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greatrunner · 1 year ago

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"Demon Commander! Lanfear's Fierce Attack!"

Okay, I lied, and watched the first four episodes of season two instead of going to sleep for work... the week before last.

Things I wasn't expecting:

Mat being recast with some blockhead instead of keeping the guy who looks like a discount "That Actor from the Umbrella Academy"? What gives?

Team Red has a son, and not a side-piece. The show is trying really, really hard not to let her fall into the generic Foe Yay, and I can appreciate that.

There's a whole group of people with nasty fingernail hygrine, big into slavery. That's... unfortunate.

Moraine's arc at the moment is eating dirt from all the people she was less than kind or empathetic to. I kinda love it all while feeling bad for her.

Her sister felt abandoned and therefore disowned her. She gave Moraine the opportunity to just talk and reconnoiter with her, but when it was apparent that she was just gonna do as she pleased and potentially threatened the life she built, she pulled rank.

Despite giving her space, and dealing with the loss of connection, Lan tries to remain Moraine's partner, and gets a taste of the behavior the Ronin Warriors had to deal with when Moraine wasn't being forthright or outright lying to them. The clinch, though, was Moraine telling Lan he was just her jobber, not her equal.

And it's hard to feel bad for him in that moment, because, when it wasn't him on the receiving end of her shadiness, he never called her on it in way that wasn't half-hearted, or making excuses. And without Moraine to play jobber to, Lan as a character is probably less interesting than he was as the bodyguard.

Like, I can definitely see him becoming an stronger character (he's got a backstory with potential), but as it stands, it feels like the story is just keeping him on pause until it's time to throw the band back together. And then what? Awkward silence and some apologies that won't actually be apologies?

Lan, and the other Warders (and their girlfriend, Team Green) underline just how not interesting I find the whole "bond" storytelling. There's a lot telling you about the bond, how it transcends all normal romantic or platonic relationships. But the showing aspect of it all just makes it look like a normal relationship, or a less interesting version of The Bodyguard without one iota of that Costner/Huston chemistry.

Considering Moraine and Lan's dynamic, it's hard not see it as "Master and Servant" (esp. with the racial dynamics at play). To that end, the unfortunate and racist implications already at play in the series are at their worst within the Warder/Channeler dynamic.

The discussion between Lan and that non-malicious Black guy reinforces the idea that they weren't "equals" to their partners ("We're here to remind them they're not Gods!"). It's just... not great.

Again, all of this sounds exactly like something a white dude would come up with when creating his idea of a world where women have the 'most power' and guys who share that same position, are driven mad. Amazon Prime just made it worse with their spin on the Colorblind casting wheel. Like, sheesh.

Beyond Lan, one of my biggest problems with this series so far is maybe the lack of a dynamic between the five major leads. Allow me to regale you with examples from two Children's anime.

There's this thing anime used to, where in an ensemble series, the characters spent x-amount of episodes together before separating them. It was a proven formula that worked sometimes, and failed others.

Digimon: Digital Monsters made it as far as eight episodes before the Big Breakup. Before that each episode gave its characters a "focus episode". Ronin Warriors's break up was the following episode (one that's notorious for the sudden recasting of some of its English VA leads).

The show's story points lived and died by how much the writing could convince us that these characters cared abut enough about other to want find each other again.

In the case of Digimon, preaching the message of togetherness and teamwork makes their estrangement work to the advantage of the plot. The English dub manufacture's a tenuous familiarity with each character, but being trapped in the Digital World forces them to actually work together.

Both and after the separation, their circumstances demand that they get to know each other along the way. Not just for the benefit of the audience, but to the benefit of all seven (then eight) kids and their monster companions.

Ronin Warriors, on the other hand, has always been more about the individual journey and their relationship to the mystical armor (born from the corpse of their enemy, Talpa IIRC. It's been 10 years since I watched it last ;_;).

The show also didn't hide the fact that Ryō, Rowen, Cye, Kento, and Sage didn't know each other from Adam. Hell, it really doesn't even go into the origin story of how they got their armor like Sailor Moon did with the Sailor Scouts their and transformation wands.

From the jump, the boys know more than the audience. Talpa's the bad guy, the Netherrealm is something they have to protect the world (but mostly Japan) from. Their mentor is the Ancient One, a "Stupid Monk" (Talpa, derogatory) who fought Talpa eons ago.

What they're not expecting is four dudes (the Dark Warlords) with far more experience and power than themselves. They're a bunch of teenage boys who try to upstage each other and aren't interested in working together is their fatal flaw.

Ronin Warriors, however individual focused it tends to be, also features unity as a big theme of the show. Their separation and subsequent Side Questing to find each other is more about the practicalities of their job (if they don't work together than evil wins).

Their relationships were something they built along the way, right until the end of the series. It was formula that worked so well, they repeated it in some fairly subpar (and racist*) OVAs (Gaiden, Legend of the Inferno Armor*, and Message) with diminishing returns. But they're also the only time in the franchise (excluding Message) where the Ronin's feel like true friends, so go-figure.

To keep running with this comparison, Wheel of Time clearly aspires to be about a group of people. Right now, it's far more focused on the aesthetics of being an Epic Fantasy. From the start of S2 alone, there have been more new characters and more new locations thrown at the audience than a little bit. None of seems to be to the benefit of the story so much as it's to match the lore output of something like, again, Game of Thrones (which had years, film length runtimes, and more than 8 episodes) or, Grandaddy Tolkien's Legendarium.

Season one never really allowed any of the characters to actually be friends or casual acquaintances. Individual characters weren't so much given arcs as they were given archetypal roles to occupy in the "Kill the Dark Lord" Boss Rush.

In principle, Wheel of Time Ronin Warrior'ing Individual storylines isn't a bad thing, but it ain't working what little ensemble dynamics that show built. It just hopes you buy all these people are friends and miss each other. Because Mat, his abandonment of the group, and how little he impacts the plot, kinda says it doesn't work. Not for me.

Rand's character feels like he's in a holding pattern until the story finally reaches a point to where the madness-included powers are necessary. It's kinda like watching Anakin Skywalker if he wasn't a self-involved jerk who leapt at every chance to avoid accountability, blame other people, and committing to the principles of his job.

Rand is allowed to focus on someone other than his not-girlfriend, namely himself. I feel like the buzz cut drives that home. No more Fantasy Romance Guy, he's in his Vader era. Even his relationship with the tavern owner is way more engaging.

Nynaeve's story arc is definitely more about the individual than it is the group. Her whole thing is that she doesn't consider herself, and mammy's everybody. She doesn't trust anybody and figures she is the only qualified person for the job. (I feel called out.)

Combine that deep-seated trauma and abandonment issues, and you got a story comparable to Ryō trying to learn how to master Hariel's White Inferno Armor. Or Gohan reaching SS2. A lot of false starts, and just like Rand's deal with his powers, none of that stuff is really interesting.

The moment she snaps right better pop the fuck off just like the aforementioned or I'm gonna be salty. DDOS is not fun.

The show wants to build a relationship between her and Team Red, who, not the surprise no one, is evil. I'm not against it, but I also can't really buy that Red would be that distraught over potentially losing her to a Last Crusade test when so much of their dynamic was developed off-screen. Did she really spend that much time with Mat that she couldn't dedicate time to mentoring her on the low before she actually got permissions? Sounds like Chickadee making excuses.

I need someone in this group to be the non-magic Tank, and I was ready for Nynaeve to turn her back on the white tower nonsense and return home. I really liked that story turn. It was a choice she made for herself, and not for anyone else, and hey, it even gave Lan something to do (become her House Husband, lmao). So for it to turn out to be an illusion where she got more than one Get-out-of-Jail-Free card? Disappointing.

On the flip-side, the other gal (Moraine's No. 1 Fan), and Princess Not-Killing-Eve gets stuck with the Harry Potter plot. I hate how fantasy narratives reinforce and indulge this storyline. The "Bully the Main Character into Becoming a Proficient Learner" trope with lower-than-low treatment and work around a school that doesn't pay them much respect as human beings. I've never been interested in that storytelling because it requires that the lead become an emotional doormat in a lot of situations.

This gets abruptly interrupted, of course, with Red's Heel Turn, and their subsequent enslavement. This particular story turn isn't doing the character any favors, and just feels like way to put the characters back into the Globe Trotting subplot. Nynaeve's a blockhead, but the shit that last episode pulled was embarrassing.

Perrin's storyline doesn't feel all that engaging. The show rarely checks in on Perrin in the five episodes aired, he truly feels like an afterthought. The show finally gets around to focusing on his powers as a "Wolfbrother", a guy who communicates with wolves. There's a new minor Black character who saves him from certain slavery, the Ascended Wolfbrother.

AW isn't a particularly interesting character, but he's not terrible either. He's got some good moments with Perrin with regards to mentoring him, but he's your rote "Ugh, Humanity" type characters. He exists just to tell Perrin he's "running away" from his destiny because Perrin isn't:

Just blindly going along with AW's plans

Doesn't appreciate being lied to

Doesn't appreciate his relationships diminished on account of their humanity.

Out of all the characters, Perrin's Random Enemy/Ally Encounters seems to highlight what I really don't like about most Fantasy worlds. Every character, culture, or world, begins to sound like abstract names for Football Teams, with everyone's disdain stemming from being on opposing teams.

It's clear that Wheel of Time plans on stretching much of its story out with Talpa's Evil Warlords getting the Gang Back Together to free Talpa. Instead of hyper-focusing on "that one special person who might not be who you expected" like GOT did with Jon and Arya, the audience instead will be treated with what's shaping up to be an MMO quest log.

Daughter of the Night (Lady Kayura), Father of Lies (Anubis) are two quest lines completed. I know there's lie seven of these hoes, but I guess the next couple of seasons will be about Dias, Kale, and Sekhmet.

Unless the show surprises me, which it has done plenty of, in which case... we'll see.

Forever laughing at the fact that the guy who got drunk on the Game Awards (or was that his brother), and was in A Way Out, is "The Father of Lies". But was also in Westworld as some random jobber with a tablet.

