrupt influences, where Nimona believes the government is rotten to its foundations and should be dismantled. Despite their ideological differences, Nimona and Ballister ally to survive the Institute’s hostility.

The allyship is an uneasy truce. During the prison break, Nimona reveals that she’s a shapeshifter, able to change into whatever form she pleases. Boldheart reflexively reaches for his sword, horrified that she isn’t human. She is the exact sort of monster he has been taught to fear by the Institute, and it’s only because he needs her help that he overcomes his reflex and sticks with her.

Nimona’s shapeshifting functions as a transgender allegory. The comic’s author, N.D. Stevenson, is transgender, and Nimona’s story developed alongside his own queer journey. (33) The trans themes from the comic are emphasized in the film, with various pride flags included in backgrounds and showcased in the art book. (34) Directors Bruno and Quane described the film as “a story about acceptance. A movie about being seen for who you truly are and a love letter to all those who’ve ever shared that universal feeling of being misunderstood or like an outsider trying to fit in.” (35)

When Boldheart asks Nimona what she is, she responds with only “Nimona.” When he calls her a girl, she retorts that she’s “a lot of things.” When she transforms into another species, she specifies in that moment that she’s “not a girl, I’m a shark.” Later, when she takes the form of a young boy and Boldheart comments on it, saying “now you’re a boy,” her response is, “I am today.” She defies easy categorization, and she likes it that way.

About her shapeshifting, Nimona says “it feels worse if I don’t do it” and “I shapeshift, then I’m free.” When asked what happens if she doesn’t shapeshift, she responds, “I wouldn’t die-die, I just sure wouldn’t be living.” Every time she discusses her transformations, it carries echoes of transgender experience—and, as it happens, Nimona is not N.D. Stevenson’s only shapeshifting transgender character. During his tenure as showrunner for She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (Netflix/Dreamworks, 2018-2020), Stevenson introduced the character Double Trouble. Double Trouble previously existed at the margins of She-Ra lore, but Stevenson’s version was a nonbinary shapeshifter using they/them pronouns. (36) While Nimona uses she/her pronouns throughout both comic and film, just like Double Trouble her gender presentation is as fluid as her physical form.

Boldheart, like many cisgender people reacting to transgender people, is uncomfortable with Nimona. He declares her way of doing things “too much,” and insists they try to be “inconspicuous” and “discreet.” He worries whether others saw her, and, when she is casually in a nonhuman form, he asks if she can “be normal for a second.” He claims to support her, but says it would be “easier if she was a girl” because “other people aren’t as accepting.” His discomfort evokes fumbled allyship by cisgender people, and Nimona emphasizes the allegory by calling Boldheart out for his “small-minded questions.” While the alliance is uneasy, Boldheart continues working with Nimona to clear his name. They are the only allies each other has, and their individual survival is dependent on them working together.

When the duo gain video proof of Boldheart’s innocence, they learn the bomb that killed Queen Valerin was planted by the Director. Threatened by a Black woman using her influence to elevate a poor, queer man of color, the white Director chose to preserve the status quo through violence.

Nimona is eager to get the video on every screen in the city, but Boldheart wants to deal with the issue internally, out of the public eye. He insists “the Institute isn’t the problem, the Director is.” This belief is what also leads the comic’s Blackheart to reject Nimona’s idea that he should crown himself king. He is focused on reforming the existing power structure, neither removing it entirely nor taking it over himself.

Inside the Institute, the Director has been doing her best to set Goldenloin against his former partner. Despite his internal misgivings and fear of betraying someone he loves, Goldenloin does his best to adhere to his prescribed role. As the Director reminds the knights, they are literally born to defend the kingdom, and it’s their sacred duty to do so—especially Goldenloin, who carries Gloreth’s holy blood. This blood connection is repeated throughout the film, and used by the Director to exploit Goldenloin. He’s the Institute’s token minority, put on a gilded pedestal and treated as a symbol instead of a human being.

Goldenloin is a pretty face for propaganda posters, and those posters can be seen throughout the film. They proclaim Gloreth’s majesty, the power of the knights, and remind civilians that the Institute is necessary to “protect our way of life.” A subway PSA urges citizens, “if you see something, slay something,” in a direct parody of the real-world “if you see something, say something” campaign by the United States Department of Homeland Security. (37)

The film is not subtle in its political messaging. When Boldheart attempts to prove his innocence to Goldenloin and the assembled knights, he reaches towards his pocket for a phone. The Director cries that Boldheart has a weapon, and Sureblade opens fire. Though the shot hits the phone and not Boldheart, it carries echoes of real-world police brutality against people of color. Specifically, the use of a phone evokes cases such as the 2018 murder of Stephon Clark, a young Black man who was shot and killed by California police claiming Clark’s cell phone was a firearm. (38) The film does not toy with vague, depoliticized themes of coexistence and tolerance; it is a direct and pointed allegory for contemporary oppression in the United States of America.

Forced to choose between love for Boldheart and loyalty to the Institute, Goldenloin chooses the Institute. He calls for Boldheart’s arrest, and this is the moment Boldheart finally agrees to fight back and raise hell alongside Nimona. When Goldenloin calls Nimona a monster during the ensuing battle, Boldheart doesn’t hesitate to refute it. He expresses his trust in her, and it’s clear he means it. He’s been betrayed by someone he cared about and thought he could depend on, and this puts him in true solidarity with Nimona for the first time.

During the fight, Nimona stops a car from crashing into a small child. She shapeshifts into a young girl to appear less threatening, but it doesn’t work. The child picks up a sword, pointing it at Nimona until an adult pulls them away to hide. When Nimona sees this hatred imprinted in the heart of a child, it horrifies her.

After fleeing to their hideout, Nimona makes a confession to Boldheart: she has suicidal ideations. So many people have directed so much hatred toward her that sometimes she wants to give in and let them kill her. In the real world, a month after the film’s release, a study from the Williams Institute at the UCLA School of Law compiled data about suicidality in American transgender adults. (39) Researchers found that eighty-one percent have thought about suicide, compared to just thirty-five percent of cisgender adults. Forty-two percent have attempted suicide, compared to eleven percent of cisgender adults. Fifty-six percent have engaged in self-harm, compared to twelve percent of cisgender adults.

When Boldheart offers to flee with her and find somewhere safe together, Nimona declares they shouldn’t have to run. She makes the decision every trans person living in a hostile place must make: do I leave and save myself, or do I stay to fight for my community? The year the film was released, the Trans Legislation Tracker reported a record-breaking amount of anti-trans legislation in the United States, with six hundred and two bills introduced throughout twenty-four states. (40) In February 2024, the National Center for Transgender Equality published data on their 2022 U.S. Transgender Survey, revealing that forty-seven percent of respondents thought about moving to another area due to discrimination, with ten percent actually doing so. (41)

Despite the danger, Nimona and Boldheart work diligently against the Institute. When they gain fresh footage proving the Director’s guilt, they don’t hesitate to upload it online, where it garners rapid attention across social and news media. Newscasters begin asking who the real villain is, anti-Institute sentiment builds, and citizens protest in the streets, demanding answers. The power that social media adds to social justice activism is true in the real world as it is in the film, seen in campaigns such as the viral #MeToo hashtag and the Black Lives Matter movement. (42) In 2020, polls conducted by the Pew Research Center showed eight in ten Americans viewed social media platforms as either very or somewhat effective in raising awareness about political and social topics. In the same survey, seventy-seven percent of respondents believed social media is at least somewhat effective in organizing social movements. (43)

In reaction to the media firestorm, the Director issues a statement. She outs Nimona as a shapeshifter, and claims the evidence against the Institute is a hoax. Believing the Director, Goldenloin contacts Boldheart for a rendezvous, sans Nimona. From Goldenloin’s perspective, Boldheart is a good man who has been deceived by the real villain, Nimona. He tells Boldheart about a scroll the Director found, with evidence that Nimona is Gloreth’s original monster, still alive and terrorizing the city. Goldenloin wants to bring Boldheart back into the knighthood and resume their relationship, and though that’s what Boldheart wanted before, his solidarity with Nimona causes him to reject the offer.

Though he leaves Goldenloin behind, Boldheart’s suspicion of Nimona returns. Despite their solidarity, he doesn’t really know her, so he returns home to interrogate her. In the ensuing argument, he reverts to calling her a monster, but only through implication—he won’t say the word. Like a slur, he knows he shouldn’t say it anymore, but that doesn’t keep him from believing it.

Boldheart’s actions prove to Nimona that nowhere is safe. There is no haven. Her community will always turn on her. She flees, and in her ensuing breakdown, the audience learns her backstory. She was alone for an unspecified length of time, never able to fit in until meeting Gloreth as a little girl. Nimona presents herself to Gloreth as another little girl, and Gloreth becomes Nimona’s very first friend. Even when Nimona shapeshifts, Gloreth treats her with kindness and love.

Then the adults of Gloreth’s village see Nimona shapeshift, and the word “monster” is hurled. Torches and pitchforks come out. At the adults’ panic, Gloreth takes up a sword against Nimona, and the cycle of bigotry is transferred to the next generation. The friendship shatters, and Nimona must flee before she can be killed.

After losing Boldheart, seemingly Nimona’s only ally since Gloreth’s betrayal, Nimona’s grief becomes insurmountable. She knows in her heart that nothing will ever change. She’s been hurt too much, by too many, cutting too deeply. To Nimona, the world will only ever bring her pain, so she gives in. She transforms into the giant, ferocious monster everyone has always told her she is, and she begins moving through the city as the Institute opens fire.

When Ballister sees Nimona’s giant, shadowy form, he realizes the horrific pain he caused her. He intuits that Nimona isn’t causing destruction for fun, she’s on a suicide march. She’s given up, and her decision is the result of endless, systemic bigotry and betrayal of trust. Her rampage wouldn’t be happening if she’d been treated with love, support, and care.

Nimona’s previous admission of suicidal ideation repeats in voiceover as she prepares to impale herself on a sword pointed by a massive statue of Gloreth. Her suicide is only prevented because Ballister steps in, calling to her, apologizing, saying he sees her and she isn’t alone. She collapses into his arms, once again in human form, sobbing. Boldheart has finally accepted her truth, and she is safe with him.

But she isn’t safe from the Director.

In a genocidal bid she knows will take out countless civilian lives, the Director orders canons fired on Nimona. Goldenloin tries to stop her, finally standing up against the system, but it’s too late. The Director fires the canons, Nimona throws herself at the blast to protect the civilians, and Nimona falls.

When the dust settles, the Director is deposed and the city rebuilds. Boldheart and Goldenloin reconnect and resume their relationship. The walls around the city come down, reforms take hold in the Institute, and a memorial goes up to honor Nimona, the hero who sacrificed her life to reveal the Director’s corruption.

Nimona, however, is hard to kill.

Nimona originally had a tragic ending, born of N.D. Stevenson’s own depression, but that hopelessness didn’t last forever. (44) Though Nimona is defeated, she doesn’t stay dead. Through the outpouring of love and support N.D. Stevenson received while creating the original webcomic, he gained the community and support he needed to create a more hopeful ending for Nimona’s story—and himself.

The comic’s ending is bittersweet. Nimona can’t truly die, and eventually restores herself. She allows Blackheart to glimpse her, so he knows she survived, but she doesn’t stay. She still doesn’t feel safe, and is assumed to move on somewhere new. Blackheart never sees Nimona again.

The film’s ending is more hopeful. There is a shimmer of pink magic as Nimona announces her survival, and the film ends with Boldheart’s elated exclamation. Even death couldn’t keep her down. She survived Gloreth, and she survived the Director. Though this chapter of the story is over, there is hope on the horizon, and she has allies on her side.

In both incarnations, Nimona is a story of queer survival in a cruel world. The original ending was one of despair, that said there was little hope of true solidarity and allyship. The revised ending said there was hope, but still so far to go. The film’s ending says there is hope, there is solidarity, and there are people who will stand with transgender people until the bitter end—but, more importantly, there are people in the world who want trans people to live, to thrive, and to find joy.

