#plus they are going to commit crimes!
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Written in the Scars ⢠[AO3]
Teen | 3.2K+ | Marlos-centric/OT4 | Heavy Angst, Devotion, Whump
A/N: More detailed notes on AO3, if you're interested, but here, I will just say thank you to my lovely friend Blake (@finitevoid) for talking through this fic with me and inspiring me to push the plot further, plus impressing upon me the image of an insanely tall Maleficent, which has now become secret canon in my mind dajkgsjdkg <3
CW: Heavy angst, verbal and physical child abuse, emotional manipulation, non-graphic usage of medieval torture implements, threat of self-harm, a lot of swearing, and a hurt/no comfort kinda cliffhanger in this first chapter (sorry).
Chapter One: Birdcage Religion
The knife isnât dropped with a clatter to the stone floor. It is thrown at the feet of the Mistress of All EvilâMalâs mother, her queen and, at a whim, her executioner. Sheâll be that today, from the look on her faceâthe way her eyes flick to the knife and she tells Mal to repeat that.
âYou heard me,â says Mal, stepping out in front of Carlos.
He doesnât try to pull her back, though from the corner of her eye, she can see his hands twitch, like heâs thinking about it. His face has gone blank, but she reads fear in his quiet, the way he stands like a ghost, trying not to be seen. He thinks heâs caused enough trouble.
That makes Mal want to cause more.
She doesnât shrink when her mother stands slowly from her throne, rising to her full height of seven feet and then some. Her horns add another foot and sheâs standing on the dais. The candlelight behind her casts a shadow that much longerâa monstrous form, in allâ
âSo disappointing,â says Maleficent, voice dripping sickly sweetness. She takes her staff from where itâs leaning and takes a slow stride off the dais, almost gliding toward her daughter. âIt seems your heartâs grown like a tumour in that precious little chest of yours.â Her words warp to a snarl as she lifts her staff up, spearing it forward, striking Mal hard in the sternum, sending her stumbling back into Carlos.
Mal grabs the end of the staff to keep from losing her balance, eyes flashing green as she glares at her mother, whose own burning gaze comes down the length of the staff. Only hatred there. No, intentâ
âPROVE YOURSELF, GIRL,â roars Maleficent, wielding the staff in an arc as she kicks at Malâs shin, sending her down and out of the way, leaving a path to Carlos. âTHIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE.â
Carlos, in a slight daze from having hit the stone floorâhardârecovers quickly at the sight of Maleficent encroaching, her staff poised to strike, coming down like a falcon, everything a blurâ
Mal throws herself in front of him just in time to take the blow.
In some far part of his mind, still dazed, Carlos hears her ribs crack like a shot. He feels the part of a rabbit having watched the hound dog take a bullet for its prey, right from its masterâs rifleâ
Then, Mal is slumping across him, wheezing for breath, and heâs trying not to panic as he tries to sit up, tries to drag Mal away, tries to think through the thought stream of stupid, stupid, stupid, stupidâbecause heâs scared and heâs angry and he doesnât understand. Why didnât she just do it? Why didnât she just hurt him? Why didnât sheâŚ
âAh, so it is a cancer,â says Maleficent, practically in a purr. Sheâs put the end of her staff under Carlosâ chin now, forcing his gaze up. She smirks when his open, vulnerable face turns quickly to something vicious. âYou donât fool me, boy. I can see your weaknessâŚâ
Malâs arm shoots up and she grips the staff hard, pushing it away.
âLeave him alone,â she grits out, struggling up while half in Carlosâ lap still. âThis isâŚâ She coughs, blood speckling her lips. âBetween you and meâŚâ she manages, craning her neck to meet Maleficentâs eyes, high as a godâs above hers, staring ever down, down, down.
Maleficent smiles, something sinister, and she yanks her staff back easily out of Malâs fist. âDo you know what I think?â she asks, the point of her staff hovering just above the stones. âI think⌠whatâs between us are three little problems⌠and he happens to be one.â
With that, her staff comes down in an almighty bang, cracking open the stones and ushering in the guardsâa group of boar-headed men with wide-set, matte black eyes set in wiry, mud-brown fur. They are dressed in leather armour with a dragon scale design, and various weapons hang from their belts or are carried in their handsâ
They need no instruction beyond the simplest nod.
Carlos bites down on the first hand that reaches past him, trying for a fistful of Malâs hair to drag her up. He draws a crude noise from the guard heâs wounded, but another moves in quick enoughâ
Mal is grabbed tight around the waist, weakening her kicks as she gasps for breath. Carlos is hoisted by the scruff of his jacket, but he writhes so much that he slips out from it easily, landing light on his feet, where he would normally make a break for it, exceptâ
âCarlos,â Mal chokes out, a note of pleading in her voice.
He knows what she wants, what sheâs trying to tell him.
He knows, if she could manage, she would say itâs an order.
But he doesnât try to run.
Malâs desperate eyes are the last he sees before a guard comes up behind him, pulling a sack down over his head and drawing the string tight, making him reach for his neck before his hands are roughly yanked away and burly arms lift him off his feet again.
Thick as the bag is over his head, the noises around him are slightly muffled, but loud as his breathing now sounds in his own ears, he hears Maleficent sigh, like this is all some inconvenienceâ
âPrepare the birdcage,â she addresses the guards, âand some chains for the mutt. No food, no water.â She pauses, then adds with a dark sense of promise, âIf even one escapes, there will be pork roast for dinner, do you quite understand? Good. Now, to the dungeon.â
Maleficentâs dungeon is not unfamiliar.
