#like because she was at his mercy and that was how he learned what it was to GRANT mercy
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wow they sure gave us one hell of a reversal to this huh
i saw ppl saying they don't like how she gets on her knees for him but honestly that is just such a misread of this moment to me and i am actually so obsessed with it. i get why upon first glance it could seem submissive and weird because of the power dynamic that existed between them in inquisition and the fact that he is a god, and i agree that it would have been weird any other time, but the context in general and the nature of their relationship in this moment is so different from the one they shared 8 years ago, it has been flipped completely on his head.
he had to kneel down to her level in trespasser to bring balance to their dynamic as he revealed the extent of the power differential and the guilt he carried for enabling it. he had complete power over her in that moment, he had lured her there in the first place, he had just turned someone to stone in front of her eyes, he outmatched her in terms of knowledge, power, age, understanding, magic ability. he was the reason for the anchor that was debilitating her and he was the only one who could stop it from killing her. kneeling to meet her on the ground where she writhed in the pain that he caused her brought them as back into balance as possible for just a moment. he had to get down on his knees to kiss her one last time as solas, before standing up and walking away to be fen'harel.
this is truly the inverse of that. we have never seen him like this. we have never seen him bent over like this when his name literally means to "stand tall". and it is not lavellan who gets him to this state in the first place, but mythal as she releases him from a burden he has carried for thousands of years.
he is absolutely powerless in this moment. he is not fen'harel or a god. he did not lure these people here to set a trap for them. he is not at all in control of this situation. if anything, he is the one trapped and being forced to face something he could not bring himself to face for thousands and thousands of years; mythal. she is the one in power here, and though her words are kind and her intention to free him is noble, notice that she does not make any sort of attempt to get onto his level, to look him in the eye. she looks down upon him as she releases him, and then she disappears.
i know a lot of people are also upset at some of the parallels drawn between lavellan and mythal, but honestly i think this moment puts all of them to rest. they are not parallel but opposite, and their dynamic with solas is completely different. while mythal puts him in this almost disturbingly submissive state that is so at odds with what we have seen of him ever, she is the god here, unapologetically, and him the man at her mercy. by contrast, lavellan sees his agony and does not hesitate to get on her knees before him. not in any act that implies any sort of submission or supplication, or to encourage any sort of mortal x god power dynamic, but so that she can see his face and look him in the eye as she reminds him of her love for him. she equalizes herself before him in his moment of powerlessness and vulnerability the same way he did when he knelt to kiss her goodbye as he took the anchor in trespasser.
and it is lavellan addressing him this way and her words that give him the strength to stand up tall again. it is also the final push to abandon his goal, as she tells him the only thing that is inevitable is their love.
he tells her in the unsent love letter we get in the codex how badly he wanted to be with her as just solas. we learn from his memories and their conversation earlier in this scene that mythal made him into fen'harel. the body language in this scene is the perfect visual representation of that dynamic. her kneeling to look at him is such a powerful act of love and support in a moment where he was so painfully vulnerable, and it reflects his own willingness to kneel for her eight years earlier as she found herself in a similar state. he is at her mercy, with his fate lying in her hands. kneeling before him and looking into his eyes rights the balance between them that was just so disturbingly thrown off by mythal. it is reciprocal rather than submissive. it says, "you are hurting, but i am with you". it reminds him of who he is, allows him to stand tall.
genuinely 10/10 i will never be over this
no because actually i donât think we talk enough about how solas gets on his knees in the trespasser finale with a romanced lavellan. his name literally means pride. he EMBODIES pride. but his name also literally means âto stand tallâ. HIS NAME MEANS TO STAND TALL. god of rebellion. and he is on his knees cradling her face and telling her heâs sorry. i have to go walk into traffic
#I DIDNT EVEN MEAN TO WRITE AN ESSAY ON THIS IT JUST CAME OUT OF ME I CANT STOP#solavellan#solas#mine.txt#veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#datv spoilers#dragon age veilguard spoilers#dav spoilers
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If youâre taking writing prompts consider-
Raphael reacting to Tav/Durge confessing theyâre in love with him
I made it a Durge because I haven't written a lot of Durge stuff (fun fact: the first longer fic I ever wrote was with a Durge warlock that had Raph as a patron, but I never released it). Raph is being a bit of a manipulative dick in this one, but what's new. Also, I'm slow as fuck at replying to my asks (especially prompts)
Love
Clack clack clack clackâŚclack clack clack clackâŚclack clack clack clack.
His office was deadly quiet except for the sound of his claws tapping on the hard mahogany of his desk, a dangerous rhythm that she knew immediately what meant the second she heard it. The rhythm echoed her heartbeat as she waited for her patron to say something. She was in trouble.
He was leaning against his desk, looking at her and keeping her in suspense. A cruel smile stretched over his face, as he saw how she was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She had defeated monsters, mindflayers, godsâŚeven the biggest monster of them all, her father. Still, nothing made her stomach churn more than the thought of Raphaelâs wrath.
The feeling humiliated her as much as it thrilled her and drew her closer to him. She had been a god in her own right with all the lives she took under Bhaal and the cult she had led in his name, but this mere cambion brought her to her knees.
She was like a moth to his fiery flames. Everything about him excited her: his cruelness, his gracious mercy at times, his power plays. He felt like home. There was something safe and known in that cruelty that drew her closer. It was something she understood the rules of.
Click clackâŚ
âI have always questioned your loyalty,â he finally said and moved his claws up to his face to look at them as he spoke. âIt is no secret that I am prone to play favorites, but perhaps I made a mistake when I took you inâŚâ
His yellow eyes looked up at her. His comment hit her like a punch to the gut and she knew as well as him that that was the intended effect. She hated the feeling of disappointing him. She hated that she felt that way about it even more. She cleared her throat.
âWhat is this about?â she asked quietly.
That was the wrong question. She could see it from the way his tail flicked in irritation. She had taught herself every one of his physical cues. They were subtle sometimes, but easier to read in this form. The man had total control over his body, but the devil was just a tad less composed.
âWhat is this about?â he repeated his question in a smooth, even tone. âMany things, my dear.â
That was another thing she had learned: it was never just one thing. Raphael held grudges. He archived every little mistake in his head in neat files, so he could throw them in your face when you stepped out of line.
âYou came crawling to me after your father spat you out, after defying me at every turn and without a crown for me. You begged me to take you in, and yet I question your devotion to my cause. You owe me a grand debt when it comes to loyalty. A debt you have not yet paid back with your services, and one that I now question if you will ever pay back if you keep associating yourself with the wrong people.â
She had wanted to give him the Crown of Karsus. She had liked him even back then. Her companions had fought her every step of the way, and with her dealing with Bhaal, she had too much on her plate to fight them on it.
âIt wasnât my choice, Raphael,â she pleaded. âYou knowââ
âYes, yes,â he cut her off impatiently with a wave of his clawed hand. âI have heard all your endless excusesâŚand I graciously forgave you, didnât I? You would have been a bloody stain on my carpet long ago if I had not. What I cannot forgive is disloyalty.â
âRaphael, please,â she pleaded quietly. âJust tell me what I have done. Iâll make it right.â
Another flick of his tail. His nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed, but he quickly schooled his features back into one of indifference.
âWhat were you doing in Waterdeep?â he asked slowly, each word as heavy as a brick.
That was what all of this was about. She had visited Gale. Gale who had been the very reason that the Crown of Karsus did not go to Raphael. Gale and her had started out as friends, but it evolved to something more along the way. It did not work out. Gale was too perfect, too functional for her. She broke his heart, and she would be lying if she said that this fact wasnât taken into consideration when she gave up on trying to give to the Crown of Karsus to Raphael.
âI was just visiting,â she admitted. âNothing more.â
âJust visiting,â he repeated with a hint of venom in his voice. âJust visiting an old flame that snubbed your patron of what was rightfully his, is that right? Is he well, our dear Gale? Does his new unburdened life suit him?â
âWe are friendsââ
âFriends,â Raphael said with a cruel laugh. âHow awfully sentimental of you, dear. How soft you have become. I remember a ruthless woman who murdered her way through Baldurâs Gate. That woman, I could have used. It seems that your father has stripped you of everything that once made you interesting.â
That comment made her furious. It made her blood boil, but then why was she on the verge of crying instead? Why did she find herself pleading instead of yelling?
âGale and I have been through hell and back,â she said. âIt doesnât change my loyalties for you. Please, Raphael.â
âI will NOT be made to look a fool!!â he roared with a sudden fire in his eyes.
The sound boomed through his office. She flinched. His tail flicked from side to side now. He looked her up and down. It seemed to please him how she was turning pale at his words and tearing up. He returned to his calm and collected demeanor as quickly as he got angry.
âWhy are you crying?â he asked without a shred of sympathy in the question.
She tried to stop, but she couldnât. She just wanted him to understand that she was devoted to him, and that this was all a mistake. She had not meant to cross him or make him angry, but merely to visit an old friend. His nails started tapping on the table again as he waited for her to speak.
âCanât youâ canât you see that Iâm only loyal to you?â she sobbed. Clack, clack⌠âI made a contract with you because I wanted to work for you. Iâm yours, and only yours.â Clack, clack, clack. âCanât you see how I only want to please you? How much I love you?â
Clack.
He froze for a moment at the oddly heartfelt confession that escaped her lips. She had not meant for that to come out, but he was great at pressuring her into saying things she didnât want to admit. It was a humiliating confession. She hated being so vulnerable and weak. She wished that she could stuff the words right back down her throat. He wasnât supposed to know.
A smile spread over his otherwise frozen face. He looked her up and down and let out a small huff of laughter. He looked like a man who had just been handed the perfect weapon. His hand left the table and beckoned her closer with a finger.
She walked over to him, unable to look him in the eye. He tilted her head up with a claw under her chin. He towered over her in that form.
âLook at me,â he ordered.
She looked into his yellow eyes. He was smiling at her.
âSay it again.â
âI love you,â she repeated.
The humiliation in the confession was more apparent this time, and he was eating it up like it was the best meal he had had in centuries. He laughed her straight in the face.
âOh, dear,â he said with a chuckle. âA creature of habit, arenât you? You poor girlâŚâ
She swallowed hard. She should have just shut up. His thumb ran over her jaw and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch set her aflame, despite the excruciating embarrassment she was feeling.
âDo I remind you of your dear old papa?â he asked, still smiling like the cat that got the cream. âIs that what this is about? It is always the fathers, isnât it? Still searching for the approval of a cruel master, even now. Perhaps you havenât changed at all, my dearâŚâ
She kept quiet. He leaned closer as if sharing a secret. She could smell wine and tobacco on his breath. His thumb rubbed circles on her jaw.
âTell me,â he whispered to her. âWhere did your dear Gale fit into this picture? Iâm awfully curious.â
Her eyes flicked to his lips for only a second, but he didnât miss it by the way his smile widened.
There was only one acceptable answer and she prayed that she would choose the right one. She shrugged.
âHe didnât,â she said quietly.
That was the right answer from the way his smile widened.
âNo, I would imagine not,â he said. âTooâŚboringâŚwasnât he? He was not enough of a challenge for you, so you discarded him.â
There was a hint of guilt in her eyes at his words. He tutted gently and caressed her cheek.
âWho could blame you?â he cooed. âPeople like us wonât concern ourselves with boredom. You were right in choosing to focus on greater things. Gale was easy. Pleasing him was easy. He would not make you fight for it like I will.â
That promise made a shiver go through her. Raphael grabbed her arm and tugged her even closer, until she was standing between his legs with her chest pressed against his. His hand came to rest on her hip. He pressed his forehead against her, his nose touching hers. He was tantalizingly close.
âYou are mine then, arenât you?â he asked. âOnly mine.â
She nodded. He gave a dangerous smile.
âYou want to please me,â he said. âTo make me happyâŚâ
Another nod.
âYou love and adore me.â
Another nod. His lips were so close she could almost taste them. His thumb was rubbing circles into her hip. His tail was flicking side to side, but not in rage. It was more like a cat that is ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey that it had been sneaking up on for a while.
âYou will write a letter to Gale Dekarios and say that you are unavailable for any future visits,â he whispered against her lips. âThat you have already done plenty for him and that you never want to see him again.â
His lips brushed lightly against hers before he pulled away, stealing her breath. She chased his lips, but he only smiled and pulled away further. She knew she had to earn it.
âGo. You wouldnât want to disappoint me, would you?â he said with a smile and let go of her.
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I love the Vengeance saga smâŚ.
so here are my thoughts
NOT SORRY FOR LOVING YOU:
This was SO pretty. Wangui has such a beautiful voice and she added so much depth to the character. But i still HATE Calypso. They could never make me like you Calypso. I liked How Jorge really made her seem like she just never learned how it was wrong to expect love in return regardless of circumstance. Especially the part âWas cast away when I was young
Alone for a hundred years
I had no friends but the sky and sun
So when you washed ashore
I thought for sure that you were my dream come trueâ
It really did a good job at showing she never learned because she never got a chance to learn these things.
DANGEROUS:
HECK YES HERMES!!! He was so so iconic and I loved how we was just partying while Ody was fighting for his life. My favorite part was defined the Wing Bag. Especially the winions. The melodies just seemed so much darker and serious then the playful tone of Keep Your Friends Close. I also loved the Athena reference at the end. I honestly hope Odysseus doesnât learn it was her, it would make it so much more tragic.
