#some mild creepy vibes but that's the point --

[bottombaron]

ranking the Thunderbolts characters by how likely they are Zemo in disguise

some context: a character being revealed as Zemo in disguise in a genuinely unexpected twist is somehow hilariously common for the character in the comics (if i had a nickle for each time i’d have at least four, and that's almost a whole quarter!). most notably however it’s in the very first introduction of the Thunderbolts team. the Thunderbolts are kind of synonymous with a Zemo related twist at this point. basically, with the DC not-alive-anymore-by-choice squad you can count on the team having their implanted neck-bombs and with the Thunderbolts you can count on Zemo being hidden somewhere like a murderous purple Where’s Waldo.

SO, while everyone is like “where is Zemo?” and “why isn’t Zemo in the Thunderbolts movie?”, i remain steadfast in certainty that he’s going to show up in the third act,,, despite there being literally no evidence to the contrary. also this is just for fun so don’t take it seriously unless i’m right then i told you so.

these rankings go from least to most likely

0 / 10

Ava Starr

-because Zemo knows better

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1 / 10

John Walker

-he would have to dress up in an American propaganda outfit

-Zemo might have to intimately deceive Walker's wife and child and that's creepy

-he has the Super Soldier Serum

-calls Bucky “Bucky”

-even Zemo wouldn't ignore Walker's crying child like that, comeon man

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2 / 10

Yelena Belova

+surprisingly not completely unthinkable???

+like maybe as a gag it could play?

+i think it’s because they both have that tiny stabby assassin energy

-obviously it would be super weird, confusing, and narratively unsatisfying for both characters

-Yelena and Florence deserve their spotlight and i wouldn't want anything to detract from that

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3 / 10

Alexei Shostakov

+only slightly above Yelena in believability simply for him being more expendable narratively (so the character not actually being himself in the movie wouldn’t be as much of a let down)

-he’s not particularly similar to Zemo in any way

-like Walker, he has the Super Soldier Serum, so it’s unlikely Zemo would disguise himself as Alexi by choice

-it seems exhausting just being Alexi for any length of time, even for Alexi

+bonus: in the trailer, Alexi b-lines for the bar the instant they exit the elevator in the former Avenger's tower. total Zemo behavior

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4 / 10

Taskmaster

+same height

+non-powered (if you don’t include mimicry but i think Zemo could fake it for a short amount of time)

+wears a mask and doesn’t talk much, making for easy impersonation

+scarred face is similar to Zemo’s scarred face in the comics

-their builds don't match up to a passing glance and unlike Yelena, with her more baggy clothes, Antonia is wearing a fitted outfit, making it more difficult to pass (i don't need it perfect mind you, just enough to suspend believability juuust a little)

-mostly it's just the vibes tbh

-idk man im not feeling this theory anymore and i used to be a Zemo in the Taskmaster suit truther

-maybe it's the suit redesign 🤷‍♂️

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5 / 10

Bob/Sentry/The Void

now we’re getting to the ones where i start to vibe with, but also would need a whole lot of exposition

basically, if you wanted to give a guy like Zemo brain scramblies, make him forget who he is, do some experiments (possibly à la Hydra on Wanda/Pietro? finally pulling on that dropped thread of Sokovians having a higher rate of manifesting powers -specifically Wanda’s reality warping powers- when exposed to the Mind Stone than the average human?) and try to corrupt him into an American branded superhero with a mild-mannered personality, you usually give him a three letter name. like Bob. or Jim.

turning to a comic that i can't believe more people dont talk about in relation to Zemo and the Thunderbolts: Welcome to Pleasant Hill

there's a lot in this comic that gives precedent to the twist of Zemo (and the audience) believing they're just a common, good-natured, all-American before finding out it's a lie in an elaborate supermax prison system. (this will definitely come up in almost all other thoughts and theories i have, including the character on this list that i'm most interested in. i'm kind of obsessed with this comic tbh) the story even involves Bucky, the Thunderbolts, the Cosmic Cube (which is the Space Stone in the MCU - related to the Mind Stone) and reality warping/memory altering similar to the Sentry’s own comic twist. and yes, it’s basically the plot of WandaVision before WandaVision except that the warden wasn't a grief stricken Wanda but a surprisingly Valentina Allegra de Fontaine-ish Maria Hill (put a pin in that similarity). there's also the fact that the MCU loves to merge characters into one, like the upcoming Doom-Stark combo.

so how does this work? hell if i know. Zemo could be forced to change his appearance with that Black Widow spy mask thing? maybe the only ones who see Bob as Bob are the ones who don't really know him + Walker who's easily deceived?? idk. it's a pretty big stretch (but not as big the next one on this list!) the most probable scenario of this one happening is Zemo somehow being tied to Bob’s alter, The Void. again, not probable at all unless the movie does some trippy stuff, but it’s fun to imagine the possibilities.

+the trailer seems to suggest said trippy identity/mind stuff, which you would need to pull this off

+Loki’s staff that once housed the Mind Stone in Sokovia could be a reference to Kobik/the Cosmic Cube that creates Pleasant Hill in the comics

+uhhh Bob and Joe are both three letter names??

+in the Pleasent Hill comics Zemo kind of looks Bob/Sentry like?

-a major thing that holds this theory waaaaaaay back is the fact that Steven Yeun was going to play the part of Sentry first and its highly unlikely they would Plot Twist him into a white man (or god i at least hope not)

-ultimately, there's just not a lot of places this reveal could go imo so /shrug

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8 / 10

Countess Valentina Allegra de Fontaine

look ok hold with me here bc we both know that when those heels started clacking outside the Senate hearing in TFATWS everyone was thinking that it was Zemo rocking them for a whole hot second. I KNOW. I REMEMBER. I WAS THERE.

does this make sense? no, not really. should comedy legend Julia Louis-Dreyfus unmask as Zemo in drag in the third act of a big, multi-million dollar franchise movie made by The Mouse?? absa-fucking-lutly.

i even think it would go over with audiences for the most part. they’d see Zemo, Zemoing about, and go, oh yeah ok that tracks.

+Bucky kind of looks like he’s playing the role of Val’s bodyguard/muscle and his demeanor reminds me so much of TFATWS when he was playing the same role for Zemo

+Bucky knowing this whole time that Val is Zemo and is reluctantly going along with his grift for whatever reason is so funny to me idk why

+Bucky saying “what's the plan” in the trailer just feels better if he is saying it to Zemo

+Bucky is wearing some of his old WS gear and who put him in that last? Zemo

+her line about there being bad guys and worse guys is very on par with Zemo’s pessimistic mentality, maybe justifying an Avengers team up as a necessary evil?