Shade, no shade. But, like how does bro keep landing these gigs?

#greatrunners meta #greatrunner watches the wheel of time #amazon prime #screenwriting #wheel of time #long post

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missyedits · 2 years ago

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Sorry I haven’t been posting the pst few days! I was moving into uni and I’ve not had much time to spare for moodboards 😅 take 3 today as consolation haha

#I love my new house though!! it’s great to be back #also got a new supervisor this year cos I reapplied #and I met him today and he was so helpful!!#lovely guy and gave me some great ideas for potential people to talk to/ideas for if I did a masters #today was good haha #missy posts #not skz

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espeon-fireheart · 3 years ago

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~•Felizmente enamorado•~

Bruno Madrigal x Male! Reader

(I got this request and I really want to do it for my male identifying readers! You guys deserve more love so I give you this as a gift! You can always request something for me to write! I’m all ears to listen and write them for you!)

It started as a crush, simple admiration and he never complained. The only Madrigal son, Bruno, had stolen his heart, and he was fine with that. It all started when he saw Bruno sitting my the centre of town all on his own.

Something about the sight tugged at [Y/n]’s heart strings and he didn’t know what it was. So he grabbed some Cocadas from his mother’s kitchen and heading off to greet him.

Noticing someone encounter him made Bruno immediately assume the worst. He thought someone had come to tyrannise his gift and the hurt he’s caused by giving prophecies or just plain observations. But when he turned his head, he was met with a smile, of a boy who offered him a treat. That was new.

“I noticed you were alone so I thought I’d come and keep you company.” [Y/n] said softly, his smile brightening when he saw Bruno take the cocada. Taking a seat beside him, the teens both took a bite of the treat in silence before Bruno spoke up.

“You don’t have to do this.” He hung his head, making [Y/n] confused. What was he talking about?

“Do what? Be nice to you? Want to talk to you?” He joked and took another bite.

“You don’t have to pity me. I understand that I’m not exactly a good person to be seen with.” Bruno said, looking to [Y/n] as he laughed softly, causing him to blush slightly.

“I’m not taking pity on you, you deserve kindness just as much as everyone else.” He chuckles and holds his hand out in greeting. “I’m [Y/n], my mama owns a treat shop nearby.” He says, introducing himself to the Madrigal son.

“B-Bruno.” He said, hesitantly taking his hand. Giving more of a shy grin, making [Y/n] laugh softly.

“It’s nice to meet you Bruno. I like your smile.”

And that’s how it began. A beautiful relationship. The teen boys met almost every day after that. And when [Y/n]’s mother was introduced to Alma, they met even more.

[Y/n] started to stand up for Bruno when he found out about what people would say about him. He felt that Bruno deserved better than that, he knew that he had so much potential to show if people gave him a chance. Especially Alma.

So when Bruno left, [Y/n] felt defeated that his love would just disappear. He knew that as they grew older, the expectation of greatness and the judgement that came with it became worse, which was a burden for Bruno.

It just hurt that the man he fell for and the man he tried to help, felt he wasn’t safe anymore. So [Y/n] blamed himself.

Though as years went by, he stayed close with the Madrigal’s helping his mother and Julieta in the kitchen as well as help the next generation.

When Bruno returned, it was a flood of emotions for everyone. [Y/n] was left speechless, merely enveloping Bruno in a hug. The physical contact being enough to bring them both to tears.

After they managed to seperate from the hug, Bruno gave his love a smile to which [Y/n] reciprocated with a laugh.

[Y/n] was later introduced to his rats. Which was unexpected but not unwelcome. Instead, he made a joke about how I they were like their children now.

(It wasn’t really a joke, seeing as Bruno actually loved the idea.)

#Give the Gays rat children I say!#bruno madrigal #male reader #bruno madrigal x reader #encanto fic #encanto bruno #this man needs way more love than he's being given!#gender neutral y/n #male y/n

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queen-haq · 3 years ago

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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 1