CHARYBDIS:
This was the song I was looking forward to the most and I was not let down! The musical storytelling was so so good! Everything about it that I imagined is practically exactly what was on the animatic. Also extra points to part of it being done by @anniflamma (iâm not even gonna try to lie, Anni is my favorite Epic Animator) I LOVED the final verse. It was so pretty and Jorge portrayed the Longing of Odysseus SO WELL. I also adored the expectation diversion leading intoâŚ
GET IN THE WATER:
First off the Intrumentals starting the song were BEAUTIFUL!!! The piano was so striking and i loved it! Steven Rodriguez is genuinely PERFECT for Poseidon. Iâm not gonna lie Poseidon is my favorite Greek God(Blame PJO) and Ruthlessness is actually the song that got me into EPIC. So it was amazing to hear him again. My Blood ran cold during the âRuthlessness⌠Is Mercy Upon⌠Ourselvesâ part and I loved the overlapping vocals of the âDieâ. And because itâs a bossfight it just has to end with making me cry. The âspiritsâ of Odysseusâs comrades was so pretty and I think it was my favorite(besides love in paradise ofc) of the âHeartbreaking remembering comradesâ moments.
600 STRIKE!!!
1st of holy shit the Wind bag is such a cool Bossfight instrumental. It was so freaking cool(I love all the Wind parts in EPIC). I was a little disappointed by the Visuals, no disrespect to the artist at all! But i just thought the 3d was a little jarring. I truthfully think it would have been a little better if it was 2d. Enough of visual art talk though MUSICAL art talk time! I LOVED the chanting throughout the first-half. It was such a great(I think) wrap up to the Crews story and it also sounded awesome.
600 STRIKE: PART 2(that part)
Steven Rodriguezâs voice is really hot. I just had to get that out of the way. But in all seriousness this is my favorite moment of the Saga. I donât think 600 strike was my favorite song, that title goes to Get in the Water, but 600 strike is a close 2nd solely based on the epicness of this moment. The way my heart just stopped when Odysseus said âExactlyâ was just something Iâll never get over. Also Iâm weird and i loved hearing Poseidon in pain.(I like my fav. characters to suffer). Also the overlapping vocals(can i even call poseidonâs part vocals itâs just him screaming in pain) was PHENOMENAL! I especially loved the 2nd âOOoohhhhâ I saw someone say that Poseidon likely regenerated around the trident before it was pulled out and thatâs engraved in my brain now.
And hot Take.
I think that Poseidon was actually ASKING Odysseus how he sleeps at night. During Monster Ody says âIs he scared that heâs doing something wrongâ and I actually think Ody was right. Poseidonâs âI canâtâ during Get In The Water seems genuine. I donât know if it was because He literally couldnât forgive Ody because of what Ody did, or if Heâs is actually just trying to âkeep us in check so we respect him, and now no one dares piss him offâ. This may just be me over-analyzing/trying to sympathize my fav character but does Poseidon actually wonder if heâs doing something wrong.
And Finally, NEXT TO MY WIFE was actually so FRAKING cold. If someone said that to me iâd be devastated.
Ultimately the Vengeance saga was probably my 2nd favorite saga(after wisdom i just adore god games) Jorge did an AMAZING job with it and Iâm so excited to see how much more a monster rawr rawr rawr Ody becomes.
I hope you enjoy my thoughts (:
#epic the vengeance saga#epic the musical#odysseus#poseidon#calypso#hermes#i am the monster rawr rawr rawr#get in the water#600 strike#charybdis#dangerous#not sorry for loving you#jorge rivera herrans#I loved the vengeance saga so much#it just tickles my brain#i love watching my comfort characters be deprived of comfort#Can you tell my favorite part was Poseidon crying in pain (:#make them suffer#suffer sea boi#steven rodriguez
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they almost had ro on ds9! i think there was some issue with her actress, so instead they created kira
okay that is so cool actually...i'm just wondering like in this alternate version would odo still have fallen for this character? and somehow i just can't see it. and kiraodo means SO MUCH. to me. so maybe it's better that it was like this - kind of equal but opposite energy of the tom paris/nick locarno sitch
#liz answers asks#chantrykomori#star trek blogging#ds9 lb#tng lb#kinda#i just feel like the way kira and odo met sets up SO much of their dynamic............#like because she was at his mercy and that was how he learned what it was to GRANT mercy#and i know because of canon logistics ro couldn't have been at the station at that time#there's not 1:1 clones anyway#kira is way more brash and extroverted and outspoken. she smiles when she's angry and all of her emotions are Loud#ro is v withdrawn and quiet even when she IS angry + she's not religious#like the occupation forged kira into something stronger where ro was hurt by it in a way that almost ground her down#so like i still think they could have gotten away with a cameo. they could have been fun foils#but i don't think ro would have slotted into that romance in quite the same way
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Anyway Mouthwashing spoilers
I'm turning Curly over in my head for the narrative punishment he's put through. Like you could you COULD interpret him as a pure victim, framed for Jimmy's crime and forced to suffer in skinless silence while his assailant gets to assume his role but it's more than that, to me. It's not just Jimmy bad Curly good. It's Curly's enablement of Jimmy that sets all of this in motion and, now, how will you take Responsibility, Curly?
It's Curly's "I've known Jimmy a long time. He'll listen to me." It's Curly's brand of leadership that hinges more on being seen as a good leader than on actually taking action. Because being seen as a good leader requires everyone to like him and that's more important to him than actually protecting Anya from Jimmy.
You could say "Jimmy just had everyone fooled into thinking he was a decent guy" except no you can't, because Anya hid the gun from him knowing Jimmy may go ballistic learning she's pregnant with his baby. And she hides the gun because Curly wouldn't. "Why do they have locks on medbay and the cockpit but not in the sleeping quarters?" Anya asks to Curly. Curly knows Jimmy raped Anya but his brand of I Need To Be Liked leadership asserts that Jimmy deserves a seat at the table of this solution. Curly won't do anything. He won't do anything even when he says he'd do anything.
And this is even after Jimmy tore into Curly with left-field accusations about the crew being laid off being something Curly wanted. All the evidence we have says the whole crew is being let go, Curly along with everyone, but Jimmy turns on him and makes it out like Curly wanted this and Curly is the enemy to everyone else on the ship. Curly won't stand up for himself. He won't shut Jimmy down. Swansea holds onto the axe because when locked up the axe requires the Captain to unlock, and maybe Swansea recognizes he's on a ship with a Captain who would not use the axe on the man who needs it.
Curly never wanted anything bad to happen. He never tried to hurt anyone. He never crashed the ship. But he's the one person who could have shut Jimmy down for every horrible sign and action along the way and he didn't he didn't he didn't he didn't. And the very first time he tries to intervene is when it's too little too late. HE gets eviscerated. He gets all his skin burned off. Because of what Jimmy did, but because of what Curly allowed.
And now his chance to act as Captain is gone. His chance to do right is gone. Jimmy is captain now and everyone who knows he's a monster is no longer capable of acting against him. And now skinless voiceless eternally watching, Curly has to lie in his own blood and bear witness to what Jimmy is doing, to everything he enabled. At Jimmy's mercy now like all the others, who physically beats him now and who is there to stand up for Curly? Enable. Enable enable enable.
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Hey! I saw you were accepting Feyd requests and I got so excited! Could you do something where Feyd and reader have been married for a little while, have been pretty stand-offish and just keeping up appearances. They get into a fight over something stupid, saying hurtful things because reader still believes Feyd is incapable of feelings. Turns out heâs really protective though and gets seriously injured saving her during an attack? Reader panics trying to help him and the feels super guilty, meanwhile Feyd is enjoying the attention.
Staining
Feyd-Rautha x reader
Notes/Warnings: It's slightly different, but I hope you like it anyway. Mentions of blood and death. Smut so 18+. I'm sure there's typos. I think that's it.
Words: 4100
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
âYouâre heartlessââthatâs what you spit at him after watching him rip apart another family right before your eyes.Â
He slaughtered a man for a petty crime, and then you had to watch what would become of the wife and children.Â
He gave them options, of course. He presents all of them with a choice: to be servants for his House or to fight for survival in the slums of Giedi Prime. For the mother, it likely means youâll have a new handmaid. For the boys, they will be trained so they can one day face off in the arena. Either way, it's no life.
As he announced the options for their future, you couldnât look away from her: the woman whose husband lay at her feet, the blood drained from his body as she attempted to shield her two young sons behind her small frame. You watched her kind eyes go permanently wide out of shock. She needed to answer your husbandâs question, give a response to his merciful offer, but she couldnât. Nothing on her moved save for the grip she had on her boys, which only tightened the longer she stared at her dead lover.Â
You knew what would happen to them. Your husband found her silence and inability to snap out of her trace irritating. She would make a poor handmaid if she could not listen. The boys, however, could still make fine warriorsâguaranteed entertainment a few years down the line.Â
So he separated them. Allowed the guards to pry them away from their motherâs fingersâwho left her state of shock behind only when she felt them being ripped from her handsâbefore dragging them to cells with tears streaming down their round cheeks.Â
Their mother collapsed to the floor by her dead husband. His blood soaked her skirts. You didnât know how a man could do this to his own people for something as simple as the theft of some food, but he does, and often. Then he had her thrown out, back to the slums where she came from.Â
Sheâll never see her boys again. If you know your husband, he will likely one day force the two to face off with each other in the arena. After all, thatâs where his uncle finds entertainment, and your husband will do anything to please the old man.Â
Long after his guards have departed with the woman, youâre still staring at the body on the floor. The red around him is congealing. If you run your finger through it, the digit will return sticky and thickly coated. Heâll stain your skin. Heâll stain through your skin onto your insides. Heâll never come off.Â
Heâs like your husband, you think. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stained you, and impressively, he didnât even have to touch you to achieve that. Simply being in his presence was enough to leave his mark, and youâre in his presence plenty, just not how you imagined you would be when you married him. You imagined being in his bed. You imagined kisses and loving caresses and sweet wordsâthat kind of staining. But you were a naive girl when your parents dropped you off on this planet, and you quickly learned how to be a woman; a woman whose husband only uses her for formalityâs sake.Â
You donât know why you have to be by his side for this, though, but he always ensures that you are. The two of youâŚa solidified front to the world, as if you agree with the choices he makes and the punishment he doles out to those who donât deserve it.
So thatâs why you say it. Because youâre tired of this, tired of being silent, hating the idea that your silence might lead him to think the two of you are on the same page; that youâre a team.Â
âYouâre heartless.â
His head whips to you. âHeartlessâŚâ His voice around the word is vile; thick and rich like the blood on the floor. With a few steps in your direction he is in your space and you clasp your hands in front of you, fingers squeezing tightly to keep yourself from running off. He stares down at you, a luminous blue that you found so stunningly gorgeous when you first met him now a pair of frozen icicles stabbing into your skull. âIâm heartless?â
Your swallow is rough. Dry and scratchy.Â
âIâm not the one who steals from his neighbors. Iâm not the one who risks leaving his wife alone for the rest of her life,â he says. âThey know the laws. They know the consequences.â
âAnd the woman? She deserves to be alone, rotting away in poor living conditions because of his choice? Her children deserve to die for your entertainment?â
âYou take issue with how I handle things?â
âYes.â
Feydâs back teeth clench. His jaw sets in a sharp line. âAnother reason for you to hate me then,â he grits out.
You blink. Your lips part. Another reason? You donât have multiple reasons, and thereâs certainly nothing youâve done to indicate that you do. You used to hate that he didnât, and doesnât, care about you, but youâve never said a word about it. Youâve never bothered him about sleeping in separate rooms or asked him to give you anything of himself. Thisâhis treatment of his people in situations like this oneâisnât another reason. Itâs the reason.Â
âYou could deal with these matters differently,â you say.
His fingers form balls at his sides. His mouth opens. It closes. He shakes his head and walks past you but pauses before he is completely out of your peripherals. âThis is how things are done here,â he says. âYouâve been my wife for five months now. You need to get used to it.â
â
You donât get used to it. You donât get used to it because he doesnât demand you be by his side at his executions anymore. Not after that day.Â
Youâd never spoken up before that moment, and it cost you what little interaction you had with your husband, which you despise to say was precious. You may not love him, and at times hate him, but he is the only thing you have on this planet. Little as you spoke to one another before, you held onto it because no one else gives a damn about you. Not that he does either, but at least he would give you a word or two. His brother and the Baron donât bother, leaving you to Feyd to decide what to do with and when to do it.Â
However, you imagine they didnât expect that he would never touch you, and based on the way they watch you and Feyd when youâre forced to join the Harkonnenâs for dinner, you imagine theyâre now aware that whatever was between youâminute as it wasâis gone. He doesnât even call on you for formal events. He no longer cares about showing a unified front to the other Great Houses. But you do.
You know what reputation means to the Harkonnens, and regardless of how you feel about the history of Feydâs choices, youâre not willing to present your life on Giedi Prime as a failure. The two of you are too young for whispers to spread among influential families of a tainted marriage, a crack in the system. You donât need questions floating about in regards to a unification that will not result in an heir. The end of the Harkonnen line, theyâll say, as Rabban, much older than your husband, has yet to choose a wife. How unfortunate, theyâll slyly mutter around the rims of their champagne glasses. And youâre not ready for that.Â
So, with the exception of executions, you attend the events your husband does not invite you to anymore. You make sure your face is seen, especially when most vital. At his meetings, at his fights in the arena, and at Harkonnen parties such as this one.Â
People enjoy themselves here. Shockingly, a few strong drinks eases the tension between Houses, and Giedi Prime has the strongest drinks of them all. Itâs a tactic. A genius one, if youâre honest. The Baron invites his guests and gets them in a good mood and strikes deals one cannot go back on. Brilliant. Something you might have thought of yourself if your husband let you share your thoughts; thoughts you have plenty of. But no one cares how you would rule this planet if you had a say in its future.