+there should only be one unpowered, tiny, bitchy, manipulative, mastermind serving cunt in a purple jacket in the MCU and Val is crowding Zemo’s throne. solution: Zemo uses Val as his public identity (you know, because of all the war crimes. Val has almost certainly done similar war crimes but they were for the U.S. government so she’s safe to masquerade as) and leads the Thunderbolts with nobody being the wiser

+this also means keeping Julia Louis-Dreyfus around and thats worth like, a hundred '+'s

+the purple. the royal titles. oh, it’s all coming together

+totally think that JLD and Daniel Brühl could pull this off i’m not even joking

+it would delight and entertain me

+Zemo would be leading the Thunderbolts team as he should be

-i fear a shadow of transphobia looming around this idea (with a female character being revealed to be a man in disguise) and that instantly sucks any fun out of it

-Zemo’s ideology would have to do a complete 180 hairpin turn or be a very elaborate plan to sabotage things from the inside, kind of making it difficult to buy into the whole thing in the first place

-its never going to happen

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8/10

Bucky Barnes

ohhhhhhh kkkk

here we go

here’s all that twitter stuff abt how there’s reason to believe that the person shooting at the limo isn’t Bucky at all or that he’s being brainwashed again:

personally, i don’t feel WS here but maybe that's because Seb is doing a little bit of his Judge Dredd scowl and there’s too much going on behind the eyes? it still feels like Bucky still imo, even if his actions are like, a bit extreme. it’s that whole “i had to go to work today” energy that Bucky perpetually puts out lol. basically i didn’t get the vibe that he’s Winter Soldiering, or even that he’s trying to kill the team, i just get the vibe he was tasked with rounding up and escorting the group back to Vale and he’s doing it his usual undelicate way. of course, this is only 3 seconds from a teaser so all those details could be right or wrong in the film, only time will tell.

BUT this reasonable talk is counterproductive to this crackpot theory, so…

The Zemo being brainwashed or otherwise manipulated/reality altered into believing (or pretending to be) he’s Bucky/WS theory:

+if i had a nickel for every time Zemo in the comics was brainwashed/tortured into believing he was Bucky/Bucky adjacent and/or the narrative obfuscating which one was which, i’d have at least two nickels

+and that is purposeful btw, in the comics Zemo and Bucky have a strange thematic connection. it’s not a coincidence that when Steve was still grieving Bucky, here came a guy with ties to his past (specifically the son of the man who ‘killed’ Bucky) that would have been roughly the same age as Bucky if he didn’t ‘die’. Steve then commits to saving Zemo time and again, dispite what a complete fuck-up he is. so, Zemo hating Bucky but also kind of having this deep inner desire to be him at least has thematic presence in the comics

this motherfucker literally keeps a shrine of Captain American memorabilia, including putting Bucky’s old costume in a lit glass display case

-on the other hand, MCU Zemo is almost nothing like his comic counterpart and certainly doesn’t hate Bucky or want to be him

+on the other-other hand, there’s far too many similarities to MCU Zemo and the MCU Winter Soldier to ignore and the text of the movies/show seem to continuously remind us of that in little ways

+so in this theory Zemo wouldn’t be impersonating Bucky Barnes per se, he’d be the Winter Soldier

+who, conveniently, has Sebastian Stan’s face so Daniel Brühl wouldn’t have to be on set as much nor have to do any stunt work. good for him

means, motive, and opportunity:

+Val most definitely has access to the raft (and by extension Zemo) as the head of the CIA

+we also know that Val must have access to some form of the Super Soldier Serum if the Sentry is involved, and the clutter of Sentry related branding in the trailer seems to indicate Val/OXE/the U.S. government has been trying to create their own superhero, Homelander style

+Val also has access to all sort of means of manipulating Zemo's sense of identity. chemical memory alteration, use of off-world artifacts, the old fashioned WS programming way, or even all that Stark tech that was confiscated by Damage Control…remember B.A.R.F.?

+the whole choice to use Zemo could even be out of convenience. he’s already had extensive military training, was a successful black ops commander, he literally has nothing left, not even citizenship to a country

+nobody would look for him or wonder where he is or if he’s even still alive

+even if they did, would they care? to most people, he's a super villian. even people who might object morally, like Sam or the Wakandans seem to be too busy with their own shit rn anyways

+Bucky is literally the only one left who might object and if they're using his identity to carry out clandestine missions then they have leverage. keep quiet and you have a job, prestige, perks, etc. without having to actually do any of the dirty work. don't, and we spin this like you went off WS style and there's nobody to keep you from being locked up anymore. plus Bucky hates Zemo right? why would he care if he's America’s Winter Soldier

+this also allows for a built-in deniability for Val/the government if Bucky!Zemo was ever caught on a mission. that can't be the Winter Soldier doing assassinations in Europe if you can see Bucky Barnes at a Congress meeting on public tv at the same exact moment

+as to motivation, other than all the reasons stated above, it's clear that Val doesn't want a Captain America. she said as much to Walker in TFATWS. while it might work to her advantage to have a controlled Avengers team for her public image, it helps her far more to have someone reliable to do her dirty work

+creating a black ops assassin à la the Winter Soldier, but for America, would be her goal

+and sure, she had Walker and Yelena under her payroll already (and we assume Ghost and Taskmaster as well) but they don’t have that living action figure, perfect soldier rizz. in various ways im going to assume they've disappointed her, questioned orders, or just generally was too human

+so why Bucky's identity? easy. he's already got a whole brand. i can hear the sardonic lines out of JLD mouth about how hard it is to create something new when you can just reboot it. Bucky has a legend as the Winter Soldier, one that still carries a lot of clout. she wouldn't even need to deploy him for assassin reasons, just use him for negotiations and fear tactics. the Winter Soldier is already a verified threat at an international level, you can't buy that kind of marketing. using Bucky's face and WS identity would be essential to her

+wouldn’t just brainwashing the real Bucky again be easier? well, other than the advantage of having Bucky and the WS be separated people as mentioned above…the last two times Bucky Barnes was brainwashed to be the Winter Soldier and otherwise held against his will, an empire fell (S.H.I.E.L.D./Hydra and The Avengers). so, while i’m sure Val has a fondness of the Rule of Three as much as i do, i also think she’s smarter than that

+i’m sure she’s even approached Bucky directly and has probably tried to manipulate him with a job that looks legit on the outside and gets him a nice private house. but Bucky isn’t going back to the WS role, it’s not going to happen. and he’s already side-eyeing Val pretty hard in that trailer so her perfect soldier he won't be

so Val has means, opportunity, and motivation to take Zemo and turn him into her very own super assassin. but lets take this a step further.

this post by magnitothemagnificent brings up a great theory that Bucky here could actually be Jack Monroe, more importantly brings up one of Jack's alter egos, Scourge.

this same guy from the comic page above

(for my theory, obviously, instead of Jack, it would be Zemo as a Scourge-like character)

+we know that there is a version of the serum going around to create the Sentry, and that the Sentry's #1 personality trait in the comics is his mental instability

+we know that, in the comics, Jack Monroe was driven mad specifically by the Super Serum he was given. it messed with his sense of reality and identity in big ways including making him believe he actually was Bucky, instead of just taking up his mantle

+possibly, this version of the serum is responsible for the mental instability of everyone who takes it, creating delusions and hallucinations and this is what affects the Sentry’s mental stability and warps this hypothetical Bucky!Zemo/Scourge's sense of reality

+this could even tie into Walker's story, as it seemed like he escalated in his instability after taking the serum (you know, there's actually a fairly large connection between Walker/US Agent and Monroe too hmm…)

in the comics, Monroe is being controlled (through nanites, so idk maybe Stark Tech?) by a very Zemo-type motivated guy who hates supers and even works for the Commission on Superhuman Activities (basically the same people who created the Sokovia Accords in the MCU, led by Ross and the UN). being controlled by this man, Monroe, as Scourge, is forced to attack and kill super powered people and targets the Thunderbolts. Comic Zemo is literally beheaded by him in a page that definitely tries to make the reader think that it is Bucky Barnes attacking Zemo (this was before the Winter Soldier Brubaker run that brought back Bucky Barnes, so at the time Bucky was still thought to be very dead for over 50 years)

and the Scourge suit would explain other parts of this theory, such as why is that literally Sebastian Stan’s face?