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to any kind of emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

~~~~~~

You met Billy Russo at an industry conference two years ago. While you didn’t know much about military security at that time, your specialty was online security and both of you ended up attending a lot of the same events. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, magnetic and a total flirt, and it was obvious he was aware of his good looks and used it to his benefit. You didn’t sleep with him during the conference. Something told you his dance card was already full every night. So, instead, you exchanged contact information and left it at that.

A year later you were hired as a consultant for one of Anvil’s direct competitors and moved to New York City. When Billy called you to meet for drinks, you knew exactly what he was up to. You were no fool. He wanted information on your employer and thought he could charm you into spilling secrets. You told him it wouldn’t work over a second drink, and he simply laughed.

You didn’t fuck him until a month later. The official reason for the delay was conflicting schedules but mostly it was due to insecurity on your part. To the outside world you were attractive in the kind of way that snuck up on people. You weren’t the type to turn heads, like Billy was, and your fucked up childhood had ensured you didn’t let anyone in easily. It wasn’t until a pep talk from your best friend, Davina, about enjoying Billy Russo for what he was – a fun time and nothing more - did you finally decide to take the leap.

Fucking Billy had been unlike anything you’d experienced before. You’d had sex before of course, but not the kind of sex that made you lose all of your inhibitions and scream and come for hours. Billy knew how to coax you out of your shell and demand things from him you’d never even knew you wanted. You fucked him in your apartment, his penthouse, the underground parking lot, in his car and that was all within the first week. He had opened up a whole new world for you and you were willing to try anything and do anything he wanted. After that first night together, all the walls you’d built around your heart collapsed. Your best friend warned you repeatedly that great sex made people confuse lust for love, that she was worried you were falling for Billy, but you told her you were an adult and could handle yourself.

Of course that had been bullshit.

It had been been almost a year now since you and Billy were sleeping together and you had no idea where you stood with him. You didn’t even know if he was fucking other women, though a part of you suspected he was. If he was with you two nights a week that left five other nights to be with someone else. It clawed at you, knowing you weren’t enough for him. It heightened all of your insecurities, made you believe that you were worthless and ugly just like your abusive father used to scream at you. Of course you’d never tell Billy that. The minute he suspected you were getting attached to him emotionally he’d bolt, he’d already warned you of that. So you kept your thoughts to yourself and let your pain eat away at your insides when he wasn’t with you.

At least that had been the plan until you saw him on a date with Madani.

You were at a restaurant with some of your coworkers, enjoying happy hour, when you got up to use the bathroom and spotted Billy sitting in the other corner of the room. The breath rushed out of your lungs, your knees felt weak. They were enraptured with each other, legs intertwined, heads close, a true couple. You knew who she was because he’d let it slip he’d been working with Homeland on something and, you being you, you’d looked her up. Her pictures didn’t do her justice, because she was stunning. And exactly the type of woman Billy would be proud to be seen with.

After you and Billy started sleeping together, Billy rarely took you out. Sure you guys would go to some hole-in-the-wall places or fast food joints but never to fine restaurants, not like this one. You never complained because why waste time when you could be busy fucking his brains out? Except now that you saw him and Madani sitting only a few feet away from you, and he was proudly holding her hand and being openly affectionate, you realized it had all been by design. He never took you out because he was ashamed of you. If you had been prettier, thinner, sexier, taller – anything but what you already are – he’d want you as more than a fuck buddy. He’d want you as his girlfriend.

It was a bitter pill to swallow but at least now you knew the truth and that meant you were back in control of your life.

As much as it hurt, it felt good to know you were the ones making decisions about your future again and they didn’t revolve around Billy. No longer would you be obsessing over what he wanted, what he was doing, if he’d like a certain thing on you or not, if he was fucking someone else or not. You wouldn’t spend hours researching Billy like you did in the past and finding out things about him that he never knew you knew. No, now you were finally free.

And it was time to move on.

Tonight was the night of the fundraising gala. Your company had purchased a table and the CEO of your company had personally extended an invite for you to attend. Based on a conversation you had with Billy three weeks ago, you knew he would also be attending to represent Anvil. When you’d first broached the subject you’d hoped he’d asked you to attend as his date – but he hadn’t. At the time you’d reassured herself the reasons were practical. It would be weird for Billy to be sitting at a competitor’s table (if he went with you) and you would risk offending your boss if you sat at Billy’s. But now you knew the truth.

So, tonight, you were dressed to the nines in a curve-hugging gold dress with a plunging neckline which emphasized all of your assets. Your heels, which cost more than the dress itself, were over five inches high and made you feel like an Amazonian goddess when you sauntered in them.

When you walked into the ballroom with Davina in your arms that night, you felt confident in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

The thing about you that a lot of people didn’t know was that you were fucking fantastic at owning a room – despite your insecurities. You may not be beautiful but you were charming. You were really great at getting strangers to open up, people were drawn to you. It was one of the reasons your CEO promoted you so quickly after a few months. Your job, initially at least, was meant to be a technical role but when you were invited to a party with potential clients you had schmoozed them so easily they had signed the contract within the week. And then you had impressed them with your actual technical skills which only cemented their positive impression of you.

So, yeah, you were in your element and you were ready to charm.

“What table are we?” Davina asked.

“14,” you said. Of course your eyes were automatically drawn to Anvil’s table on the seating chart. 157. A safe distance from your table, which meant there was a good chance you two wouldn’t even be crossing paths in the grand ballroom. You didn’t know whether to be overjoyed or disappointed.

A while later you were circulating around the north bar, chatting up with some potential clients that your boss had wanted you to pay particular attention to when you saw Dinah Madani. She was in one of those slinky, maroon satin dresses, her hair up, and you felt that surge of jealousy go through you again. She was probably here as Billy’s guest considering this wasn’t the kind of events Homeland agents typically attended.

“Y/N!” You turned to find your boss waving you towards him.

Glad for the distraction, you picked up two glasses of champagne from a nearby server and headed towards him, handing him his drink. Your boss was chatting to a group of people you vaguely recognized, but the smile on your face stiffened when you spotted Billy amongst them.

Fuck. He looked good in a tux. His hair was slicked back, and you were struck with the sharp memory of fucking him in his car one night with your fingers roughly fisting his hair. God, you loved his hair, loved running your fingers through the silky strands.

Billy’s eyebrow quirked up when he saw you and you wondered what he thought of you so dressed up. No. It didn’t matter what he thought of you. Fuck him, you reminded yourself.

“Y/N is our new Executive Director,” your boss said, introducing you to the group. “Her division has shown a significant growth ever since she joined Valiant.”

You smiled, shaking hands with everyone. When it was Billy’s turn, you reached out to clasp his hand, not betraying any emotion even though you felt an immediate charge upon touching him. He gave you an amused smile, like he was enjoying the charade.

“Nice to meet you all,” you said. “And don’t listen to Roger. Valiant was doing fine on its own.”

“But Y/N has definitely changed the way we do some of our regular operations. I didn’t realize how archaic this industry’s systems and processes were until she came along.”

“Sounds like I may need to poach Y/N from Valiant,” Billy said with a smug smile, his eyes fixed on you.

“Anvil couldn’t afford me,” you reciprocated with equal smugness.

Roger laughed, patting your arm. “We’re not giving her up without a fight.”

“Clearly,” Billy replied.

The expression on Billy’s face was new to you, you had no idea what he was thinking but you also didn’t want to waste any more of your time obsessing over him.

Roger leaned in closer, lowering his voice so others wouldn’t hear him. “Table 35. Those were the clients I told you about.” As you glanced over to the table he mentioned, your eyes met Billy’s. He was watching you intently, still with the unreadable mask on his face.

Ignoring Billy, you flashed a confident smile up at Roger. “Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”

You turned back to the group, your gaze skipping past Billy’s. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope you have a great evening.” Bidding everyone goodbye, you headed to Table 35.

***

An hour later you were on the terrace, enjoying the cold, crisp New York air that rattled your bone. You were exhausted. Networking took a lot out of you and now you just wanted to go home and soak in the tub. Davina, a natural extrovert, was still in the ballroom, flirting and socializing but you needed a few minutes of privacy so you had snuck outside to compose yourself.

“Congratulations on the promotion.”

Your jaw clenched as soon as you heard Billy’s voice from behind you. You turned around to look at him as he swaggered forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

“You never told me,” he remarked.

You shrugged your shoulders. “We didn’t tell each other a lot of things.”

“I get the distinct feeling you’re pissed at me but I don’t know why. Care to fill me in?”

“What reason would I have to be pissed at you?”

“You tell me. I’ve called you-”

“You’ve never called me,” you interjected.

“Fine. Texted. Whatever.” Billy took a step closer, forcing you to look up at him. Even in your fucking stilettos, he towered over you. “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks now. Why the ghosting?”

“I just think it’s time I move on.”

Oh, Billy didn’t like that. His eyes grew darker, so dark they were almost pitch-black. “Really? You’ve got the next one lined up already?”

As much as you wanted to believe he was jealous, you knew that wasn’t the case. “We both know you don’t give a fuck about me so drop the fake jealousy bit.” You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. You felt his angry breath skim over your skin as he glared down at you. “Let me go, Billy.”

“Why?” he snarled. “So you can go fuck Roger?”

“You really expect me to believe you’re jealous of me seeing someone else?” you snapped back. “Or is it because it’s Roger? He’s more successful than you, he’s your competitor, his company has been taking all the contracts you’ve been fighting for and now he’s got you beat in the one area you thought you excelled at. Fucking.” You angled forward on purpose, holding his gaze. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you go fuck Roger and leave me out of it?” You smiled up at him. “Or does Madani not let you stray?”

Understanding dawned on Billy’s face. “So that’s what this is about.”

Part Two

A/N - This is my first reader insert fic. Hope you guys enjoyed it. If you’d like me to tag you, please leave a comment or DM me.

If you created this GIF, please let me know so I can give proper credit :)

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine #the punisher #reader insert #ben barnes #my fics

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labomi · 4 years ago

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a demon’s promise | (18+)

summary: You didn't want to spend your Friday night trying to summon the king of all demons in your tiny apartment, but here you are with your best friend by your side reciting an incantation from a strange book. To your utter relief, the spell doesn't work or so you seem to think.

pairing: sukuna ryomen x f!reader

words: 4.2k

warnings: explicit sexual content, slight dubcon, smut, explicit language, choking, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, not a particularly happy ending

notes: read on ao3 here! first sukuna piece and i don’t have much to say except aahhhhh!! i initially planned it to be more of a cute, fluffy story but obviously that didn’t happen oops. well anyways thanks for reading!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask hesitantly, watching your best friend finish drawing a pentagram on your living room floor. Kimi dusts the chalk off her fingers, admiring her work with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, come on,” she says, a little exasperated at you. “Don’t bail on me now. Aren’t you the tiniest bit excited?”