Mal, Carlos, Jay, and Evie had plumbed the depths of the castle when they were all children. That was different than this, being carried down blind, hearing the echoes deepen, feeling the damp press in, a chill like deathâs hands, goosebumps spreadingâ
There is sobbing, screaming, quiet moaning, and pleas behind the first door that opens at the bottom of the stairwell. They pass on through without a word from the guards or Maleficent herself.
Several more doors open and all sense of presence in the cells fades away to nothing. Now, there is only the footsteps, the rattle of chains and the clank of metal, words exchanged between the boar men in a guttural language, and underneath it all, the faintest of whimpersâ
âYou see now,â says Maleficent, âwhat your defiance will cost you, so I wonderâŚâ She trails off and Carlos hears some shuffling, feels the bodies shift around him, and a hand pressing down on his headâ
Heâs forced onto his knees.
The bag is ripped away to reveal Mal, standing in front of him, with her mother behind her, one clawed hand on her shoulderâthe other holding a knife, offering it for Mal to takeâ
But Malâs just looking at Carlos.
âSlit his throat,â Maleficent whispers into her trembling daughterâs ear, lips close enough that she must tickle the flesh, âand I may just reconsider your punishment.â She trails her hand down from Malâs shoulder, grabbing her wrist and guiding her puppet-like to grasp the knife. âGo on,â she urges. âHis life is yours. He belongs to you. Thatâs what youâve told me. Now, Iâm telling you⌠to prove itâŚâ
âMal,â says Carlos, barely audible. Iâll come back goes unsaid.
She knows that. She knows that. Why wonât she just kill him?
This is the closest to mercy she will get from her mother.
Malâs fingers twitch and Carlos holds his breath. He watches, heart pounding, as she slowly takes the knife, and thenâmuch quicker than he can process such a stupid fucking decisionâsheâs whirling around, poised to stab her mother���s chest, no hesitation at allâ
But Maleficent reacts, too fast for Mal to land the blade.
Her wrist is ensnared. Her motherâs face is stony.
This time, the knife is dropped.
It clatters to Malâs feet and lays there, abandoned.
The silence that follows seems almost unnatural, as thick as it isâlike a spell that can be broken by only Maleficent. And she does, but at her leisure, first gripping Malâs chin with a punishing pressureâ
âDo you want so much to die?â she asks, voice low and predatory.
Mal just stares at her, breathing hard and ragged, a soft-edged anger in her eyes, like fear is threatening to resurfaceâ
She has no time to react before Maleficent withdraws her hand and brings it back with a hard slap that echoes off the stone walls and almost seems to make the torches flicker. The force of the blow should send Mal to her knees, but Maleficent grabs her, fisting her jacket, yanking her up. She takes a fistful of Malâs hair and whips her head toward Carlos, forcing her to meet his eyes againâ
âANSWER ME, GIRL. WOULD YOU DIE FOR THIS DOG?â
Carlos, holding Malâs gaze, almost imperceptibly shakes his head.
Mal stares at him for a moment, eyes bright with unshed tears, then her expression hardens and she spits blood at the ground, a trickle of red spit dribbling down her chin as she strains to tilt her head back and look at her mother, saying everything with her silenceâ
Maleficentâs lip curls. Her knuckles whiten, paler than paleâas though her skin is translucent, showing the bones. âVery well.â
She stoops, bending down to Malâs earâ
âBut know that, this time, you will not be buried.â
Maleficent straightens to her full, monstrous height, shoving Mal to her knees before she commands her, voice thunderous, to surrender her weapons, her jewelry, her outer clothing and her bootsâ
Pridefully, Mal looks back up at her mother as she moves to comply, slipping out of her jacket to show the knives strapped to her arms.
She removes them, one by one, and simply tosses them aside.
Carlos watches, breathing ragged, red creeping in at the edges of his vision. Sheâs giving upâand for what? âFUCK YOU, MAL!â he bursts out, startling the guards on either side of him; their grip on him had slackened, so he slides easily to the ground. âIâm not fucking worth it,â he growls, staring dead into Malâs eyes. She looks stunned, on the verge of anger; then, the knifeâs pulled from his boot, andâ
âNO!â Sheâs up on her feet, lunging for Carlos before a pale, clawed hand hooks her upper arm, dragging her back with an effortless tug.
Carlosâ knife is at his own throat, and the guards who, at first, had moved to disarm him, are melting slowly back away. Their eyes are ever on their mistress, who has one hand raisedâa silent command.
âCarlos,â Mal gasps softly, straining hard against her motherâs hold.
His eyes are raised above her head.
Maleficent is smirking.
She⌠wants him toâŚ
Carlos falters, lowering the point of the knife from his throat to his collarbone. He looks at Mal, takes a breath, makes his decisionâ
And plunges the knife into the nearest boar manâs knee.
They squeal and the sound of it, so piercingly loud, rings in Carlosâ ears as the guards bear down. He thinks, for a second, somewhere through the din, that he hears Mal laughâin spite of everythingâ
The thought is interrupted by a boot to his gut, leaving him winded. No time to catch his breath before heâs dragged up by his armsâand Mal is screaming now. Heâs sure of that. He canât focus on the words because thereâs too much stimulationâthe rattling of chains, the icy bite of metal, the hot breath on his face. He tenses under large hands checking over him for weapons, taking each as theyâre discoveredâ
Carlosâ too-small boots are yanked off and he briefly feels the stone floor, burning cold beneath his bare feet; then, the chains hooked to his wrists are pulled up sharply toward the ceiling. The ground goes out from under him and he struggles not to flail, feeling panic swell up in him. He strains to touch the ground, but only manages on his tiptoesâand thatâs only for a moment before a hard shove sends him swinging, shooting pain down through his shouldersâ
The boar men snort with laughter as Carlos struggles, seemingly in vain. He gets a grip on the chains attached to his shackles and, with all the upper body strength he can muster, swings himself with legs outstretchedâjust when the guards have turned their backs to him.