In a world that’s so hostile to transgender people, it’s no wonder a radically trans-positive film had to fight so hard to exist. Unfortunately, the battle must continue. As of June 2024, Netflix hasn’t announced any intent to produce physical copies of the film, meaning it exists solely on streaming and is only accessible via a monthly paid subscription. Should Netflix ever take down its original animation, as HBO Max did in 2022 despite massive backlash, the film could easily become lost media. (45) Though it saved Nimona from Disney, Netflix has its own nasty history of under-marketing and canceling queer programs. (46)

The film’s art book is already gone. The multimedia tome was posted online on October 12, 2023, hosted at ArtofNimona.com. (47) Per the Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine, the site became a Netflix redirect at some point between 10:26 PM on March 9, 2024 and 9:35 PM on March 20, 2024. (48) On the archived site, some multimedia elements are non-functional, potentially making them lost media. The art book is not available through any legal source, and though production designer Aidan Sugano desperately wants a physical copy made, there seem to be no such plans. (49)

Perhaps Netflix will eventually release physical copies of both film and art book. Perhaps not. Time will tell. In the meantime, Nimona stands as a triumph of queer media in a queerphobic world. That it exists at all is a miracle, and that its accessibility is so precarious a year after release is a travesty. Contemporary political commentary is woven into every aspect of the film, and it exists thanks to the passion, talent, and bravery of an incredible crew who endured despite blatant corporate queerphobia.

Long live Nimona, and long live the transgender community she represents.

_ This piece was commissioned using the prompt "the Nimona movie."

Updated 6/16/24 to revise an inaccurate statement regarding the original comic.

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Notes:

1. “Past Recipients 2010s.” n.d. Comic-Con International. Accessed June 10, 2024. https://www.comic-con.org/awards/eisner-awards/past-recipients/past-recipenties-2010s/.

2. Stevenson, ND. 2015. Nimona. New York, NY: Harperteen.

3. Kit, Borys. 2015. “Fox Animation Nabs ‘Nimona’ Adaptation with ‘Feast’ Director (Exclusive).” The Hollywood Reporter. June 11, 2015. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/fox-animation-nabs-nimona-adaptation-801920/.

4. Riley, Jenelle. 2017. “Oscar Winner Patrick Osborne Returns with First-Ever vr Nominee ‘Pearl.’” Variety. February 9, 2017. https://variety.com/2017/film/in-contention/patrick-osborne-returns-to-race-with-first-vr-nominee-pearl-1201983466/; Osborne, Patrick (@PatrickTOsborne). 2017. "Hey world, the NIMONA feature film has a release date! @Gingerhazing February 14th 2020 !!" Twitter/X, June 30, 2017, 3:16 PM. https://x.com/PatrickTOsborne/status/880867591094272000. ‌

5. “The Walt Disney Company to Acquire Twenty-First Century Fox, Inc., after Spinoff of Certain Businesses, for $52.4 Billion in Stock.” 2017. The Walt Disney Company. December 14, 2017. https://thewaltdisneycompany.com/walt-disney-company-acquire-twenty-first-century-fox-inc-spinoff-certain-businesses-52-4-billion-stock-2/.

6. Amidi, Amid. 2017. “Disney Buys Fox for $52.4 Billion: Here Are the Key Points of the Deal.” Cartoon Brew. December 14, 2017. https://www.cartoonbrew.com/business/disney-buys-fox-key-points-deal-155390.html; Giardina, Carolyn. 2017. “Disney Deal Could Redraw Fox’s Animation Business.” The Hollywood Reporter. December 14, 2017. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/general-news/disney-deal-could-redraw-foxs-animation-business-1068040/; Szalai, Georg, and Paul Bond. 2019. “Disney Closes $71.3 Billion Fox Deal, Creating Global Content Powerhouse.” The Hollywood Reporter. March 19, 2019. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/general-news/disney-closes-fox-deal-creating-global-content-powerhouse-1174498/.

7. Hipes, Patrick. 2019. “After Trying Day, Disney Sets Film Leadership Lineup.” Deadline. March 22, 2019. https://deadline.com/2019/03/disney-film-executives-post-merger-team-set-1202580586/.

8. Jones, Rendy. 2023. “‘Nimona’: Netflix’s Remarkable Trans-Rights Animated Movie Is Here.” Rolling Stone. July 3, 2023. https://www.rollingstone.com/tv-movies/tv-movie-features/nimona-netflix-trans-rights-animated-movie-lgbtq-riz-ahmed-chloe-grace-moretz-1234782583/.

9. D’Alessandro, Anthony. 2021. “Disney Closing Blue Sky Studios, Fox’s Once-Dominant Animation House behind ‘Ice Age’ Franchise.” Deadline. February 9, 2021. https://deadline.com/2021/02/blue-sky-studios-closing-disney-ice-age-franchise-animation-1234690310/.

10. “Disney’s Blue Sky Shut down Leaves Nimona Film 75% Completed.” 2021. CBR. February 10, 2021. https://www.cbr.com/nimona-film-abandoned-disney-blue-sky-shut-down/; Sneider, Jeff. 2021. “Exclusive: Disney’s LGBTQ-Themed ‘Nimona’ Would’ve Featured the Voices of Chloë Grace Moretz, Riz Ahmed.” Collider. March 4, 2021. https://collider.com/nimona-movie-cast-cancelled-disney-blue-sky/.

11. Horowitz, Juliana Menasce, Anna Brown, and Rachel Minkin. 2021. “The COVID-19 Pandemic’s Long-Term Financial Impact.” Pew Research Center’s Social & Demographic Trends Project. March 5, 2021. https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2021/03/05/a-year-into-the-pandemic-long-term-financial-impact-weighs-heavily-on-many-americans/.

12. Lang, Brent. 2022. “Disney CEO Bob Iger’s Rich Compensation Package Revealed, Company Says Bob Chapek Fired ‘without Cause.’” Variety. November 21, 2022. https://variety.com/2022/film/finance/bob-iger-compensation-package-salary-bob-chapek-fired-1235439151/.

13. Romano, Nick. 2020. “The Pandemic Animation Boom: How Cartoons Became King in the Time of COVID.” EW.com. November 2, 2020. https://ew.com/movies/animation-boom-coronavirus-pandemic/.

14. Strapagiel, Lauren. 2021. “The Future of Disney’s First Animated Feature Film with Queer Leads, ‘Nimona,’ Is in Doubt.” BuzzFeed News. February 24, 2021. https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/laurenstrapagiel/disney-nimona-movie-lgbtq-characters.

15. Clark, Travis. 2022. “Disney Raised Concerns about a Same-Sex Kiss in the Unreleased Animated Movie ‘Nimona,’ Former Blue Sky Staffers Say.” Business Insider. https://www.businessinsider.com/disney-disapproved-same-sex-kiss-nimona-movie-former-staffers-say-2022-3.

16. Keegan, Rebecca. 2024. “Why Megan Ellison Saved ‘Nimona’: ‘I Needed This Movie.’” The Hollywood Reporter. February 22, 2024. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/megan-ellison-saved-nimona-1235832043/.

17. St. James, Emily. 2023. “Mourning the Loss of the Owl House, TV’s Best Queer Kids Show.” Vanity Fair. April 6, 2023. https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2023/04/loss-of-the-owl-house-tvs-best-queer-kids-show.

18. AntagonistDana. 2021. “AMA (except by ‘Anything’ I Mean These Questions Only).” Reddit. October 5, 2021. https://www.reddit.com/r/TheOwlHouse/comments/q1x1uh/ama_except_by_anything_i_mean_these_questions_only/; de Wit, Alex Dudok. 2020. “Disney Executive Tried to Block Queer Characters in ‘the Owl House,’ Says Creator.” 2020. Cartoon Brew. August 14, 2020. https://www.cartoonbrew.com/disney/disney-executives-tried-to-block-queer-characters-in-the-owl-house-says-creator-195413.html.

19. Doherty, Thomas. 1999. Pre-Code Hollywood : Sex, Immorality, and Insurrection in American Cinema, 1930-1934. New York: Columbia University Press. 363.

20. Henderson, Taylor. 2018. “‘Steven Universe’s’ Latest Episode Just Made LGBTQ History.” Pride. July 5, 2018. https://www.pride.com/stevenuniverse/2018/7/05/steven-universes-latest-episode-just-made-lgbtq-history; McDonnell, Chris. 2020. Steven Universe: End of an Era. New York: Abrams. 102.

21. Stevenson, ND. (@Gingerhazing). 2021. "Sad day. Thanks for the well wishes, and sending so much love to everyone at Blue Sky. Forever grateful for all the care and joy you poured into Nimona." Twitter/X, February 9, 2021, 3:32 PM. https://x.com/Gingerhazing/status/1359238823935283200

22. Jones, Rendy. 2023. “‘Nimona’: Netflix’s Remarkable Trans-Rights Animated Movie Is Here.” Rolling Stone. July 3, 2023. https://www.rollingstone.com/tv-movies/tv-movie-features/nimona-netflix-trans-rights-animated-movie-lgbtq-riz-ahmed-chloe-grace-moretz-1234782583/.

23. Keegan, Rebecca. 2024. “Why Megan Ellison Saved ‘Nimona’: ‘I Needed This Movie.’” The Hollywood Reporter. February 22, 2024. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/megan-ellison-saved-nimona-1235832043/.

24. Stevenson, ND. (@Gingerhazing). 2022. "Nimona’s always been a spunky little story that just wouldn’t stop. She’s a fighter...but she’s also got some really awesome people fighting for her. I am excited out of my mind to announce that THE NIMONA MOVIE IS ALIVE...coming at you in 2023 from Annapurna and Netflix." Twitter/X, April 11, 2022, 10:00 AM. https://x.com/Gingerhazing/status/1513517319841935363.

25. “‘Nimona’ Starring Chloë Grace Moretz, Riz Ahmed & Eugene Lee Yang Coming to Netflix in 2023.” About Netflix. April 11, 2022. https://about.netflix.com/en/news/nimona-starring-chloe-grace-moretz-riz-ahmed-and-eugene-lee-yang-coming-to-netflix.

26. “’Nimona’ Rates 100% on Rotten Tomatoes after Annecy Premiere.” Animation Magazine. June 15, 2023. https://www.animationmagazine.net/2023/06/nimona-rates-100-on-rotten-tomatoes-after-annecy-premiere/

27. Dilillo, John. 2023. “’Nimona’: Everything You Need to Know About the New Animated Adventure.” Tudum by Netflix. June 30, 2023. https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/nimona-release-date-news-photos

28. Reese, Lori. 2001. “Is ‘“Shrek”’ the Anti- Disney Fairy Tale?” Entertainment Weekly. May 29, 2001. https://ew.com/article/2001/05/29/shrek-anti-disney-fairy-tale/.

29. Sugano, Aidan. 2023. Nimona: the Digital Art Book. Netflix. 255. https://web.archive.org/web/20240309222607/https://artofnimona.com/.

30. White, Abbey. 2023. “How ‘Nimona’ Explores the Model Minority Stereotype through Its Queer API Love Story.” The Hollywood Reporter. July 1, 2023. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-features/nimona-eugene-lee-yang-directors-race-love-story-netflix-1235526714/.

31. White, Abbey. 2023. “How ‘Nimona’ Explores the Model Minority Stereotype through Its Queer API Love Story.” The Hollywood Reporter. July 1, 2023. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-features/nimona-eugene-lee-yang-directors-race-love-story-netflix-1235526714/.

32. Equal Justice Initiative. 2021. “Report Documents Racial Bias in Coverage of Crime by Media.” Equal Justice Initiative. December 16, 2021. https://eji.org/news/report-documents-racial-bias-in-coverage-of-crime-by-media/.

33. Stevenson, N. D. 2023. “Nimona (the Comic): A Deep Dive.” I’m Fine I’m Fine Just Understand. July 13, 2023. https://www.imfineimfine.com/p/nimona-the-comic-a-deep-dive.