“About summoning a demon from a weird book you found in the back of a sketchy thrift shop? Yea, I’m absolutely thrilled,” you deadpan.

It was about a week ago when Kimi surprised you with her new find. The book was bound in torn leather and filled with handwritten notes about how to conjure the supernatural on ink stained, wrinkled pages. It certainly looked old, but you couldn’t help but think it was a scam. Some kid might have decided to replicate the look and feel of an ancient book, filling it with absolute nonsense that your best friend was clearing falling for.

Unfortunately, once Kimi had gotten a hold of this book, she would not shut up about it. For the past week, you tried your best to feign interest in her new obsession as she flipped through pages, oohing and aahing at the sketches and descriptions of different types of demons. They ranged from little mischievous creatures to incubi and succubi and even a terrifying being that ate the souls of its prey.

For the most part, you think the book is absolutely absurd, but you can't ignore the tiny voice in your head that is just a little terrified about the potential existence of demons. Kimi had begged you nonstop to try one of the spells. You were hesitant and initially said no, but she kept begging you over and over again. Eventually you gave in because she was your best friend, and she was clearly excited about trying out the book with you. There is no harm in humoring her a little, right?

Kimi finishes lighting the five candles that surround the pentagram as you place a small bowl in the center.

“Alright!” Kimi says, clapping her hands. She looks at the open spell book next to her, double checking the instructions. “The only thing left is a drop of human blood.” Kimi looks at you expectantly.

You blink and point a finger at yourself. “Me?” you squeak. “But isn’t this your idea?”

“But you know how squeamish I get about pain and blood! Pretty pretty pleaassee,” your best friend begs.

You sigh. “Alright, alright. You owe me big time for this. Hand me the knife.” Kimi happily gives you the small knife that you had grabbed earlier from the kitchen. Scrunching your face, you make a tiny little cut on your index finger and squeeze one drop of blood into the bowl. You suck on your finger, hoping it would scab over quickly. “Ok, now what?”

Kimi turns the page. “Now we just have to say this incantation together. Come here.” You scoot over to sit next to your friend as she holds the book between the two of you. Together, you both recite the words scribbled down on the crumbled page.

You wait.

And wait.

And nothing happens.

“Umm,” you break the awkward silence. “Nothing happened.”

“No, this can’t be right.” Kimi groans and starts aggressively flipping through the pages. “We followed the instructions exactly. It should have worked!”

Part of you feels relieved. You weren’t particularly thrilled about inviting the supernatural into your tiny apartment on a Friday night. Now you’re more convinced that the book really is a fake.

“What were we supposed to summon anyway?” you ask, a little curious.

Kimi frowns, still re-reading the instructions. “A creature named Sukuna Ryomen. Apparently he’s the king of all demons.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. “What the fuck, Kimi? The king? You chose to summon the king of all demons? What were you thinking? I thought we were going to summon those harmless creatures that steal people’s left socks or something like that!”

Kimi huffs. “Well, I did ask you what we should summon, but you said you didn’t care and that I should pick something. So I did!”

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad. I’m sorry.” You could tell that Kimi is already quite upset that the spell didn’t work, and you were just adding fuel to the fire. “Hey! It’s ok. Let’s just take the rest of the night off. I’ll clean everything up, don’t worry about it. And listen, maybe we can try a different spell next week. Perhaps there’s not enough spiritual energy in this room or something to summon the big guy.”

Kimi perks up a little at your words. “We can try again next week? Really?”

You nod. “Promise. Take the book back to your place and choose something a little bit more tame, ok?”

Kimi giggles. “Ok, I promise too!” She grabs the book and carefully places it in her bag before getting up and heading towards the door. You follow her and give her a quick hug.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” you say.

“Yep! Good night!”

Once Kimi leaves your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You survey the mess on your living room floor with a frown. You truly love your best friend to death, but she’s just a little too adventurous for your tastes sometimes.

A sudden wave of lethargy washes over you, causing you to lean against your kitchen counter for support. You rub your eyes, struggling to keep them open as your eyelids start to feel unusually heavy.

Weird.

It isn’t particularly late, so you are a bit surprised to feel so tired out of the blue. You figure the excitement of tonight’s activities likely got the best of you, so you decide to retire early for the night. Walking into the living room, you blow out all the candles around the pentagram before retreating into your bedroom. You will clean up everything tomorrow. No harm in letting it sit out for the night.

---

You wake up with a start. The darkness of your bedroom greets you. Groaning, you grab your phone in order to check the time but it was dead. You silently curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it before passing out. You lean back in your bed with a sigh. Normally, you sleep through the night undisturbed. You briefly wonder what had woken you up.

Crash!

You instantly freeze and hold your breath. The noise came from the living room. It sounded like something had fallen. You try to calm your racing heart as you convince yourself that it was just one of your decorations falling off the wall. But you know you won’t be able to comfortably go back to sleep without checking, so you quietly slip out of bed and open your bedroom door. You peek into the living room, but you’re unable to make out anything clearly in the darkness.

You fully step out of your bedroom and hit the light switch for the living room. Squinting your eyes, you try to adjust to the sudden brightness. Once your vision finally clears, you gasp.

There’s someone in your living room.

The first thing you notice about the intruder is his tattoos. Intricate symbols mark his entire body, including his face.

The second thing you realize is that he’s completely naked.

You open your mouth to scream, but the intruder appears right in front of you within the blink of an eye and clamps his large hand over your mouth to shush you.

“Be quiet,” he growls deeply. “You can’t act so surprised. After all, you’re the one who called me here.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine as your eyes widen in realization.

No. No. It can’t be.

Once the intruder is convinced you won’t start screaming, he removes his hand from your mouth. He stands back and takes in your appearance as you stand there numbly in your pajama shirt and shorts.

“A woman, huh.” He licks his lips. “I wasn’t expecting a woman to be the one to resurrect me, but I’m not complaining.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!

You try to convince yourself that you’re still dead asleep in your bed and dreaming about this entire encounter. There is no way that damn book actually worked!

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whisper to yourself, suddenly recalling the name of the demon you tried to summon with Kimi.

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Oh! You’ve heard of me!” He grins. “You should feel honored to be in the presence of the Great King of Demons.”

You shudder at his voice. There’s a certain aura of power, strength, and pure evil that you can feel radiating from the demon, but his appearance is still rather surprising. For the Great King of Demons, he looks rather...human. You could have easily mistaken him as a normal man who just really liked tattoos. No tail. No wings. No horns. Perhaps your view of demons was a bit outdated.

“I have to admit. I’m a little disappointed,” Sukuna says with a small frown, surveying his own body. “It seems you didn’t summon me correctly. My power is nowhere near what it should be, and it took me forever to spawn into this measly physical form. I normally have four arms and two faces.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. Did he say four arms? And two faces?

The demon taps a finger on his chin in thought. “I did start off as a human before becoming a demon, so I guess it makes sense I’m reborn looking like a human at first.”

You silently thank your friend for messing up the ritual. If Sukuna had spawned immediately at full power, the two of you would have both been in danger. At least it’s only you in harm’s way. Kimi is safe and sound, far away from your tiny apartment.

“It’s ok,” Sukuna purrs, approaching you. “It doesn’t matter that you messed up the ritual a little. You can help me fix it now, pet.”

You stumble backwards, heart racing and body quivering in fear. He reaches out to place his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before pushing you against the wall. You instantly freeze, breath caught in your throat as you wonder what he’ll ask of you.

Sukuna lightly strokes your cheek with one hand. You want to recoil in fear and disgust, but your body remains frozen in horror.

“You haven’t noticed?” he asks. “It was your blood used in the summoning ritual. That means we are bonded.”

No. No.

Sukuna places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts them up so you look directly up into his eyes. You tremble uncontrollably as you meet his dark gaze.

“The way I regain my strength is by sucking the energy out of you. You might have noticed that you felt tired and sluggish after the ritual. That’s because the it took a lot of energy from you to give me a physical form. Don’t worry though, it’s not enough to kill you. But you are pretty weak, so it might take me awhile to regain my full strength.”

You gulp. The Great King of Demons at full strength? You know you have to prevent this from happening somehow, but your phone is dead, the book is gone, and Sukuna is not likely to let you leave his sight long enough for you to figure out a plan. Was it even possible to fight back against him? Maybe your best bet was to comply with his demands and hope he spares you.

“But there is a way to speed up the process.” He looks down at your body hungrily before leaning his head towards you until his lips hover over your left ear. “Sex,” he whispers huskily.

You stiffen slightly and try to ignore the spark that travels down your body and lights up your core.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammer nervously.

“I feed off your body’s energy, and everyone knows that there’s nothing more powerful than sexual energy. Sex gets your heart racing and blood pumping. It’s the perfect energy source for my complete resurrection.” Sukuna moves away from your ear and grins at your stricken face. “You are the one who summoned me here. It would be rude to not feed your guest and accommodate his needs.”

He places a thumb on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth. You try not to react, but your body won’t listen to you. Sukuna’s presence is overwhelming. His bare chest is practically pressed against your body. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes at your face. His thumb continues to rub your lips which leaves you flustered. Your mind feels hazy, and your body feels unusually warm. A small, sane part of you tries to fight back. A little voice in your head reminds that this is the king of all demons. How could you fall for the literal embodiment of pure evil?

“I know you’re turned on,” Sukuna says smugly. You look away feeling absolutely mortified, but the demon grabs your head and forces you to look back at him. “Ah ah. Keep your eyes on me. No need to get embarrassed. Like I said before, I was resurrected from your blood, so we share a connection. This means I can feel your blood pumping in your own body, and I can tell exactly where it’s headed.” Sukuna drops his gaze down your body to emphasize his point. He doesn’t miss how your thighs suddenly clench together.

With a dangerous flash in his eyes, Sukuna hoists you over his shoulder and throws you on your bed. Before you could even think about saying no, Sukuna is on top of you harshly nipping and sucking at your neck. One hand is already underneath your shirt, fondling one of your breasts and playing with your hard nipple. He sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck which leaves you moaning shamelessly underneath him. Any doubts or reservations immediately leave your mind.

Your body feels like it’s on fire being this close to Sukuna. He chuckles darkly, leaving your neck and pulling out his hand from underneath your skirt. “That’s my good pet,” he purrs. “So eager just for me.” Sukuna kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping as you try to match his fervor. Eventually he leans back and admires how swollen your lips look after his harsh treatment. Your pupils are blown wide with lust. With Sukuna’s face hovering just above yours, you can’t help but admire his unique markings. Without realizing, you reach a hand out and start tracing the lines on his cheek. Sukuna stills for a moment, enjoying your tender touch.

The moment of gentleness shatters when Sukuna rips open your shirt with his bare hands. He immediately latches onto one of your breasts with his mouth and roughly gropes the other. You grip the back of his head, digging your fingers in his short hair. He bites down a little too sharply on your nipple, causing you to yelp in slight pain. Sukuna lightly chuckles at your reaction and finally pulls away, giving your now sore breasts a break. He suddenly flips your positions so that you are now hovering over him as his back hits the bed.