He catches the nearest one around the neck, legs quickly constricting until the boar man starts to choke, clawing at Carlosâ skinny ankles as two of his fellows rush to assist himâ
One grabs hold of Carlosâ leg and tries to pry it back, even almost succeedingâuntil his sweaty hands slip and Carlosâ leg snaps back with force, catching the choking man right in the snout. His tusks dig in to Carlosâ flesh, but the pain is distant from Carlosâ furyâ
Until the weight of a spiked club connects with his hip.
He bites down on a cry as his legs come loose from around the boar menâs neck and heavily succumb to gravity. His shoulders ache and his hip throbs and he feels numbness in his fingertips.
Still, when a guard stoops to seize his good leg, Carlos spits down at their head and meets a snarl with a snarl. His ankle is shackled to a short length of chain, attached to an iron ball thatâs set a little away.
His toes can touch it if he stretches, but itâs too heavy to drag nearer in any hope that he could stand on it, so he just glowers at the boar men as their numbers start to dissipateâ
And Mal comes sharply back into focus.
She looks beaten down, quite literally, on her knees in front of her mother, wearing nothing but her thin, black underwear. Thereâs an open cage behind her, in the shape of a person much taller than her, albeit nowhere as tall as Maleficent, with her horns that scrape the ceiling. She is a god here on the Isle and she carries herself as one.
Huge, even at a distance, Maleficentâs stare turning suddenly on Carlos makes him feel like a lame deer in a grizzlyâs line of sight.
âStill alive, I see,â Maleficent remarks.
Malâs head jerks up and she meets Carlosâ eyes.
âThereâs cruelty in you yet, child, to not have spared him this torture when I gave you the chance.â Maleficent smiles, but it doesnât reach her eyes. âHis pain will be immeasurable, and all becauseâŚâ She tips forward, bending at the waist, one hand slowly extending until she cups Malâs stubborn chin and forces it upward. âYou are a sadistic, selfish little girl,â Maleficent coos, her voice like poisoned honey.
Mal tries to shake her head, but her mother holds her chin tight.
âHe begged for a quick death, but you denied himâŚâ
âSHUT UP!â Carlos bellows, writhing in his chains despite the pain that lances through him. He canât listen anymore. He canât just feel this helpless. âYOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW?â He glares at Maleficent, all fear in him burnt up.
The air seems almost to coagulate, growing thick with a tension that holds the guards in their places, their eyes on their mistress as she rises to her full height, reaches out to take her staff, andâ
âDONâT HURT HIM!â Mal bursts out, struggling up to her feet. She puts her arms out like a pair of spread wingsâa feeble sort of shield.
Maleficent simply takes her staff in hand, face plain and unmoved.
âSpeak again,â she says, addressing Carlos, âand I will cut out your tongue.â She looks at Mal, eyes dead of emotion, then lifts her staff and slams it down against the stone. âEnough of my time has been wasted on you.â She circles behind Mal, who turns to face her, wary as a mouse in the presence of Bastet. âHad I only known youâd be so human, so stupid and WEAKâŚâ She takes a menacing step forward, backing Mal up to the birdcage. âThis would have been your cradle.â
Maleficent shoves Mal and she goes stumbling backwards, right into the cage. Her head slams against the iron bars and she sinks dazedly down onto what feels like a stove with the switch just flicked onâ
Her mother steps back and gestures for a boar manâone who shuts the iron cage, turns the key in the padlock, thenâthrowing his head back, jaws open to the ceilingâdrops the key right down his throat and forces a swallow. He suppresses a cough before opening up his mouth again, presenting his throat for Maleficentâs inspectionâ
She perks an eyebrow, leaning over him, then gives a curt nod of approval. âFinish it,â she says with a snap of her fingers, and two boar men rush to operate a pulley made stubborn with rustâ
Maleficent watches as the birdcage is raised several feet in the airâthen higher still at her direction. Only when it is hanging out of the reach of any normal person does she utter, âThere. Now secure it.â
Mal chokes down a whimper, just now starting to squirm.
Her mother regards her without any emotion, and somehow, thatâs worseâworse than laughter or gloating or even⌠disappointment, because if Malâs blood were pure, she would already be screaming.
âMom.â The word escapes Mal as Maleficent turns her backâ
She stopsâand from his vantage point, Carlos sees her teeth flash.
Itâs a moment, only, and then sheâs icily calm. âGuards,â she says, and they come quickly to attention, awaiting her orders. She holds the room in silence uncomfortably long, slowly tapping her fingers against her staff. âYou will inform Jafar and Evil Queen that I have withdrawn protection of their wretched whelps. Furthermore, that I will not tolerate any sight of the two in the shadow of my castleâand should they appear to darken my doorstep⌠I expect you will report to me with a body to be buried. Do you quite understand?â
She glances over her shoulder, then starts toward the door.
Mal stares after her wide-eyed, fists clenched tight around the iron bars. Her knuckles are bloodless, but her palms are reddening.