+the suit comes with a camouflage feature and image inducer so looking just like Bucky wouldn't be a problem (in the comics, previous versions of Scourge, one who i actually believe was Jake Monroe, just used latex masks, even disguising himself as a woman more than once -go Val=Zemo theory!- but the most important detail is that Scourge has always been a master of disguise, so that element is already built into the lore of the character)

how would Zemo be able to mimic the Super Soldier Serum?

+if he's not being dosed by Val with a version of the serum, the suit has various means of mimicking increased strength

but unless they really committed to amputating an arm and have a Wakandan prosthetic laying around, how would Zemo have the metal arm?

+from what i can tell, we don’t actually see Bucky’s metal arm in this scene? i believe it’s covered up with a jacket. and even if some of it shows, that could be a CGI misdirect. otherwise the Scourge suit would answer this too, specifically the metal-looking high-tech gauntlets that he wears could be made to at least look like Bucky’s arm and do the same things Bucky’s arm can do

but what about real Bucky?

+we have to first buy into the two Bucky’s theory, which i don’t actually hate. there’s Bucky trying his best in the trailer and then there’s an impersonator out there doing his best Winter Soldier. this way we don’t run into the same problems of a third act reveal like with the others (not actually following the real Bucky Barnes). we would be, hopefully with a confrontation between the two in the climax, getting almost an out of body visual of Bucky’s inner turmoil. him vs the winter soldier identity and everything that represents to him

even having Bucky wearing the Winter Soldier gear would have a cool call back to the Scourge suit:

+the suit in the comics has two gauntlets that can access various tools and weapons by simply voicing a code. they appear as if from thin air but in reality it is a clever use of pym particles

+these weapons aren't even just regular ‘ol things but rather he has a whole arsenal taken from other heroes and villains

+so a suit that carries the whole Winter Soldier arsenal, despite us having every reason to believe Bucky wouldn't have those things anymore, could be a fun way to reference that

speaking of the WS arsenal:

+I know its just a coincidence, but its worth noting that, as others have pointed out, Bucky is predominantly carrying the Škorpion vz. 61 (also known as the Sa vz. 61 Skorpion) in the trailer and in the poster. which was the gun that used to attach to the harness on the WS suit

+Zemo's paramilitary team from Sokovia, EKO Skorpion, was, at least partially, named after the Serbian Skorpion paramilitary force. the real life Serbian Skorpions named themselves after their favorite gun, you guessed it: the same Škorpion vz. 61 that is used by the WS

+additional fun(?) fact: the real life Serbian Skorpions had a secret relationship to the CIA and the CIA might have had a hand in the Yugoslav wars (shocker). if we follow this trajectory, it's possible that Val could have had connections to Sokovia and Zemo as early as the 90s/early 2000s, working as a CIA agent involved with the Sokovian Civil War

+if Hydra was involved with instigating the civil war in Sokovia (as they almost certainly were as it gained them a great advantage in establishing their base there) and Val truly is Madame Hydra, then that would establish pretty strong connective tissue between Val, Sokovia, Zemo, and the WS/Bucky

taking us to Pleasant Hill again:

i love this panel in relation to the Thunderbolts bc this is everything that Yelena is struggling with and seems to be the central theme of the movie, these broken people finding purpose in a world that they’ve been alienated by

+now the major twist in the comic wasn’t just that Zemo is really mild-mannered Jim, but rather the readers were manipulated through various means into believing that Jim was actually Bucky until the end reveal

+combining these things (the Pleasant Hill comic run and the Jack Monroe/ Scourge comic run) creates a story where the audience is led to believe Bucky is Winter Soldiering about, attacking and possibly trying to kill the Thunderbolts team

+but in reality it is actually Zemo, being manipulated and controlled by Val thru various sci-fi means to make Zemo just appear as Bucky

some other things:

+the last person to imitate the WS specifically? Zemo

+and he literally did it with just some prosthetics and theater kid energy

+their height difference is concealable with some heels and Zemo would know how to run in them

+this might even explain Bucky's bad hair:

+like ok hold with me here but Daniel Bruhl had this same exact hair cut for his role as Karl Lagerfeld

did he keep the hair during Thunderbolts filming? i have no idea. but its fun to imagine

and finally,

+the popular Bucky/WS left hand theory. while i’m not necessarily convinced just by this trailer (even tho i really like the theory and the visual importance of Bucky using his metal/left arm), this would gain added legitimacy if it’s actually Zemo impersonating the WS

+because, while Bucky may not be left handed,

+Zemo is

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10 / 10

this gerbil

+100% Zemo, he’s not even in disguise here that’s just Daniel Brühl on set

[holdmymallowsweet]

Underneath

For Gaunting Salloween day 21: Masquerade.

Words: 1,851, also on AO3

Warnings: some dubcon touching, mild creepy vibes, other than that they’re just horny and stupid here.

“What do you think?”

“I hope this is a joke.”

Sebastian snorted. “Obviously.” He put his mask back on the bedside table with a dull thud.

“I’m not even sure what the point of all of this is,” Ominis sighed. “The masks, I mean.”

“It’s just a bit of fun. You know, not knowing who it is under there. Could be exciting, don’t you think?” Sebastian got up from Ominis’ bed, crossed the room.

“It’s not as if it would make any difference to me.” Ominis listened to Sebastian going through his dresser, curious what he was looking for, but not enough to ask. “And would you honestly not recognise someone, just because their face is hidden? Wouldn’t you know it’s me, regardless of how I looked?”

The noise stopped.”Why, would you be upset?” 

Ominis let himself fall back onto his bed, considered the question. “Perhaps. I mean, I would always know it’s you.” 

Sebastian came closer again, so he’d either found what he’d been looking for or given up. “What if you wouldn’t?”

Ominis smiled. “Impossible.”

“But what if you wouldn’t? What if I managed to make you not recognise me? At the party.” 

The mattress dipped, closer than before, too close for comfort, but not enough to be satisfying. 

“...wouldn’t that make it more exciting for you? Give you a taste of what you’re missing out on.”

Sebastian made it sound almost like a promise. Said it low and sultry, leaning over Ominis, made his head spin- so he got up, created some distance before he did something that would either take him to heaven or mark the end of their friendship. “...I didn’t even get a mask-”

“No worries.”

Ominis had it pushed into his chest- at least now he knew what Sebastian had been looking for.

“You got one for me?”

“Of course I did. Were you expecting me to attend without you?”

“What is it?” Ominis asked suspiciously.

“Figure it out yourself.”

Ominis started tracing it. Lace. Eyeholes- well, it wasn’t custom made, most would need them. Ears. “A rabbit? Really?”

“It suits you.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow.