You watch the Houses mingle about. You watch them laugh and dance. You watch them watch your husband. You watch them watch you. You watch the wheels turn in their alcohol-addled brains. You roll your eyes at what he doesnât see.Â
Ungluing yourself from your designated spot, you step up the staircase that leads to the Harkonnen men, your husband and his brother flanking the throne the Baron sits upon. You donât think to speak to any of them; you didnât break away from your assigned location for words. Instead, for all to see, you reach up to cup Feydâs cheek and turn his head toward you for the first kiss since the day of your wedding. A gentle brush of lips. A buzz more engulfing than any drink could offer.
He freezes, and when you pull back his lips are still parted. His eyes open slowly and he stares down at you in awed confusion. How he doesnât understand why youâve done what youâve done is just short of bewildering, but it doesnât seem to click.Â
âYouââ
âIâm going to retire for the night,â you tell him. Youâve been at this party long enough, and the guests have now seen what they needed to see. Not to mention, their tipsy state means theyâll soon forget any thoughts they have about you until morning. Theyâll stop searching for your presence.Â
You donât wait for your husbandâs nod of approval. Youâre pretty sure he doesnât care where you are at any given time anyway, so you descend the staircase and exit the grand room into the hall that leads to your bedroom.
The echo of footsteps follows and youâre bold enough to believe it could be Feyd before a blade is pressed against your throat from behind. For a moment, you think it still might be your husbandâretaliation for the kiss that re-sparked a feeling youâve been trying to ignore since you married himâbut the voice in your ear is feminine.Â
âHe killed my husband, my Lady,â the voice says, and you instantly remember her. Itâs been two months but nothing could make you forget the look in her eyes. âI want my sons.â
You swallow hard. The blade nicks your throat from the additional force. A droplet trickles down your neck. âI canât return your sons to you,â you tell her, at the same time questioning how she infiltrated such a secure place. But you suppose with the number of guests, slipping in would not have been the most difficult of challenges.Â
You wince at the deepening cut. Your heartbeat quickens, doing little to aid in stopping the blood seeping from your wound. âYouâre the na-Baronness.â
âI have little power here.â
âI donât care!â she shouts, her words bouncing off the walls. âI want my boys,â and you think now sheâs crying. Her tone alters. Something catches in her throat. âWhatâs happened to them?â
You don't wish to tell her, but youâre in no position to deny her requests. âTheyâre alive and well,â you say, which isnât a complete lie. The Baron prefers strong, well-fed fightersâthe duels last longer that way.Â
âI want them back!â
âAs much as I would like to, I cannot give them back to you. Itâs not my decision.â
âThen Iâll take you from him,â she spits. âThe way he took mine.â
You mustâve put on a grander show than you expected with that kiss because she seems to fully believe that your death would matter to him. But you know he wonât blink an eye. He might even thank her. Reward her by reuniting her with her sons, though unlikely.Â
âHe wonât care,â you tell her.Â
âI have seen him, my Lady. He will care,â she says, and you donât know how she could possibly come to that conclusion or why. Itâs not as if the people of Giedi Prime sense a kind capability from the Harkonnens. âHe willââ
She chokes. The blade trembles then drops from your neck. You quickly glance down to find Feydâs knife deep in her side.Â
Many things are a mystery to you in that moment. Why he bothered to leave the party; why he came down this hall of all halls, especially when his room resides in another; and why he pierced her side rather than go for the neck, which would have instantly ended her. His mistake. An uncharacteristic mistake.
The woman whips around, freeing you, and you stumble out of reach. Theyâre a blur of battling bodies as you get your footing, but then it catches up with youâthe pain. Your hand goes to your neck and you make a little noise at the sting of your fresh wound. Your mistake.Â
Feyd looks away from her in search of you for a single second. Not even. A half-second. But the woman is smaller, quicker, and the distraction is enough. Her blade slides into his abdomen. He grunts. You gasp.
He regains his focus and, by her hair, he rips her head back to expose her throat and shoves the blade through her neck. Blood spurts across his chest as he removes the weapon, and she collapses to her knees before the rest of her body flops to the floor.Â
Feyd takes a shaky step back, staring down at the blade in his torso. He drops his knife and his hand goes to the hilt of the other.Â
âNo, donât!â you yell, but youâre too late. He jerks the blade out and it clatters on the ground. His palm does nothing to stop the flow of crimson.Â
Rushing to him, you fall to the floor as he does. You press your hands on top of his to keep the pressure but itâs useless. âDonât you know anything?â you mutter. âYou shouldâve kept the damn thing in.â
He chuckles. The bastard actually chuckles. Then his other hand raises and lands on top of yours. You think heâs trying to add more pressure, but his touch is gentle. His thumb runs over your knuckles.Â
âItâs alright,â he says, and youâve never heard his voice so devoid of depth and strength.
âNo, itâs not,â you retort, irritated.Â
âYou still hate me?â
âShut up!â you snap. âHelp!â Yanking the black chiffon sleeve off your gown, it tears free and you ball the material to shove it against his wound. âHelp!âÂ
Guards burst through the doors and run to you. You sigh with relief, but when you look down, your husband is paler than youâve ever seen him.Â
âFeydâŚâÂ
Youâre shoved out of the way in a second, flung to the side like a flicked-away ant, and then heâs taken from you. You watch them until heâs out of view. When you glance down at your hands, theyâre stained with him.Â
â
They bandaged your neck in mere minutes and you find it aggrivating that they couldnât work as efficiently on him. Youâve been dead silent for hours now, expecting to hear screams of pain as they stitch him back together, but then you remember heâs a glutton for pain. Heâs probably enjoying it, the sick bastard. But youâre not enjoying itâthe waiting, the limbo. Itâs torturous.Â
Youâve never seen him hurt before. Youâve witnessed his skills in the arena, and not once in your seven months of marriage has someone gotten a decent slash on him.Â
Guilt hits you hard as you recall that itâs your fault. That woman was skilled as wellâyou suppose she would be if she was raised to live where she didâbut if you hadnât made that noise, if you hadnât distracted him, she wouldâve been dead before she could do her damage. This wouldnât have happened.Â
Just then, a knock comes at your door. You speak for them to enter and a guard peeks into your room. âMy LadyâŚâ he says, and you pray youâre not about to be told your husband didnât survive a single stab wound. âYou can come with me.â
You donât wait around for more. You hop to your feet and quickly follow through hall after hall until youâre at his room.Â
âWhat will I see when I walk in there?â you ask.Â
âHeâs fine, my Lady,â he says, bowing his head to dismiss himself before returning to his post.Â
Turning the knob, you edge the door open and step inside. The bed is in immediate view, but heâs not in it. Heâs not in it and he should be. Not even the covers are pulled back. Maybe the guard misled you. If he were fine, surely he would be resting.Â
You make your way in further.Â
âYouâre here.âÂ
Your head snaps to your right where heâs leaning against the lone table in his room, a lit orb on the wooden surface illuminating him from behind in a white glow. Heâs less pale than he was; what little rosiness he once had returned to his skin.Â
Clearing your throat, you say, âI was told to come.â
âBecause I told them to bring you,â he says.Â
Your heart pounds at the bareness of his torso, the thickness of his arms as they cross in front of his chest. It pounds in a different way, an off-kilter way, when you notice the dressings wrapped around his waist and the patch of blood that is seeping through three layers of it.Â
He must see your distraction because he says, âItâs fine.â Your eyes flick back to his. A beat of silence passes between you. Youâre unsure how to continue now that heâs seen the concern you have for him. âI suppose youâre disappointed.â
âDisappointed?â you repeat. âWhat for?â
âIâm alive.â
Your jaw drops ever so slightly. You recover as best you can before you say, âFeyd, I donât want you toâIâve never wanted you toââ
He holds up his hand, cutting you off. âIâm going to listen to you.â
Your brow pinches. Why did he silence you, then? âListen to me about what?â
He takes a deep breath, an action that lifts his shoulders and has them falling heavily back down. His eyes penetrate you as theyâve always done, but the iciness is gone. âI donât care if the people I hurt want to kill me,â he starts. âBut she didnât come to kill me; she came to hurt me by killing you. So I will listen to your thoughts when it comes to dealing with matters like that one.â He pauses, expecting a response, but you donât quite know what to give him, so he continues. âYour voice will make fewer enemies.â
âYou care about making enemies?â Since when would a Harkonnen ever care about such a thing? Especially when they are known for doing that thing so well.
âI care when they come after my wife,â he says. Pushing off the table, he leisurely steps toward you. Youâre stuck to your spot. âThe men of my House do not have a history of caring about their wives. Theyâve never cared if their actions bring them harm, and yet, people have used our wives as pawns for revenge for centuries. Many have died to prove a point. Iâm not going to let you be one of them.â
He stops only to not collide with your body. You have to look up to maintain eye contact, and when you do, his breath brushes over your lips. âWhy didnât you kill her when you could have? You stabbed her in the side. You avoided vital organs.â
âBecause you wouldnât have wanted me to kill her if I didnât have to,â he says. âSo I didnât kill herâŚuntil I had to.â
You suck in a sharp breath. You didnât know he was capable of such restraint. You didnât know he had enough fragments of a heart to glue together to keep him from doing exactly as he pleases.Â
His hand lands on your hip and his thumb begins to rub up and down over the curve of it. He hasnât touched youâŚever. In fact, heâs seemed over the months to deliberately avoid it. Like your skin would burn him even through the fabric of your gowns. Anytime it looked like he would try, heâd pull back before flesh grazed flesh.Â
âYou hadnât kissed me since we married,â he says, so gentle in that low voice that itâs practically a whisper. It doesnât make the heat of his breath any less intense against your skin.Â
âPeople were watching too intensely,â you inform him. âThey were thinking something was wrong between us, I could tell, and I didnât want to give them that power over you.â
âSo that was it, then?â he asks. âThatâs the only reason you did it?â
âThatâsââ you swallow, debating whether or not to say it, to give him more.Â
âWhat?â
âThatâs the reason I did it,â you decide to tell him, and his face shifts; his features alter in a manner youâve never seen. He looks down to his feet. He nods and his touch disappears, and now you feel cold and you hate it. âBut thatâs not the only reason I wanted to do it.â
He freezes as he did before. For a moment, his chest stops rising and falling with expected breaths. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, he raises his head.Â
You canât stop staring, even though your brain is telling you to get ahold of yourself. His mouth is so plush. Youâve always known it. Itâs always done something to you. And whatever that something is, itâs more potent now that heâs so close and you can see his lips glistening in the low light.Â
âWill you do it again?â he asks.
Again? You didnât imagine he wanted you to do it the first time, or the second. The first was an obligation. The second was not exactly mutually agreed upon. But as he stands in front of you, asking, you canât bring yourself to say no. You donât want to say no. So you say yes, and you inch up on your toes until your lips meet his.Â
Immediately, heâs yanking your body flush against his. His hand goes into your hair, and he parts his lips so they can better lock with yours. Heâs good at this, and you donât want to think about why, canât think about why without a knot of jealousy settling in your gut that only dissipates when those hands travel down your body to the back of your thighs. Youâre in the air, your legs wrapped around his waist, your lips still sealed for one second more before your back hits the mattress and heâs on top of you with his leg shoving between yours, nudging your thighs open for him.Â
You donât know the exact moment it happens, but your skirts are up to your waist and heâs inside of you, moving in and out, kissing your neck and pulling gasps from your throat, and it feels right, good, like pieces falling together. A bit of you feels guilty for that. That you can know what heâs done to people and still want to feel the pleasure of every inch that heâs giving you. Youâre selfish, maybe thatâs it. Maybe youâve always been and you didnât know it. You canât bring yourself to care as he makes those deep noises in your ear and stains your insides.
After youâre sated, you lay there for a while with him in your arms and his arms wrapped around your waist. His head rests on your chest. You think about the things youâve done to each other in the course of an hour and it brings a blush to your cheeks. You think about how you canât go back and that you donât want to. Youâve wanted this from the beginning, despite what heâs done. You expected it when you married him only to be sorely disappointed at his lack, or what appeared as a lack, of interest. Youâre definitely selfish, at least when it comes to him. But you refuse to be when it comes to other matters.
âI want something from you,â you say. He hums, content. âI want us to take in that woman's boys.â
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âmercy sagaâ au
name is a work in progress but its what im tagging all of this au under. anyways, AU is basically;
Odysseusâ arc goes in reverse. He starts off as a monster and learns mercy. also au is sorta ooc, also referenced from the odyssey
Anyways,
TROY SAGA
the musical starts with The Horse and the Infant, followed by Just a Man.
No changes to THatI. Just a man is less of a ballad and more of a villain song. With Odysseus dropping the infant, he establishes how he will do anything to get home. He has minimal hesitation, unlike the original song. Odysseus is already a monster.
then, we have Full Speed Ahead, and Warrior of the Mind
In Full Speed Ahead, we meet two major characters. Eurylochus, Odysseusâ second in command, and Polites, his best friend. Theyâre running out of food. Eurylochus suggests they dock on the island ahead and raid for food. Odysseus agrees.