Her lips are parted, but she doesnât speak.
Carlos is quiet, tooâteeth grit so hard, his jaw aches. Heâs breathing hard through his nose, glowering at Maleficent as she glides through the door, and all the boar men with her. The door slams shut and the jail keys jingle, locking up this cell that will, in days, become a tomb.
When all the footsteps have faded, Carlos finally screamsâ
Pure fury. Unspent anger. Hatred. Bloodlust. Wrath.
Heâs not afraid. He will come back. He will come back. Heâs not afraid. Death is familiar. He will come back. Heâs not afraid. It isnât that. Itâs not the dying. Not the torture. Deathâs familiar. So is pain.
Itâs just thatâif he hadnât kissed herâ
Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. And feel free to subscribe on AO3 if you want to be alerted when the next chapter comes out. Kudos and comments are lovely, as well! âĽ
#descendants#marlos#rotten OT4#descendants fanfiction#my fanfiction#my writing#descendants fandom#man it took me like a week to get this chapter out of my brain#it kept making me sad so I had to stop writing ajkgjsdkg#but it's finally here#and chapter two is vivid in my mind#so I will start writing that soon#though I might finish evil puppy carlos's adventures first#we shall see we shall see#I am really on a marlos kick#but I promise Jay and Evie are coming next chapter#and they have a huge role to play#plus they are going to commit crimes!#nothing like a murderous jayvie <3
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Susan Pevensie being a companion of the Doctor, is that anything??
#susan pevensie#the doctor#the chronicles of narnia#doctor who#chronicles of narnia#dr who#tcon#dw#susan pevensie and the doctor#the doctor and susan pevensie#theyâre both British and horribly traumatized#Susan already has experience with crazy supernatural stuff#she already has experience with time dilation#alternate universes#and most importantly#she has no one to go back to#thereâs nothing stopping her from being a Companion#and for the doctorâs side#where do I start?#that could be a post in itself#but here goes#theyâre lonely#they want a friend#and Susan is right there#Plus trauma bonding#one of my best friends is trapped in a parallel universe â my entire family is trapped in a parallel universe too#my entire family is dead â my entire species (barring a few exceptions) are dead#Iâm a war criminal; Iâve committed war crimes â me too!#when I die I regenerate itâs kind of like aging backwards â Iâve done that#I canât I believe I forgot Susan and Susan interacting?!
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do my anti-genocidal views bore you? or have i offended you with them?? gosh, i am so sorry. i just canât imagine why that is⌠itâs probably because iâm so ignorant and stupid. it definitely has nothing to do with you as a person!! iâll have to work really, REALLY hard to unlearn this toxic behavior. but once i do, we can spread cruelty together!! hand in hand. as a team. â¤ď¸
#this culture of apathy is going to turn me into a super villain#iâm so sorry i stopped posting about star wars for a second to talk about an ACTUAL GENOCIDE#to the longtime mutual i lost because of how much i post about palestine#go on and stick your head in sand then#i guess youâre not as âchaotically goodâ as you think#plus all the zionists iâve encountered online & in real life#yâall need to get a grip because genocide is always bad. yes even when the victims arenât white.#free palestine#palestinian children#children of palestine#palestine genocide#save palestine#help palestine#end israel's genocide#end israeli terror#end israeli apartheid#end israeli siege#end israeli occupation#stop israel#israel is committing war crimes#israel is a war criminal#israel is committing genocide#anti zionisim
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Idea first came to me after I said something like "a thousand needles sewing you to a canvas of pain" and so I decided to make it real as best I could.
#does this count as#sculpture#my art#color says shit#Ford's Art#<- figured I needed an actual art tag since I'm actually doing more stuff so that's it I guess.#now I have to go back and edit the tags on all my old art stuff#gonna tag this as#body horror#just in case. some of those threads are actually going through my skin so it's worth tagging.#anyway. I'm finally finished with it! ngl I finished and was like 'what if I don't post it I just keep it privately?'#but I'm continuing my exposure therapy by posting art publicly so here.#anyway. it's no dismembered hand stitched to a canvas but it's the best I could do without going full Hannibal and committing medical crime#I used glue at the start to sew through before giving up and just figuring out how much skin I could get the needle through#I'm gonna feel it tomorrow for sure#do you have any idea how hard this was with just one hand. I had to use my toes as extra fingers to thread the needle every time I ran out#I wanted more tension on the threads but with only one hand and anchors that threatened to rip out I couldn't really#plus the left side was easier to sew because I was using my left hand. the right side was significantly more difficult#as evidenced by the significantly worse stitching on that side#I think I should have stuck with the glue though because it makes the pull marks like I wanted#it makes the thread have more of a meat-hook feel and weight rather than just light thread pulled through stiff skin#I like the left side better than the right. and the upper right is the least convincing
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If your response to "free palestine" is "but do you condemn hamas/october 7th" you haven't been listening to palestinians or palestinian liberation supporters
palestinian support for Hamas has only ever grown as a result of the subjugation of Palestinians by the ISRAELI GOVERNMENT. THE IDF IS ACTIVELY COMMITTING ACTS OF TERROR AND LITERAL WAR CRIMES IN GAZA not to mention the fucking west Bank which Hamas has ZERO control over and yet still people are fucking dying, no one fucking WANTS hamas to be this popular but they are because thus far they are the loudest most apt force to combat the atrocious actions of the Israeli government (literal ethnic cleansing)
Anyone who says free palestine/condemn the idf is not also saying GO HAMAS KILL THE JEWS- and anyone with even a modicum of critical thinking skills could EASILY see that
#'do you condemn hamas blah blah blah' WELL FUCKING DUUUH#DO YOU CONDEMN THE IDF FOR COMMITTING LITERAL WAR CRIMES? HMMMM??????#only one of us has uncertain footing here buddy#free palestine#israel hamas war#israel hamas conflict#fuck the idf#im so fucking sick of 'but hamas killed civilians' 'what about the innocent civilians'#oh you mean the Israeli civilians right? yeah everyone has been mourning for them since the 7th#weve all condemned hamas for the festival#but i guess were not gonna talk about the three thousand plus palestinian civilians that have been ruthlessly slaughtered since then huh?#or the violent occupation thats been going on since 1948? and all the civilians - both palestinian and israeli#that have died as a result?#no i didnt think so#were just gonna keep letting israel massacre babies and families in the name of taking down hamas
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raven and jgy are also kind of complete opposite characters bc jgy's entire teenage and young adult life was about trying to find a way to become his evil father's right hand man and raven's entire teenage and young adult life was about avoiding her evil father's attempts to make her his right hand woman.