34. Sugano, Aidan. 2023. Nimona: the Digital Art Book. Netflix. 259-260. https://web.archive.org/web/20240309222607/https://artofnimona.com/.

35. Sugano, Aidan. 2023. Nimona: the Digital Art Book. Netflix. 7. https://web.archive.org/web/20240309222607/https://artofnimona.com/.

36. Brown, Tracy. 2019. “In Netflix’s ‘She-Ra,’ Even Villains Respect Nonbinary Pronouns.” Los Angeles Times. November 6, 2019. https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/tv/story/2019-11-05/netflix-she-ra-princesses-power-nonbinary-double-trouble.

37. Department of Homeland Security. 2019. “If You See Something, Say Something®.” Department of Homeland Security. May 10, 2019. https://www.dhs.gov/see-something-say-something.

38. University of Stanford. n.d. “Stephon Clark.” Say Their Names - Spotlight at Stanford. https://exhibits.stanford.edu/saytheirnames/feature/stephon-clark.

39. Kidd, Jeremy D., Tettamanti, Nicky A., Kaczmarkiewicz, Roma, Corbeil, Thomas E., Dworkin, Jordan D., Jackman, Kasey B., Hughes, Tonda L., Bockting, Walter O., & Meyer, Ilan H. 2023. “Prevalence of Substance Use and Mental Health Problems among Transgender and Cisgender US Adults.” Williams Institute. https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/publications/transpop-substance-use/.

40. “2023 Anti-Trans Bills: Trans Legislation Tracker.” n.d. Trans Legislation Tracker. https://translegislation.com/bills/2023.

41. James, S.E., Herman, J.L., Durso, L.E., & Heng-Lehtinen, R. 2024. “Early Insights: A Report of the 2022 U.S. Transgender Survey.” National Center for Transgender Equality, Washington, DC.

42. Myers, Catherine. 2023. “Protests in the Age of Social Media.” The Nonviolence Project. February 11, 2023. https://thenonviolenceproject.wisc.edu/2023/02/11/protests-in-the-age-of-social-media/.

43. Auxier, Brooke, and Colleen McClain. 2020. “Americans Think Social Media Can Help Build Movements, but Can Also Be a Distraction.” Pew Research Center. Pew Research Center. September 9, 2020. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2020/09/09/americans-think-social-media-can-help-build-movements-but-can-also-be-a-distraction/.

44. Stevenson, N. D. 2023. “Nimona (the Comic): A Deep Dive.” I’m Fine I’m Fine Just Understand. July 13, 2023. https://www.imfineimfine.com/p/nimona-the-comic-a-deep-dive.

45. Chapman, Wilson. 2022. “HBO Max to Remove 36 Titles, Including 20 Originals, from Streaming.” Variety. August 18, 2022. https://variety.com/2022/tv/news/hbo-max-originals-removed-1235344286/.

46. Iftikhar, Asyia. 2023. “Netflix CEO Slammed by LGBTQ+ Fans over Cancellation Comments: ‘They Are NOT Allies.’” PinkNews. January 24, 2023. https://www.thepinknews.com/2023/01/24/netflix-ceo-ted-sarandos-cancelled-shows-lgbtq-fans-reactions/.

47. Lang, Jamie. 2023. “Netflix Has Released a 358-Page Multimedia Art of Book for ‘Nimona’ - Exclusive.” Cartoon Brew. October 12, 2023. https://www.cartoonbrew.com/books/nimona-art-of-book-aidan-sugano-netflix-233636.html.

48. “Wayback Machine.” n.d. The Internet Archive. Accessed June 10, 2024. https://wayback-api.archive.org/web/20240000000000.

49. Lang, Jamie. 2023. “Netflix Has Released a 358-Page Multimedia Art of Book for ‘Nimona’ - Exclusive.” Cartoon Brew. October 12, 2023. https://www.cartoonbrew.com/books/nimona-art-of-book-aidan-sugano-netflix-233636.html.

#original essays #original post #nimona #nimona movie #nimona 2023 #nimona film

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hiddenbysuccubi · 2 years ago

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#.#there's this shirt I own #I've had it 10 years and it still smells the same #YES IT"S CLEAN FFS #I've washed it and I didn't always take it on every move but it's always been safe and important #of course I have it with me now for comfort #and despite being with other clothes #in cars and across states #it smells the damn same as it did in PV when it was given to me - moreso the trippy brain magic of memory than its actual scent I gather #but it works #It's the only thing that person every gave me except a heartache and an inabilty #to ever fall in love as deeply again #And while that person hasn't existed for a long long time just as the me they knew hasn't #I am happy that they got the family they wanted #I'm happy for me in my life too in stranger and weirder and increasingly odder circumstances and ways #Our relationship was messy it was scary it was new it was young we were stupid we were long distance we were strangers to ourselves as #we are now #But I come back to it every time. I've felt love for others since I had felt a kind of love before then #And I don't feel grief for it the way I did even 4 or 5 years ago #but maybe I'll just carry him into the rest of my life and maybe I should be at peace and accept that instead of trying to squash it #And continue to take every step forward in my own life #maybe I will get cassie tattooed on my right wrist some day #as well as the water colors I've dreamed of on my existing Orion and on Cassiopeia #blue gradient on orion #orange varient on cassiopeia #It's been a dream since as far back as possibly 2014 #And then maybe I'll STOP BEING IN THE OUT COLD MOUNTAINS #getting subconsciously in relationships with people who look and act like a GHOST #giving out chances and attachment and love to UNDESERVING PEOPLE again subconsciously because of all the pent up reserved emotional bs I #had saved unknowingly for SOMEONE ELSE

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sergeantjessi · 2 years ago

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one of my sideblogs now has more followers than my main, which is nice in a way, because i put stuff i made on that blog, and despite obviously also rb'ing other people's things, i feel strangely valued.

#its especially funny bc i started the sideblog in 2018 and was like actively posting for around a year #and after that i shared like a total of 5 posts per year until recently #which means this blog has been existing for 4 years and only was active for 1 #and i still managed to gain a bigger following there than on my main which has been active for many years. damn /j #own #the sergeant speaks

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scarlet-star-witch · 4 months ago

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The moon and his sun (Epilogue)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 6 K

Warnings: you know the drill, its fluff and angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Amond startled awake, his bloody and violent nightmare fading as his eye adjusted to the dark room around him.

He instinctively reached out beside him, searching for his beloved wife, but when his hand met nothing but soft sheets, he sat up abruptly. His heart that had been slowing as he relaxed from the reality that his vicious nightmare had been just that, a nightmare, began to race once more.

His eye searched the room frantically, his breathing becoming heavy as fear gripped him tightly.

Remnants of his nightmare, thoughts of Daemon ambushing his home to enact his bloody revenge, lingered in his mind and suddenly, all he could think of was his damned uncle ripping his family from him.

He sprang out of bed and raced out of their chambers. He stood still, his chest heaving as he took in the calm stillness of the night, no guards shouting or racing towards danger, no screams of terror, no smell of smoke from destructive dragon fire, nothing that signaled an incoming fight.

Yet his heart still raced.

His feet moved quickly, taking him to the room across the hall.

His throat was tight with worry as he rushed into the room, his gaze immediately locking onto the small body curled in bed. He let out a ragged breath at the sight of his daughter unharmed and sleeping peacefully.

He looked around her room, inspecting for danger, his thoughts not yet derailed from the possibility of an impending threat. He let out a harsh breath when he realized there was no intruder, no one that dared to hurt his precious daughter.

He stepped towards her bed slowly, trying not to make a sound and disturb her sleep.

He felt his lips twitch upwards, a smile growing as he looked down at the sleeping angel before him. His beautiful daughter, his perfect little Valia.

She was the perfect mix of him and his wife, with her long silver hair and eyes that sparkled with delight like her mothers.

She certainly gained her mother’s mischief and was seldom seen without a toothy grin that never failed to bring a smile to those that passed her. At only two years old, she had changed his entire life.

His entire heart beat for her and her mother.

They were the ones that got him out of bed in the morning, that brought him a smile every single day, that made him feel joy and love he couldn’t have ever comprehended.

He gently tucked a stray strand of hair away from her face, his heart aching just looking at the life he helped to create, the life he cherished more than his own. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her blankets up higher around her, protecting her from the chill in the room.

With one last, loving look to his little girl, he left her room, no longer feeling as though his lungs were constricted with fear. All he needed was to see her safe and sound to soothe every one of his worries that lingered from his nightmare.

Now he needed to find his wife.

With his nerves no longer haywire, he knew exactly where she would be.

He had to fight his growing smile as he made his way down to the kitchens.

It wasn’t unusual that she would wake him in the dead of night, pleading with him to bring her honeycakes, but it was the first time she hadn’t woken him and gone herself.

He slowed his pace, quieting his steps as he approached the kitchens, peeking his head around the corner, his eye softening in an instant at the sight of his wife.

Even after their years together, she never failed to make his heart race in the best way possible. He felt as though every ounce of his worry and fear dissipated into nothing as he looked at her, as he was reminded of what he’d been able to create in his once miserable life.

“I don’t know why I bothered to worry. I should have known you’d be down here instead of in our bed.”

She startled slightly at the sound of his voice, placing her hand over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him in silent admonishment for sneaking up on her.

“Do you have so little faith in me, my love, you didn’t task me with bringing you your midnight snack?” He asked as he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, attempting to keep his expression neutral and not melt as she smiled at him sheepishly.

“Sorry.” She mumbled through her large bite of honeycake. It was the sight of crumbs falling over her lip that finally broke him, smiling and shaking his head as he laughed. “I didn’t want to wake you again, but I was starving.”

She immediately leaned back into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, sighing heavily in relief as his hands cradled under the large swell of her belly, giving her back a rest from the weight of the babes she carried.

At only 6 moons pregnant, she felt like she was already minutes from popping. The Maesters were sure it was twins this time around, something she wasn’t as thrilled about as Aemond. It was easy for him to be excited when it wasn’t his back that was constantly aching.

She could easily let herself fall into her husband’s arms, but despite his loving touch, she couldn’t help but worry, as she always did, about the dark circles under his eyes, about why he was awake yet again in the middle of the night.

“Did you have another nightmare?” She asked quietly and the moment she felt him tense behind her, she knew she had her answer.

She let out a long breath, her hands moving to cover his, gently caressing over his knuckles, admiring the strong hands that held her and her daughter so gently, that protected them so fiercely.

“It’s been years. Rhaenyra knows what will happen if she dares to threaten you.”

“It is not Rhaenyra I worry about.” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words aloud, speaking his fears of his uncle’s retaliation into existence, would summon him.

“Do you think he would risk his Queen’s reign to get revenge?”

“I think his bloodlust overrules anything else he deems to care for.” Aemond replied bitterly, the mere thought of the man enough to rattle him and ruin the peace he had created for himself. “He is reckless and stubborn. If he decides he wants revenge he will stop at nothing until he gets it.”

Her heart jumped at the thought. The notion of the last few years of bliss they’ve had dissipating back into a violent and bloody war that left no survivors was enough to spring tears to her eyes, ones she tried desperately to hold back.

Aemond noticed the shift in her immediately and held to her tighter, his lips pressing soft kisses along the slope of her neck.

“You know I would protect you. You and Valia would never face any danger as long as I live.” He whispered, assuring her of his lifelong purpose to never let another wound mar her body, to never let his daughter know of any pain.

He took her hand in his, his eye tortured as his thumb caressed the scar on her palm, the vicious reminder of that night and what they had lost. A shuddering breath escaped him as the memory of that night and the months of agony that followed wreaked havoc on him yet again.

They seemed distant yet not far enough away to let him breathe easy.

She turned in his arms to face him, her hands now cradling his jaw as she looked at him intently.

“I have no doubt that you will protect us and every single person on this Island.”