There, they find the Lotus Eaters, a large group of men and women who are more than willing to share their fruit after some back and forth with Polites.
Unfortunately, Odysseus does not recognize the fruit.
In Warrior of The Mind, Athena appears and forces Odysseus to reject the fruit from his body. She sobers him up by reminding him of his role as a warrior of the mind and his goal to get home.
Unfortunately, Odysseusâs men have also consumed the fruit. Some are harder to sober up than others.
The final song of the Troy Saga is Cope With That.
In this song, Elpenor, a crew member, reveals his friend Perimedes is depressed. He asks that they leave him on the island, because he is happier under the lotusâ effects.
Unfortunately, Athena urges Odysseus to refuse. And he does.
Odysseus forces all of the men to return to the ship, including those still under the effects of the lotus, like Perimedes.
He threatens the lotus eaters, asking where they can get other food, and is directed to a nearby cave.
next up..
cyclops saga
[open arms is NOT removed, just moved to a later time]
#epic the musical#epicthemusical#odysseus#epic odysseus#polites#epic polites#eurylochus#epic eurylochus#athena#epic athena#elpenor#epic elpenor#perimedes#epic perimedes#astyanax#epic astyanax#au#alternate universe#epic au#mercy saga
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favorite da2 battle lines in no particular order
i'm listening to a compilation by danaduchy on youtube rn so
literally every fenris line bcs everyone else is YELLING and he's just speaking in his regular quiet-ish voice. king what are you saying i can't HEAR YOU
except for when hawke goes down. THEN he's loudly upset.
"hawke's down! time to panic!" (isabela)
"the tame elf is down" (varric - what the fuck omg don't call fenris that)
"your pet elf has fallen" (carver - WHAT THE FUCK OMG DON'T CALL FENRIS THAT)
"that moody mage is down" (aveline)
"ugh, can someone pick up fenris please?" (merrill)
"isabela's on the ground... appropriately" (aveline - HELLO?!?!?!?)
"merrill! oh, blood mages are so dramatic" (isabela)
"aveline has fallen?" (fenris - why is this a question babe)
"they got whatshisname, the mage" (varric - i continue to believe he doesn't know anders' name until act 3)
"the dwarf has dropped a few more feet" (sebastian)
"dear varric, please learn to parry. love, your innards" (varric)
"do you have something for this, because it hurts" (carver)
"even my teeth hurt" (anders)
"i've got so many bruises now they've got names and families" (merrill)
"ugh, i have dirt in my mouth" (sebastian)
"you're going to let me walk around injured?" (carver)
"being close to death is very bad for my morale" (isabela)
sebastian describes his wounds as "oozing" or "seeping" more than once
"i know dalish are meant to be close to the earth, but we don't mean literally" (merrill)
"i'm alright, who needs kidneys anyway" (isabela)
"hawke. varric. i think this is bad." (merrill)
"stop being you and fix me up" (carver - BABY. BABY BROTHER.)
"that really gets the blood flowing" but also "i will fight and pray for forgiveness later" but also "this is much more exciting than the chantry!" (sebastian - what is wrong with you <3)
"my face is not a shield!" (hawke)
"and they say drinking doesn't solve anything" (isabela)
"haawke i can't mooove" (sebastian)
"i'm too far away, what do you want me to do? shout at them?" (isabela)
"i'd have to fly to reach! of course, i've always wanted to learn to fly" (merrill - she's literally the funniest person ever)
"alas, no" (fenris)
"my faith is my armor! my cause is my shield!" (sebastian)
"if we kill them, we get their stuff!" (isabela)
"andraste's knees, it's like herding cats!" (isabela)
"AFRAID YET?!" (anders)
"RUN! WHILE YOU CAN!" (anders - he's so loud i love him)
"another one for me! how many have you gotten, hawke?" (varric)
"ah. a shame that you're going to die, no?" (fenris)
"you. me. and an audience. that's what this is all about!" (carver)
"may the creators have mercy on you! i certainly won't." (merrill)
"destructive forces of nature, coming up!" (anders)
"suck on a fireball!" (anders)
"NEVER TAUNT A MAGE!!!" (anders)
"a thrust, now a parry" (fenris)
"i'm gonna taunt you in elvish now! durgen'len! aravel! vallaslin!" (merrill)
"hello, i'm merrill, and i'll be your distraction." (merrill)
"I'LL SHOW YOU WHY MAGES ARE FEARED!!!" (anders)
"maker please forgive your children" followed immediately by "DID YOU SEE THAT SHOT" (sebastian)
"WANT TO SEE WHAT'S UNDER THESE ROBES?!?!?!" (anders)
"I'M RIGHT HERE! HIT ME!" (isabela)
"maker, the idiocy" (bethany)
"MAKER BLESS YOUR CHILDREN IN THEIR HOUR OF NEEEED" (sebastian)
"my weapon does nothing??" (fenris - he sounds so puzzled help)
"this is SO not working" (anders)
"if the pointy sticks don't work, try the other pointy sticks" (isabela)
"ah, dear. why doesn't anyone ever want to be nice to us?" (merrill)
"is there an end to the people who hate you?" (aveline)
"looks like we've got a few more puppies to kick" (isabela - HELLO?!?)
"take a step, kill, repeat repeat repeat" (carver)
"the hate you inspire is unfortunate" (fenris)
"another twenty steps, another batch of deaths" (anders)
"nobody seems to like you. do you get used to that?" (merrill - ouch. brutal hskfjhgksdjfhg)
"i can't take credit for all of this. hawke helped a little bit" (isabela)
#i wanna know everyone's favorite lines pls tell meeee#max.txt#dragon age#dragon age 2#kirkwall squad#hawke#fenris#isabela#sebastian vael#anders#merrill#aveline#carver hawke#bethany hawke#varric tethras
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So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, hereâs a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Huskâs status as a former Overlord may factor into things.
Because I have a hunch itâs actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angelâs contract.
Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:
Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as weâve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.
Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angelâs freedom. Alastor returns Huskâs power as an Overlord because heâs curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.
Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy heâs doing this for what heâs doing to âkeep them safeâ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play laterâŚ
As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is⌠well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.
Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Huskâs own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.
What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentinoâs shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.
However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.
Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.
And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlieâs head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.
Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one whoâs going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlieâs true power.
And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlieâs âDevil Formâ is almost certainly going to be saved for when sheâs forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin theory#hazbin rambling#angel dust#hazbin husk#huskerdust#husk#hazbin valentino#charlie morningstar#devil!charlie#how valentino dies a horrible painful death theory
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Reckless Romantics
Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.
Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music loverâ any kind of music you likeâ but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofreadâ will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).
A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goalsâ time got away from me. I donât think Iâll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know itâs always true.
â with love from writella, my beautiful reader. âĄ
Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.
My mercy prevails over my wrath, heâd sayâ his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others didâ admired, applauded, stuck by him for itâ it would be a lie to say that he didnât take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldnât fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.
So why couldnât someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?
As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldnât fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.
From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all youâve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.
This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, althoughâ maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybeâ sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.
Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the sameâ they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didnât always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishapsâ (itâs the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)â to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A bandâs frontman.
âSo, what about you?â One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. âWhich one do you like?â
âTheyâre all attractive guys,â you say, keeping your eyes on the road. âBut I donât really think about them like that.â You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.
âCome on,â she prods. âYou never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.â
âWhose us?â Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. âI donât talk about that shit.â But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.
âI donât laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.â
âBut what Iâm saying is that I didnât let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,â the girl jokes half-heartedly.
âWhat do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because Iâm the one with the CDs.â
And itâs true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girlâs room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girlâs room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discoveryâ the find of all findsâ was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.
You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the bandâs history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you werenât listening, thatâs what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the townâs music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.
Except for now.
âWell, if I had to guess,â the girl persists despite your silence, âI think it would be Rick.â
âWhat?â Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, âWhy Rick? Everyone likes him.â
Rosita sends a look your way. Itâs innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.
âExactly,â the girl says. âHeâs a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like heâd talk you through it, which I think would be good forâ someone like you.â
Your face is on fire, you canât even speak properly. âI- first of all, what do you know about my experience?â you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, âSecond, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?â
Ohâ
That makes car goes quiet.
You know you made a mistake.
You didnât mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didnât apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. Itâs not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rickâs curls are, how he doesnât have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didnât mean you had a crush on him.
Right?
Maybe it doesnât matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you donât get close to them. And it didnât matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.
Right?
Anyway, letâs get back to your crass⌠joke.
âHilarious.â Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.
âThat was ages ago though,â the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, âand he did it to help her. He didnât care about the mess he made. He save her. Iâd say thatâs pretty romantic.â
âLetâs not call that romantic,â Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. âThat wasnât love.â
âThat was reckless, not romantic.â You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. âI shouldnât have mentioned it.â
But after that day, it was all you could think about.
The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that heâd send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.
These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.
Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyoneâs? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if youâd like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasnât just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peerâ at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But itâs not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didnât get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldnât have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and sheâs tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you canât help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didnât make you feel like the childish little sister others do.
Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldnât be. But you couldnât stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But thenâ it all caught up to you.
Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.
And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than thatâ he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.
You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didnât. He hasnât spoken to you in almost three weeks untilâ
âWoah-â you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.
âSorry,â you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. Heâs still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.
âHi,â you whisper tentatively.
âGood morning,â he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You donât miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesnât miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.
âGood morning,â you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.
âGood morning,â he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.
âOh waitâ is the leaderâs meeting here today?â Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, âI totally forgot! Iâm sorry. I know I should be gone by now.â
He shakes his head, âItâs fine. I was just going to the bathroom.â
âHere? Was someone in the one downstairs?â
âJust wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didnât see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.â
You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying youâll sound immature or stutter in front of him. âI'm sorry,â you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: âI know youâre busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?â
Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closetâ you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.
Rick doesnât question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much youâve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? Itâs like you havenât felt him in ages.
âWhat were you playing today?â He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rickâs legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.
âSelena. Rosita loves her. Itâs one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.â
He nods. âI probably wouldnât understand a bit of it,â he laughs.
He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you donât. There is a silence that follows until you ask, âSo,â starting slowly, âwhatâs wrong? Is Daryl aright?â
He doesnât answer. His mouth is open as if heâs deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, âYou know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.â
The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appearâ a quiet laugh. âWell you know Iâd never want to make you sad. Especially not you.â You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. âWeâll be fine,â he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, butâ he knows he doesnât want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldnât after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you whatâs happening: âDaryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how heâs always going out there. But I think itâs way too soon.â
You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. âI think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,â you suggest.
âI know,â he nods a bit annoyedly; âand thatâs a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethinâ he can be so damn stubborn. Itâs frustrating. He wonât compromise or listen to anything.â
Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like heâs describing himself and he doesnât even realize it.
âAnd,â he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldnât tell you what heâs about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glennâs arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought âem, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.â
You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. âWow,â is all you can get in before he speaks again.
âImagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldnât even meet him?â Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. âIt was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on whatâs inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.â
Your eyes remain wide, âWe did so much rebuilding you.â
âWe did complete rebuilding.â He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: âI think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I mustâve hurt him,â Rick realizes, âand now he definitely wonât be back todayâ maybe not even until next week.â
A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things youâve never dealt with. You didnât want to say something stereotypical.
âIâm sorry Iâm putting all this on you.â
âNo, no,â you quickly console, trying to think. âUm, well,â you say, starting unsteadily, âthis is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I donât even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?â
âI do,â he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:
âThis is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.â
His eyebrows furrow, âDidnât those two hate each other?â
âI mean, yesâ but itâs much more complicated than that to meâ but no, I donât mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I donât remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because theyâre brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, butâŚâ you trail off.
He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like youâve gone too far. Itâs all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to whatâs going on that youâre even confusing yourself a little. âI think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think thatâs like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But thereâs still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like Iâm sure you already know and I didnât even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life youâre trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.â You laugh small and breathily as you end. âThat probably didnât make sense.â
Rick smiles to himself. âI didnât get that first bit, with the quote, but no⌠that made a lot of sense to me.â He nods toward you and you return his smile. âYouâre so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.â
This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: âMay I, may I kiss you?â
âYes,â he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: âyes.â
Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. Youâre slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftlyâ worried youâll lose your confidence, worried heâll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didnât want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you donât know. But youâre sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.
Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also werenât.
Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, âI liked that,â he says softly.
âYou did?â You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.
A short, airy snicker comes out, âMhm,â he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.
âCan I⌠try it again?â
Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. âYeah,â he nods, voice gentle. âDo you want me to help?â
You nod before you speak, happily accepting, âYes.â
He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesnât notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smileâ the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.
Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, âCome here.â
You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, âIs this okay?â
You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.
âYou want to try this time?â
âUh,â he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but youâre afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, âYes, okay.â
So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. âSorry,â and quickly he responds that itâs okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.
You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.
Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. âWait,â you say, âI like this.â You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. âBut⌠there is something I wanted to ask you.â
âOkay,â his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, âWhat it is?â
Another pause. âI feel nervous,â you whisper.
âYou have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.â
You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.
He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.
âWell, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,â you stutter, âI want to pleasure you. If thatâs okay. And I was wondering if youâd teach me how- to touch you here.â You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.
Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.