#so mdzs is kind of like if there was a side character who was like raven except it was raven whose dad hated her and she wanted his love#so bad that she got so smart and good at committing evil crimes in the hopes that he would notice and love her#but then he only used her and never loved her and in the end she realized he was just a piece of shit rapist and killed him plus 29 women#AND THEN her old best friend. whose older brother/father figure she killed while working for her own dad. knew what she had done#and concocted a whole plan that would out raven as evil (and in mdzs this raven cares so much about her reputation like sooo much)#if raven did not kill herself. and then the friend changed her mind (its a girl friend if raven is a girl) and tricked raven's best friend#into killing her. and also the old friend had dug up arella's body and destroyed it.#the end :)#ALSO ON THE OTHER HAND. so ntt is like what is jgy was raised by a cult who taught him cultivation but made him feel guilty about it#and that he had to use it to help people or he was evil. bc he was born evil and has to change it#and he has no friends and no mother. they didnt even let him talk to his mother#and he realizes that in order to save the world from himself he has to leave his mother and everything he knows#and he can never go back. and the people he finds to help him don't understand him and he doesn't understand them#and he still has to use his cultivation to help people and everytime he does it hurts him#and he thinks he made a mistake to leave his home because his evil father is getting even closer and closer and everything hurts so much#and it is so much harder now to not be angry. and he cant ask anyone for help because he left behind the person who would always tell him#how to get rid of emotions#THE END i dont actually know the end of raven's story alskdjf havent read that far#jgy#raven
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i love having roommates because i get to find out that the "normal" things i learned at home are, in fact, not normal
#dk posts#this is about me pushing the trash down when the can starts getting full#my roommates call this 'raw dogging the trash' and act like im committing a crime?#im just making more room so we don't have to waste a garbage bag?#its not like i touch food or nothing i use a paper bag or plate that im tossing to compact everything#i thought this was normal help#also they bully me for brushing my teeth in the shower#i want all of me to be clean it's efficient i swear#plus i always shower right when i get up or before i go to bed so i might as well
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this new tumblr live update is the dumbest thing and Iâm sick of going to search something and accidentally almost going on live 37588x times a day. please get rid of it.
#plus all the blogs going on live showing at the top of my feed look sketch af#like they would be committing hate crimes on twitter why the hell are u on tumblr sketch#letâs not#tumblr#live
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What I learned from this documentary is Tory was sexually harassing Megan while she repeatedly said no, & was heavily intoxicated.
You cannot consent to sex while under the influence. That leprechaun is a rapist/predator.
Megan initially lying to protect Tory isnât that hard to understand if you understand how IPV works. And then, as we should hope for all victims, she found the strength, courage and safety to tell her truth. And he ended up right where he should have; in jail.
And hereâs Something thatâs being missed about the Megan/Tory situation If you carelessly handle a weapon and accidentally shoot someone, you still shot them. Thats really it. Even if it wasnât your intent, you go to jail.
I legit started balling when they showed Megan receiving the news that Tory was found guilty. After the shooting, that man harassed her, bullied her and even violated a restraining order she placed. Heâs the devil and I hope they extend his sentence.
#made me mad#all over again#because watching yall defend him#in real time#after literally committing#a crime was very insane#& I want his ass deported#back to Canada when he get out.#they need to take him out back like a dirty dog#shoothim#â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸#This whole case had me changing my opinions and views(at least for the moment)#celebrating the police and the system#being xenophobic towards Canadian people#posting stories with reader plus white celebrities with fluffy or smutty material#nearly being racist towards black men#saying that some of them nigcels deserved to be another hashtag#and backing the death penalty.#megan thee stallion#iâm not sad for her#iâm outraged#iâm just glad sheâs in a better place now#those people can speak for themselves they know who they are#and they can go straight to hell#they will pay for their crimes#for sucking that abusers meat#Instagram#As always a loud and sincere fuck you to everyone who has doubted her and supported that Canadian cuntery who must not be named#She went through unnecessary trauma for two years#Thatâs unforgivable
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i'm trying to get work done but there's this panic attack that i'm beating back that's creeping around, pls stop
#...do you wanna look prettier than usual? Bc I'll certainly be#visibly queer#i committed to going to a formal eevent on the 21st#and i do not fit in any of my formal wear i own#so i have to figure out how to look i want to be queer but i don't want to get hate crimed ya know#maybe i'll go with some kind of âpantsuitâ they seem more my vibe#that plus my beard and short hair is pretty solidly conservaqueer#also my buddy that's coming to be the emotional support dog to my anxious cheetah is willing/interested in wearing some makeup/accessories#he doesn't usually look visibly queer but he is queer and wants me to be comfy too so he's down to look fun#(also is one of those people who is actually trans but has decided not to transition in any way for a variety of reasons and i'm one of#the people (i actually might be the only person who knows) so i was like . give the egg some pretty time :3 )
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very excited, just bought some new smaller bowls and one of those gravity/weight veggie choppers with a mandolin slicer; making tasty, pretty meals is gonna be so much easier!!!