You stare at his chiseled chest and can’t resist rubbing your hands up and down his prominent muscles. Sukuna observes you with an amused look as you openly admire his body.

“You like what you see?” he smirks.

You ignore the question and begin peppering light kisses down his chest and over his abs. The demon hums, enjoying your soft touch all over his body. However, he eventually has enough of your teasing. He pushes your head down until you’re forced to look at something you’ve tried to avoid glancing at the entire night. Your heart flutters with a little nervousness as you’re greeted with Sukuna’s dick. It’s long and thick with just the slightest curve. You wonder how you’re going to be able to handle his impressive size.

Sukuna can sense your hesitation, so he decides to give you a little push. He grabs your hair roughly and brings your face closer to his throbbing dick. “Be a good girl and open wide.” With a shaky breath, you take the tip of Sukuna’s cock into your mouth. He’s so thick that you can barely fit him in your mouth. With the demon’s hand still on your head, he coaxes you take him in deeper and you oblige. Sukuna groans as your hot, wet mouth takes more and more of his length. You look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock.

You start to bob your head up and down to Sukuna’s delight, but he’s rather annoyed at your languid pace. “Too slow,” he growls and that’s the only warning you get before the demon jerks his hips up sharpy. You gag as his dick hits the back of your throat, but Sukuna's firm grasp on your head keeps you in place. He tightens his grip and then begins to roughly thrust into your mouth. You try to relax your throat and keep your composure even as tears start to fall from your eyes as the demon ruthlessly fucks your face.

“You feel so good,” Sukuna groans. “You were made to take my dick.” A particularly rough thrust leaves you gagging again and drooling all over his cock. “Fuck yea, just like that.”

Once the demon is satisfied, he releases his grip on your hair and you immediately pull back to catch your breath. You wipe the spit from your mouth and the tears from your eyes, panting heavily from the rough treatment. Sukuna silently admires the way your breasts look against your heaving chest.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he demands. You shakily get off the bed and shimmy out of your pajama shorts. As you roll down your underwear, Sukuna doesn’t miss how it’s already drenched with your arousal. As you climb back on the bed, Sukuna roughly places you underneath him once again. He spreads open your legs and presses a finger against your entrance to test your wetness.

“Damn,” Sukuna growls. “You’re this wet from choking on my cock.” You moan in relief as you finally feel some friction against your throbbing core. “A good little whore just for me.”

The demon strokes your folds at a leisurely pace which drives you insane. You unconsciously grind against his hand, silently begging him to pick up the tempo, but Sukuna just chuckles and continues to tease you. He barely brushes your swollen clit with each stroke, causing you to whine in frustration.

“Please,” you whimper.

Sukuna raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Please what?” He suddenly stops his ministrations to your immediate displeasure.

You bite your lip feeling slightly embarrassed, but you decide to swallow whatever pride you have left. “T-touch me. I want to feel you. I n-need to feel you.”

“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Sukuna hums. He finally rubs his thumb over your throbbing clit, and you immediately cry out as pleasure wracks your body. The demon’s touch becomes faster and rougher, leaving you a writhing mess underneath him. Just as you’re about to hit your climax, Sukuna pulls away and you can’t stop the frustrated whine that leaves your mouth. He strokes his dick amused by your reaction and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Wouldn’t it feel better to cum around my cock? Come on. Tell me that’s what you want, pet.”

The fire between your legs only grows as you listen to his words. Desperate for any sort of release, you beg for Sukuna’s cock. “P-please fuck me. I need your dick so badly. Please please please.”

Sukuna answers your pleas by lining his cock against your sopping entrance before pushing into you in one go. You groan at the slight burn as your walls stretch around his wide girth, but you’re so wet he manages to slide his entire length into you without much resistance. Once he’s fully sheathed, the feeling is completely overwhelming. You feel absolutely stuffed to the brim with his giant cock pulsing inside you.

“Oh my god,” you breath. “You’re so big. Fuck.”

Sukuna doesn’t give you much chance to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out until only his tip remains before ramming back into you at full force. You yelp at the sudden movement, while the demon softly groans. He sets a brutal pace that leaves you absolutely breathless. With every snap of his hips, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl in pleasure, and you rake your nails down his muscular back as the demon fucks you senseless.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sukuna growls as you continue to moan and whimper wantonly underneath him. When the head of his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle, the tension in your body finally snaps and a wave of pleasure completely washes over you. You cry out as you reach your climax, squeezing your eyes shut as you surrender yourself to the sensations of pure bliss.

Once you start to come down from your high, Sukuna pulls out of you and adjusts your body so that you’re on your hands and knees. Your arms are still quivering from your orgasm but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from collapsing. Both you and Sukuna groan as he enters you once again. He somehow fucks you even harder than before. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming against one of another fill the bedroom. Sukuna grips your waist with such force as he slams into you over and over again that you know you’ll wake up with nasty bruises tomorrow. In this position, it feels like his cock is pushing even deeper inside you at such a brutal pace.

“You going to cum on my cock again?” Sukuna pants. He slaps your ass, and you squeak at the unexpected sting. “Answer the question, pet.” He gives you another slap.

“Oh god, yes,” you gasp as your cunt clenches around him. “F-fuck. Your cock feels s-so good.” Satisfied with your answer, Sukuna reaches around to rub your clit. It was just the right amount of extra stimulation you needed to reach your climax again. Your body shudders as you lose yourself to the white hot pleasure. Sukuna pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse on the bed.

“Who said we were done yet, pet?” The demon picks you up and places you on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as your hard nipples rub against his chest. You can feel his still erect cock poking at your entrance. “I want to watch your face as I fill you up with my cum.”

You wince as he slips back into you. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and sore, but Sukuna hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down yet. He ruts into your limp body, only concerned about chasing his own pleasure.

You don’t think it’s possible for you to cum again, but Sukuna’s cock is continuing to hit all the right places. The pain from overstimulation only seems to egg you on further as you feel the familiar tension building within your body once again. Sukuna groans as your walls start to clench down on him. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own release.

As he continues to pound into you as you’re splayed across his chest, the demon tells you about all the humans he’ll kill once he’s at full power. Not even women or children will be safe from his destruction. He’ll lay siege to all Japan, perhaps even the world. Sukuna mentions how the golden age of demons will begin once again.

You begin crying, but you can’t even tell if it’s from the overstimulation, the shame of letting him use you like this, or the guilt of bringing such a horrifying demon back to Earth. With one more rough thrust, you come undone again for the third time during the night. Sukuna follows right after you, pumping you full of his cum. There’s so much that you can already feel his seed leaking out of you.

Sukuna remains still, trying to catch his breath as you quietly sob against his chest. The demon rubs your head with surprising tenderness.

“Don’t worry, pet. I promise I’ll spare you,” Sukuna says. “You’re mine now. No one else will ever touch you again.”

You hiccup through your tears as Sukuna’s words fill you with dread. It’s all your fault. He’s going to be reborn at full power and wipe out human civilization because of you. The guilt tears at your heart.

What have you done?

Sukuna can already feel his power returning to him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be unstoppable. Perhaps a couple of more days of indulging himself with your body will get the job done. He rubs your back, feeling how your sobs rack your body. Your tears only amuse him. Just another sign of how weak humans really are.

“Get ready for the new age, pet. And it’s all thanks to you.”

#tw dubcon #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #mine #n/sfw

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lucienne-thee-librarian · 1 year ago

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I simply couldn't let the-everqueens tags be left there, they were too good. Truthfully I now kinda wish I'd gone in more, my first draft was a lot harsher but I was trying to kinda go after bad-faith arguments excuses for fandom double standards and break them down for people who might be tempted to buy into it without thinking too hard about it...then again sadly I feel that most of the people who this describes best were never seriously going to listen anyway so maybe I should've just said fuck it.

I may not have disliked comic Rose but I always felt like she was done dirty. Like more could've been done with her and her family's emotional journey. (And we don't talk about Kindly Ones...unless lol cause that was a HOT mess as far as she was concerned and I am so confused as to how one of the best volumes, the rest of the time, stumbled so hard there.) But the show gave SO MUCH in terms of that, and for Unity too! Unity had mostly the same arc but her personality came through a lot more and we got to spend a bit more time with her, and frankly I felt the developing bond between her and Rose (and the subsequent loss) so much more in the show and I couldn't be happier about it.

But...honestly, say anything bad you want about Rose and there's a white or white passing male character in the same fucking show who's the same if not worse and people love him for it! She got in Dream's way and was an (inadvertent, she DID NOT CHOOSE THIS) threat to the waking world by existing? Corinthian on purpose recruited all these serial killers and tried to kill the guy! Like that was a CHOICE...and the vast majority of the fandom sees him as Babygirl, but hates or more often, gives her an indifferent shrug and a guest spot playing cheerleader to Dream's love life if she's lucky. Same with Lucifer who isn't even male or played by a male actor (but critically, by a white one)!! The character people most love in this fandom appeared in a side quest story in half of one episode and yet to the fans you wouldn't know, their response to him vs Rose after multiple episodes that tied into the larger story, is just night and day. Like there's "maybe there's a double standard here" and then there's *this.*

I do also agree with your comment about the ship potential, and I wish I'd gone into that. It may be a little less obvious but honestly there really are several candidates if you just look and shift your expectations. The more I think about it lately (and I can't take credit for this more than one other user tuned me in to the potential here but now GOD YES) the more sense CoriRose makes as a twisted but fascinating duo and I want to explore it more and frankly in a fandom where Corintheus is one of the biggest ships (and I see it okay I do) nobody has ANY business making it Problematic suddenly, conveniently, when its Rose, so fuck it I'm talking about it.

Also Gault and Rose...I had literally NEVER thought about that but it's a great idea. I also think Barbie and Rose could have potential together, Barbie clearly cared about her enough to help her despite Ken (and oh god I may be a BarbieWanda truther till I die...though she had two hands!! but there is queer self-discovery subtext written ALL OVER Barbie's story and Rose ties *heavily* into that ask me for more PLEASE. I'm dying to talk about this I actually want to make it its own meta.) There's actually some great discussion about Rose ships in the notes I was getting into earlier!

The Sandman female characters - why are they buried?

I'm gonna make a series of my thoughts on the female Sandman characters, both critiques of how they're treated and appreciation posts for them. (These are just my opinions, everyone is entitled to their own) Hope you enjoy!

Also tagging @thesandwomen because I'm also very curious to hear your takes on her.

Part 1: Rose Walker

As a character, she gets an obscene amount of hate. Even her actress was bullied terribly when the show came out (which is a whole other issue).

The thing with Rose Walker is that she's strong, complex, powerful, but not in necessarily always visible ways.

She's making her own way in life, traumatized but loving, ambitious and creative. Her inner dialogue and workings is complex and tragic but not in always... I guess cinematic or traditional ways.