“What? It does.”

“What’s yours, then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Sebastian got up again, casually letting his fingers ghost over Ominis’ shoulder as he walked past, sliding them up and over his neck, making the little hairs stand up.

They’d been dancing around each other like this for months. It had started as small gestures of comfort- holding hands at Anne’s funeral, stroking each other's backs when they were frustrated or stressed over homework. Then came the accidental brushes of hands against bare skin, regardless of how much space there would have been to avoid them.

Eventually, it became clear that the touches were self indulgent, to still a need and fuel a desire, only neither of them wanted to be the first to bring it up. At least that’s what Ominis hoped it was. If it turned out that it was only in his head, if Sebastian’s friendly or accidental touches really were just that, he was sure he’d die.

Throwing a masquerade party on Halloween had been Professor Ronan’s idea, of course. Ominis doubted very much that Black would have even allowed them this “frivolity”, as he’d called it, if he hadn’t conveniently found some important engagement to keep him busy that night.

In spite of himself, Ominis had been looking forward to the evening. It would be his last Halloween at Hogwarts, the House Elves always outdid themselves on special occasions, so there’d be good food, and he’d have Sebastian by his side. In a noisy crowd, so there’d be plenty of excuses for them to stay close and bump into each other. 

What he hadn’t expected was to walk into an empty dormitory after his bath, for Sebastian to leave him behind with nothing but a note, leaning against Ominis’ mask.

Come find me, if you can.

Ominis sighed. He’d almost forgotten about Sebastian's silly idea from the other day, but what could it hurt to play along? It would be the easiest thing in the world.

The festivities in the Great Hall were already in full swing when Ominis arrived. A concoction of laughter and giggles and the jaunty tunes of the string quartet, and just as he’d suspected, hardly anyone seemed to have issues finding their friends or figuring out who they were talking to.

He hadn’t heard Sebastian yet, but there was no rush. He had all evening.

The first touch almost could have been an accident. Getting in the way of a blind boy’s arm while reaching for the refreshments.

“My apologies,” Ominis mumbled, taking his hand back, but the touch followed. 

The confusion only lasted a moment, before the realisation hit him. “Fine, you had me there, satisfied? I’ll admit, for a second, I didn’t know it was you. Can we enjoy the evening now? Together?”

No answer, just the lingering touch on his arm.

“Sebastian?”

No answer, again, and now Ominis was fed up. He’d played Sebastian’s stupid game, but he wasn’t going to stick around to win the stupid prize.

“Very well, then,” Ominis sighed, jerked his arm out of the strang- Sebastian’s grip,and turned around to leave. But he was followed, and as soon as he’d made it out of the crowd, he was dragged behind the pillar and pressed up against the wall.

“S-Sebastian?” No, it wasn’t supposed to come out as a question, it had to be. 

Ominis took a deep breath- and felt a wave of panic wash over him. Out of the thick of the party, it was suddenly very obvious that the stranger did not smell like Sebastian.

No, he had to calm down. 

Sebastian knew Ominis relied on smell to identify people when they were silent. He could have easily bought- or more likely, borrowed someone’s soap, someone else’s aftershave, and clothes at Hogwarts were all washed and smelled the same, until worn.

The hands that kept him up against the wall started to wander. Stroking up and down his arms at first, almost soothingly, before they moved over to his chest. There they laid, warm and firm, one of them over his pounding heart.

“Do you really think I won’t know, as long as you keep quiet?” The problem was, he really didn’t. And he knew he was about to be punished for his hubris. 

He was fairly certain it was Sebastian, but tiny echoes of “but what if it’s not” kept repeating endlessly in the back of his mind.

Who else would feel him up? But if someone wanted to, even just out of morbid curiosity, or to mess with the blind Gaunt, this would be the time to do it. Unrecognisable, not only to Ominis, but also everyone else. Free of consequence.

What if Sebastian came around the corner, looking for Ominis only to find him getting fondled by a stranger? That would be rather hard to explain, not to mention embarrassing, and likely leave some hurt feelings in its wake. 

No, this was Sebastian, it had to be, it was, he was sure of it.

It was Sebastian.

Sebastian, feeling him up, hands sprawled over his chest, thumbs drawing tiny circles as if contemplating where to go next.

Sebastian, shamelessly exploiting the situation to satisfy his urges. How far would he go, just barely out of sight in a corner of the Great Hall, if Ominis didn’t stop him?

Following that thought made him light-headed, caused his blood to flow in the opposite direction of his brain, where he needed it.

The hands finally decided to wander up, towards his neck, and Ominis wasn’t sure if he should be disappointed or thankful.

This little game would be over as soon as Sebastian touched his bare skin. Ominis knew the calluses on his fingertips, the little scar on his right thumb from when he’d gotten too careless around the Venomous Tentacula in their second year, and been too stubborn to go to the Hospital Wing to get it healed with magic.

Any moment now-

Gloves.

Ominis’ breath came out shaky, heavy, frustrated. Of course Sebastian would wear gloves, he knew Ominis would never not recognise the feeling of his fingertips. 

Then again, gloves were a fairly standard addition to any formal attire. He’d only foregone wearing any because they messed with his sense of touch.

The gloved fingers crept higher, tips slipping in the space between Ominis’ chin and his mask, and he froze. What they were doing was hardly proper, but surely there was some sort of unspoken etiquette not to go under someone’s disguise at a masquerade?

Not that Sebastian ever cared much about etiquette.

Suddenly, the distance between them was gone, their bodies pressed together in the middle, and any pretence of not secretly enjoying the encounter went out the window, as Ominis moaned. The wayward fingers on his lips seemed to praise him for it, seemed to consider dipping into his mouth.

Ominis’ mind worked fast.

He likely wouldn’t have a chance to get rid of the gloves, but they were thin. And he only needed Sebastian to make a noise.

So he bit.

Hard enough to draw blood.

A muffled sound of pain, hands ripped away and then nothingness where a warm body had been.

Ominis was left alone, the taste of blood in his mouth, breathing heavily, finally completely and entirely sure that it had been Sebastian. No one else could have made him mourn the sudden loss enough to make his heart ache the way it did.

And since it was Sebastian, Ominis knew where he’d find him.

Ominis ran all the way from the Great Hall, threw off his mask somewhere on the Grand Staircase. Stopped in front of their dormitory, trembling, out of breath. He held it so it wouldn’t mess with his hearing.

Then he threw the door open.

“Ominis, what-”

His held breath came out as a laugh. Oh, Sebastian could be very sneaky- at least he liked to think so- but there was no way Ominis would ever mistake the tell-tale noise of a pair of trousers being pulled up for anything else.

“Merlin, could you knock?”

“...I live here. Why, did I catch you in the middle of something?” he said archly, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by him still trying to catch his breath.

“Why aren’t you at the party?”

“Why aren’t you?” 

Neither of them needed an answer. And Sebastian didn’t protest when Ominis took his hand, not even when he ran his thumb over the bitemark he’d left behind.

Ominis’ face split into a mad grin. “I knew it was you.”

“Did you. You were awfully flustered though, out there.” Sebastian swallowed thickly, as his fingers somehow ended up at Ominis’ lips again. “And you didn’t have to take a bite out of me to mark me. That’s hardly fair. And it’ll sting for days.”