#cc og#I really struggle with food prep bc I have very little free time and even less energy#I've basically been relying on pre-chopped stuff which is actually pretty hard to find#plus it goes bad really fast#just prepping strawberries is gonna be so much easier!!! deffo gonna commit some crimes against grapes tho#they might get aesthetically chopped or they might become a mash#also I've been craving cucumbers but actually slicing just flat out does not happen so they go bad in my fridge đ#classes were cancelled due to weather today so I'm gonna be meal planning so I can do grocery planning today!!!
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Let's give palestine a veto right, or all countries that been colonialized before (except US) and never colonize any country
i think giving countries who were colonized veto ALSO isnt a great idea. firstly, criteria of colonized will still give USA veto (and so does Canada, Australia, i can go on). the very definition of colonization would still cause problems.
and UN needs to have the diplomacy and for that no country, regardless of their history and current economical/military power, gets veto. and i think the votes for humanitarian relief very much show us that the world isnt that hopeless as we think!
#it is v tempting to go 'heyyy what if we give veto to the oppresed!!' but it still keeps the system. and we dont need that#plus its absurd to thinkt hat simply because a country was colonized/invaded then they wouldnt commit crimes#i can assure you thats not true#asks
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Just called the police lol. Howâs everyoneâs night going
#i was minding my own goddamn business and heard a series of bloodcurdling screams#which in itself is not too insane. if thereâs one thing i know itâs that people be screaming when literally nothing is happening to them#which is something i have thoughts on. but suffice to say i feel like screaming as if youâre being murdered when youâre Not being murdered#is a weird move. ever heard of the boy who cried wolf? anyway#something about this scream⌠well series of screams didnât sit right with me. i instinctively leapt up from my couch (bear in mind i have#an injured knee. this wasnât an easy process) and flung myself across the room to look out the window#and i see a boy on a bike. heâs a bit smaller than a grown man so probably like 15-16. riding FAST and there was something⌠gleeful?#about his body language. that plus the scream made my blood run cold because it honest to god looked like he was chasing someone#he was followed by a smaller boy. probably 12 or something. also on a bike#they were both wearing hoodies with their hoods up⌠on a warm night in august. hmm. no lights on their bikes; no helmets; no bells#i didnât see whoever they were chasing but i just felt like that scream was not right. i was like âdo i call someone????â#i live in a pretty safe neighbourhood but i know someone was sexually assaulted in an alleyway near here. there was a rumour about who it#was that committed it but idk if anyone was ever actually charged or faced any sort of punishment for that#so i honestly went back and forth deciding whether or not to call but ultimately i was like⌠even if this IS some kids dicking around#theyâre not going to get in trouble for dicking around. theyâre literally white kids. theyâll just be told âhey maybe donât ride around#screaming your heads offâ. but if it IS a crime thatâs currently taking place; it wouldnât sit well with me if i didnât call#and be like âhey can you send a squad car around the village and see if thereâs a distressed girl running from some lads with mal intent?â#(iâm almost certain it was a young girl screaming. the sound wasnât coming from those boys. and it didnât sound like it could even be a boy#with a high pitched voice or who was going through puberty)#i justâŚ.. idk. if some kids are about to get the fright of their life from some yorkshire cop iâm SORRY okay#just donât scream like that!!!#it was the scream plus how gleeful the lad in front looked. you donât scream in distress like that if youâre being chased as part of a game#thatâs all iâm saying thank you for listening#personal
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The Last Laugh
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival. This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.
warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?) words: 5,3k a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it
...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...
"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."
The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?
According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?
"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."
"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"
Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."
"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"
"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."
She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"
"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."
"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"
Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."
She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."
Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"
She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."
Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."
"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."
"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."
Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."
Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."
She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.
Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.
"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."
Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."
That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?
Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonightâor ever, for that matter.
She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.
"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.
A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"
"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"
Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."
Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"
Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."
She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.
Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.
"This must be hard for you," he commented.
"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.
"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."
Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."
"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"
Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."
Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"
She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"
She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.
She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.
"Should I help you jog your memory back?"
Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."
His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"
She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounterâcould you call sex as simple?âhad turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.
She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."
His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"
"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"
"We could share the bed."
She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity andâ"
"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."
He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bedâit's all deeply rooted in human history."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."
Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."
She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"
"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.
"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his faceâthe sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.
Shit.
"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."
"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."
"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."
"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"
Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.
"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."
She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."
"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."
Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at onceâeach of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.
Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.
It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.
"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."
"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.
Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.
Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushedâa sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.
Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.
"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"
Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.
"Beg me."
She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.
"Beg me."
"Fuck youâah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bellâa bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.
"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."
And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.
He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.
With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.
If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.
Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.
"W-What are you doing?"
There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.
"Taking matters into my own hands."
Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.
"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."
Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.
"But I can satisfy myself just fine."
And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.
With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."
Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.
He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her bodyâher luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.
She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.
He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.
"Spencer," she moaned.
That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.
"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."
A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.
His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.
When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.
It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.
"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.
But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.
"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."
He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"
Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.
And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.
"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.
"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."
He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.
He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.
His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.
Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.
"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."
Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.
Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.
Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.
The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.
She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.
She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.
But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blastâwhite-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm.Â
He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.
"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me toâ"
"Inside."
He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are youâ" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"
She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.
"Yes. Please, justâplease,"Â she whispered. "Cum inside me."
It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.
With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.
Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.
"Well that wasâ"
She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."
Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."
His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.
"Where are you going?"
"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."
She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"
"I feel sticky too."
"Spencer."
His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."
She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."
"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."
She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless.Â
"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."
He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.
Not that she was complaining.
.
a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute
.
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I know this page now is filled with Mafia KĂśnig, and Monster KĂśnig, and Slasher KĂśnig, but it was revealed to me in a dream- Executioner KĂśnig. Apparently, (though I don't have a source) given that the profession often met with isolation, which obviously made it hard to find a bride. Some executioners if they weren't married already, could pardon a woman prisoner if she agreed to marry him. Now enter, all in white, Reader that has commited an unspecified crime. It's still enough to be on death row for it. But Konig, seeing her, just can't let such a pretty thing die. He's lonely, and not getting any younger....
Cut to Reader confused later in life how her life from stealing or conning went to cooking potatoes and warming his bed at night while he's busy ripping someone's intestines out.
(plus fucking Reader in a pillory as a treat)
You prayed every night. They gave you a week before the execution - threw you in a cold basement, dampened your feet in water, and waited until you begged for the sentence to come faster. They couldn't - the royal executioner was out on the road from another city, and they couldn't have a royal maid to be killed by some commoner. You thought you'd have time to let them know how you didn't do what you did - how you were innocent all along if only crime for protecting yourself. No one listened, of course. The royal executioner has cold hands, and you can almost feel them preparing for the torture. This is what he is going to do, you think - put you in a pillory, slowly rip you from inside out. A fitting punishment is to dump your common blood so everyone can see just how much of a filth you are. Konig knows he has a right to you - a royal maid, probably framed. Maybe you are guilty- but he looked at your wide eyes and tear-stained face, and he didn't really care. You have soft legs and nice hips, a body that even prisoner's rags couldn't hide. You'd give him nice, fat babies - about a litter of them, poor bastard living with their father's profession. Daughters never get married, and sons get themselves wives in a similar fashion. Konig draps a hand over your thighs, under the rags - you're filthy, but he never minded. Can clean you up after, make you a wife. Honest woman, getting clean with his cock lodged deep in your cunt. He always liked girls from the royal district - clean, fresh, looking small like dolls on their fast legs. Like deers in the forest, except that he can now get himself one. Like catching a forest nymph. You don't even whimper as he drags a hand over your pussy, fingering you slowly - learned his way with brothel girls, always too nervous to actually do something, but also too horny not to. No one would be with an executioner willingly, so he would fuck you until heaven and the crown would forgive you and then would put a nice ring on your finger. Drag you to his house and made you his made - and his princess, too. Would buy you a dozen little goose feather pillows and a soft blanket from a foreign merchant so your body would forget the cold and the depth of the dungeon. He knows you'd be a good housewife because you managed to work in a castle - he doesn't care if it was the lower quarters if you only worked with other servants. He calls you a princess in bed and gets expensive cuts of lamb to cook. You burn your first one, roasting it too much, not knowing how to deal with meat if it's not made from scraps - and he ate it anyway, nuzzling his face into your breasts later as if asking for seconds. Puts a baby in you two months after the wedding. Haggles with merchants for soothing herbs and tortures 5 people per day for a bigger cut of what was in their pockets. Gets you a really nice bracelet out of some poor merchanting bastard, and you wore it like a shackle, your hands still trembling lightly when embracing him. The smell of your hair makes him forget about blood, and he clings to your body like a dog whenever he is home. Konig couldn't be happier.
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Happy July 4th, everyone, and good luck to the UK voters out there!
Wow it's Year 11 of doing these!! Here's the AO3 link to the past 10 years, and here's the tumblr link.
Reminder that this is a long game -- some of the judges making decisions were appointed back in the 80s. Many of the cases that were decided this round were from Trump's term. So it's going to take long-term, consistent voting over a decade to start tipping things in the other direction. (Which I talked about in 2018 re: Trump shenanigans and 2022 re: Dobbs).
A lot has been done by the Biden administration (I'm assuming most folks have seen this post by boreal-sea with their very helpful sources), and much of that will be overturned by Trump, especially if he gets the Senate, and especially now that he would have a blank check for anything "official". So let's make sure that doesn't happen.
And even if Trump does get elected, your decisions down-ballot might effect control of the House or Senate, or might make it easier to vote next time, plus the whole plethora of state and local issues. It's Republican state attorney generals who are challenging climate regulations, for example.
Plus, when you really get down to it, only one of the candidates plans on pardoning himself and all his friends if he wins, and attacking the government if he loses. Maybe that guy shouldn't be the President.
If you're new to voting, remember to check voter registration deadlines! I'm a permanent vote-by-mail voter and it's so nice. :)
Transcript under the readmore
Page 1: Sam and Bucky meet up with Steve for a picnic. Steve: Thought you guys were still in Sudan? Bucky: Iâm forcing Sam to take a break.