This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didnât expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. âI feel like I took advantage of you last time.â
âRickâŚâ you shake your head. âIâm the one who didnât close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everythingâŚâ You start to worryâ is he second guessing everything now?ââI feel maybe we remember this differently.â You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.
Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, âItâs just that Iâve never done something like this before.â His thumb sways on your skin. âI just donât want you to end up feeling like youâre wasting your time. Your first times.â
Youâre surprised, âItâs so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you donât think youâre good enough.â You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. âI like you. So much.â You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. âNo one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you knowâ she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just donât. I donât have my person, or any person.â You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. âYouâre kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me⌠â If your face could get any hotter, it does, âAnd, well, youâre very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.â
God⌠Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situationâ and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying toâ would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose thatâs one for widowerâs wisdom.
Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. âRemember when I did this the first time?â
A smirk came on, thereâs the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.
âYes,â you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, âShould I start taking this off too?â
âMm, stay like that.â Heâs taking off his belt. âThought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.â
Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.
As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didnât realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happensâ although itâs only been twiceâ and each time he talks to youâ which has been plentyâ you steal a little more of Rickâs heart and he just canât stop it.
âSo,â he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, âyou usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.â He shakes his head, âthereâs not too much too it but itâs best to keep your hand light at the start, youââ
You nod quickly, âMay I?â
As he nods back you, âYes.â And as he says it youâre already licking your hand.
âIs it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?â
Heâs caught off guard, âNo, no, that helps.â
So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but youâre a little scared to speak up that way just yet and youâre too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how heâs so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a littleâ testing it out to see what happensâand he groans, unadulterated this time, âoh, fuck.â
The heel of your foot thatâs under your lap pushes into your center at that.
You start pumping faster. âAm I doing good, Rick?â
Hearing your voice sets him off, âFuck, sweetheart. Yes.â Heâs honestly choking out each of his words, he didnât expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that⌠he canât even remember. âYouâre doing an amazing job.â
As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. Youâre feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.
âOh, fuck, yeah,â he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.
You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.
âDid I, make you come?â
âYeah,â he says, huffing.
âI did?â your cheekbones rise as you ask with aweâ it was another first for the books.
Rickâs tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contactâ almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. âDoesnât always happen that fast,â he explains.
âWell before a month ago I didnât know how to make myself come so I wouldnât know,â you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. âI didnât expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it wasâŚâ you smile while giggling, âinteresting.â
âA good interesting I hope.â
âVery,â you assure. âI liked it.â You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesnât tell you that you donât have to; he helps along with you.
âYou sure youâve never done any of this before?â
You shake your head. âI just read fiction books.â
He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.
When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, itâs time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.
Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, âI really wanna show you something sweetheart.â He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. âCan I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?â
You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. âI-â you start nodding your head, â-I would really like that.â And in such a small voice you add, âPlease.â
Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, âI would love to.â
Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once theyâre gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.
Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldnât like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that theyâd get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happeningâ someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feelâ you now knew what it was like to be desired.
Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.
He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, âLook down. Donât miss your first time.â
Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, theyâre always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see youâre nervous. You donât trust yourself, you know it, and heâs starting to realize it too. Youâre scared of completely letting go.
He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. âNo oneâs here,â he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. âRelax,â he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, âDonât think about who could come downstairs.â
âWhat if Rosita or Daryl come back?â
âWhat if?â He says it so simply as if heâs ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but⌠you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didnât care. It didnât matter. âLay back,â he gently commands, âforget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like Iâm the only one who's here.â
Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you canât control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, âuh, ah, uh, uhâ that turn into âsorry, Iâm sorry.â Youâre still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time youâve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.
But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. âI like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds youâre making.â
Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.
âKeep going. You donât have to be shy.â He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. âWeâve already made a mess anyway.â
He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, âCan you make sounds too?â
Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, âWant me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?â His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.
Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.
Thatâs it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. âI love tasting your pussy, baby.â
You couldnât breathe.
Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole âMy bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?â
âOh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.â
Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. âSorry,â you say. Youâve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. âRick! Oh my god,â you moan and then again and again and then you come.
Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.
He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. âYou did such a good job,â he says. âYou always do.â
Youâre filled with pride at that. âThank you.â Then worry sets in. You realize how public youâve made everything. âDid I just ruin your life?â
He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.
âIâm gonna check downstairs. Okay? If theyâre there, theyâre there.â You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. âThey might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didnât do anything wrong.â
Your eyes are still nervous, but itâs all too late anyway. âOkay,â you respond.
âOkay,â he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, âI promise I wonât wait two weeks to see you again.â
âIâd like that.â
âMe too,â he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.
When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.
As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.
Call when youâre done, it reads.
âRosita?â He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?
He can almost hear the grin on her face. âThey should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.â She pauses for dramatic effect. âThereâs just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.â
Before he can respond, telling her that itâs absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:
âSo, fucking my roommate? Youâre glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.â
She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. âJust get over here,â she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.
Oh, Alexandriaâs leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomenâs fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.
Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.
#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x reader smut#rick grimes x fem!reader#rick grimes x female reader#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes x y/n smut#rick grimes x you#rick grimes smut#rick grimes fic#rick grimes fluff#twd fanfiction#twd smut#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead smut#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fanfic
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Babydoll
He thought it was what he wanted, he really did. Ever since Christian was little, he enjoyed playing with dolls. Not so much because he liked to do what girls doâwell, he didâbut more that he wanted to be the doll. They got to wear pretty dresses and have their long blonde hair put into bows, their cutesy shoes switched out, and they got to be pampered and adored by someone else.
Speaking of pampered, Christian seemed to always gravitate towards the dolls that needed diapers. The ones that would squirt fake wets and messes so he could change them. He remembered begging his Mother for those toys.
His Mother knew that Christian would most likely not grow up to be a very strong, masculine boy. She knew her son was not like the others, heâd taken far too much interest in all things feminine, but she also never saw anything wrong with that. She would oblige him if he asked her to paint his nails, or put make-up on him, or make his hair curly. She thought it would be a phase, something heâd grow out of when he got to high school.
But college came and went and Christian was still living in her basement. She could hear him at night, making loud, pathetic mewling sounds. Watching god knows what on the internet and doing god knows what to himself. She found countless diapers in the trashcan that Christian did a pisspoor job of hiding. When a bra or panty set went missing, she knew the first place to look was in Christianâs room tucked into the back of his closet. She never said anything, though. She let her boy partake in his little fantasies and work himself raw. Sheâd change his sheets that only had a hint of piss soaked into them, as if most of it ended up somewhere else and this was only what leaked out when a certain item had reached capacity.
Christian had spent most of his life jerking off to sissy and abdl and feminization porn. Heâd watched countless hypnos that made his brain rot, he even put his own penis in a cage sometimes and learned to cum like a âgurlâ. But all of that was only when he was in the throes of hornydom. Heâd dream of being a pretty little doll for someone, to get put in diapers and dresses and makeup and be âforcedâ to live life as a little sissy bimbo. This, obviously, didnât do much for the ladies, so he never had a true girlfriend.
So one day, Christian decided after 5 days of depriving himself of orgasms, that he was finally going to come out to his Mom. He was going to tell her about how heâs a sissy, how he likes to wear diapers, and be treated like a baby. He was tired of keeping all of this shoved down and tucked away for so long.
It felt so freeing to finally tell her. To let her know everything about what her son was secretly doing. But, apparently, it wasnât much of a surprise at all. She hardly blinked an eye, and instead just smiled like a mother patiently waiting for her child to correctly solve what 6+8 is, and congratulating him for finally getting it.
âSo you want me to treat you like a little sissy baby?â she asked, clarifying.
âWell, noâŚâ he said. Or, at least, thatâs what he wanted to say. Instead, he was awestruck by the idea, by the possibilities. He could finally get what he wanted! He could have someone treat him like the sissy baby gurl heâd always wanted to be! âYes!â He said for real, âVery much yes!!â
His mother only laughed. âAre you sure thatâs what you want? I mean, when will it stop? How long do you want to do this?â
âForever.â He said, a single word sealing his fate. If he knew what he knew now, he would have never uttered that word.
âYouâre sure?â
âYes.â OkayâŚmaybe he shouldnât have said that one either.
So started Christianâs journey into sissy depravity. His mother pulled out all the stops, showing no mercy. Like a stern parent raising her child once more, she kept him in line using discipline, time outs, and a new one most mothers canât use: chastity denial.
She watched as her son slowly transformed into a babbling, drooly mess. She wasnât sure if it was the hypnosis sheâd been making him watch, or all the childish TV shows. He wasnât allowed to play his video games any more, something he threw quite the little tantrum over. Instead, he was given blocks and rattles and (if he was good) some of his favorite dollies. She didnât have to cook much, Gerber took care of all his meals. Sheâd shovel pureed prunes and peas into his mouth and wipe up the contents to shove back in. She didnât think sheâd ever be changing Christianâs poopy diapers again, yet here she was.
But after only a few short months, she started to notice even more of a change in him. He became more reclusive, more whiny, more tearful.
âWhatâs wrong, pumpkin?â she asked, drying Christianâs eyes with his food splattered bib.
âI onât wanna be uh baby anymore!â he cried.
But his Mother showed no sympathy. âAwww!! Well thatâs too bad, hunny! This is what you wanted! Remember? You wanted this to be forever.â
Christian looked up at her with his little doe eyes, like he knew heâd made a grave mistake.
âI guess this is as good a time as ever to tell youâŚâ Mother said, clearing her throat, âIâve arranged for you to have a littleâŚprocedure.â
âPuceedur?â Christian could hardly get the words out, his brain was so numb.
âYes honey. You know those little princess parts between your legs?âÂ
He looked confused.
âThe ones inside your pampers.â
That seemed to make sense to him, anything involving diapers was easy to get his head around.
âWell you see honey, this procedure, this operation is going to take those away!â
His eyes went wide, but he still looked hazy. Like he could only slightly understand the gravity of the situation. It took several more seconds to finally sink in.
âB-b-butâŚI onât wanna lose my princess parts!!â
His mother just shrugged, arms crossed. âIâm afraid itâs too late for that, dear. You wanted this, and Iâm just supporting you.â
She pulled a bottle from the bag, shaking it with her finger over the nipple, then brought that nipple to Christianâs lips.
âDrink up, honey!â she said softly, âThis has all the ingredients to help you become the wittle baby gurl youâve always dreamed of being!!â
~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Ghost Chirps AU Part 3
Part 1 & 2
Around half past midnight, Jason is losing his patience.
They've been searching for hours and finding a whole lot of nothing, and statistics about the odds of finding kidnapping victims and the first 72 hours.
It's been almost 48 since he saw the kid and he's cursing himself for not doing more sooner.
Cameras are finding nothing, Signal is finding nothing, everyone is finding a whole lot of nothing.
And Jason...
Jason chirps.
He doesn't know if it'll help, but it's the only idea he's got. Even if it's a shallow chance. It's all he's got; he has to try.
And if Bruce decides that Jason being meta is the line? Then he'll cope.
He won't refuse to do something just because he's scared when his- when the kid's well being is on the line.
He won't be like Bruce, who'd let his killer walk free rather than do something about it because his feelings were somehow more important when Jason died.
He won't.
The first chirp yields nothing.
He does it again pushing to try and make it as loud as possible.
Again, nothing.
Again, he chirps, something in him certain that if he just keeps going it'll work. Somehow. But he's learned to trust his gut - or weird meta instincts?
And it works.
Because after the third chirp the kid chirps back.
Except.
The kid is not in Gotham.
He is very, very not in Gotham.
He chalks it up to his weird meta-bird instincts that he somehow just knows it came from somewhere hundreds of miles that-a-way.
Kidnapping is looking more likely given just how far the kid got, but now?
Now Jason has a way to find him.
He ignores Oracle asking about mask static in favor of hopping down from the balcony he'd paused on and heading back to the batbike - Bruce's paranoia meant it would have more than enough gas to take him as far as he needed to go and then some.
'And more than enough weapons to level a block, if needed,' he thinks viciously.
"Hood!" Oracleâs sharp voice shakes him from his thoughts.
"Found the kid," he shoots back, hoping to avoid the inevitable questioning.
Mixed exclamations of relief and confusion echoed over the radio.
"How!?" Nightwing cries. "I was literally right next to you! What did I miss!?"
"What are you, deaf?" he grumbles back irritably, uncomfortable. It'd be easier if they were, he thinks. Then he wouldn't have to explain.
"Does this have something to do with the static noise your helmet was producing previously? I had worried it was damaged," Oracle asks.
"Static?" Jason echoes, not slowing a bit - nearly to the bike.
"Oh yeah!" Nightwing says, as though she's making perfect sense.
'Ah,' he thinks, 'A shred of mercy in this vastly cruel existence.'
Aloud, he just says, "Yup. He's not in Gotham anymore, though, and I don't know how far he'll end up going or how long I'll be gone. Anyone who wants to come with can catch up, because I'm leaving now."
15 seconds later he's leaping onto the batbike and peeling out.
***
Jason doesnât chirp again until heâs nearly to Illinois.Â
He wants to. He wants to chirp nonstop the moment he hears that first reply, wants to spend the whole hours-long drive listening to nothing but a litany of chirps that reassure him that his kid is alive alive alive.
He wonât risk it.Â
He doesnât know where, exactly, the kid is. Doesnât know if his family didnât hear him because the chirps are only audible to him and the kid or if it was really due to a helmet malfunction covering for him.Â
But there is a chance that whoever has the kid can hear his chirps, so Jason wonât risk having him respond more than he absolutely has to in order to find him.