Ominis scoffed. “Oh, please.” Ran his tongue over the bite. “We both know you could have healed that if you’d wanted to.”

[riahlynn101]

What are your thoughts over the movie? I have some myself (and a mild mental breakdown over the Thing™), but overall, it was good. I want to talk about it with anyone, lol

Okay, so....

Spoilers below the cut:

Firstly, I loved it. You can tell how much effort they put into this movie, and it really shows. Kudos to everyone involved.

Things I liked:

Piper Rubio did amazing. No comment beyond that. Abby is one of my favorite characters now, and if anything happens to her, I'll cry.

Actually, all the kids did a wonderful job. Especially Grant Feely. He really embodied that creepy, restless spirit vibe.

Mike and Abby's sibling relationship was everything to me!

Vanessa asking Mike if he wants to dance with her (OMG).

The Springbonnie suit looked great!

Mike having a little bit of an attitude (I love him so much)!

The animatronics were cool. I like that they took the time to make them seem friendly, and almost childlike, before switching gears.

Things I didn't like:

I'm not an expert on filmmaking, so excuse me if I'm wrong here. But the pacing was all over the place. The first act of the movie was perfect, and then the second act was....fast. Like fast-fast. Based on what other people are saying, I'm 99.9% sure they cut out a lot of footage.

This one might come back to bite me in the ass later, but some plotlines felt unnecessary. I know this is FNAF and complicated is written somewhere between Freddy and Fazbear, but did we really need some side plot about an evil aunt? They didn't go anywhere with it, and we still don't know what happened to her. Did Golden Freddy K.O her? Kill her? Who knows? Because we certainly don't. We see her legs, and then she's never mentioned again.

I don't know if this is controversial, but I hate that Vanessa's an Afton. Maybe it's because I was so set on Mike being an Afton, but I really, really hate that they changed it. (I'll elaborate on that more down below).

I felt like they could have given us some more background. Some more flashbacks to the 80s. Anything.

I know I'm being overdramatic, but having the plot twist be Vanessa's an Afton kind of killed all my excitement. Which is stupid, I know, but yeah....

I mean, I'm still going to write fanfictions about the movie, and about all the ways that Mike Schmidt is actually Michael Afton.

--Sorry in advance, but I'm going to ramble--

I have a feeling that William knows Mike better than he's letting on. Of course, he did kidnap Garrett, who could have told William everything about Mike. He could have also watched the news and seen Mike with his parents, asking for Garrett to come home.

But that's not the vibe i was getting from William during the office scene. But I'll let you all decide for yourselves:

William Afton is a skilled manipulator and actor, but the expression he makes looking down at his coffee doesn't scream, "holy shit, the brother of my victim is sitting in my office." He has no reason to look concerned. Mike has no idea who he is, and he isn't even looking at William. So, why put on a show?

Also, the change in his attitude is telling. He went from cold and distant to personable in a heartbeat.

Of course, there's always the possibility that I'm totally wrong, and William is scared he's been found out. Which could be true, given that he doesn't hesitate to fuck Mike up the second he's able to.

--

In the same vein, why would William Afton-a guy known for killing/kidnapping kids around the pizzeria, or at least close to the pizzeria-drive to the middle of nowhere, pick a random kid, and kill him? I know he's crazy, but I don't buy it.

Some people are saying that Garrett is a Charlie parallel, and that Mike is Henry's son. Which could be the case, I mean, we see a mechanic in the training video that bears a striking resemblance to the actor that plays Mike's dad. I don't know if those two things are connected, but it's interesting to point out.

But, like I said, it's weird that William went out of his way to kidnap a kid for no reason. And he likely wasn't in a costume (at least I hope he wasn't, because if he was and no one saw who took Garrett, I think a kidnapped child is the least of their worries.) So, how did he convince Garrett, who was by himself for a grand total of five second, to get in the car? Maybe he offered him candy or toys? I dunno.

I might go into all the evidence/theories so far that Mike's an Afton in another post. And where they're going with Garrett's character. But yeah....

Everyone, please, feel free to share your thoughts on the movie. I would love to hear them :D!!

((Thank you for this question btw <3333))

[applepies-and-starlight]

...so I completely forgot that (2) (more) people were interested in Siltcurrent. (Akuma!Ishmael)

Anyway I'm gonna be posting the text under cut because. It's A Lot. And there's a 10 image limit so I can't just screenshot my ramblings

Some Context for LCB moots/readers who have not seen MLB: Akumas are butterflies made by the show's villain (Hawkmoth) who target people experiencing negative emotions, usually said emotions influence how their villain self acts and what their powers are

Extra context for anyone confused: basically a while back I made an AU where Ishmael is the Ladybug (Scarlet Ardor) and Don is the Black Cat (Chatvalier). The aim of the game is bringing glory to yuriville here Also note that they're both in university in a modern AU where we aren't in the shitfest called the City for obvious reasons

Mid edit apple: now should probably be a good time to mention the entire context of the scenario here is that Ishy tries to confess to Don, gets rejected (as Ishmael) and accepted (as Ardor) at the same time. So in attempt to logic away her hurt she tries to figure out why Don likes Ardor better (Ishmael knows Don is Chatvalier (accidental); Don does not know Ishy is Ardor) but in doing so she attracts an Akuma and turns into Siltcurrent thanks faust

Mid edit apple 2: i'd like to clarify that 90% of these writings were written at 3am while i was delirious on sleep deprivation with all of my impulse controls dead on the floor

(Writings will be indented; ramblings will be in bullet points)

So! Siltcurrent! Ishmael Akuma!!

Akumatized late at night (roughly 11pm maybe) but it isn't noticable for the first few days

Illusion subset of powers; Siltcurrent conjures up a form of Ardor to try to keep up some form of normalcy

Omori vibes; as in, everything seems normal but there is something Wrong

Physiology:

Half-blind; Siltcurrent can only identify colors and vague shapes

Exception is Chatvalier/Don, she knows Exactly what to look for and it's Very Hard to trick her

Because Dream Devouring Siltcurrent reference, flouresents!

Bandages. Everywhere. Especially in the heart area

The bandage covering her chest is trying to hide a wound that looks like a lance ran through it

Constantly crying, like deadass her tears are flooding the place

Basically she looks like that fucked up Blind Obsession mer KoishiJSM drew

Oh, yeah, have I mentioned this fucker can break into your dreams?

It gently held her hands, adoration and malice waging war in its one visible eye, both combining into a new emotion that could only be possibly described as obsession.

"I love you," it said, gently kissing above her eye "I love hate love hate love hate..."

Its near-fanatical murmurs eventually petered out into a low whine, resting its head in the crook of her neck.

"You ruin me. Ruin me so much... I hate it I hate it, love you hate you love it love it please keep going please please please..."