He looked bashful yet prideful from her comment, as if it were exactly what he needed to hear, but he couldn’t handle it. He looked at her lovingly and leaned forward, kissing her deeply.

She melted into him, holding him closely, feeling his body unclench, finally letting his fears drift into the back of his mind.

A kick against his stomach had him pulling away, his eye wide with surprise. He laughed in delight as he placed his palm against her growing stomach, feeling his little dragons kick against him.

“There are my loves.” He mumbled as he looked down at her belly in wonder, already counting down the days until he could hold them in his arms. “Don’t give your mother too much trouble, my dragons.”

She hummed and leaned into him.

“If only they listened to you.”

Aemond smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, pulling the plate of honeycakes closer, the only salvation he could give her in this state. She rolled her eyes with a huff of laughter as she took another dessert, hoping it would calm her growing babies enough to let her sleep for the rest of the night.

As Aemond held her, feeling his babes kick against his hand, knowing his precious daughter was safe in her bed, his thoughts drifted to those that were left of his family that resided in King’s Landing.

He knew if they ever dared to threaten his family he would show them no mercy.

She let out a louder than intended groan as she sat on the bench that overlooked the water, blowing out a deep breath as she finally gave her feet some well needed rest.

She rubbed at her swollen belly, dreading that she had many more weeks of this state.

“Momma!”

She looked up, plastering on a wide smile as she waved to her daughter who was splashing in the waves. She shared a knowing look with Helaena, who nodded in silent assurance that she would grab her rambunctious daughter if she waded out too far into the water.

She appreciated Helaena’s watchful eye, but with her daughter’s faithful cousins at her side, she knew she had little reason to worry.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys loved their cousin fiercely and they were seldom seen without the little two year old following them wherever they went.

She watched the children play with a wistful smile, eagerly anticipating the arrival of their two babes, the growing number of children in the castle a salve to the torment they had endured just years ago.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, what they faced in King’s Landing.

Some days were easier to live, where the memories did not rear their ugly head, when the loss of their first babe did not make her want to bury herself beneath her sheets and pretend the world outside her door didn’t exist.

The days the memories sought to destroy her, all it took was one look at her precious daughter and she was powerless against the love that bloomed for her child, healed in a matter of seconds with one look at her sweet smile.

She couldn’t deny that she held the same fears as her husband, that she sometimes found her eyes skyward, seeking out the familiar figures of dragons headed their way, ready to burn Ixtal to ash.

She could only hope her threats to Rhaenyra just mere years ago were enough to hold her off. Surely, she treasured her position as Queen more than she longed for revenge.

“My love.”

She was broken from her thoughts, turning to see her husband approaching with a smile. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he took a seat next to her, his hand immediately laying over her belly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” She answered quickly, her reflexive answer to the question he asked many times a day.

Aemond moved his hand to her back, rubbing in soothing motions, wishing he could take her aches away, wishing she didn’t have to go through so much pain to bring their precious babes into the world.

She leaned into him, soaking up his touch. She let her eyes fall closed, her heavy thoughts dissipating with the continued motions of his hand.

Despite the ache in her feet and back, despite the nausea that had yet to leave her since that morning, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was in absolute bliss to be in her husband’s arms.

“Where’s Valia?”

“In the water.” She told him without opening her eyes.

Aemond felt as though his chest bloomed with love as he watched his daughter stomp in the waves. Her hand held tightly with Jaehaera, their loud squeals of laughter every time a wave crashed against them bringing a smile to his lips.

He wished he could have known all those years ago that the sound of his daughter’s laugh would soothe every wound within him, that she would heal every slight he ever experienced.

His eye narrowed, his stomach flipping as he watched his sweet daughter begin to climb along the rocks at the shore.

“Be careful!” He called out loudly, startling his wife out of her daze.

“She’s fine.” She assured him, placing her hand over his.

“She could slip.”

“I was younger than her when I began climbing those same rocks and I was fine.” She told him, waving off his concerns. Her daughter’s wandering nature was a harsh reminder of the torment she had put her own parents through at her age.

“Isn’t that how you got this scar?” Aemond asked, his finger trailing along the faint mark on her forearm.

“No, I got this after falling out of my tree when I was five.”

Aemond huffed and rolled his eye, his heart already aching for the stress his daughter would surely put him through over the next decade.

His wife giggled, earning her a playful scowl, which only made her laugh harder.

“Breathe, my love. You’ll be gray by the end of the year if you do not relax.”

He scoffed, his fingers just barely grasping at her waist before she jerked away, latching onto his wrist before he could tickle her.

“Don’t you dare.”

Aemond smiled cheekily, the sight making her stomach twist. Her raging hormones swept over her, the mischief in her eye suddenly turning to desire. He noticed immediately, having seen that look enough times over the years to know exactly what she wanted and his own eye darkened in realization.

“Later.” He promised, though he couldn’t deny that it took all of his self control to not drag her to their chambers right that second.

But he had been stuck in a council meeting all morning and he longed to be with his family for the afternoon.

He could at least wait until his daughter was put down for her nap to ravish his insatiable wife.

Aemond let out a sigh, a sound of pure contentment as he watched his daughter play, his wife in his arms, the warm breeze of Ixtal adorning his skin.

It was paradise, everything he had wanted since he was a boy.

He was content to stay in that moment forever.

Suddenly a faint noise sounded that raised every hair on his body, the quiet trill one he recognized, but couldn’t quite put his finger on. He stiffened and sat forward, his keen eye surveying for a threat. He almost thought he had imagined the noise when he heard it again, this time louder.

His chest heaved with nervous breaths as he looked to the sky, his wide eye darting between the clouds.

“Aemond?” She asked, having felt him tense beneath her.

Her own fear began to rise as she noticed the look in his eye. Her gaze followed his own, her stomach dropping as dreaded anticipation fell over them.

Suddenly, a lithe red dragon descended from the clouds, a shrieking whistle sounding across the Island.

Caraxes.

Aemond felt as though the blood in his veins froze as his nightmare played out before him.

He was on his feet in a second, his hands holding tightly to his wife as he helped her stand. He barely heard her call out to him fearfully as he started to run, screaming for their daughter.

Helaena’s eyes were wide with fright as she yelled for her children, frantically gesturing them to her side.

“Go!” Aemond yelled to her as he ran past her.

There was a ringing in his ears as he sprinted, his gaze locked onto his daughter who was trying to get down from the rocks, her face twisted in fear. It was like a dagger in his heart.

He cared little for his boots that were now soaked as he raced through the waves to get to her. His arms were out the second he was close enough.

“Daddy.” She sobbed as he made it to her. She practically fell into his arms, her little body that shook with her frightful cries tearing away pieces of him.

“I’ve got you, my Sweet. You’re ok.” He assured her, cradling her to him tightly as he ran out of the waves.

His heart was in his throat as he approached his wife whose eyes were locked onto the approaching dragon.

“Get inside.” Aemond ordered, mournfully passing Valia into her arms.

“Aemond-”

“Go, now!”

“Aemond, please-”

He kissed her fiercely, the moment entirely too brief before he pulled away, his wide eye betraying his terror. He placed his hand on his daughter’s back, watching as she clung to her mother who looked equally as terrified.

A lump grew in his throat that made it hard to breathe. His eye met his wife whose tears brazenly fell down her cheeks.

“I will come back to you, I promise.”

He spared one final look to his daughter before tearing himself from their side, racing desperately towards Vhagar.

She could only watch as her husband left, her chest heaving, her hands clutching to her daughter who cried into the crook of her neck.

The distant screams of townsfolk and guards broke her out of her daze and she moved as quickly as she could while heavily pregnant with twins into the safety of the castle.

Helaena was immediately by her side, taking Valia from her, who only cried harder at being separated from her mother, but she couldn’t hold her for long in her state.

“It’s ok, darling.” She assured her shakily, her hand running through her silver hair as she clung to her waist, her fingers tangling in the fabric of her dress.

“I didn’t see it.” Helaena’s voice caught her attention, sounding despondent, as if trapped in a daze. “I didn’t see Daemon coming. I didn’t dream of this. I should have dreamt this, I should have known.”

“Helaena, this is not your fault.” She told her sternly, grabbing onto her hands tightly. “We all knew this was a possibility.”

Helaena didn’t looked assured by her words, the furrow between her brows deep, her eyes still wide with horror.

“Come on, we have to get the children to safety.”

It was chaos within the castle, guards rushing outside, as though there was anything they could do to defend themselves against dragonfire. Townsfolk were corralled in, the mass of people crying in fear.

Their home had never seen conflict, every other house in the realm was smarter than to attack their house, knowing what dire consequences they would face.

Apparently Daemon defied even the barest of logic.

She heard her name called and turned to see her father approaching, the worry palpable in his expression.

“Where is Aemond?”

“He is going to Vhagar.”

He nodded and reached for her hand, the only comfort he could give her.

“What do we do?” She asked tearfully.

“We pray Aemond wins. It is all we can do.”

The fury was burning within him like wildfire.

Adrenaline thrummed in his veins, forcing him to have to steady his trembling hands as he gripped at the saddle as Vhagar took to the skies.

While Vhagar was slow, she was bigger than Caraxes and through their bond, she could feel his anger, the pure protective rage that radiated from him, leaving her equally as bloodthirsty as her rider.

Caraxes roared and even with the distance between them, Aemond could see the hatred on Daemon’s face, his expression twisted with derision as he commanded his dragon forward.

Aemond straightened his shoulders, his jaw clenching, a brief thought of his wife, daughter, and unborn children flashing through his mind, only fueling him forward.

“Vhagar, attack.”

The roar Vhagar let out was enough to shake even the most hardened of soldiers, but it did little to stray Daemon from his vendetta.

Aemond vowed it would be his uncle’s last mistake.

The crowd of people crammed into the throne room cried out in unison as the screeches of dragon were heard, shaking the very foundation of the castle.

Valia whimpered and held to her tighter, her daughter’s fear like a lance to the heart, striking her fiercely.

Her heart was racing, her hands shaking. They felt like sitting ducks, waiting for their turn to face the slaughter.

She thought of her husband, fighting alone, fighting a battle no one but him could fight, and it turned her stomach.

She placed her hand on her chest, as if she could will her dangerously racing heart to slow.

“You need to breathe.” Her mother told her, holding tightly to her hand. “This stress isn’t good for you or the babes.”

“I don’t think breathing will deter my stress.” She responded sharply. “I can’t take this. I cannot just sit here doing nothing while my husband risks his life.”

Her mother clicked her tongue and looked at her fiercely.

“Unless there are spare dragons laying around waiting for your claim, there is nothing else you can do.”

She let out a shuddering breath, burying her face in her hands, fearing she was only seconds away from breaking. Another deafening roar shook the castle, causing another wave of screams and frightened cries to ring out among the room.

She looked around at the faces of those around her, the fear palpable. She couldn’t stand it.

“Stay with Valia.” She told her mother, pressing a quick kiss to her daughter’s cheek before hurrying forward, pushing her way through the crowd.

She dimly heard her mother calling out to her, but she ignored it, moving forward with haste.

The halls were sparse, leaving no one to question her journey.

She moved slower than she would’ve liked with the two babes she carried, but she eventually made her way up the stairs to their chambers. She didn’t exactly know what she was doing, she didn’t know what she’d gain from this, all she knew was she couldn't stay in that room as she worried for her husband.

With a heavy weight settled on her chest, making it hard to breathe, she opened the balcony doors, her eyes immediately landing on the two dragons in the sky locked in battle.

She blinked rapidly to stave off the tears that brimmed in her eyes, threatening her faint vision of her husband.

She watched as Craxes and Vhagar fought, as the two mighty dragons threw brutal blows, claws slashing, teeth tearing, and fire burning in a deadly stand.

Caraxes claws slashed against Vhagar’s belly and the sound the ancient dragon let out made her stomach twist, threatening to bring her to her knees. She held tightly to the railing in front of her, the only thing that kept her upright as she watched the dragons tangle viciously.