The next time, the kid answers back to the very first chirp, and Jason knows heâs heading in the right direction.
He gets turned around just once, overshooting and heaving to loop back, but he curses himself for it anyway - wasting precious time when the kid is going through who knows what.
Then heâs entering Amity Park: a nice place to live.
A nice place to die, for whoever it was that took his kid.
Several chirps later heâs in front of a school - of all things.
He doesnât waste time doubting himself - kidnapping victims could be stashed anywhere - he storms in, batbike left idling at the base of the front steps.
Three chirps later heâs slamming through a door into a classroom. Full of kids. Taking a totally normal class - aside, of course, from Jasonâs interruption.
One last exchange of chirps later and he finally lays eyes on his little shadow - who has the audacity to also look surprised, as if he wasnât the one to lead him here in the first place.
Jason takes a moment to feel relieved, adrenaline beginning to crash before it revs back up with his indignation.
What happened to âgoodbye!â Who in their right mind would disappear from Gotham and not think that those left behind would assume they were kidnapped!? Itâs Gotham!
Oh. Oh the child was in Gotham alone.
The child was in Gotham for a vacation.
Oh the childâs parents didnât even realize he was gone? Heâs worried about them putting him in an iron maiden!?
Jasonâs eyes may be green, but oh, how his vision is red.
He barely hears the schoolâs alarm going off when he finally drives off-grounds, laser focused on following the road to the dot thatâs popped up on his helmet just a few streets off, sending a curt thank-you to Oracle for saving him the effort of finding the kidâs address himself - sheâs done him the courtesy of leaving everyone muted from his end, but he has little doubt theyâve all been listening to him. Heâs only surprised sheâs willing to condone the murder.
But then, of course she didnât, he thinks as he pulls into a decently shadowed alley full of bats and birds. Heâs torn between being touched that all of them came and being annoyed that he isnât already in the process of murdering the kidâs parents.Â
âNew Brother?â Orphan asks the moment the bike is off, head tilting in question from her dumpster-top perch.
A second, smaller sense of outrage bubbles up next to the first, and it is a testament to his impeccable self-control that his hand only twitches over his gun at the question.
Bruce - Batman - tries to say something, but before he can finish even just the first syllable Jasonâs head is snapping around to glare hell at him, and a low, animalistic growl practically rips itself from his throat.
He can see the way everyone tenses - subtle to anyone else, but a glaring neon sign in Jasonâs vision.Â
He curses himself for it; he asked them to be here. He specifically requested their help, and they gave it. The more of them there are involved, the faster they can help the kid into a safer environment.
But Jason came here to help the kid, not to offer him up as the next sacrifice in Batmanâs long line of child soldiers.
âYou wanna help? Great. Rule One: YOU,â he points at the bat for emphasis, âcanât adopt him.â
He chokes on whatever he was intending to say next at Orphanâs delighted clap and exclamation of ânephew!â
He wants to correct her, but⌠he doesnât.Â
Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid; Jason knows that.
He knows it more than anyone, having spent his early years there and his most recent years trying to make it better. He knows that.
But h- the kid is a meta.Â
Looking at the facts: the kid is meta.
The kid is meta whose first concern with rule breaking is punishment via torture device.
The kidâs parents are neglectful enough that he spent over a week in Gotham and they never even noticed.
The kid went to Gotham to escape his home.
Whether his parents know that he is a meta or not, it is clear to Jason that the kid needs to be Out Of That House. Yesterday.
But he also knows just how metas are treated - even the MPA can only do so much against the tides of hatred and fear.Â
And heâs seen the maps - he knows this state is one of the worse ones for metas to live in, let alone a meta child at the mercy of a foster family that has even odds of neglecting him, being just as bad as his original family, or possibly actually caring about him.
Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid, and Red Hood is far from the right person for such a job.
But Crime Alley isnât all that Gotham is, and perhaps Jason Todd could very easily decide to get an apartment in a nicer area.
He wonât lie to himself, he knows he isnât parent material, but heâll at least be a step up from what the kid is used to while he works to vet a real family to transfer him to.Â
Heâs halfway through his mental checklist of the options for the safest place for an apartment and other such logistics when heâs reminded of where he is by Oracleâs voice in his ear.
âHate to interrupt the group brooding you guys have going on over there, but I managed to dig up⌠a lot of information about the boy and his family situation.â
He notes how the others all perk up from where theyâd beenâŚstaring at him.Â
Ah, that was why it was so quiet. They were staring in disbelief when he didnât deny the nephew thing. Well. A conversation for another time.
âLay it on me,â he says to Oracle, ignoring them.
âHis name is Daniel James Fenton, goes by Danny, high grades throughout elementary and middle school until they took a steep drop at the beginning of highschool - likely related to whatever happened when his metagene activated.Â
Has one sibling, a sister named Jasmine Fenton - no middle name. She goes by Jazz. High grades across the board with no notable dips. No indication of possible metagene in any of her records or in Dannyâs, beyond the grade drop and your own first-hand experience.
Parents Jack and Madeline âMaddieâ Fenton. They have their own personal website where they describe themselves as âectobiologistsâ and as ghost hunters. The pictures in their gallery show a vast array of weapons - dubbed âectoweaponsâ - in the same chrome-green style with the name âFentonâ stamped somewhere on them. Some of the weapons are for sale on their site, advertised for defending oneself against ghosts. There are some pictures of what must be their lab, all of which look to include at least 12 different types of OSHA violation, and the image in their siteâs âaboutâ section has the whole family standing in the lab in front of what looks like a vertical Lazarus Pit.â
âWhat,â Batman says more than asks, voice tense.
âAnd judging by the staircase seen reflecting off of one of the guns in the picture, it seems that this lab is in their basement - I canât see why it wouldnât be, given they were fine with putting an enormous monstrosity of a satellite on top of their building.
There are plenty of cameras in the house itself, but for some reason all I can get from them is static. Any video or audio in the house that they donât put on their site appears to be unusable for some reason.Â
All told, there is plenty of cause to get CPS involved. If their lab safety is even half as bad as it looks and itâs in their basement itâs pretty much a sure thing that the kidsâll be taken from them.Â
Given the small-towny nature of the area itâll be best to contact someone from outside of the community for the case. Itâll move things along significantly if we have somewhere to send them.
They have an aunt, Alicia Walker, but sheâs already marked down as a ânoâ for taking them in in the event something should happen to the Fentons.Â
This leaves their godfather: Vlad Masters. An incredibly reclusive billionaire, pursued the same Paranormal Science degree as the Fentons did when they were in college, but suffered an accident that put him in the hospital for two years with an unknown illness that Masters was allowed to name âecto-acne.â Lost all contact with the Fentons until he invited them to a reunion party last fall and was named godfather three weeks later.
Masters got his wealth through a series of suspicious business deals. No one has been able to prove foul play yet, but just glancing over some of the early papers is already showing plenty of inconsistencies.
No other relatives - the Walker parents passed away some time ago, and while one of the Fentons remains, sheâs in a nursing home. And also disowned Jack. And went out of her way to disown both Jazz and Danny as soon as she heard about them.â
âGreat. Make Jason Todd a long lost cousin, set CPS on them. Red Hood is here because Danny ran away to Gotham and stuck his nose in crime alley so I tracked him down because I thought he was kidnapped in my territory, the Bats chased down Red Hood thinking he was gonna hurt the boy, CPS is there because your research turned up the potential unsafe living conditions and you overheard that the kid was gone for a week without anyone noticing - which scream neglect. Now weâre cooperating because weâre all annoyed at the parents that let their kid wander all the way to Gotham and convinced him that a torture device was a possible grounding option.â
He turns to Batman.Â
âYou can claim to have done a DNA search to find the connection, and Iâm sure you can find a reason to dismiss Masters as an option. Make sure to have them call Jason as soon as possible. Oracle-â
âAlready routing incoming calls through Gotham. Also, both of Mastersâ residences have inaccessible cameras similar to what Iâm experiencing with the Fentons. He can be dismissed under suspicion of having an OSHA nightmare in his home. Iâll see if he has his own vertical Lazarus Pit while you all work on exfiltrating the niece and nephew.âJason doesnât dignify that with a response, hopping back on his bike to follow the new route - this time actually to the Fenton household.
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Request đđźđđź ? Black widow!reader and winter soldier!Bucky! He was her teacher in the red room, where they eventually fell in love and started a secret relationship, until Hydra and Dreykov found out and separated them. Fast forward several years, Buckyâs out of recovery, reunited with Steve, and living a better life when Tony brings in a new team member. And everyoneâs excited but Buckyâs on edge and kinda wary until he learns who it is.
Itâs his lil widow, the love of his life, his soulmate. the one Hydra and the red room stole from him, the girl he kept dreaming about no matter how many times his handlers tried to wipe his memories. Just complete fluffy, smutty, love sick shit with him being a massive simp for his deadly girl. maybe building a family, getting married, drabbles of him drooling over her skills or her in the widow suit, like oh yea, I taught her that. I can imagine him being so overly protective, constantly holding her close to his chest because she was stolen away from him once, he wonât survive if that happens again.
YESSSSS God this is so cute and smutty and angsty and FLUFFY it makes my chest itch in the best way. Pls ignore what google translate may have botched. Bucky is the cutest, horny, most deadly simp here, so proud of his girl, absolutely yes.
"ne proyavlyay miloserdiya, soldat" [Show no mercy, soldier], Dreykov hissed, letting the soldier enter the red room with a single widow standing before him, not an ounce of fear in her eyes. The soldier grunted, hitting the button that locked the door that kept her from escaping before lunging forward, testing her agility after personally training her himself.
She leapt over him with ease, bracing her hands on his wide shoulders and landing swiftly behind him and swiping her leg under him to knock him to the floor, straddling him immediately after. He grasped her hands in his, rolling over till she was pinned under his large mass with her wrists held together above her head in his metal hand.
"You've learned well kotenok" His voice was husky behind the mask, blue eyes sparkling while she huffed, rolling her eyes.
"Nespravedlivo, kogda ty takoy bol'shoy, soldat" [Not fair when you're so large, soldier]. She gasped feeling him harden on top of her, his rough uniform doing nothing to hide what he was feeling for her, slotted between her thighs.
"Nespravedlivo, kogda ty takoy krasivyy, kotonok" [Not fair when you're so pretty, kitten]. He climbed off her, allowing her to get into position before attacking again, relentlessly throwing punches and blocking them till she nearly collapsed. They retreated to stand at attention at the sound of the doors hissing open, indicating training was over. The soldier grunted a nod as Dreykov walked in, assessing the widow, a sinister smile plastered on his face seeing both of his assets worn but still at their strongest.
He sent them off to their cells, confident that the fear he'd instilled in his captives would be enough to ensure they stayed in line, not realizing his punishments would only go so far.
It wasn't enough to stop the charming young man from Brooklyn who still lived in his most feared asset.
"Did I hurt you baby" The soldier whispered, kissing her bruised knuckles softly after sneaking into her cell, pulling her into his arms.
"You could never" She smiled, melting into his embrace. She never intended on falling in love with the soldier but here she was, feeling his gentle hands wander, leaning up to kiss his soft, pink lips. They were playing a dangerous game but it was to stop now.
He loved her.
She loved him.
-
"Wipe him" The hydra agent ordered while the soldier gripped onto the chair, gritting his teeth while sharp burning spread through his body, frying his brain. The widow dug her nails into her palms, resolve slowly crumbling seeing the love of her life tortured, unable to hold back anymore.
"Stop!" She finally broke, unable to watch any longer, gasping at the sinister smile Dreykov gave her, ordering his men to grab her before increasing the voltage.
"My, my, does it hurt you when we hurt him" Dreykov sneered, turning up the dial, Bucky's screams tearing her apart on the inside.
"Don't-AH-JAMES" A hydra soldier gripped her hair, yanking her back before she could go to him, shackles binding her hands together, dragging her away.
"kotenok" [kitten] The soldier sadly whispered, unheard by her, her kicking and screaming form blurry from his unshed tears. He screamed in pain as another shock ripped through his veins before the world went black.
He never saw her again.
-
Bucky gasped, sucking in a deep breath of air, his chest heaving from the dream he'd just had, sweat covering his chest, dripping from his forehead.
It was the same thing almost every night.
His mind replaying the same thing over and over again; training with her in the red room, the way she felt under him, the way he'd cuddle and make love to her afterwards without a soul knowing. He didn't plan on falling for the woman he had to train to be a killer but he didn't stand a chance the day she'd knocked him down with a knife pressed to his neck seconds later. He could have married her then and there.
He slumped back against his pillow, running a hand over his face, groaning in frustration.
In the several years, he'd slowly managed to get his life back together. He was apart of the team and living at the compound with Steve and the others. He was no longer controlled by trigger words, he had been forgiven by the government, he was starting to recover from all the trauma he'd endured. His nightmares were less frequent, slowly learning to forgive himself for the things he'd been forced to do under Hydras control.
The only thing he never got over was her.
She still lived in his dreams. Still owned his heart. That was his girl and she was torn away by the very people that had taken everything else from him too. No amount of wiping or torture took her away. His handler tried his hardest, shocking him till his nose bled and his veins nearly burnt to bits but her name would fall from his lips as he lay nearly unconscious.
His sweet widow.