She shows the realistic side of someone, specifically someone growing up through tragedy.

She's endlessly creative but she's cursed as this Vortex which destroys and she can't escape that, unless she dies. While she's going through all this she's dragged for not being more dynamic or charismatic.

I found Rose Walkers character to be awfully realistic, because in my eyes, a way of interpreting her story is that one of a young woman, growing up, promising and creative, has been pushed down by society and other people's actions against her. She's creative, loving, ambitious, searching for her brother and making a life for herself. But then she's pulled down into this Vortex, this series of awful and inexplicable events where things are happening around her, she knows she's causing it, and she can't stop it, and the only way to solve it is to die and leave a life she has fought for so hard.

Strange people are telling her what to do, she doesn't understand it entirely, but she does it to the best of her ability. She pushes back at them (Dream and the Corinthian) at times, because what else can she do?

In the end, she ends up with one of her last living relatives dying in front of her and realizing there was no other way for it to turn out. And she's hated, because throughout these events, she isn't entertaining enough.

I'm not someone best suited to talk on the racism that undoubtedly impacted how the fandom impacted the character, but it's worth noting that racism certainly played a role.

Rose Walker shows the sides of a character, specifically a young, strong woman character that I feel like isn't often marketed.

Some of those who claim "girl power" dislike her because she isn't what they're used to seeing. I'm not claiming that she's revolutionary, I'm saying that she IS that type of character, portrayed perhaps more realistically.

She is powerful but she's not cocky and smiley and she won't punch you in the face. Female characters are only perhaps worth paying attention to if they have any qualities that are surface level beneficial or amusing to the audience.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that Rose Walker is disliked because she's realistic, she has no amusing qualities.

Female characters often have stock marketable traits, such as humour, physical strength, or maybe magical. It's almost as if they're being paraded around, but not as a celebration but as a freak show. These are fake empowerment characters, and I feel like a lot of the basis for initial main female characters in big media pieces was written like this.

Rose Walker has marketable traits, but mixed in there are the real thoughts of a young woman, panicked and trapped and loving, and deeply honest. And it's honesty people don't like.

A young woman's struggle isn't fun to watch, it's not funny, there's no action, it's realistic.

I'm not trying to call her the female character of all time, I'm just trying to articulate my thoughts.

Rose Walker can make people uncomfortable. A female character not being pushed into the box of marketable, but real.

I think it's telling that we as a fandom dismissed her because of her lack of marketable qualities, because if you look deeper into the character, there's so much more.

Anyway, I hope this didn't come off as too rant-y, and thanks for reading!

#sandman #rose walker #fandom misogynoir #long post #corirose #rose x gault #barbierose

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retrievablememories · 3 years ago

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love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him.

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest.

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do.

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them.

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

#kun smut #kun fic #kun scenarios #kun imagines #nct fic #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv fic #wayv scenarios #wayv smut #wayv imagines #ambw scenarios #kpop ambw #ambw fic #ambw smut #ambw imagines #qian kun

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egg-emperor · 2 years ago

Note

Do you like the way Pontaff wrote Eggman?

Yes, I do. In fact, I already loved their writing for Eggman specifically years before IDW and the comic only solidified my love for it forever and proved that it wasn't just nostalgia talking, there were things they handled well and especially so much better than IDW when it came to their understanding of Eggman's character. (My first game was also long before the modern era with Heroes, so people can't say I'm biased out of them being my introduction to the series' writing or anything. In fact, they didn't even write any of my top five Sonic games.) Pontaff's writing did have flaws in other areas but I don't care to speak for the rest of it as an Eggman focused blog. But when it comes to Eggman himself, I truly feel that their writing for him was spot on all the way through and it was a blast.

All the dialogue felt like himself, he had the strongest portrayal and consistency, he had entertaining and clever humor (with all the Colors PAs being one of the prime examples but even the other jokes land with me), and he still had great evil and threatening moments and plans that people overlook just because of the humor and lighter hearted tone of the games of that era overall. Even when he was betrayed by the D6, it wasn't a lazy way to write him off, instead he got even more focus as he still found his way after he lost everything taken away and was still the final boss. That's how you handle betrayal and it was the only time they wrote it in a main game and he was always the main and respected bad guy. Then they gave us even better with Forces with a great example of his evil and success and showed his competence in clever backups, solid plans, and adaption to changes like he always truly could with his genius. Wild that the last story they'd write for shows an understanding of that specifically, while our next writer has shown he doesn't understand it at all and it worries me that he'll ruin it.

The only problem I've had with their portrayal is how they could've done a lot more with him than they did at times and usually the same could be said with the overall plots themselves. Especially in Forces, as his actual personality, dialogue, and actions we did see were fantastic but they should've shown more of the evil and done a lot more with him keeping Sonic captive for 6 months, what it was actually like when he was taking over, treated his role as important as it should've been after accomplishing his dream instead of giving all the screentime to Infinite, gone more in depth with it overall, etc. They had great ideas but the execution was weaker and the potential of the concepts weren't explored to the extent they should be.

And while I adore all the humor with Eggman that people complain about and will always defend it, they could've done with not removing/having less humor but instead also adding some more focus on the evil and seriousness along with it. He was still very much evil in games where people claim he's nothing but a joke, he's never been nothing but one in any modern game, he still has his fucked up plans and actions and hasn't become less evil just because they don't focus and show it right in your face as much anymore (though there are still a lot of moments even then but people overlook those too). But I like to imagine that if they had put more focus on it, it would help more realize that. Also just because the ideas were so cool and I wanted to see them fully explored, instead of feeling like there was a lot of wasted potential after.

But that's literally it when it comes to their handling of Eggman. I don't have anything bad to say about what we actually did get to see Eggman doing in the stories they wrote because I genuinely love it. It was inspiring to me for many writings, headcanons, fics, analysis, theories, etc, of my own because their stuff felt true, reliable, and in character for Eggman all the way through. I'm going to miss Pontaff Eggman a lot and I'd be much less nervous if they were still writing for Frontiers than knowing that Ian Flynn is. Pontaff Eggman had the balance of funny and evil and fucked up that I love in Eggman, he was smart and competent, and no moment of his felt OOC. It only could've gotten better if they'd just had more moments where they explore certain story concepts to the full extent they could have. And done more with other characters and maybe changed a few things there but again, I only speak for their Eggman writing and overall stories.

#asks #dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #opinion #my post

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allandoflimbo · 3 years ago

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Ashens (Part 23)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6,000

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

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The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

+ + +

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity.

Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character,

for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way,

not for their own benefit, but for others.”

+ + +

It starts in his fingers, a feeling of hot tingles and sporadic static. He plays with the condensation of the glass, gathering the wetness on the tips of his digits until they are completely numb from the cold. The hot tingles and static dissipate momentarily until they move up his arms and into the cavity where his heart beats.

It beats for the way you waltzed into the room, smelling like sweet strawberries and your shampoo.

It beats for the way it continues to ache and hope to feel your touch again.

If he’s quiet enough, he could hear it, too. It thumps away in his head, making his temples pulse and his palms sweat. He rubs the palm of his hand against the glass, too.

He looks up, dark eyes meeting your figure in your shared bedroom. Memories of the last few months fill his brain with a strong ripple of serotonin, gaze drifting towards the messy, fresh out the dryer, white sheets.

He’s feeling too much. It must be why he feels like he’s having a heart attack and why his mouth is insanely dry.

His eyes flicker back up to you again, and for a fraction of a second, he considers saying something.

Bucky doesn’t talk about his feelings much.

He always held it down.

He didn’t talk about how he felt when he watched his sister being taken from him, or when either of his parents died and he in result became an orphan.

Not much has changed since then, he thinks as he keeps looking at you.

You were moving around, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Bucky is fully convinced that no one on this earth detests him more than he detests himself. Not only does he hate himself for the things he’s done, but he can’t stand how he’s unable to talk about his feelings when he knows he needs to.

He can’t stand how weak he is and how he doesn’t have the guts to face it.

He’s watching you and he wants to speak up, but he can’t.

He detests himself for always running away from facing his demons.

This had a lot more to do than you going on a date. This was about everything. He knows there’s so much he needs to tell you.

He just wishes it were a lot simpler.

He doesn’t dare compare his issues to yours.

He knows each person has their own demons and their own complications to conquer, so he doesn’t dare compare. But, sometimes, he can’t help but think he is the world’s most horrible person, through no fault of his own.

Why couldn’t he have been stronger? Why couldn’t he have stopped himself from getting brainwashed? Why couldn’t he stop himself from doing all the things that he did?

Nobody knows what it’s like to live with the memories of being forced to train young girls who were taken from their families to fight for the KGB, one of them who later turns out being your friend. Not to mention then also shooting the same girl through the stomach on a bridge in Odessa. Nobody knows what it’s like to be forced to put a bullet between countless of innocent people’s eyes, some being young kids, cutting their innocent lives short.

Nobody understood what it was like to then be forced to kill someone’s parents, the same person who’s teams then welcomes you decades later into their home as family.

He experienced all of it without one goodbye to his blood family.

It doesn’t make sense to him how no one else could see what was going through his mind. Maybe he was messed up to the point where he could no longer be okay ever again.

Maybe.

But you, you had woken something inside of him that he thought had been long gone. You gave him a longing for communication, to talk about how he was feeling. For the first time in over half a century, because of you, he sees a potential light at the end of the tunnel.

You didn’t treat him like an ex assassin, a veteran, an avenger, or just a friend. You treated him like an imperfect man, taking him into your arms in spite of that.

Unbeknownst to you, you had taken his broken heart in your hands and held it tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn child. You taught it how to be happier, you taught it self forgiveness and preservation. You showed him how to be human, how to feel human desires that for so long he had held down.

He continues to watch you, swelling hard.

You showed me that it was okay. He thinks to himself.

You were his friend for much longer than you ever knew, and you had no idea.

He needed you more than you realized.

But you were right. It was time to let you be truly happy. After all, how could someone like him make you happy? You made it clear to him, time after time, that you’re both toxic together. He knows most of it was his fault, but he had changed. Unfortunately so had you and your feelings were just platonic now. It was a mess. Both of you, together, was a mess.