She flinched at every pained sound the dragons made, every swipe that hurt Vhagar, every snap of Caraxes’ jaws that were too close to Aemond.

“Please, please, don’t leave me.” She whispered into the wind. She hoped the gods were listening, she hoped they would show her mercy, that Aemond would be victorious, that their peace would not equate to only a matter of years rather than the lifetime they longed for.

“What are you doing up here?”

She jumped, turning to see her father approaching her worriedly, his hands latching onto her to pull her back, but she struggled, refusing his advances and stood strongly, her gaze never leaving her husband’s dragon in the sky.

“No, I can’t leave!”

“You are torturing yourself. This isn’t good for you.”

“I need to see him.”

“You don’t need to see any of this. If Aemond were to perish-”

“Then I need to be here. I need to be with him until the last second, even if he cannot even see me. I will not let myself waste a single second I have left of him.” She sobbed, her heart aching at the possibility of her husband failing, of this being his final day.

Her father’s shoulders sagged, looking at her devastatingly and he quickly pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried into chest.

Another cry of pain from Vhagar had her flinching, burying herself further into her father’s arms.

Sobs shook her body as she silently prayed for Aemond, for their family, for the babes within her. She wouldn’t survive if she lost him, if her babes never got to meet their father who already loved them so deeply.

A bloodcurdling screech had her looking back to the sky, her eyes widening as she saw Caraxes neck trapped within Vhagar’s jaws, blood pouring from the wound, falling from the sky like poison rain.

She heard the shouts of the guards that lined the castle walls as the dragons writhed in the sky, plummeting fast to the ground.

She flinched as a scorpion bolt shot through the air, dangerously close to Vhagar. She grit her teeth and looked down at the row of guards, a scream of rage bubbling in her throat for their carelessness.

A second bolt tore forward and hit true, striking Caraxes in the wing.

She almost stumbled over her own feet as she watched the dragon fall. Turning on her heel, she was racing out of the room before the dragon could hit the ground.

Her father sighed as he watched her quickly retreating form, knowing it was useless to stop her.

He looked out to the dragon that now lay on his shores and, as Vhagar landed with a mighty roar, he turned, content to not watch the slaughter about to unfold and overtaken with relief that his good son had triumphed.

Across the castle, with tears steadily falling down her cheeks, her breath leaving her in heavy, frantic pants, she pushed past the line of guards, ignoring their warnings to step outside.

“Aemond!” She screamed the moment she was outside, holding tightly to her belly as she descended the stairs down to the beach.

The first thing she saw was the body of Caraxes laid out on the sand, pools of blood blooming, staining the sand red.

She then noticed Vhagar next to the dead dragon, her maw bloody.

She could have collapsed from relief, but the absence of her husband kept her moving forward. She called out to him again, sounding more desperate.

Among the wreckage that was the fallen dragon, a lone figure emerged, limping forward slowly. Her breath caught in her throat and before she could realize, she was racing forward, little care given as to who she was headed towards, but she already knew.

She would’ve felt if it were Daemon, if Aemond had been the one to succumb to the battle. Her heart would’ve given out the moment he ceased to breathe, she was sure of it.

The closer she got, she could make out the eyepatch, the tall form of her husband, the figure so familiar it healed every ounce of despair that had been so close to overtaking her.

She sobbed and cried out his name again.

Aemond limped forward quickly, his brows furrowed at the sight of her, his stomach flipping with a mixture of relief yet annoyed that she was so close to such a violent display.

His arms opened the second she was close, allowing her to fall into his embrace. He hissed as a wave of pain washed over him, making him stumble against the weight of her crushing hug.

She pulled away, looking at him worriedly, her hands hovering over him, unsure of how to help him as he stumbled to his knees.

“W-what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“It’s my leg.” He choked out. She slowly got to her knees, wincing with effort, noticing the gash in his pant leg and the dark blood that stained his calf.

“Daemon-”

“He’s dead. I made sure.” Aemond told her, his voice void of emotion, making her nerves rise once again in a quick second.

She cradled his face in her hands, forcing his head up to face her, noticing he was in a shocked daze, his eye hazy and distant.

“Look at me, please.” She spoke gently. “You are alright. You won. You protected us.”

“I protected you.” He repeated weakly, as if it were now just registering to him, his victory, his triumph over his famed uncle.

He practically shuddered, a trembling exhale falling past his lips.

“It was- he almost- he could have-” He rambled brokenly, unable to piece together his words, unable to say outloud how close he had come to succumbing to his uncle. Dark sister had pierced his leg, but if it had not been Vhagar swerving at the last second, his sword would’ve torn right through his eye.

“He didn’t. You did it, Aemond. You defeated him. You saved us all.”

Aemond looked to her, as if just now realizing she was real, that she was truly before him, alive and breathing, just as he was.

He let out a choked breath, tears falling down his cheek as he suddenly lurched forward, wrapping her in his arms, holding to her so tightly it stole her breath away.

Her body trembled just as he did, the two lovers locked into an embrace that held the franticness of a brush with death.

“I’ve got you, Aemond. You’re safe now, we all are.”

Her whispered words had a sob escaping him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. It all hit him so suddenly, the adrenaline fading, leaving him with the reality of how close he had been to losing it all, how close his family had been to danger.

“Valia, where is she? I need to see her, I need to make sure she is ok, that she didn’t-”

“She’s fine, Aemond.” She assured him. “She’s frightened, but she is unharmed.”

He nodded, breathing out heavily, the dragon blood pumping through his veins singing, leaving him shaking in her arms.

“You’re ok.” She whispered.

It was as his wife held him tightly, her hand stroking through his hair, that the pain in his leg faded, retreating into the back of his mind, as he let himself be enveloped in the love his wife freely gave to him.

He was victorious. He didn’t feel it as he drove his sword through his uncle’s heart as he lay broken and bloody beneath his dead dragon.

He only felt it in the arms of his wife, feeling the babes in her womb kick under his hand, knowing he would see his daughter safe inside.

They made it real. They made the title of Kinslayer twice over bearable and more than worth the price.

Barely a week later, she sat in the council chamber, her hand latched in her husband’s. He had scarcely left her side since the attack, he had barely slept to keep an eye on her, commanding Valia sleep in their bed so he could watch them both, ensuring their safety.

During the day, he was insatiable, taking every moment they had alone to ravish her until she screamed, his grip on her tight and desperate. He took her with a fervor as if they were newlyweds again.

He could barely keep his eye off of her since he feared he would lose her.

“We have received word from Rhaenyra.” Her father announced from his seat at the head of the table. “It appears Daemon had acted against her orders. She has sent her deepest apologies for any harm he caused.”

Her eldest brother scoffed at the news.

“She’s trying to save face so we do not storm King’s Landing.”

“Is that really something we want to do?” She chimed in fearfully.

“No, I do not wish for war.” Her father assured her. His gaze then turned to the silver haired Prince, noticing he had yet to speak a word.

“Rhaenyra does not deserve the throne. Especially not after this.”

“Aemond should sit the throne.”

“We can rally our allies.”

“Rhaenyra might just abdicate when she sees the support we garner.”

The voices in the room overwhelmed him, overlapping in a barrage of noise that only seemed to aggravate his already pounding headache.

“Aemond, what is it you wish to do?” His father by law’s voice cut through the cacophony of chaos, silencing everyone else in the room.

His words seemed to startle him out of his thoughts and his hand involuntarily squeezed hers, as if he needed comfort in that moment.

“This is your family. It is you who defended our home. Whatever you decide, we will respect.”

“I do not want the throne.” Aemond finally spoke, his voice terse. The mere thought of the throne, yet another war over that stupid chair, turned his stomach. “It has caused enough trouble. Rhaenyra can have it.”

“So we let this insane attack go unpunished?”

She winced as one of her father’s advisors pointed his glare towards her husband.

“Daemon is dead. I’d say that is punishment enough for his actions, don’t you?” Aemond countered, eyeing the man across the table with vitriol.

The atmosphere in the meeting was awkward, with few words spared as they adjourned. She was slow as she stood, her gaze on her husband as he made no move to stand from his seat.

She spared a look with her father, nodding to him, silently assuring him that she would soothe her husband.

Only when the others left and it was just the two of them in the room, did she face him, leaning against the table and taking his hand in hers, stopping his anxious fidgeting.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“I do not wish to fight in a senseless war.”

“Even for a throne you deserve more than her? A throne you could easily win.”

Aemond let out a deep breath, his mind a mess of thoughts. He once desired the throne, before he truly saw the trouble it caused and the crushing weight of responsibility and sacrifice that came with it.

Now it was the last thing he desired.

“I am not going back to King’s Landing. I will never take my daughter to a place that holds nothing but pain. I will not take you back to the place I almost lost you.” He told her reverently, looking up at her deeply, as if he was desperate that she would feel the same way.

Her breath caught in her throat and she was suddenly aware of just how much she did not wish to venture back to the place that had almost crushed them.

She nodded, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“But Rhaenyra-”

“She is already facing punishment.” Aemond interrupted swiftly. “If she loved Daemon even a quarter as much as I love you, then she is facing the worst possible consequence she could ever face with his death. Let her live with it, let her suffer with her broken heart.”

She shouldn’t have felt her heart swell at his words, so dark and harsh against a woman that had caused them so much pain, but she couldn’t deny the swell of emotions she felt for him in that moment.

She reached out, caressing her hand through his hair. His eye fell shut as if her touch brought him more relief than any potion or medicine ever could. His hands found her waist, ushering her forward to sit upon his lap.

He held to her strongly, as if there was still a threat that could rip her away from him.

“Our home is here. Our children belong here and I will never, for any reason, step foot in that place again.”

His words were absolute, leaving no room for argument, not that she had any.

“I have everything I need here. That will never change.”

She smiled and let her forehead fall against his, her lips finding his effortlessly. They kissed sweetly, the gesture one of nothing but pure relief and assurance that they still had each other and always would.

“I love you.” She whispered and Aemond smiled. Those words never failed to stir emotion within him.

“I love you, my sun.”

Thank you all so much for reading! I can't believe this story is over! I'm so attached to these characters and my delusional AU so if you want more, I am more than willing to continue, just give me the word xx

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic

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bigwishes · 5 months ago

Text

Big Man on Campus

(a trade with @alphajocklover)

Trent had been going to college for almost 4 years at this point, he was 21 and steadily approaching his 22nd birthday and approaching his graduation even faster. He had spent most of his time inside, working on his computer engineering degree or gaming. He didn't really care for the college party scene, he'd much rather stay in his tidy little single all weekend until monday classes.

but when it finally sank in how close it was to being over Trent couldn't help but have a little bit of regret, should he have hit the gym with the other guys on his floor? should he have joined the casual rowing team just for some fun and exercise? was computer science really what he wanted a degree in? Senior doubt and regret flooded his mind, but there was still an upside. 4 months were left, 4 months he'd make the most of.

Trent went on the college forums looking for something to do, he thought about a few of the options but found two that he really liked. The first was a dungeons and dragons club the second was listen as an exercise club but it also seemed to be a project for two sport science students.

Transformation Experiment Ground: "Our names are Brody and Clark, we are looking for young males on campus who are out of shape looking to get in shape and help with our experiment. Come form a sense of community, get the body you desire and help us with our research!" Monday came and classes went. Normally Trent would go home and smash out a few ours gaming but it was time for his clubs to start. First he had the sport experiment thing, the only issue was he only had a few minutes to get to the dnd club across campus, but he wasn't sure how sweaty he'd get or if he'd need a shower. He just had to hope there was a shower at the campus gym.

Trent checked his phone, he thought he was going to the campus gym but the address was for a room in the athlete scholarship dorms. Trent walked passed the gym and into the building next to it. The halls had photos of previous college athletes plastered up between the doors.

Finally he arrived, right on time, room 223. Trent raised his hand to knock when the door suddenly swung open. Standing before him was a jacked guy with spiked blonde hair in a black tank and grey sweat pants and standing next to him just slightly down the hall was an equally jacked dude with shaggy brown hair in the same outfit.