Bucky glanced at the faint light starting to stream through the curtains, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed to get up instead of attempting to sleep for 5 more minutes. He threw on a hoodie and some joggers, making his way to the gym to punch his feelings away as usual. He didn't stop till his knuckles split, ignoring the sting, instead thinking about how he'd kiss her soft hands after he'd train her, bandaging them up when no one was looking.
The hot water from the shower did little to ease the tension in his muscles as he made his way to the kitchen next, plopping onto a stool with a cup of coffee. He was just about to try and relax with his coffee until Steve popped his head in with a grin.
"There you are! Tony was looking for you, we're all heading up now!" Bucky frowned in confusion while Steve grabbed his own mug, filling his cup.
"Why are we having a meeting" Bucky questioned, not willing to get up from his seat, his mind still preoccupied.
"He told you he scouted someone to join the team"
"I remember Tony going on about some new member" Bucky mumbled, not in the mood to meet new people, his anxiety only growing further. "That's today?"
Steve nodded, finishing up the last of his coffee while the brunette stayed glued to the stool.
"Buck, you coming?" Steve turned back to see a frowning Bucky, reluctantly trudging behind the captain while the others excitedly also made their way upstairs to the conference area.
"I heard Tony saying the new agent is scary as shit. Apparently he got his ass handed to him when he tried to test her and he was wearing his suit" Sam snorted while Nat smiled with excitement.
"Finally someone worth sparring with" The redhead nudged him while he shook his head.
"I'm serious! She's deadly deadly. I looked over her file, she's killed more people than you and Clint combined and half of those were hand to hand combat"
"What was the other half"
"Sniper. Like Barnes" Sam nodded to Bucky who was still disconnected from the others, his knee bouncing impatiently.
"We're lucky she's on our side" Steve mused, taking a glance of the file that sat on the table. There was no name or picture to go with it but it had a skillset record nearly put his to shame. "Jesus"
"You good?" Sam whispered to Bucky, noticing he was more closed off than usual, getting a tightlipped grimace like smile in return. Steve sat near the front, straightening himself up while the rest quietened down, hearing the sound of Tony speaking to someone as they approached the room. The billionaire opened the door, letting in the new team member first before entering himself with a large smile on his face.
"Everyone, this is-
"Y/n?" Bucky gasped, shoot up from his seat before Tony could finish, the other sharing confused glances between each other, watching the new team member and Bucky freeze.
"Wait, Barnes, you know-
"Malyshka, eto pravda ty?" [Babygirl, is it really you?] Bucky gasped, his heart hammering against his chest, tears already threatening to spill out. "kotenok, skazhi mne, pozhaluysta, chto eto ty" [kitten, please tell me its you]
"Hold up, he can still speak Russian?" Sam hissed to Steve who hadn't moved, mouth gaping, eyes wide.
"James!" You darted across the room to meet Bucky half way, his strong arms catching and lifting you up with ease as your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. "moy soldat. YA zdes', moy malysh" [my soldier. I'm here my babyboy]
"It's really you" He whispered against your hair, breathing in your soft scent, eyes squeezed shut with tears streaming down his face, "My baby" He cradled you tightly, refusing to set you down while you buried your face into the crook of his neck, drowning out the rest of the world. After you were torn apart from him, you had been locked up in an isolated cell, only let out for select missions Dreykov send you on. You wanted to find your soldier, your James, but you never did with Hydra keeping him under their control.
Now you finally had him again.
"Ahem, as I was saying- This is y/n" Tony addressed the rest of the team, just as surprised as the rest of them with all eyes on Bucky especially. "She'll be joining us once Barnes puts her down"
"Never" Bucky finally pulled away, still holding onto you, his nose nudging against yours, "M'never putting her down, never, you hear me babygirl?" He pressed his lips onto yours, shamelessly kissing you hard, ignoring the whistles that filled the room, only pulling away for air. You let out a shy giggle as he set you back on your feet, his hand wrapped around your waist.
"I'd continue to introduce her but I think tinman knows her better" Tony snorted, throwing his hands up before taking a seat, all eyes now watching two of you while Bucky blushed, unable to wipe the smile of his face, cupping your face to press another kiss to your lips.
"This is y/n" Bucky finally let you go, taking you to the front of the conference room, now proudly showing you off to the other, "She was a widow with Hyrda, handpicked by Dreykov" Bucky sucked in a breath before continuing, giving your hand a squeeze "I trained her in the red room myself when I was still the winter soldier. That's when I fell in love with her" The last part was a whisper, not missed by the team with how lovesick Bucky looked.
"I'm sorry, you trained her? Jesus, no wonder she's deadly" Sam shook his head, now understanding why your file was so impressive. You were already gifted when you were picked, coupled with the fact that you were trained and conditioned by the soldier himself.
"She's fuckin' deadly, alright" Bucky's voice was nearly breathless, his baby blues intently gazing into your eyes. "You should see her with a knife"
That's when I fell in love with you.
"So what happened with you two" Nat prodded, looking at you two with heart eyes which was a rare sight but her heart melted at how soft Bucky was, struggling to keep his hands to himself. He constantly nuzzled into your neck, his large form practically swallowing you whole as he clung onto you like a child.
"They found out we were together so they took me from him" You gave her a sad smile, feeling Bucky hug you tighter; you could have sworn you heard him whimper. "I tried to find him for years but I couldn't"
"Hydra tried to wipe my memories but it never worked. Couldn't forget her" Bucky kissed the top of your head, not realizing his bestfriend was trying to subtly wipe his eyes.
"I was going to have everyone introduce themselves but I think these two have some catching up to do so let's move this meeting over" Tony clapped his hands while everyone else nodded in agreement, leaving you and Bucky alone for some privacy.
"I missed you so much, you have no idea, I-I tried to find you but I just- I could barely function, I'm sorry doll-" Your lips cut off Bucky's rambling, cupping his scruffy face firmly in your hands.
"You have nothing to be sorry about baby, it's not your fault"
"I-I know you just got here and-sweets I don't want to rush anything but-" Bucky's hand gripped your waist while he tried to compose himself, he didn't want to pressure you into anything. "I need you closer baby"
"Take me, soldat" You whispered, not giving him any room to second guess as he hauled you up in his arms, taking you straight to his room. Clothes were off in an instant between frantic and desperate kisses. Bucky didn't rush a thing as soon as he had you naked in his bed, pulling the sheets over you both, rolling over to cuddle instead.
"This is all I wanted" He whispered against your shoulder, kissing your skin, "To have my girl with me again"
"I love you Jamie" You kissed his bare chest, hitching your leg over his waist, his hard length pressing against your soaked cunt. He could feel his tip weeping feeling your soft body pressed against his, still looking just as beautiful, if not more now, from when he'd first met you.
"Prettiest widow" He growled, his wandering hands becoming less wholesome as they moved to your hips, pulling you to press against his erection harder. You moaned feeling him starting to hump your pussy while innocently kisses down your neck, smirking at how he was both sweet and sinful at the same time, just as before. "kotenok, ty mne nuzhen" [Kitten, I need you]
You remembered all the times he'd snuck into your cell for a few cuddles, which always ended up with his hand slammed over your mouth while he railed you with his cock.
"You feel how hard I am for you baby? Mmph, this is all for you, doll" He bit his lip, eyes locked with yours, rolling on top of you, slotting his wide body between your legs, still rutting his hips. "Can I make love to you baby, please" He sounded desperate, dropping his forehead to press against yours, hands coming to pin you against the bed.
"M'yours Jamie" You nodded, spreading your legs wider, not bothering with having prep you, needing him inside you more than anything else. You gasped feeling his thick cockhead rub through your folds before he breeched your hole, stretching you.
"Soldat!" You moaned, your back arching off the bed, the name rolling of your tongue as it had so many times before, your nails digging into his shoulders as he buried himself to the hilt.
"Take your soldat's cock, kotenok" Bucky growled, only giving you a second to adjust before he started to move with slow, deep strokes. "Lemme make love to my babygirl, ya tak sil'no tebya lyublyu" [I love you so much]
After Bucky had been rescued, he had no reason to speak Russian, letting the others think it'd been wiped away just like the words that controlled him. Around you, it rolled off his tongue with ease, your pussy dripping each time he whispered in your ear. Your eyes rolled back feeling him hit that spongy spot deep in your pussy, crying out with the powerful, deliberate snaps of his hips.
"M'I making you feel good baby?" He asked, kissing you sweetly, alternating between the sweetheart and heartbreaker he was, looking at you with soft puppy eyes while his cock grew harder watching your face twist with pleasure. His jaw was slack, thrusting with purpose, moving his hips to roll and let you feel every inch of him filling you up, "You look gorgeous with my cock in you angel, wish you could see how pretty you are, so beautiful like this"
"Oh god James! P-please-m'so close-dont-don-t stop" Your moans grew more salacious, unable to say much else, eyes shutting out of pleasure feeling his hand coming down to rub your swollen clit.
"I know baby, I know, you need me to rub this pretty button, Remember the first time I touched you there pretty girl? How badly you wanted to scream, how much you squirted all over me? Remember when we first made love? First time I tasted you? Remember how shy you were when I spread your legs open and nursed off that little button. How you turned into a slutty kitten, riding and humping my face after? Know your needy little clit loves it, m'gonna rub you till you're screaming"
"Buckyyy" You whined, your face feeling hot at the memory, remembering his growls from under you, turning around to find him jerking his cock faster while he licked and sucked your pussy, cum already painting his abs from cumming once, working to a second orgasm. He'd sealed his lips around your clit, stuffing his mask in your mouth to keep you from alerting the guards.
"Baby, c'mon open your eyes, look at me" Bucky nipped your jaw, his cold hand coming to grasp your cheeks, blue eyes staring into your soul as you opened your eyes, "Don't you dare close them baby, keep em' open when I'm fuckin' you, shit, m'gonna cum for you doll"
"B-Bucky!" You cried, struggling to hold off any longer, your juices soaked him as you started to clench and squeeze his cock, tears nearly streaming down your face.
"Scream all you want baby, don't have to hide those pretty moans ever again" He fucked you through your orgasm, his own balls getting tighter with each thrust, precum mixing with your arousal, dripping onto the sheets, "Thats-that-s it baby, m'gonna cum so hard for you, fill you up, you're mine doll, you're fuckin' MINE"
Bucky's hand flew to the headboard, pounding you into the mattress, moaning loudly, letting the wood splinter under his grip as he came, pumping you full of his seed.
"FUCK y/n" He gasped, collapsing on you, panting, burying his face into your breasts as he always did, turning into a needy baby as if he didn't rail your soul. You giggled, tracing your hand down his spine making his shiver, whining when you clenched around his sensitive, soft cock.
"My soldat" You whispered, carding your fingers through his hair, letting him latch onto your nipple, needily sucking for comfort. No matter how big, bad and scary he was, he always melted into a puddle for you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your sweet peaked nipple against his tongue.
"Never letting you go again" He whispered before falling asleep on your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you. "ty moya rodstvennaya dusha, malyshka" [you're my soul mate, babygirl]
"YA by proshel cherez vse eto snova tol'ko radi tebya, malysh" [I'd go through it all again just for you baby boy] you whispered, closing your eyes in the safety of his hold, meaning each of your words. You'd go through everything a thousand times over if it meant you'd have your Bucky back in your arms. Bucky sniffled, curling up with you, spending the rest of the day alternating between speaking sweet words and making you moan and cry over his cock until you couldn't move any longer. For the first time, he slept peacefully, not stirring once.
-
Ever since you'd come back, Bucky had turned into the biggest simp, alternating between acting like a menace and a complete lovesick puppy with no in between. It was worse when you were on the field, almost leading to Tony refusing to let you both go on missions at the same time.
"Oh god" Bucky groaned, seeing you step out in your sleek suit, the dark material clinging to your body, weapons strapped along your hips. You threw him a wink before running off to kick ass, his focus solely on you.
"Jesus Christ" He nearly moaned seeing you land a kick to an attacker before throwing you knife across the room, the blade landing perfectly between your targets eyebrows. "Baby, you're sexy"
"For fucks Sake Barnes, did you forget we can all hear you" Tony's exasperated voice crackled through, this not being the first time the soldier was distracted watching you fight. Sam and Steve snickered through the coms while Bucky shameless shrugged, still biting his lip, watching you move with ease.
"Have you seen my girl, Stark" Bucky sassed back, walking over bodies to grab you by your ass, squeezing it and smashing his lips against yours.
"Are you two fucking kissing?!" Tony sighed, hearing the sound of soft moans and smacking, "I'm putting you on a fucking leash, I'm getting you fixed Barnes"
"My naughty soldat" You giggled, pulling away, nipping your boyfriends pouty lip while he shook his head.
"Gonna be the death of me, pretty girl"
"You're both gonna be the death of all of us" Tony deadpanned, unable to understand how there was a man out there that was more horny and flirty than him. "I'm having Barnes neutered, for fucks sake I can see you drooling from over here"
-
Bucky was even worse watching you display your skills, his workout long forgotten while you sparred with Steve.
"Where the fuck did you learn that" Steve groaned while you giggled, holding your hand out to help him up while Bucky watched from the side with a cocky smirk.
"I taught her that" He threw you a wink, not so subtly adjusting his sweats.
"Of course you did" Steve huffed, surprised to find bruises on his body from where you'd hit him. "Jesus punk" He blushed heavily seeing his bestfriends raging hard on, scrambling away from the gym, knowing exactly what would come next.