The amount of orgasms you shared don’t even make up for the hurt you’ve put each other through.

That’s what he needs to tell himself as he watches you from the living room, pulling the wool scarf tight around your neck to hide your tattoo, and tightening the lightweight white coat over your shoulders.

You were wearing a mid length dark red dress and short black heels. You looked great. The small smile your wore complemented you well, too. You looked happy.

Bucky knows he has no right to feel what he does as he watches you go back into the bathroom to touch up your hair.

It was a quarter past seven and the sun was setting. If this was two weeks ago, you two would probably be having sex right about now.

It had become routine after a certain point. He would probably have you bent over the sink, leaving finger indents on your hips.

Not anymore. That was over.

Ironically, it wasn’t even want he wanted to do with you as he watched you walk back in. He just wanted to grab you, run his hand through your hair and kiss your forehead.

The thought of wanting to do such a pure act catches him off guard and he feels a tightness in his chest grow hot. There was the static again in his fingers.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. We’re just going to have dinner at his place.” You say, slowly stepping into the lit living room.

Bucky’s on the sofa and you watch as his eyes leave yours to obviously linger down your body.

He clears his throat, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table.

“Be safe.” He says softly.

You watch as he takes a sip of the water, his eyes meeting yours again over the glass. There’s a pull inside of you that wants you to ask him if he was okay.

“You’ll be okay here?”

He gives a curt nod, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” His tone is hard and straight to the point, but something was still clearly off with his behavior.

He’s been acting weird since a few days ago when you told him about Pietro.

You start playing with the sleeve of your coat, clearly stalling.

He had to open up to you.

“You have food?” You ask. The edge of Bucky’s lip perks up. You’re thankful for the almost smile.

“Yes.”

You watch him for a few more seconds. The mundane exchange is almost comical.

“I gave you his address, right? Just in case?”

Pretty blue eyes narrow at you curiously.

“Yes, I have it right there.” Bucky says, pointing over to the dining table below the blue A.I glow.

“Okay.” you say, nodding slowly, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything as you leave. He leans his elbows on each of his knees, bringing both his clasped hands together up to his chin.

He wants the static to go away. He wants to tell you everything.

He takes in a deep breath and runs a metal hand through his hair.

No, I wasn’t going to be okay without you here.

He picks up the control off the table and starts season nine of Friends.

It was going to be a long night.

+ + +

You were nervous. This was your first date.

Ever.

You also didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Sure, you liked Pietro. He was sweet, a good guy, and he was attractive. You wanted to give it a try. You were done being dragged down by one man that didn’t even love you the way you did.

It was time to move on.

Three soft knocks is how long it takes for the dark blue door of apartment 8C to swing open.

You’re immediately welcomed by the scent of something delicious and Pietro’s warm and bright smile.

“Hey, you.” He says with a delighted perk in his voice. He swings the door open wider for you to walk through, “Come in.”

Timidly, you walk into his inviting home.

The walls were beige and he had dark brown wooden floors. They were glossy instead of matte. To the left was a small kitchen with black cabinetry, and in front of you a small living room with a television and a black cotton couch.

You didn’t miss the hallway towards the far left the most likely led to a bedroom and bathroom.

Bedroom.

You feel your throat close up.

You were nervous.

“May I take your coat?” He asks sweetly, stretching out a hand to you. Your eyes go from his hand to his own eyes and his smile is contagious, “I’m just going to hang it in the closet. I won’t let it run away. Promise.”

You chuckle.

You give him a short nod, shrugging off your coat and handing it to him.

“Thank you.” You say.

There’s a small pause of silence.

“Wow, you look amazing.” He says quietly, taking in your dress. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you and you knew he was being sincere. You smile. “Do you want me to take your scarf, too?”

You instinctually reach for your scarf before pausing, your hands lingering on the fabric a bit longer than casual, “I’ll keep it,” your eyes meet and he squints at you, “It’s supposed to go with the dress.” You say quickly on your feet.

He tilts his head at you and chuckles.

“Okay. Well,” he looks down at his hand still holding your coat, “I’m just going to go hang this up. Feel free to to look around for a few seconds.”

You nod again, watching as he walks to a small closet towards the right, passed the tv.

You look over into the kitchen, and you see a neatly set table with two glass of wine.

There’s a pot on the stove with the lid on it, but the stove isn’t on.

You feel a warm and inviting hand on your upper back.

“I made, or should I say, I attempted,” he adds a chuckle that makes you smile, “to make some chicken parm.”

You giggle.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You both walk over to the table which isn’t that far to the side and he pulls out one of the chairs for you. You thank him politely, taking a seat.

There’s the sharing of shy glances and awkward feet hitting each other under the table. You mutter out sorry’s.

Pietro clears his throat when he remembers he forgot the plates. You smile again as he apologizes and gets up.

“I’m the worst.” He says quickly.

“You’re not, relax. I forgot, too.” You play with the glass on the table, vividly remembering Bucky doing the same not too long ago.

You were picking up each others habits, hard.

“So, how’s it going with the whole situation at home? With your friend?”

You’re caught off guard by the indirect mention of Bucky and you try to casually grab the white napkin off the table, laying it over your lap.

“It’s going better.” You say, hoping it’ll make Pietro cut the topic short.You smooth the fabric over your legs, picking at it.

He looks over his shoulder to you and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really? That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. I know it was rough for you. I hated seeing you like that.” That makes two of us, you want to say. There’s another pause. “You’re quiet today.” He notes, placing your plate in front of you. You’re hit with an intense wave of nausea as the delicious smell peaks up into your nose. You look away from the plate swallowing hard, “You okay?”

You clear your throat and swallow and swallow.

“Yeah I’m fine,” the bile lays in your belly as the smell continues to drive into your head, making you dizzy and sweat, “Do you have some water?” You croak out, trying to push your chair a little away from the table. It scrapes angrily against the floor, and if it wasn’t for how sick you were feeling, you would be apologizing.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He says quickly, moving around the kitchen and fixing you a glass.

He hands it to you and you take some heavy gulps. It’s cold and slices through your throat. It lays into your stomach uncomfortably but you prefer it over a dry and heavy tongue.

You place it back down on the table, taking a deep breath. You feel the sweating start to dissipate and your stomach slowly settles.

You bring your palm to your head and quickly blink away.

You hated throwing up.

“Sorry, about that.”

He chuckles and gives you a smile as he takes his own seat across from you, “That’s okay. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

You weren’t too sure, but you don’t say that. “Yeah, I don’t know what that was,” you look back down at the plate that begins to look somewhat appetizing again, “Believe me, it wasn’t the food. This smells delicious and looks delicious.” He opens the glass the red wine and offers some to you. You quickly shake your head, giving him a wave of rejection with your hand. Just the thought of wine made your stomach turn again, “I’ll stick to the water for now.” He nods and pours himself a glass, “Sorry if I’m quiet. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous why?”

You shrug, digging a fork into your chicken and swirling it around.

“I don’t know. I’m just like that.”

He says your name and you stop poking your fork to look up at him, “It’s me. We’ve been friends for a few months now. I’m not some stranger.”

You smile. He was right.

“I know, trust me. It’s just…” you think for a moment and then start laughing, “God, we’re literally on a date, during the apocalypse, like this is just weird, ya know?”

Pietro frowns.

“Apocalypse? We’re safe in here, in these walls. Everyone is safe in here.”

Your smile drops.

You stare at him and begin to wonder if he’s actually being serious. Was the majority of the people in here really convinced that this was it? That everything was perfect? Was Hydra really that capable? Part of you is proud of your parent’s work because you truly were safe because of what they built, but the world was still out there, living. There was still more. This wasn’t supposed to be a permanent solution.

There were people out there still dying, trying to survive. And these people had no idea, including Pietro.

You realize you’re quickly going into dark territory and you don’t want Pietro digging into what you were trying to say, accidentally blowing your cover.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.” You say quickly. You bring the chicken to your mouth, taking a small and careful bite, “This is so good.” You say after chewing and swallowing.

“I’m glad you liked it. I made some lava cakes for desert, too.”

You laugh.

“Are you a cook?”

“Nah. Just watch a lot of Tiny Kitchen.”

You perk a brow.

“Tiny Kitchen?”

“You’ve never heard of Tiny Kitchen?”

You laugh, placing your fork down on the plate.

“No, what the hell is it? A small kitchen?”

“Literally what it is. I’ll show it to you afterwards.”

“Okay.” You grin.

You look down at your plate again, wanting to go in for another bite, but for some reason you just can’t.

+ + +

He doesn’t get past episode three. He can’t.

Not when all thoughts of you clouded his mind. He knows Pietro is good people, so he’s entirely not concerned about that.

He knows he’s jealous. He knows that.

The jealousy mixed in with the anticipation of how the rest of the mission will play out worries him.

He wanted you home and near him, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he was home by himself, glooming.

He knows he needed a distraction right away so he picks up some of his things from the dining table, slides on a light jacket, and makes his way towards the tower.

He knows the blueprint of the tower already and he’s able to navigate himself into stairwell of the apartment on the top floor.

After weeks of dissecting, you both found out that Ashens’ father, Ashen, and his mother don’t live here with the boy. For safety precautions, which are obvious why, he’s being housed in under high security and under the supervision of some au pair who is as clueless of his importance as the day is young.

Bucky knows that what he’s about to do borders on breaking boundaries, and downright creepy.

But this was a situation he would qualify as desperate times comes to desperate measures.

Bucky’s able to bypass security, taking a security outfit off a ‘poor’ victim (he scoffs) as he does soon.

He’s just outside the boy’s bedroom when he hears the nanny tell Ashens goodnight.

When she’s leaving she tells Bucky in a heavy Bulgarian accent, clearly thinking he’s just a regular guard, that Ashens is about to go to sleep. Bucky keeps his head down and nods.

The clueless ar pair goes the opposite way, presumably to her own bedroom.

Bucky waits a few moments before knocking on the boy’s door.

He hears the little boy give out permission to come in. Bucky opens the door.

The bedroom is plain and depressing. There’s a bed with plain white sheets, a small nightstand, and a large window. There are no toys and nothing that would show any proof that a child resided here.

The room is not one he would expect for a boy Ashens’ age.

The little boy sits up in bed, his eyes squinting at the figure in his doorway.

“Hello.” The boy squeaks out.

Bucky practically laughs at how easy it was to get here. For a boy they are trying so hard to keep protected from just anyone, it was quite easy ending up just a few feet away from him.

Bucky’s had his fair share of experiences with kids, having a little sister himself. He knows he has to do this differently.

“Hi.” Bucky says lightly, almost too cheerfully.

The boy continues to stare at him as Bucky closes the door behind him, but not letting it close shut just yet.

“Who are you?”

Bucky slowly takes off his halo looking helmet and the boy squints at Bucky’s revealed face.

Bucky tucks the helmet under his arm and smiles.

“Can you keep a secret?”

The boy looks at him for a few more seconds before nodding slowly.

It’s not until Bucky is closer to the boy that his eyebrows shoot up,

“Wait. I know who you are.” Bucky can’t tell if the boy is excited or surprised, but the reaction makes Bucky’s chest swell.

This might go down easier than he expected.

“I -I was so little when I had the toy but,” the boy starts to talk excitedly and Bucky has to hide a growing smile, “Because I can’t have toys anymore. Not since we moved here. I was little but I remember,” the boy and Bucky both narrow their eyes at each other as if it’s a game to who would say it first, “it’s captain America. You ever heard of captain America?”