"hey bro what's up I'm Brody and just over there is Clark"

Brody stuck out his hand but when Trent went to shake it he realised Brody was waiting for a fist bump not a hand shake, Trent awkwardly closed up his hand and bumped Brody's fist. Clark let out a douchey laugh that echoed out the door.

"Come in man, come in"

"You are, the only one comin" Clark sighed

"oh, was I the only one who signed up?"

Trent started to get anxious, guys who looked like this normally bullied him and now he was going to be on his own with them for an hour. Trent made his way into the room, following Brody and Clark.

The athlete dorms were so much bigger than the other rooms he'd been in. There was a large lounge space with a small kitchen, a door to a private bathroom and two bedrooms either side of the lounge.

In the corner of the lounge there was a small fold out chair and table. On the table were 5 green vials and what looked to be an oculus rift stripped down to its basic components.

"so ummm, where do we start with like a workout plan?"

"nah dude, I mean I can totally write you one but this is a bit more of a series of practice experiments" Brody said as he walked over to the small table

"get him hooked up man, I'm gonna grab my laptop with the video"

Trent followed Brody over to the small fold out chair

"its nothing too fancy but our class mates got the actual sports lab, apparently our experiment is pseudo-science"

"what exactly are you guys studying?"

"we are trying to see if active suggestion and nutrients redirection can get people to actively pursue fitness"

"oh damn, I just thought this was like, a workout class" Trent sat down as Brody began setting up the make shift visor. "if you don't mind me asking, what are you guys majoring in?"

"well I'm getting a double major in bio-chemistry and psychology"

"and I'm getting a double major in computer engineering and software development" Clark said as he walked back in carrying an open laptop

Trent's jaw almost dropped to the floor, he'd come here thinking he was going to be made to workout by two dumb jocks who were just going to scribble times on a napkin, but instead he's participating in a proper experiment designed by two people probably leagues smarter than him.

"okay man its real easy, we are gonna hook up an image display for a few minutes and you'll take a shot of this" Clark said as he handed over one of the small green vials.

"errrr, is it safe?"

Clark burst out laughing and Brody couldn't help but crack a smile.

"yeah man, its just a diet supplement you can get offline, fda approved, basically it tells your muscles they want to hold water and your fat cells to burn"

Trent downed the green liquid as Clark flicked the visor down over his eyes. There was a short beep sound before images began to flash on the visor. Flashes of guys working out, of dumbbells and the words you are a jock and you love working out and muscle.

Trent couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry guys this is so corny" He laughed.

The other two began to chuckle as well as the room filled with laughter.

"Look dude, Its the closest thing I could find on YouTube, its about the suggestions" Clark laughed

Suddenly the lights in the room began to flicker and all 3 globes in the lounge burnt out at once.

"what the-" Brody and Clark said in unison, but they were interrupted when sparks began to fly off the oculus. They rushed to try and take it off Trent but were shocked by the electricity. Sparks shout out of the power point in the wall and the two boys watched helplessly as Trent began to convulse in his seat.

Trent let out a painful and stalled out moan as the electricity travelled over the oculus and shocked his temples.

The room was dark was illuminated every few seconds by a shock or spark and the two boys could swear they could see something, something happening to Trent's body. A few more seconds passed before it finally stopped.

Brody and Clark stood there stunned, the sound of beeping could be heard from the kitchen as the oven entered safety mode, but a more concerning noise echoed in the boys ears. The sound of sizzling. Clark carefully walked over to the curtains and opened them, the room filling with light and showing them what had happened to Trent.

He sat in the chair with his head slumped forward, his chin hitting his chest as smoke was rising off the device on his head and all over his body. But what the two saw in the dark wasn't a trick of the light, Trent had indeed gotten bigger. His skinny fat body had expanded, he'd become more lean, his muscles more pronounced and most of the fat on his body had melted away.

Trent let out a moan as a string of drool fell from his mouth

"OH THANK FUCK HE'S ALIVE" Clark cried out with a sigh of relief.

The two rushed over and pulled the device off his head. Trent's eyes instantly responded as he looked up at the two of them.

"wooahh bro, huhu, that was intence" Trent mumbled

"yeah, thank god you're okay" said Brody.

Trent lifted his arm to the side and flexed his bicep and let out a dumb chuckle.

"errr, dude, real quick, what's your name?"

"Trent, duuuhuhuhu, you fuckin forgetful bro?"

Trent seemed okay but something was wrong, even with the short interaction the three of them had, Clark and Brody knew something had happened to him.

"hey Trent, what are you" Brody asked

Trent smirked as he lifted his other arm, completing a double bicep pose.

"a jock, duuuhuhuhu"

Trent stood up and effortlessly pushed passed the two as he started heading towards the door.

"well at least we know his motor functions weren't damaged"

Clark and Brody quickly followed him

"Dude, I really think you should go to the medical centre"

"Nah bro, I got dnd like NOW I gotta boost"

"wait Trent!" Clark yelled out "err, dnd thats an interesting hobbie for a jock, what else are you into"

Trent spun around on the spot with a big smirk on his face

"glad you asked dude, I love three things, gymmin, gamin, dndenin..dndin.....dndining....." Trent's voice trailed off as he tried to finish forming his catchy sentence

"and, what about your major? what are you studying?" Brody asked

"errr huhuhu, like, what's a major?" Trent said turning around to leave again

"FUCK DUDE I THINK WE ACTUALLY FRIED HIS BRAIN" Clark started to panic

"I mean, yeah, but it seems like his core interests and that jock hypno video have combined into a new personality, I dunno if we friend his brain more, re-wrote it"

"DUDE NOW IS NOT THE FUCKING TIME FOR YOUR INTEREST IN THE HUMAN BRAIN WE FUCKING CREATED GYM BRO FRANKENSTIEN"

Trent walked out the door into the crowded hallway. Students were all talking over the top of each other in front of their dorm rooms trying to work out what was going on. The two boys raced out to follow Trent.

"Trent dude wait!, errr, tell me about your dnd character" Brody called out desperately trying to stop him from leaving

Trent continued to power forward through the crowd, pushing through them like water with his new powerful body.

"well bro, I was gonna play some like, lil spell caster dude, but like, i dunno bro, numbers are hard, so like, I think I'm just gonna play, like, some sick fucking, roided out minotaur with a huge axe"

Brody was struggling to keep up with Trent, they both had already lost Clark to the sea of students. Brody grabbed onto the back of Trent's shirt which caused him to stop and turn around.

"woah lil dude, if you wanted some action all you had to do was ask, I got an 8 inch python with your na-"

"WHAT!, ha, oh, no dude, errr, that's" Brody's face turned bright red as he got flustered.

"no? damn too bad, you lil fuckin, science dudes are kinda cute"

Brody was stunned, some how all this muscle and new persona had also added a level of charm to Trent that dug right through to his core. But it was too late to grab his attention again. Trent had already pulled away and gone off out of Brody's sight...

One week had passed since the extreme power surge that had hit the Athlete Scholarship Dorms. There almost wasn't a single incident other than a few blown light bulbs and some damaged electronics....almost. The college had found out about Trent, no matter how hard Brody and Clark tried to hide it. However the two got off lucky. Both the College and the investigation into what happened deemed it was an accident that unfortunately resulted in what was being called "Personality Death". Trent had an entirely healthy body and brain with no signs of damages, but something had happen to completely re-write who and what he was.

The college couldn't let Trent graduate, he couldn't even remember what he had enrolled for, but the college still found a purpose for him. The hid the extreme and sudden body transformation from the investigation and gave Trent a 'job'. His official title was research assistant but he was too stupid for any serious work. His real job was to sit there and be injected with experimental steroids. Forced to grow like some roided out lab rat. Not that he cared, every time Trent put on even an ounce of muscle he'd spend hours in the mirror flexing. He was the biggest guy on campus.

[6 years later]

"okay babe, just hold still"

"aahhh, fuck, it feels so good when it goes in"

"you are so weird, I hate getting injections"

"well huhuhu, when you got a sexy lil piece of meat to do em, its a huge fuckin turn on dude"

Brody stood up from the kitchen table and began to clean up the injection kit, chuckling as he did it.

"Trent, that's so cheesy"

Trent stood up, the sound of wood scraping against the floor filled the room as he effortlessly and accidentally moved the entire dining table.

"will it make me look like Captain America huhuhu?"

"babe...seriously, I think we passed the Captain America stage about 150 pounds ago"

"then hit me with all 6 and make me the hulk" Trent pressed his body against Brody and the table.

Brody was no stranger to 300+ pounds pressing against him "I said no Trent" a slight grin cracked across Brody's face, 'besides, for all I know that one shot will add another 50 pounds, we gotta wait and see."

Trent stood there staring into Brody's eyes with an expression that could only be described as a computer failing to load a basic program 10 times in a row.

"Then jab me with all 6 and give me" Trent stopped to count on his fingers, "120 pounds of muscle" a large smirk crept across his face, proud he was able to do the math in his head.

Brody rolled his eyes and chuckled

"that'd be 300 pounds babe" Brody packed up the rest of the kit and left the kitchen.

Trent went to follow after him, he had hit the gym already today so no other thoughts existed in his mind other than getting attention for how big he was from Brody, but as he walked out the kitchen he caught a glimpse of himself and began flexing in the lounge room mirror, completely forgetting what he had been doing just 2 seconds again...

He was so proud of the roided lab rat he had become...

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #gay transformation

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mirohlayo · 4 months ago

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TO THE MOON AND BACK

( Oscar has always dreamed of giving you the moon, because it's his greatest proof of love. )

warning : cute fluff

note : I'm currently on vacation in Cambodia and I was sick for like 4 days because of the food so this may not be very well written but I hope you'll enjoy it !!

word count : 744

“One day I will go and get the moon for you.” The little Australian, barely 5 years old, was smiling at you, proudly pointing at the natural satellite in the sky. Your big puffy cheeks were now all red, as stars formed in your eyes. “Would you really do that for me, Oscar?” The boy looked at you tenderly before nodding. “Of course, y/n. We are best friends, and this will be my greatest proof of love for you.”

You remember this day like it was yesterday. Little Oscar, still young and innocent, who dreamed of giving you absolutely everything and anything, but especially the moon. This luminous star which represented you quite well indeed. You often met at night, on the roof of your house, to admire the beauty of the starry sky.

It's been a tradition since you were 5 years old, and that tradition hasn't changed at all. You didn't really know why but you loved admiring the greatness size of the world through the stars and constellations. This amazed you a lot when you were little. And it still amazes you.

And 18 years later, here you are together, in the silent night. You were lying on the red carpet that adorned the grass, in each other's arms to warm you up. It was calm and very quiet, you could hear the cicadas in the distance. But the grandiose sky offered you its most beautiful wonders and its greatest secrets.

Oscar played peacefully with your hair. He was trying to be discreet, but he couldn't help but smell the scent of your shampoo that he loved so much, trying to sneak glances to take in your beautiful face. He felt at peace like this, lying with your body in his arms. “When are you going to get the moon for me, Osc?” The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and that's why you yourself were shocked at your initiative in asking it.

You were referring to this kind of promise he made to you 18 years ago, because you have never forgotten it in all this time. As a little girl, this sentence had an impact on you. Seeing your young best friend say these words, like he was going to bring the moon back to your hands, was something simply incredible.

But, here you are 18 years later, still without this star lurking in the sky. You knew it was impossible, and you teased him about it, you knew very well that your best friend could never afford to get the moon. And yet. “I already took it down, y/n.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that sentence. Your eyes met his. And he lost himself in their sublime beauty.

"I have already taken it down to put it in my heart. So that you can finally admire me as you admire it every night. So that you can offer me the beauty of your eyes every time you look at it like you look at me. So that I can enjoy your smile that appears every time you hear about it like you hear about me. I put the moon in my heart so that you can love me as much as you love it. I want to be this star and this light that makes you happy, love." He pauses.