(^^ this is a dream sequence; coincides with the last point i made)

(Siltcurrent keeps visiting don's dreams because her horrible compulsion keeps making her do it, otherwise she'd go even more insane for not acting on said compulsions)

Akuma has killed her impulse control so her intrusive thoughts are running rampant

She has at least enough self control to not go... Too Far, at least

(This lack of impulse control from "Ishmael" and "Ardor" is one of the things that tip off Don that something's wrong because honestly she's pretty smart despite what others say)

Very Avoidant of Don (as "Ishmael")

Like. Yk how ayano's like in yansim? Yeah basically

Mild yandere(?) mode now that i think of it

Like. She sees that Don's given someone else more attention than usual too and immediately tracks them down before pestering them about her (mainly like. Asking why she's been around them more, if they learned anything about her during their interactions, etc etc; comes off as overbearing and creepy)

It causes people to steer clear of don because nobody wants to deal with "ishmael"

This one needs screenshots i can't do it justice otherwise

Queequeg's..... Somewhere.

I don't know what exactly happens I just know the end result is that Ahab did A Thing and now our sailor has Trauma. Yk, usual limbus shit

Whatever the fuck happened broke Queequeg and her apart

Idk what it is exactly (could be death or other circumstance, probably the latter because.. cool leg) but whatever it is caused her to not quite. Open Up™ as a defense response

"I've been burned once, I don't want to be burned again"

"Don't go... don't go..."

Torrents of water began to fall from the sky, as if a god had punctured a hole in the clouds. Flooding the place and dragging her under.

"Please don't go..."

The thing pressed its body against her, eye searching for any reaction she had

"Empty... so empty... why do I keep breaking?"

"Why am I always hurt?"

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Don woke up again, managing to stifle a shout before she ended up waking the entire household.

(She swore she heard a choked sob off in the distance)

(^^ This one's a little rougher, but also another dream sequence)

(Side note: this one and the previous one were in italics because i used italics to distinguish my writing from my rambling in those entries and i'm too lazy to deitalicize them)

Ardor tentatively stepped towards Chatvalier, smile too stiff to be sincere; too wide to be human, her blue eyes desperately searching for something as she lifted a hand, only to awkwardly let it flop beside her.

(Her eyes were supposed to be green; a near-golden shade of olive that reminded Chatvalier of the first leaves heralding fall.)

"Hey, Chatvalier." Ardor spoke, her voice barely above a whisper yet still carrying through the space between them. "I..."

"Release Lady Ardor at once."

"Ardor's" smile faltered, her hands trembling with some deep-seated emotion.

"Chat, please." Its voice cracked as it took more steps towards the cat, "It's me, It's really-"

"Silence, wretch." Chatvalier spat, lowering her stance and pointing her staff at it. "Thou shall not decieve me; release her at once."

Its smile vanished completely, a tear sliding down its cheek.

Then, with a booming roar, a mighty wave crashed down on the fake.

(^^ beginning of what I like to call "Act 2", basically Don figures out Ishy's gotten Akumatized and something's Wrong with Ardor but instead draws the conclusion that Ishy kidnapped Ardor she mentioned she loved Ardor)

(Don't ask how I know my middle english I don't remember either (and if its janked anywhere please tell me))

Fun fact i originally used cur instead

But then i remembered the word wretch existed and went "yeah that's more in line with an absolutely pissed off Don"

"What do you want from me?!" The Akuma wailed, its head whipping around as it tried to find the flash of gold it so dearly adored, "Why are you doing this to me?!"

It screamed as it felt something stab into its tail, twisting around and throwing Chatvalier off of it, trying to shake off the pain from its mutilates tail

"Have I not told you, cur?" She shouted back, flourescent blood staining her boots as righteous fury burned in her eyes.

"Thou hath harmed mine lady, and it is mine duty to deliver retribution onto thee!"

(^^ I can't fucking figure out how I want the last line to go)

(The tail stabbing is a minor nowhere is north reference lmao; one of my drafts for siltcurrent's appearance is that she has twisted legs for a tail ala Mili's bathtub mermaid art)

Chatvalier watched in both horror and morbid fascination as the akuma writhed on the ground, screaming in frustrated agony as it clawed against its bandages, the fight all but forgotten.

"I DON'T HAVE ARDOR! I CAN'T GIVE HER BACK TO YOU!" It screamed at Chatvalier, tears overflowing as its voice went hoarse, "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO?! WHAT DO I DO?! TELL ME!"

Before she could even formulate a response, or even a short quip, it dug its claws into itself, a guttural roar ripping out of its throat before a sickening thump landed on the rooftop.

A still beating heart rested at Chatvalier's feet.

(^^ something possessed me to write this and it just. Ended up becoming an important thing in my outline)

(Discord between me and @/scriptum-pandemonium (tell me if i you want these off tbe post pls))

Speaking of here's more stuff (spoilered because body horror (vague) which i added because. C'mon, this is a limbus au, i should be able to ramp up the violence to blood and (some) gore levels)

Hell yeah up the gore and horror

HOLY FUCKING SHIT THE HEART

:>

■■■

Delulu this akuma just has multiple hearts, octopus time

Honestly my original idea is that like, through magic bullshit she's still perfectly ok (still in pain because. Literally ripping your heart out. But. Y'know.)

If I may build on the banger lines you put down, maybe when it's over donqui pulls Ishmael in for a long hug just so she can hear the beating of Ishmael's heart in her own chest

:0

(Shoutout to Blue and the gang at Halcandra btw this was largely inspired by Magiajam)

Shaky, labored pants filled the silence between them. The villain's hair - Ishmael's hair, shadowed its face.

Only its eye was visible; the eye looking at her with so much manic hate, sadness, obsession...

Love.

The heart continued to faintly beat.

"Take it." She gasped, a bloodied claw gingerly covering the gaping, bleeding hole in her chest, "just take it and leave."

Chatvalier couldn't. How could she, anyhow? Anyone who saw such a grosteque sight would be paralyzed in shock, too.

A small sniffle snapped her out of her spiral, looking up to find the akuma desperately trying to wipe its tears away.

"Please..." it hiccuped, desperately trying to steady its breathing.

Then, a whisper.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry-"

It started wailing again, babbling a thousand apologies at once as it began to crawl back to the waves.

"I'msorryIcan'tbeherI'msorryIdon'tknowwhyyouloveherI'msorryIcan'terasetheuglymeandbebeautifulforyouI'msorryyouhavetoseemeuglyI'msorryI'mnotperfectforyou-"

Somewhere through the storm of sorrow, Chatvalier found that her feet had tried to bring her to the villain; to Ishmael.

But when she raised a hand to try and stop her, she was already gone.

All that was left was a patch of flourescent, bloodied water, and a single glass shard.

(^^ arguably one of my favorites; I am in so much pain!)

[...] sorry for being not ardor, for being ugly, for not being perfect [...]

It's been a few days since her confession. Ishmael has gotten over the rejection. Definitely. Yeah. It wasn't like... it wasn't like it was the end of the world or anything. She and Don were still friends. (Right?) (Right...) (....hopefully.) No, the self reflection notes weren't about Don. She was just... curious about herself. Yeah, that's it. Nothing to do with how she told her that she reserved her heart for Ardor. (She didn't even question it; she knew Don was Chatvalier, her annoying, endearing, ever loyal partner, who'd gladly throw herself into harm's way if it meant she'd be safe.) Nope. This was only because she saw a curious ad on the internet. A few days ago. (What did she do differently as Ardor?) She checked her notes again; a list of traits she'd describe herself as, another one for the her with the mask. (She impulsively checked her phone for the time.) (A small part of her scolded her for getting distracted so quickly.) What made her and Ardor different? What did she lack outside of the mask. She was just curious; absolutely nothing to do with the proverbial daggers in her heart. Nothing to do with impressing the girl who stole her heart. It's fine. She's fine. She isn't hung over it. It doesn't hurt. Does not hurt at all. Not in the slightest. In fact, she's over the rejection. She's perfectly fine! Just great. Peachy, even. Everything will go back to what it was tomorrow. She shouldn't be fretting over this, the weekends should be enjoyed right? So yes, she's fine. Nothing to worry about. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't... ... "Good evening, Siltcurrent."