Bucky bites his lip.

“No, never.” He says sarcastically. “Oh, he’s the best. You look like his friend, but I don’t remember his name. He used to be the winter soldier and then he became good.”

Bucky’s heart swells again. The boy’s joy was so pure.

“Oh, yea?”

“Yeah. Dad didn’t like them vey much, though,” his face drops as he looks away from Bucky, “I didn’t like how happy he was when they all died. But no one knows that just us I think,” when Ashens looks up again, Bucky’s face is more solemn this time, “Are you sure you’re not the winter soldier?” The boy whispers the question.

Bucky considers his next words carefully. He places the helmet at the feet of the boy’s bed.

“If I told you I was?”

“I would be surprised because I though you were dead, and also I would be confused. Because why you here?”

Bucky nods. He looks away and then back at Ashens.

“Would you tell your dad?” He asks quietly. This was important.

The boy looks at him for a bit before answering.

“No. He would kill you. Daddy’s not on the good side.”

“And you believe I’m on the good side, right?”

“Yes. You’re an Avenger.”

Bucky bites his lip and looks around the room. This boy was good. It angered him that his own father wanted him killed. Now, more than ever, he wanted to rescue this boy.

“Can you trust me?” Bucky asks, suddenly serious.

The boy nods.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks timidly. “What do you mean?” “Ae you here to save me, sir?”

The question broke Bucky’s heart, but he nods.

“I trust you.” The boy’s eyes dart down Bucky’s left side, “Can I feel you arm?” The edge of Bucky’s lips perk up as he takes a seat, “and what does it feel like to hold the shield? Did you really know Iron Man? Black Panther always said —”

+ + +

By the time Bucky is back you’re already home in your pajamas tucked into bed.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” You ask him as he takes off his coat, draping it over one of the chairs in the dining area.

He kicks off his shoes and reaches back, pulling off his shirt. He walks over to the closet for a new one.

“I met Ashens.”

You raise your brows at this. You knew it was part of the plan to happen, but you didn’t expect it to be today.

“What?”

Bucky also pulls out a new and clean pair of boxers, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. We spoke for a bit.” “And he didn’t recognize you?” “No, he did,” Bucky says simply, eyes going over to you. You looked so pretty, comforter pulled up under your clothed breasts, a book in your hands, and a messy bun in your hair. He wanted you. He looks away, remembering where you had just been, “He knows I’m here. He won’t tell his dad." “How can you be so sure?” “I’m an Avenger, aren’t I? That’s what everyone tells me, has been telling me.” He says it bitterly. Bucky sighs, closing the closet door and then walking over to the bed near you, “Because I made him a promise that I was here to save him. I think he knows his dad is bad news. He’s a smart kid. He knows his dad hits his mom, too.” Bucky’s voice is soft.

“So you trust he’ll keep this between us?”

“I do.”

You nod. You watch Bucky’s eyes as his stare stays on you, unnerving.

“And you?” You voice shakes as you ask, “How are you? Ya know, after?”

Bucky nods his head.

“I’m alright, ya know? I — ,” something happens to him that you had never seen before. A wave of happiness washes over Bucky’s face like a fresh cup of lemonade. His eyes shine and a bright smile fills his face. Even his voice sounds perkier, “It was just so nice talking to him. He’s such a sweet kid. I know we’re doing the right thing,” his eyes meet yours again and his voice lowers to a deep tone, “We’re both going to walk away from this mission with more than we thought.” It’s the first time he’s said that you are both going to walk away from the mission together, and not just you. He knows that. Bucky clears his throat, “You definitely won’t run into his father. He’s not living with him to avoid attention and possible abductions. Ashens is a literal rapunzel right now.”

“Good. That’s good.” Obviously it wasn’t. But it was good for the both of you. You had less chances of running into Ashen.

Bucky takes in a deep breath when he realizes his eyes are lingering on your collarbones for far too long.

“How was your date?” He actually doesn’t want to even know, the thought of you and Pietro makes him sick, but he knows he needs to show courtesy. They can’t ignore it forever. “It was fine. I wasn’t feeling too well, though—“

Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“—Oh no, I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t eat. But,” you took a deep breath and eyed the hallway, "Brought some in a small Tupperware if you want it. It’s in the kitchen.”

Bucky ignores the flutter in his heat at the mention that you thought of him. Thought of him enough to bring the leftovers for him.

He smiles.

“What is it?” “Chicken Parm.” You watch as Bucky continues to watch you, eyes still sparkling. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re happy, right?” Your eyes flicker away for a moment.

“Y-yeah.”

He knows he’s not fine so he lies.

“Then I’m fine. You looked great by the way.” He adds quickly.

You tilt your head at him and he tilts his back.

Damnit, he needed you.

“Yeah?” You ask hoarsely.

He wanted you.

“You’re glowing.” He says.

+ + +

Jazz and burlesque shows were the epitome of everything she had lived for up until she was sixteen years old. The smell of handmade lace garters and expensive perfume still lingered in the back of her mind, bringing her a feeling of contentment and a strange longing for the past.

Nostalgia would overwhelm her as she looked on at what was the exact contrast to her innocence – her mother’s hugs. She missed those nights where she’d play some 12’s of her beat up vinyl on her record, the scratches adding to Peggy Lee’s voice a twinge of imperfection that made it the perfect tone.

With nothing on but her undergarments, and a pair of leg garters accompanied with knee high black stockings, she’d open her closet to a huge collection of gorgeous cocktail dresses. A couple handful landed just above her knees, not many past her mid shin - Scandalous and mildly scandalous. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out she even owned them (let alone have them in their home) so she kept those hidden in a little pile in the back corner of the wardrobe.

She had every right to be terrified for many reasons. It’s not that she was not loyal or a rebel, per say. She was born and raised into a Christian family, all strict rules of modesty and heavy morals applied to her daily life. She was always daddy’s little girl in the simplest sense possible.

She wouldn’t ever dare roll her eyes at him or purposefully make him disapprove of her, ever. Sure, she was raised in a rich family, so she was used to getting everything she always wanted. Material things being at the top of the list. Even then she remained as humble as possible.

Especially when she thought her strong faith was behind it all.

Do well for God, he gives back in return, right? At least that’s what her naïve self believed at the time. But she’d never admit it to her family that she now thought otherwise, especially to her mom.

If anything, God was now banning them all to Hell anyway.

Her vanity was those of every girl’s dreams. Drawers filled with everything you could only wish of having. Inside were lingerie of every shade (from fiery red to pure jet black, like the night sky in the city), style, and earrings of every pearl and diamond crystal variety you could think. Her favorite would always be the garters.

She’d clip each of the four clasps into place just above her knees with her nimble fingers and then she’d sit opened legged in front of the mirror.

Diligently, and with prestige dexterity, she’d apply her blood red lipstick and her four inch black heels.

After an o shape with her lips around her fingers and a loud pop, she’d walk around her room and close her eyes, envisioning herself as a burlesque girl and a sensual song playing in the background. After all, she had all the right in the world to be the exact opposite at night than what she was during the day. Morally, at least.

She still remained as the same sweet, innocent, and faithful young girl she always was. But she had big hopes and dreams, especially in film and dance. God should be okay with dreams, she thought.

When she had learned the truth it was just short of her 20th birthday. She unwontedly found out that her father and brother were different souls at night, too. She wished she never found out that everything that had been lying in front of her had been a lie, and instead of life being a gifted blessing it was instead a bloody carcass hades.

Their life wasn’t one she liked to admit to partaking in. There were times where she would trick into telling herself that they weren’t doing it. She’d trick herself into thinking that way so that when she saw her dad that night, she’d be able to surpass the strong smell of whiskey and gun powder and kiss him goodnight.

Jimmy would roll his eyes with a shove past her shoulder.

As much as she detested it, she knew that without them, they wouldn’t be living in one of the most beautiful homes in all of Manhattan in complete safety. It was because of them that she wasn’t living out in the slums. She tried to divide that part of harsh reality from her brain as much as she could. Eventually, the pros outweighed the cons.

Maybe it was the fact that her body had finally developed into a women’s body. Her breasts were now fully perked and her legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all she knew was they figured she could be put to good use.

At first she was repulsed by her own father’s comment, but if it meant having dinner that night and not getting killed, she would swallow those nagging feelings and take it head on. It never lasted too long anyway, and all she had to do was stand there and be her brother’s accessory.

When her father brought her into the business, he told her she would thank him one day when she had children of her own- she’d have all the men of the lower east side wrapped around her pretty little finger.

She was alright with it, until something happened that she would never forget. She had to swallow the repulsive bile and control herself not to run away then and there. She was too far in and knew way too much.

It was just another Tuesday night and she had been sitting at the dinner table, when both her mom and dad had stepped out of the dining room and into the kitchen. She ate her soup quietly, not being able to stop thinking about going back to her room to play burlesque, when Jimmy had turned to her.

At first it was the sudden motion that caught her attention, it had made a strand of blonde hair fly off her arm. Then it was the feral look in his eyes.

“Daisy,” his voice was low and dangerous. Daisy knew that tone very well because it was the tone all the other men used on their nights of missions. She was terrified and disgusted. Wide eyes trailed from her eyes to her full red lips and she felt a cold rigid finger against the heat of her skin on her upper thigh, pushing the fabric slightly up. She gulped.

Jimmy smiled, “You gorgeous thing.”

She thought about telling her father but she knew that if he found out, the one partnership that was bringing them the most cash would be jeopardized and it would have to be terminated and he’d be more than upset. She knew when her dad got angry, it was not good. It’s was messy and bad.

Back at dinner, her father would say grace before they ate, all of them hand in hand, and her mom would sit there quietly, a terrified and exhausted look in her smiles. She had heavy bags that weren’t there years ago, and her hair that used to always be done was now up in a messy clip, the baby hairs hanging against her wrinkled forehead, messy and unruly. But still she managed to smile, even if it wasn’t a real smile. It was all a stupid act.

It reminded Daisy of how she herself was when she was 16 - pretending to be oblivious to what her family were doing to the innocent. And so she hated her mom for that, for being just like her.

She felt disgusted in herself, she felt disgust for her family. Oh how she missed those days of when she was a child, before she even knew the truth. It was all so much simpler back then and she was so much happier. The worst it used to get was when her mother would tell her stories about when she was a nurse back in WWI.

She had wanted to be like her mom at first. Her mom was quiet, humble, caring, and extremely gracious. It’s what made her such a good person to have back in the war to help the soldiers- she was strong willed and knew she could help and would in her best ability do so. But those stories made Daisy question why any man in his right mind would want to do such a thing to their own body- putting themselves at such a risk.

Sure, she was privileged by riches, but problems didn’t have to be solved by violence. There must be other ways, like prayer or simply believing.

Her mother would tell her the graphic stories of the injuries that made Daisy queasy and fidget in her seat. She loved her mom’s qualities and how willing she was to help others who were injured and almost dying, but it still made no sense to her.

When daisy questioned her concerned to her mother she had simply said:

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, not for their own benefit, but for others.”

To this day, Daisy wondered if her mom was indirectly referencing her own father- him lacking thereof.

Next, she wondered about when her mom stopped believing her own words.

Daisy wondered if she’d ever meet one one day - a soldier. Someone willing to get destroyed. Or if her mom had been lying and all men are the same, evil like her father and brother.

But she was evil, too.

No, I don't wanna fall in love.

A/N: yes. she’s pregnant.

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