A sweet laugh breaks out in the silence of the night, Oscar's sweet laugh. “So yes, I think it’s silly but I can say it, I love you to the moon and back”. And you stayed there. Moved, speechless and paralyzed. You didn't know what to say or do, as Oscar seemed to savor every second that passed. His smile absolutely wouldn't go away, just like the sound of his laughter.

But he expected a certain answer all the same. He was afraid, afraid of your reaction. He was apprehensive. But it was by seeing the pure love in your eyes and the real smile that you showed him now, that he understood that you didn't need to say more. He had understood in the silence of the night that you certainly loved him more than this damn moon. And that you loved him to the moon and back too.

So deep down, he was proud. Proud to have taken down the moon to let the stars shine in the reflection of your eyes. Proud to have done it to illuminate the most beautiful woman in the world.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #f1 fluff

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msgexymunson · 1 year ago

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Forbidden Fruit

Description: The newest object of your affections happens to be Eddie; your father's closest friend!

A/N: this is just smut personified and I ain't even sorry. Enjoy it with caution, hells saving a mighty fine warm spot for you ;).

Warnings: age gap, Eddie's in his forties, reader implied 20s. Voyeurism, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (wrap the thingy, trust me I'm old)

5k words

Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Delicate fingers are slipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts. You stroke at your soft skin, running in teasing patterns. Your body begins to react to your secret touches, downy hairs starting to stand on end as your skin prickles with sensation. Then your hand drifts lower, lower, until it meets your pubic hair. Massaging your breast with your other hand you try to relax and empty your mind, just focus on the feeling. Not that it works. All you see when you close your eyes is Eddie.

This is wrong. So fucking wrong. He was at least 20 years your senior. Hell, he was one of your father's closest friends. It may as well be forbidden. He probably thinks of you more like a daughter than a lover.

You couldn't help it though. Recently he was just looking so damn fine. You're not sure if it was just him getting better with age, or you growing up and appreciating the man in front of you. Either way, woof.

Your fingers find your clit as you think back to earlier today; the events of which hadn't been much help in quenching your mounting feelings. It had been a lovely day, the sun was beating down and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Eddie and your father had teamed up to do some of the yard work. Eddie was always on hand to help with any manual labour, or to fix things. He was really very good with those hands.

Well, it was a beautiful day, so sunbathing seemed perfectly acceptable behaviour, and not an excuse to be in the yard at all. Nuh uh. You'd headed outside in your skimpy red bikini, book in hand, and laid on a lounger keeping one eye on Eddie.

God, he'd looked particularly good today. His hair was grasped in a messy bun with a shock of grey and white visible through it. His stubble looked a few days old, peppering his chin and sharp jaw. Those eyes of his sparkled, a deep chocolate brown you wanted to dive into. Jeans clung to his muscular thighs, only wearing an old wife beater on top, showing off his tattoos and chiselled arms. There was a brief moment when he'd lifted up his vest to use it to wipe the sweat from his brow. Abs had gleamed in the midday sun, flexing and taunting you on purpose, or at least it had felt that way.

When your father had gone inside to grab them both a beer, Eddie had sauntered over to you and crouched right by your lounger. You had done everything you could to keep your face neutral, even though your head was screaming and flinging its metaphorical hands in the air.

"Hey sweetheart."

The gravel in his voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Hey Mr Munson." You responded, trying to keep your eyes on your book.

"How many times I gotta tell ya? Call me Eddie."

You glanced over and saw a slow grin creeping across his face, as he eyed you up and down. Is he checking me out?

Tearing his eyes away, he spoke again.

"So, where's the little boyfriend today?"

"What? Oh, him. We broke up. He was… selfish" you reminded yourself of all those disappointing encounters, flicking through your mind like a magazine of the mundane.

His grin widened at that.

"Oh, that's such a shame."

He sounded so sincere, but that smile of his was certainly telling a different story. You found yourself looking at the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned. Probably thought he wasn't good enough for me, just like father said.

It was like he'd read your mind.

"He wasn't good enough for you anyway."

"You think?"

He'd leaned into you, as if telling a secret. You could smell him, lingering sweat, aftershave and cigarettes. Drawn to him, you'd sat up and moved a little closer. His words were a whisper in your ear, his hot breath on your neck making your heart beat just a little too fast.

"What you need is a real man."

Mouth falling open, you snapped your head to face him. A quick wink and he was back on his feet, smiling at your father who had just returned from the kitchen. He had walked off without a glance back.

You press your clit harder at the memory of his words, your other hand snaking its way into your top to tease at your hardened nipple. A real man.

Was he talking about himself? Or had he just been teasing you for your taste in boys? Either way, his words had made you wet, your thighs clinging together in supplication.

Fuck it. If he was on your mind you may as well lean into it. Your thoughts wandered, making up scenarios in your head, thinking of those thick fingers replacing yours. Your speed on your clit doubles, thighs squeezing together. It still wasn't enough. There wasn't enough pressure.

Pulling your hand away in a huff, your eyes land on a cushion on your bed. Hmm, now that just might do.

Clambering to your bare knees, you straddle it, positioning the seam to sit just where you needed it.

Now, this was better. You could almost imagine him underneath you as you humped at his impressive length. You assume he had a huge cock. Well, he did in your fantasies anyway. Pulling your top off and away, you tease at your sensitive nipples, one hand keeping the cushion in place.

So close, you were so close. The warm feeling was pooling in your belly, your clit humming with desire. Scrunching your eyes shut and whimpering, a particularly good rub had you moaning out "Eddie!"

Unfortunately, you had failed to hear the approaching footsteps.

"Yeah sweetheart?"

Frozen, you can only watch in abject horror as your bedroom door swings open and the object of your fantasies is standing in the door frame.

"Oh shit, I thought- did you just say my name?" He seems split between looking away and getting an eyeful.

Grasping the bed sheet you quickly cover up your bare chest, cheeks burning scarlet.

"Sorry." He adds, looking you up and down one last time, and finally swings the door shut.

Well that's it, now I need to move to a different state. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Hey, honey, come hear a sec!" Your mother's voice, ringing up the stairs. Trying to get the blood to diffuse from your cheeks with sheer force of will, you hastily scramble to put your top back on.

"Coming!" You shout back. Well, you nearly had. So fucking close.

Making your way downstairs past the bathroom you see your parents arm in arm, Eddie spread out on one of the bar stools in the kitchen. Practically feeling his grin from here, you focus on your parents.

"We're going out to dinner hon. Mr Munson here, well he was going to have a look at the cable. I can't get the damn thing to work. Sure you don't mind Eddie? Ain't you got somewhere else to be?" Your father looks towards Eddie with his question.

"Nope. Completely free. I'm sure I can fix it."

"Thanks buddy, you're a lifesaver. Hon, can you look after him? Make sure to give Mr Munson anything he needs."

Cheeks flaring again with heat, you mumble out your agreement.

"Thanks sweetie!" Your mother adds, planting a peck on your cheek. Then, they leave. It's just you and Eddie.

He begins to walk towards you. The walls suddenly seem too close, your skin itchy, hairs standing on end. He stops in front of you, too close for comfort. A rough hand reaches to you and you flinch. He quickly pulls it away.

"Well, better fix the cable." He smiles at you, and turns on his heel to the TV room, leaving you staring at his retreating ass as he leaves.

Maybe he's not going to mention it?

The thought seems too good to be true. You turn to leave, back the way you came, but a strange force is pulling at your gut. Pretty soon you're standing in the door frame of the TV room, staring at Eddie's ass as he bends to look at the cable box.

Fuck, that perfect ass.

He must have changed from earlier. Maybe he'd had a shower? He certainly smelled good. Staring at his back you notice his hair looked damp.

OK, so, ignore what happened. Eddie seemed to be. Act natural. Be a good host.

"Eddie, do you want a beer?"

He doesn't bother looking back, but you hear his deep voice say, "sure thing sweetheart."

Making your way back to the kitchen, you grab a beer for him and one for yourself, to steady your nerves.

Placing it on the coffee table, you let him know it's behind him, as you swig your own.

"Could you come down here sweetheart? I need a hand."

You fall to your knees beside him.

"Show me your hands?"

Confused, you hold your palms up.

"Perfect, tiny hands. Here." And he grasps one, swallowing it up in his large palm. The skin on skin contact is a shock to your system.

He pulls your arm gently.

"There's a cable right there, can you reach that?"

Sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth, you extend your arm, reaching into the gap he couldn't quite hit.

"Got it."

"That's it. Good girl." You suck in a sudden breath at his words, warmth simmering in your core. Eddie doesn't seem to notice.

He's adjusting some other cable, moving the network box to a better position as you stare at the veins in his neck.

"So, did you finish?"

"Huh?" Confusion floods your face as you scrunch your eyes at his words.

"Earlier, when I walked in. Did you finish?"

Your mouth hangs open. He mentioned it so nonchalantly, not even gaining eye contact. You're so shocked that you answer him without thinking about it.

"N-no."

"Shame."

What sort of alternative reality is this?

"OK, can you feel my hand? Give me that cable."

You pass it to him wordlessly, fingers brushing his ever so slightly.

"There. Should be fine now. Try the remote."

Turning the TV on, it does indeed work. You switch it off as Eddie sits back on his heels.

"It just wasn't wired correctly. Easy mistake to make. So, you need a hand?"

"Huh?" You sound out doltishly as he swigs his beer.

"Seemed like you could do with some help earlier is all."

Swallowing hard at his words, you feel your thighs clench and your heart race.

"Eddie, what are you saying, exactly?" Words spilling out a lot calmer than you felt.

"All I'm saying is, you looked like you could use some help. I reckon I could help you out. A lot more than a cushion, anyway." He says, a slow smile spreading over his face making your knees want to melt.

You stare and stare, momentarily lost for words.

"Come on sweetheart, there's a reason why you were moaning my name. We need to get whatever this is out of our system. "

You will your legs to move, to flee. They don't. They have their own agenda it seems, taking a shaky step towards him, and another. He's still kneeling on the floor, a slight smirk pulling at his face as if he has all the time in the world.

Your knees do buckle then, under the weight of his words, as you mirror his position. There's a slight gap between you, but you're closer than you think you ever have been. The air between you seems to hum with desire, an electric current buzzing back and forth.

Reaching out with hesitant fingers, you finally close the distance, resting your hand softly on his knee.

"I'm- I'm sorry that I, erm, said your name, it's so damn embarrassing-"

"Don't be sorry," he responds, his giant hand coming to rest over yours sending your pulse into overdrive, "that was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Really?" You can't help the disbelief dripping all over your tone.

"You're kidding right? I've been fuckin' hard for the last hour, I'm sure it's not healthy."

You giggle into your hand at his confession and move to look down, but his hand is on your jaw then, pulling your chin up.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, you know. We can just forget all this and I'll leave."

His stare is firm and sincere, but there's an undercurrent of need behind those eyes, one that's making the pulse between your legs hammer out a tattoo on your insides.

Before it even registers in your head, you're the one pushing toward him, drawn in by that stare. Your lips are crushing against his when you realise you had taken the leap and kissed him. Eddie's hand presses into the small of your back, pushing you bodily against him, the other snaking into your hair. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss his tongue begins to slide against yours. Never had a kiss felt so good, so sordid. You wrap your arms around his middle to steady yourself as he explores your mouth greedily.

A slam of a car door snaps you back to reality; pushing your body off him hurriedly you look around with wild eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart, it's OK. It's not them, it's too early for that."

You stop and listen, and realise he's right.

"Sorry."

"Hey, it's OK." He smiles, flooding your tummy with warmth.

"You wanna go and get comfortable, sweets? We can, well, just this once."

You nod and stand up wordlessly, leading him to your bedroom. Your pace is slow and measured as you walk up the stairs, belying the running commentary in your head.

Oh fuck, I can't believe this is happening. This is Mr Munson for fucks sake. Dad would absolutely freak. Oh fuck.