The loud moans he heard moments later made him shake his head, happy he got out of there unlike the last time he saw the warning signs of a feral Bucky.
Aside from being more in love with you than ever, Bucky was also equally protective over you. He'd hug you with such care, always holding your head to his chest, his large arms covering you from the rest of the world, constantly fearing that even if he had you now, someone would come and take you away.
When he finally asked you to marry him, he paused several times, blinking through tears while down on one knee, your hand wiping his cheek, saying yes before he could even finish. The compound was transformed with flowers, candles with a small intimate wedding in the garden.
Steve and Sam stood by Bucky's side while Nat walked with you, your sweet soon to be husband biting back tears seeing his dream girl in her dress, the life he'd always imagine finally becoming a reality. When Tony pronounced you husband and wife, Bucky didn't stop kissing you till he nearly passed out, not a single dry eye surrounding you as he whisked you up in his arms.
-
Bucky felt a strong wave of emotion watching you flit around the kitchen, making his way over and wrapping his arms from behind, tucking his face into your neck. You blinked, feeling tears wet your skin, pulling away to find your husband sniffling.
"Baby, what's gotten into you" You cooed with concern, wiping away the tears that collected along his lashes, kissing his reddened nose. "Is everything okay?"
"Just-m'scared to lose you again" Bucky whispered, his hand coming to protectively wrap around your growing belly; you weren't showing much yet but he could still feel the little baby bump. "I can't loose you again angel, I can't go through that again"
"It won't happen Jamie" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders while he picked you up, setting you onto the counter before hiding against your neck again, hugging you tightly. "What's wrong baby, what's gotten you so scared"
"Can't believe I got you back. I got to marry my dream girl. We're starting a family, you're giving me a baby, I-it feels unreal. M'scared I'm gonna wake up and you'll-" He bit his lip, shuddering at the very thought, "You'll be gone"
"Baby boy look at me" You held his face again, making him look at you, "Would you ever let anyone take me from you again?"
Bucky looked horrifying, francially shaking his head, he'd burn the world to ashes before he let that happen.
"Never. Never angel, no one is taking you or our baby from me" He stated firmly while you hummed.
"See? I'll be just fine. I have my soldat" You whispered, melting against his chest. "No one can hurt me when I have my soldat"
Bucky finally relaxed, carrying you off to bed, his metal arm protecting your belly as he pulled the covers over you both. No one would ever take his little widow away again.
#bucky x widow reader#bucky x reader#bucky x smut#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x f reader#bucky x f reder#bucky x fluff#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fanmix#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fandom#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fics#bucky fanfic#bucky fanart#bucky barnes smut#bucky smut#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x black widow reader#bucky x black widow reader
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HEADCANNONS TEEN! READER LEARNING HOW TO DRIVE
various x gn! teen reader
LUCIFER
⢠Tried to teach you how to drive only for you to drive into a wall.
⢠Pretty much he has a helmet on with body armor and his seltbelt on saying sum,
"safety first!"đ¤
⢠He would react calm to you driving ike a bat from hell as he gives you tips. Only for you to use the tips horribly.
⢠He revoked your driving license and privileges.
CHARLIE
⢠She asked you to go get some stuff for her only for you to ram the car into the hotel upstairs.
⢠HOW THE FUCK DID YOU EVEN GET UP THERE?!
⢠She screamed out of shock but calmed down seeing your gremlin ass smile as you hopped out the car holding out whatever she wanted you to get for her.
⢠She also revoked your driving privileges and license. She doesn't want anyone hurt or yourself.
VAGGIE
⢠She already revoked it the moment you drove into an old demon lady.
⢠She's not risking SHIT!
⢠She tried to help you again but you pressed the gas so hard you almost flew out the driving seat.
⢠So yeah she revoked ya shit, even the keys.
ALASTOR
⢠Absolutely NO.
⢠He's not stepping foot into your car.
⢠He might as well slash your tire with a sick smile cause he doesn't trust you driving at fucking all.
⢠Literally just teleports you to the places you want. He ain't risking nothing if he wants to live from your terrible driving.
HUSK
⢠He was drunk, and you were sober. Next thing this fucker woke up to was you inside of a shop's wall chuckling nervously...
⢠"What in the fu-"
⢠You guys had to walk to the hotel handing the keys to Charlie who is just happy you and husk are okay.
⢠Husk never trusted you to be his Uber.
ANGEL DUST
⢠Lord have mercy
Angel better pray you don't come across Valentino because your driving is so bad to the point you accidentally almost hit Valentino.
⢠Angel was in the car on his phone scrolling through hellgram (instagram) when he heard you cuss loudly and swerve almost hitting his boss Valentino.
⢠You speeded the fuck out of there while
Angel's eyes were wide as a pizza. Bro hoped Valentino didn't know who was in the car. But you chuckled a little.
⢠"I kinda wished I ran that motherfucker over."
⢠Angel nodded chuckling as he sits properly in the passenger seat.
ADAM
⢠This fucker literally was the driver...he rammed into your apartment as you screamed shock.
⢠"SUP BITCHHH!"
⢠Literally you forced him to fix your wall as he mumbles cuss words under his breath.
⢠But if you are a worse driver than him. He's gripping the fuck out his seat while either screaming of fun or fear.
PENTIOUS
⢠He passed out scared.
⢠YOU CANT TELL ME HE WOULDN'T PASS
OUT
⢠He is such a precious boy holding onto the car door to the point his hands are sweaty for holding it for so long.
⢠His egg boiz are having a blast in the background as they jump in the backseat while you do this shit like Tokyo drift. Like shiiit you might as well join fast and furious.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel adam x reader#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x child reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin x you#hazbin angel dust#hazbin lucifer#hazbin husk#hazbin vaggie#hazbin charlie#child reader#teen reader
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The way each pov in the locked tomb series is from the view point of an unreliable narrator drives me crazy in the best way.
Gideon is an unreliable narrator because itâs so dependent on her first impression of a person. For instance Ianthe, Coronabeth, Palamedes and Camilla compared to everything we learn later. Even her viewing of Harrowhark feels so jarring compared to Harrowâs view of herself in htn. She also knows very little about necromancy so everything feels less like science and more like something out of her magazines.
Then we have Harrow. Who literally has gaslit herself and trying damn hard to gaslight the audience that the last book never happened. Everything is a lot less black and white compared to GTN but her shades of grey still feel muddy. her depression seeps through every interaction she has that by the time it switches back to Gideonâs pov I literally felt like I had whiplash.
in NTN we have the John chapters and Nona.
Nona for her part seems like she seeâs everything in black and white but as we see her mentally mature instead of seeing just shades of grey she seeâs everything in vivid color. She loves everyone the good and the bad. Sheâs an unreliable narrator in the sense that because she loves Cam, Pal, Phyrra and Corona in a black and white fashion in the beginning she does not acknowledge their flaws in their choices. Itâs only when sheâs emotionally matured that she can see everyone she loves for the three dimensional people they are.
John for his part is so unwilling to forgive that we see that it doesnât stop at B.O.E or the trillionares it extends to the unwillingness to forgive himself for a situation that I genuinely think no one could have handled. He refuses to look at himself for what he is and what he was in that moment, a scared man with to much power. (Unlike the Lyctors who were quite on quote âplaying with the reflection of stars in a puddle and thinking itâs space.â Heâs thrown into space and rapid fire has to learn how to tread or die drowning.) He lies because he doesnât want to appear insane or weak or horrible not realizing that by doing that heâs removing the sympathetic parts of himself. Like Mercy and Augustine said they most likely would have forgiven him if he had just told them he fucked up. His point of view is so similar to Gideons black and white thinking that it works so well contrasted with Nonaâs pov.
I canât freaking wait for Alecto
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Learn Your Lesson
Kinktober Day 6: Bondage
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, bondage, dom!miguel, unprotected piv, stoplight system established, degradation, punishment with sex, oral and fingering (f!recieving), dirty talk because i can't help myself, overstimulation, miguel being hot angry and feral (w/c: 1.1K)
A/N: teehee dom Miguel make brain go brrr (For this month, I am using this list from flightlessangelwings!)
You'd fucked yourself over on the last mission, disobeying Miguelâs direct orders, running straight into the line of fire. Youâd gotten shot in the process, and though youâd healed just fine, Miguel hasnât let you forget it. He hasnât forgotten that you have to be punished for it.
Heâs got you at his mercy, just how he likes it. Just how you like it, though youâll never admit it to him, the cocky bastard.
Your arms ache with how theyâve been forced above you, Miguelâs webs pinning you to the wall, helpless and free to use just as he likes. Which apparently means making you cum until you cry, over and over, even as you beg him for mercy. His knees must hurt, they must, with how long heâs spent kneeling on the hard wooden floor, but itâs like he doesnât care.
His claws dig into your thighs, not breaking the skin, but sending sparks of pain along your body. And God, the little bit of pain is nothing like the violent pleasure that rips through your body. He licks into your pussy like heâs starving for it, shoving his tongue as far as he can inside you. Itâs not enough, itâs clear that itâs not enough for him as he snarls, hiking one of your thighs over his shoulder, spreading you wider for him as he eats your cunt desperately.
Thereâs nothing you can do but take it, unable to escape, wrap your fingers into his hair, anything.Â
âMiguel, fuck, please,â you whine as he licks into you, his nose digging into your clit. You donât know if heâs ever going to stop at this point. Youâre so wet, your slick and his spit smeared all over the insides of your thighs, all over his mouth. You feel him smile between your legs, and you want to smack him.
He takes a hand off your thigh to sink two deliciously thick fingers into your pussy, stretching you out as he gazes up at you. Fuck, heâs pretty. His hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat and your cum, his pupils blown wide as he pants between your thighs.
âWhat do you need, hermosa?â He rasps beneath you, working his fingers into you so deep, so perfect. His hands are so thick, so big, you wonder how you ever lived without them.
âFuck me,â you gasp, your hips grinding into his hand. âPlease fuck me, oh shit-â He manages to find the perfect and to grind the tips of his fingers into your g-spot, and your vision goes blurry for a moment with the pleasure of it all.Â
âOh, mi amor, not yet,â he murmurs. âYouâve got a lesson to learn, baby. Fucking disobeying me in front of everyone, throwing yourself into danger.â He pulls his fingers out of you to land a mean slap to your aching clit, and you wail. âI canât let that go, sweetheart,â he mutters, and shoves a third finger inside of you along with the first two, stretching you so fucking wide.Â
He leans forward, sealing your clit between his lips and sucking, and you can only gasp, not making a sound, as you cum again. You grind into his face as much as you can in this position, practically smothering him in your pussy as you ride it out. Miguel moans like he fucking loves it, playing with your clit with his tongue, his fingers pounding into your pussy at a near furious pace.
Your wrists pull fruitlessly at the webs binding them together, but Miguel doesnât let up. Itâs like he canât, drowning himself between your legs.
Heâs talking, muffled into your skin, but you can hear him, little gasps of âtastes so fucking good,â and âfuck, sheâs clenching so fucking tight for me.â Whether heâs talking to you or to himself, youâre not really sure.
âFuck me, please, please, fuck me,â you babble, frantic for it. You hardly feel human anymore, your body trembling against the wall, desperate for him to finally get up off the fucking floor and fuck you like only he can.
And finally, finally, itâs like Miguel hears you. He snarls through his fangs, his eyes going red around the edges, as he rises off the ground. He towers over you, even as youâre lifted off the ground by his webs, every bit the predator everyone believes him to be.Â
It makes your pussy gush between your thighs.Â
He pulls your thighs around his hips with clawed hands, yanking you forward onto his thick cock. He slides in so easily, your cunt practically sucking him in. He hammers into you without remorse, without mercy, and you canât help how hot tears begin to fall down your cheeks at his onslaught.
âFucking. Needy. Slut.â He snarls it through his fangs, punctuating each word with a violent thrust that has you gasping for air. âCanât even take your fucking punishment like a good girl, begging me to fuck you like a whore.â
You wish that you could claw at his back, pull him into a kiss, but thereâs nothing you can do. You can only let out choked moans as Miguel fucks you like a monster, using you like a toy, the pull in your arms making you feel like youâre a livewire, strung up and electrified.
He drives into your g-spot like a man possessed, making your head spin and your vision swim with overwhelmed tears. âWeâre not done, baby, do you hear me?â He murmurs into your ear. âIâm going to fill this needy pussy up, just like you wanted.â You keen, nodding frantically, and Miguel chuckles, dark with promise. âAnd then Iâll get right back down between your legs, and eat this cunt until youâre begging me to stop. Youâre going to learn your goddamn place.â
Itâs so overwhelming, heâs so overwhelming, and you canât fucking take it anymore. Your mouth gapes open, soundless, your eyes clenching shut as you clench and gush around his cock.
A sick sense of victory runs through your veins though, when Miguel groans, tucking his head into your neck as his hips still, filling you up so fucking perfect. You quake against him, held against his strong, warm body.
He presses a gentle kiss to your throat. âWhatâs your color, mi amor?â He whispers softly, and you feel your mind come back to you, just a little bit, with the question.
âGreen,â you murmur, and you can feel Miguelâs feral grin as he pulls back to look at you, pressing his mouth to yours and kissing the breath from your lungs. You try to chase his lips as he pulls away, sinking to his knees all over again.
âYou still have a lesson to learn, hermosa.â
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