(^^ this one's big, I just kinda gave up on editing this to fit tumblr format here)

(Anyway this is me trying to portray OCD and may or may not be me somewhat venting/projecting)

[...] Ishmael desperately trying to logic it together because she's fine it's not even a total rejection, Don Quixote just loved her hero self and not her ordinary self

[...] donqui is a bit self conscious because here she is, rejecting one of her best friends because of a what must seem like a celebrity crush that could never happen

[....] personally I like to think after the Realization™ (figuring out chalier was donqui) Ish started seeing her in a different light [...]

■■■

[...] theres something sad in Ishmael being the only one that realizes the truth, because Ishmael's been the one to see the entirety of Donqui as both a civ and chatvalier, yet Donqui can't because she thinks of ish as two separate people

Part of her is confused as to why Donqui sees it as that (she and Ardor are technically the same person right? They can't be *that* different)

The rest is just. Hurt. And is trying to grasp on straws to logic it away

■■■

Donqui loves ARDOR, which means she could've loved you but she didn't. Because you didn't win her over. Because YOU did something as Ardor so that Ishmael could never compete

Because it is "what does he have that I don't, what can he promise you that I won't" but to yourself

"Ishmael" is borderline manic 90% of the time (like, has the vibes that 1 wrong move will suddenly make her start laughing like a madman before she decks you)

She sometimes gets mental breakdowms over not being able to complete her goal (obtain the miraculous; [Acherontia] assures her that that isn't important right now

Doesn't really help much it just stops her immediate crying and makes her internalize the guilt more

This + her core motivation + everyone now looking at her weirdly compounds into siltcurrent just. Fucking flooding the entire place with her tears (this is when act 2 starts)

Ishmael hovered awkwardly at the edge of the door, practically hiding behind it with the way she positioned herself. "...uh, hey-" She barely started talking before Don was crashed into her, wrapping her arms around Ishmael's waist as she buried her head into her chest. (She could hear the gentle heartbeat under Ishmael's clothes; soft, but steady.) (Strong.) She felt Ishmael flinch at the sudden gesture, but she couldn't find herself to care. "I- woah, now." Ishmael stammered, awkwardly patting Don's head in a subtle attempt to pry her off, "Was... was I really that bad? I know Akumas don't last longer than a day, but..." She trailed off, her ears finally picking up on shallow, stifled gasps as she felt something wet on her shirt. She instinctively wrapped an arm around her, rubbing gentle circles on her back as Don tried to hold back her tears. "Hey, it's okay... I'm okay now." She mumbled, still somewhat awkward from the chain of events, "whatever happened to me is over now, yeah? I'm better now." (She didn't know that Don knew who she was, unaware that a blinded mermaid had begged her to know why it wasn't loved without a mask.) (She didn't know that Chatvalier stood on the roof of a building, holding a bloody, heartless body. Desperately trying to ignore the gaping wound in favor of pretending her Lady was simply asleep.) (If she convinced herself that the blood wasn't real, then perhaps...)

(^^ epilouge scene, basically)

(There are Consequences to gouging out your heart)

Me, at 3am, high on sleep deprivation: i know this is a kid's show, but you know? We've never seen an akumatized villain that was terribly injured detransform before the Cure kicked in

Lady Sonata ex machina I can't have yuri if one of them is dead

The peacock can literally make life from a will and a way ans G is more than competent enough to make ladybug and cat senti-copies to emergency stand in incase one gets incapacitated (also i want a pun on Ardor (Ardoll... heh))

[elieasal]

Good Night World is probably the best anime I've seen in a while. 8/10

It's an anime like SAO (immersive MMORPG VR fantasy world) that deals more with the topics of escapism and reality/consciousness. It does get gorey and kinda horrifying later on so be warned. There's a few heartwarming moments too.

Mild spoilers ahead

Things I liked

It has a heavier premise once they leave the game world.

Brings up good points on escapism, consciousness/reality, AI ethics

Reality mindfuckery, holy cow

Beautiful sceneries in the VR world. The way they draw the real world was so dreary but it really set the vibe dichotomy

Distinct and easy to recognize character designs

Great action sequences

Super cool and creepy Eldritch stuff

I'm a sucker for video game abilities leaking into the real world

Meh

Karma is hit or miss.

The sudden genre change with a bunch of horror elements was a big surprise but I like that kind of stuff in moderation

Kinda gorey

Some of the personalities were a little flat, tropey, or didn't contribute a while lot

Definite spoilers below. Detailed thoughts:

I might go cry about Pico in another post but I loved the sequence with her backstory and it was an absolute mindfuck to find out she was an AI. I am glad that she did get to meet Ichi in the end though.

The father is such a piece of shit and they did a great job showing it. They showed his motivations and reasonings for the way he was later in the series and I felt it was almost there but I don't really believe he had any love for Aya and his motivation was strictly guilt. The ending where he hugs her didn't feel genuine to me.

I have mixed feelings on Kamuro.

Leon wasn't fleshed out enough to be sympathetic for. I wish they could have included more than just the lonely child explanation

Shigatera's end was very satisfying and really showed off the psychological/horror shift in the series

[fagenthusiast]

Romulus: Minute by Minute

Today I watched Aliens: Romulus, and recorded what I thought about the film when I felt something cool happened. I arrived at the theatre at 8:00PM, all of these notes are unedited and were recorded as the film happened

Start: 8:00 PM Oh nice! Neurodivergency rep! So far the sound effects are the high point for me.

8:02 Oh.

8:04 Tyler? They named this bitCh Tyler? Good to know the upper middle class survived to the future Not a big fan of drawing a comparison between autistic ppl and synths. Like, just make him a guy, and someone else the robot. Or, better yet, don’t insert harmful metaphors into your work.

8:11 I hate Tyler and his bitch brother. They’re the sort of people who are „progressive „ but just don’t want ppl to know what they are. This fucking guy Is talking death threats to the synth, and the other is baby talking him. And then they said the synth doesn’t actually feel anything, and the girl is portrayed as wrong and guilty for taking care of him.

8:21: bitch

8:39: If there’s anything I can compliment this film on, it’s lighting. The sickening yellows and clinical whites add a lot of character to each scene. Also, the lcd panels are hidden really poorly as crts, just some glass and an overlay. They aren’t even 4:3!

8:43: The use of practical effects where CGI would be more convenient warms my heart. It’s done so well too! That just makes me wonder about this abomination:

Just make his face really burned or something, plus, why is he on the Romulus? Callback points?