Sam collapses onto the picnic blanket. Sam: Oof, it just never stops, does it? Steve: Nope.
Bucky hands Sam an orange popsicle. Bucky: Eat and relax for a bit, Sam. Sam: Thanks.
Page 2: Bucky asks Steve: How are things state-side? Steve responds: HORRIBLE. Bucky: I thought youâve been tentatively hopeful about what Biden has been able to achieve? Steve: I was! Student loans, child care, climate regulations, infrastructure, labor, trans rights ⌠heâs quietly done a lot through regulatory improvements and congress bills. But now all people will talk about is how heâs OLD. And then thereâs the Supreme Courtâs decisions ⌠Chevron and immunity⌠Steve puts his head in his hands, while Sam and Bucky look on with some concern.
Page 3: Bucky hands Steve a blue/raspberry popsicle: Steve, take a deep breath, and a popsicle. Sam: Sounds like we missed a lot. Whatâs going on? How bad is it? Steve: Pretty bad. The Supreme Court has made some decisions that give the Court and the President A LOT of discretionary power. Sam: Yikes, that doesnât sound good. Steve: Well, the Chevron thing means that judges with life-term appointments can override policies made by government agencies. And now itâll be harder to hold a President accountable because he will have immunity for any âofficialâ actions.
Page 4: Sam: So if the President tries to, say, overturn a democratic election result, heâll be allowed to as long as itâs in his job description? Steve: I donât think threatening state electors is âofficialâ business, but that will be decided by federal judges. Who get their jobs by approval from both the President and the Senate. Bucky: Yeesh. No wonder youâre stressed. Any good news? Steve: Well, thanks the Biden and the razor-thin Senate majority, the newer bills donât rely on the Chevron deference. Still not great but not catastrophic. Sam, squirting ketchup on his hot dog: So what Iâm hearing is that itâs now more important than ever to have a President and a Senate who you can trust to appoint fair judges, pass bills, and not commit crimes.
Page 5: Steve: Plus all of the state level offices, now that more and more deciding power has been thrown back to the states â abortion, LGBTQ rights, voting access⌠Bucky: Hey, at least this is a big election year so we can actually do something! Steve, with his arms crossed, looking surly: Except that all people want to talk about is how Biden is âtoo oldâ and ânot doing enough,â as if that is on par with Trumpâs desire to dismantle basic rights! As if the candidate who doesnât embody ALL their ideals is not worth voting for! Bucky interrupts with a smart and a loud âPFFT.â
Page 6: Bucky: Um, Steve. YOU were like that in 1940. Sam, nudging Bucky: âOh, this I gotta hear. Spill, Barnes.â In sepia, Steve is pacing around their apartment while Bucky is sitting and reading a newspaper. Steve: I canât believe heâs running for a 3rd term! we need a fresh candidate to vote for! This is hardly a choice at all! AND he refuses to engage in Europe! All of Europe under fascist control and weâre just twiddling our thumbs? Heâs letting millions die through his inaction! Bucky: Most people donât want another war, Steve. If he came out for it, he would lose. Steve, indignant: But Buck, itâs your Polish relative who are in danger! Bucky, closing his newspaper and looking at Steve: Yeah, and between FDR and Willkes, I trust FDR to help if he could.
Page 7: Steve, in sepia, looking away: Should he be encouraged to do more? Maybe I should vote for Browder. The Communists have historically be Anti-Fascist.
Sam interrupts off-screen: Waitaminute! STEVE was going to PROTEST-VOTE? Steve: We were in a Blue State, Sam! Sam: But what about the down ballot races?! Steve: RELAX, I did my due diligence down-ballot. I wanted a senate thatâs more progressive than the President.Voted LaGuardia for Mayor, too. Steve hesitates: Then, when I got to the President⌠I realized that the Best case scenario would be that my vote did nothing, versus if it actually spoiled the election. And when I asked myself who I could trust to work with my Senator⌠well, FDR had a good record with Labor. (sepia shot of young Steve voting) Bucky interrupts: Hold on, Steve.
Page 8: Bucky, eating a cookie, arching an eyebrow: You didnât vote for Browder? Why didnât you tell me? Steve: And have you say âI told you soâ for the next century? Bucky: Heh.
Steve, with hand on his chin: Whatâs weird was that, despite everything, I still felt HORRIBLE when I ticked that box. Sam: Sounds like you built up the meaning of that vote far too much in your head. Logically, we know that a single box canât represent all of the complexity of a whole system, but the desperately WANT it to. Just look at how people have built up so much around the term âZionisâ that itâs made productive conversations difficult.
Page 9: Sam and Steve speak in the background while Bucky reaches into the cooler and pulls out a box. Steve: Sigh. And thatâs something that goes beyond the election. Sam: Which is why we need to vote, AND do other things. Bucky, looking at Steve and Sam: Like how Steve works to push organizations on the local level? Or like all the work you do as Captain America? Sam: Exactly. Vote AND.
Sam looks at Bucky fondly: Like how you vote AND make me and Steve take breaks. Bucky, looking stern because he canât handle compliments: Shush, Sam.
Bucky holds up a cake that has the number â107â on it: Itâs time for cake. Happy Birthday, Steve.
#happy birthday steve#supreme court#election#steve rogers#bucky barnes#sam wilson#11th year holy fuck#mine#my comic#oh hey i'm traveling for the next month so i might be not very responsive#longpost is long but I think everyone has the longpost shrinker by default now?
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