As you're closing the door, he's kicking his shoes off and sitting up on your bed. His rough demeanour and chiselled physique look so out of place, juxtaposed by the sweet pink bedclothes.

"Come here sweetheart, right here." He says, patting his lap. You move over to him, trying to work out exactly where he wants you.

"Knees either side, come on baby, I know you know how to straddle." His smile is dipped in sin, biting his lower lip slightly and flashing his teeth. You take a shaky breath and mount him, your thin sleep shorts barely covering your expectant pussy.

"Can you, um, take your jeans off?" You ask hesitantly, "I wanna feel you."

"Whatever you want baby, I'm here to help."

You sit awkwardly to one side as he wiggles his jeans off those perfect hips, giving you a teasing sliver of his lower abdomen to gawp at before he's gripping your hips forcefully and pushing your core down against his solid bulge.

"Hmm, nearly perfect," he says, giving you an appraising look.

"What's not right?" You feel your cheeks blush, waiting for him to point out some flaws you have.

"Well, I'm sure when I walked in earlier with you in this position you were topless."

An impossible amount of blood flushes your face, chest, neck. Eddie's thumbs trace calming circles into the flesh of your hips, catching the hem of your top and slipping just beneath.

Lifting your top up hesitantly, you move your arms up and away, discarding the clothing on the floor of your room.

Eddie's eyes are fixated on your nude breasts, letting out a slow breath. He holds your hips harder, fingers bruising into you.

"There. Perfect. You are perfect sweetheart. Such a good girl for me."

It's deeply pathetic, the noise that escapes your lips at his praise, but it serves to break the spell Eddie is under and forces him to look at your rosy cheeks and pouting lips.

"Fuck, you like that sweetheart?" He asks, large hands clinging to your hips, starting to grind you back and forth. His breathing is laboured, as if he's trying to hold himself together.

"Yeah." You say back, voice small, hiding under his studious gaze.

"Don't go all shy on me now baby. This good, yeah?"

You nod, mewling at the sensation. He's rock hard, and just the feel of his solid dick rubbing back and forth, hitting your swollen clit with each pass has your head spinning. Just two layers, two layers of flimsy fabric lay between him and you. Between him entering you.

"Talk to me sweetheart. What do you need?"

His eyes are searching yours, so eager to make you happy.

"Please, please play with my nipples."

A rough hum rumbles from his throat, hands creeping up to your chest.

"So polite. Whatever you need sweetheart."

Taking over grinding over his member, you feel your skin thrumming, heat bubbling in your gut as his hands begin to trace over your curves. His thumbs graze the underside of your tits with confident movements. Expecting him to start pinching at your nipples, it takes you entirely by surprise when he leans forward and takes one in his mouth, sucking hard.

Whimpering quietly, you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to be quiet. It's like Eddie can read your fucking mind. Unlatching from your nipple, he grabs your chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"I told you. Don't be shy. It's just you and me here. I want to hear you. Every whimper, every fucking moan. I'm committing this to memory, so make it a good one."

A watery grin unfurls over your face, eyes tearing up unexpectedly.

"OK Eddie."

"Good fucking girl."

"Oh God-"

Before you're done moaning at his words, his lips are immersing your nipple again, wet and warm and rough; as he pinches the other with hardened skin fingertips. A thick tongue darts out, flicking back and forth over the hardened nub.

"Oh Eddie, oh fuck!" Your moans are loud and unashamed, your hips frantically humping over his turgid cock, clit swollen, nearing on sore.

His breath diffuses over the sensitive skin of your breast.

"See that's it baby, I know, I know. Keep going, use me."

Chasing your release your movements become almost violent, hands grasping onto his wavy locks and tugging hard. He groans at that, almost a growl. Teeth scraping your aching nipple, he unlatches with a wet pop and instead bites into the joining spot between your neck and shoulder harder than anyone had done before. The act was bordering on feral. An animalistic gesture, sucking on your flesh as if he was sucking the orgasm out of you.

It was working. The low simmering in your gut had bubbled over, threatening to pull you under into the deep depths of pleasure. You let it, screaming out his name as you lost breath, quickly losing yourself in the gaping depths of your release.

Slowing your frantic rocking movements, you finally slow to a halt.

"Feel better sweetheart?"

You hum, fingers tracing over the muscles of his toned arms. Your pussy hasn't gotten the message however, clenching around nothing. Your walls are pulsing, wanting to clench onto something, anything.

"Yeah I'm good."

"Don't lie to me."

Gasping at his hard words, you look into his eyes.

"If you're done I'll leave-"

"No!" You shout, gripping him harshly,

fingernails embedding into his skin. This can't be over, not yet.

"See?" He laughs, almost mocking you, "if you need more, say so. I want to help you. What do you need?"

"I-" fuck why is this so difficult? "I need, I need something inside me."

"See? Was that so hard? You want my fingers baby? I'll make you come, as many times as you need."

You nod enthusiastically, slipping off his lap. He turns you to the side suddenly so your legs are draped over his. Firm, smooth strokes rub up, up, up your thighs making you quiver.

"Take these shorts off. I need to see that pretty pussy of yours."

Wiggling out of them, they land on the floor in a heap.

"Fuck. Spread your legs a little."

It isn't in you not to comply. Your knees fall open, entirely exposed.

"Well, look at you. Fucking perfect." A rough hand slots between your legs, two fingers rubbing the length of your pussy.

Leaning back on your hands, your back arches into his touch, hips moving upwards to meet each stroke.

"You really want this? You want me to fuck you with my fingers?" His movements are tantalising and slow. Your body begs for more, more.

Nodding at him, you soon see it's not enough.

"Use your words sweetheart." Fingers whisper across forbidden skin, circling around but never touching your clit.

"Oh God please, please I need you, please fill me up!" All modesty forgotten.

"Fuck, yeah that's it, hmm" you feel his fingers swipe your wet lips, about to go deeper. Leaning forward, he angles his head towards your cunt, and spits, hard.

Holy fucking fuck.

That act had you clenching all over again, rocking into nothing.

"Oh she likes that! Dirty girl."

He smiles his approval and gathers your combined wetness, two fingers diving deep inside you. It's aggressive and rough and entirely what you've been craving.

"This what you wanted baby? My fingers filling you up? Fucking into your cunt?"

His words are filthy, switching something inside your head you weren't aware of until just now.

"Yeah, fuck please, stretch me out, I fucking need you baby, please please please!"

Your tiny hands are gripping onto him, desperately seeking him, digging into skin and flesh.

"Oh you are so hot. Keep begging, I like it." His salacious grin pours over his features, fingers working you roughly, nestling into a spot inside that had your toes curling. Your breathing is heavy and ragged, as his other hand slaps harshly against your thigh.

"I said beg."

His ministrations start to slow.

"No, don't stop! Please, oh fuck please, I need to fucking come Eddie!" Your eyes seeking his with a desperate gleam, toying with your features.

"Yeah, that's it sweetheart, fuck," and his hand lands a hard smack against the side of your ass making you shriek.

"You're a dirty girl, aren't you?" His fingers continue, setting a brutal pace, each stroke reaching your g spot pathetically easily.

"Yeah, oh yes, for you I am."

A thick tongue runs up the side of your neck, pushing his fingers harder, deeper.

"Oh Eddie I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come, don't stop!"

"Not stopping, not even if you paid me. Come for me sweetheart."

Your hips betray you, rubbing against his fingers as hard as they can, desperately seeking your second release.

They don't have long to look. Suddenly it bursts around you, popping in your head like a firecracker of feeling, pulsing out of you in waves. Your fingers wind into his hair once again as your orgasm floods your system, hands almost frightened of being swept away.

You knew he was good with his hands but fuck, his words were something else.

"Oh my God that was incredible." You stutter out, legs still trembling.

"I aim to please. You good now baby?" His fingers whispering over your arm, catching your nerves, making quivers run over and over you.

If I'm good, he's gonna leave, and that will be it. Fuck, just don't want it to be over.

"No. I need you to fuck me. Just this once. Please. I- I need you to cum inside me."

"Shit sweetheart, you want my fuckin' cock? How could I refuse such a sweet good girl."

Laying you down against your many pillows, he stands, ridding himself of his shirt and pants.

Oh fuck, just look at his cock.

It's swollen, throbbing against his slickened pubic hair, wetted by your own juices. Licking your lips impulsively, you spread your legs wide, wanting to guide his hips between yours.

"Fuck that's a pretty dick. So fucking big."

He looks at you, quirking an eyebrow.

Oh fuck you just said that out loud.

"Yeah? You want it? You want me?"

He's smiling, stroking at his throbbing length, making an emotion akin to jealousness bloom in your chest.

"I need you Eddie."

He climbs between your thighs again, letting another glob of spit fly from those perfect lips of his.

"Oh!" You moan eagerly, writhing beneath him.

"You are perfect, aren't you? Fucking filthy and ready for me." The head of his swollen member nudges your soft opening.

"I'm on birth control, please just fill me up."

"Oh fuck you're gonna make me bust if you keep on like that." The words are admonishing, but he sounds impressed.

His weight dips onto the mattress between your legs, making it sink dramatically. You grab his relatively narrow hips, your slender fingers forcing his body between yours. You need him inside you, now.

The fat, leaking head of his cock rubs against your intumescent lips.

"Fuck me Eddie, I need you, please fuck me!" You blabber, fingers flexing hard against his hard muscles.

The mushroom head of his turgid cock pushes against your sodden opening. It breaches you then, forcing its way into your soaking lips.

Pushing harder and harder into your deepest depths, you whimper, walls quivering around his fat length.

"Eddie, oh God Eddie!" Your moans are unrestrained and throaty, him rubbing against the spot that makes you wobble inside.

"You wanna come again? So fucking greedy sweetheart." You expect those words to have bite to them, but he's grinning, forehead nearly touching yours as he hikes your legs around his middle.

You hump at him recklessly, hips thrusting against his waist as hard as you can.

"Oh my fucking God, fuck!!"

You release hard, wetness squirting over Eddie's imposing length as you moan hard and loud.

"Hey honey, we're home!"

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

Your eyes flick wildly to Eddie. It doesn't help that he seems amused, chuckling a silent laugh into your skin.

"I've, I've gone to bed, see you in the morning!" You cry out desperately, hoping to heaven, or hell, that they listen.

"Eddie fix the cable?" You hear your mom call out up the stairway.

"Yeah he's, he's really good with his hands!" You shout back, Eddie's body shaking with silent laughter over you, the arms caging your head trembling with barely contained amusement.

"Great news, night honey!"

You grip Eddie's shoulders as hard as you can as you listen for the minute changes in air. There it is, mother and father both going to bed.

"Fuck that was close." You huff, releasing your titanesque grip on his shoulders.

"But I'm not done sweetheart."

He thrusts hard and deep against you, his impressive member rubbing against that sweet spot yet again.

"Eddie, you can't, fuck-"

"Oh I can. You just need to shut up." He grins quietly, holding your body close to his.

"Oh Eddie, oh-"

"Shhh, fuck sweetheart, shut the fuck up." He whispers urgently into the skin of your neck. Your mouth forms a perfect 'o', wiggling against him ardently.

He releases his cum into you with a hard, shuddering thrust, throbbing and throbbing out of him. It pumps inside you, pushing you to the edge of coming yet again.

Eddie knows.

Grinning wickedly, he latches his teeth to your nipple again and sucks hard. Moments later you feel your release explode from your core, dampening your bed sheets in the process.

Thrumming against him, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, you manage to coax your breathing to a normal level.

"I hope that's everything you wanted sweetheart, 'cause it aint happening again."

Before you can protest, Eddie is leaving the warmth between your thighs and aiming for the window, so no one suspects what just happened between you two. A few sure movements and he disappears, however reluctantly, into the night. Leaving you huffing, and panting, and wanting.

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiethefreakkmunson @munson-blurbs @roanniom @eddiemunsonfuxks @eddiesprincess86 @corrodedhawkins @eddiethefreakkmunson @indouloureux @icallhimjoey

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