8:46 Some of this mild horror during scenes where the characters need to be quiet is stellar. This movie handles it’s jumpscares fantastically. Still don’t like that that guy is alive. (The British man)

8:49 I’m glad they didn’t keep the autism thing, this new use of Andy as a direct arm of corporate shittery is much more effective. He legit doesn’t care. I don’t like that British guy lived and the pilot didn’t. I hate British guy.

8:54 Callback!!! Why does Brit have to teach her tho? I get that it’s for the sake of callback, but it would be both more creepy and cooler if Andy said all of that instead, having a machine explain to you how something it’s never seen in fine detail!

8:57 Again, why must he be gun man? Is it to give his character an excuse to exist? I’m neutral about the gun redesign

8:59 I love Andy’s permanent slight concern face, even in death he keeps it up. Must’ve been hard for the actor, I cramp after minutes of that face

9:00 Yes!! The Brit died! Huzzah! Huzzah!

9:05 I think in a way, they handled Andy’s death well. She removes the chip because the OG Andy is the real one. He’s not defective, he’s just Andy.

9:07 By god. That pulse rifle sound fx is holy. I would pray to it. Maybe it’s the theatre speakers but Jesus Christ.

9:08: I think somewhere along the line Ridley realized how shit the og depictipn of Andy was, and this is an apology.

9:10 You just KNOW this pulse rifle sound is gonna be used in one of Those arcade on rails shootemups with the crazy recoil

9:11: boy howdy do these guys not know what a planets rings look like

9:13: these practical effects, omg! That right there is the face of death. ( the alien ofc)

9:20 I. Hate. Shock. Horror. It’s pointless and cheap and dulls the experience for ppl like me, with birth and pregnancy shit being a specific trigger.

9:22 The cinematography and tight camera angles is really well done. Alien man!!

9:26 Dude this movie is callback central! I don’t hate it at all, and it relieves tension where it matters, but in tense scenes I’d rather be immersed in the scene plus, ANDY DIED what the fuck this is so tragic

9:30 Hoopla shit she lives!!! Ohh my god holy shit THANK THE PULSE RIFLE SFX!

SUMMARY

7.5/10

The autism/robot parralel is unneeded and tacky. it bogs down the film and alienates people like me. other than that, this film maintains the alien vibe, and is a breath of fresh air when it comes to the slew of shite alien films. the human/human/alien hybrid at the end is pointless and confusing, and acts as an excuse to have a gross birth scene thats a little too much for me personally. its flawed, not as good as aliens, better than 3.

[tinypandacakes]

So a song cane to me after I finished reading the newest and wildest chapter of TK <3 (excellent work as always. I gave myself a mild headache because I wanted to be snuggly warm and also left alone and cooled off like Hase lmao so many emotions made me get all...

BUT ALAS

The song is "Only You" by The Platters, in part because of the lyrics and also because of its use in Far Cry 5 as a... behavior training tactic, shall we say lol

It's an older track (1959) so the vibe may not fit the Spotify playlist, BUT it's a fun one. Sends a chill down my spine when I hear it because of Far Cry, but now I can add Trapper, Keeper to it in my head 😈

And on that note,

Time to finish looking over the itenerary for that fat Guilt Trip König's taking us on 😝😂

Itinerary for the guilt trip!!! You have the best puns, truly 😆 ~ ngl since it was such a struggle to get out I was a bit anxious…but I’m glad you liked it!! 💕 it such a big reassurance. Thank you.

This was an important turning point for Hase for this arc of the fic so I needed to do it justice.

I also do love older songs turned creepy vibe! Like you can look at some songs so innocently until…you don’t. You interpret the lyrics as more sinister. Then it takes on a whole new connotation and you can’t unhear it

[alphinias]

https://www.tumblr.com/alphinias/736177358693957632/i-saw-you-just-finished-mlwtwb-and-its-no-master

“The girls that get it get it”

YES THEY DO.

The kiss scene had me feeling HOT might have re watched a few times… wouldn’t mind a season 2 as long as they’re end game. No chemistry with the other brother I’m afraid, if anything came across creepy and gave off Jeremiah vibes, big ick for me.

Nice easy watch if you like that kind of stuff!

I rewatched the kiss several times and definitely plan to revisit it. IT WAS SO GOOD. The pulling each other in and the hand on her neck 🤭 even if the show is too trashy for you I’d recommend checking out the jackiecole kiss because!!!

I waffled back and forth on how I felt about Alex (between mild aw and wow he’s insufferable) and liked him the least in the middle of the show. I think he was mostly a nice guy and the way he was nicest to Jackie and his little lord of the rings obsession was cute, but I always get irritated fast at younger brothers who resent the cooler older brother to the point of “oh so you actually hate him yikes”. I think he’s more justified than Jeremiah but agree he gave me the ick a little at times and definitely picked up some similar vibes between the two of them. At the end of the day it’s just obvious he and Jackie aren’t right for each other and it’s one of those cases of “if you like him, why would you ship him with her?”

Superior chem aside I think it’s clear the narrative is pushing Cole. If Jackie was my friend or little sister, I’d tell her to stay the hell away, but I’m all for it in this kind of media lmao. I think he’d be endgame, at least eventually. The plot getting too out of hand for even me? Could be a possibility but I’d check it out regardless. I have serious doubts we’ll get a S2 which is why I’m really glad they at least gave us that kiss if nothing else.

[ccristata]

Somebody Come Get Her...

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OFC (Original Female Character)

Word Count: 1,549

The only thing more satisfying than catching the attention of the stunner at the bar of the Hard Deck is watching the legendary Hangman fail miserably at catching the attention of the stunner at the bar of the Hard Deck... Only why is Jake acting like he has an ace up his sleeve and why is Javy so mad about the bet?

Warnings: Mild cursing.

Masterlist

Archive of Our Own

“Do I want to know what you boys are whispering about?” Natasha Trace approached the gaggle of aviators locked in an intense discussion.

“No.” Bob and Rooster responded in unison, both looking thoroughly done with the situation. Phoenix raised her brows.

“They’re discussing some girl.” Bob continued.

“Not some girl! The girl.” Fitch clarified, clarifying nothing at all.

“Apparently, she has a nice ass.” Bradley was slightly more helpful.

“I didn’t say a-” “You should see these jeans she’s in!” Payback and Fanboy spoke over each other.

“Ok. Nope, I’ve heard enough.”

“Enough about what?” Jake Seresin sounded downright cheery at the distaste in Phoenix's voice.

“There’s this girl…” “Uh-uh! We saw her first!” Hangman’s eyes darted between the chaotic conversation.

“You don’t own her.” Rooster said, exasperated. 

“But we definitely have dibs over you all.”

“She doesn’t look the type.” He continued ignoring the interruption. “She looks far too smart to fall for anything.”

“50 bucks I can get her number in five minutes.” Hangman had a cocky smirk on his face.

“No way! You don’t even know who-”

“Brunette, blue sweatshirt, standing in the corner waiting on a drink. I know.”

“Rooster’s right. She’s not stupid, there’s no way she’ll fall for anything.” Mickey was unimpressed with Jake’s confidence. Bradley, Bob, and Natasha were exchanging unimpressed looks over the whole situation.

“Then it’s easy money for you. Here, I’ll do 50 each.” Jake pulled out his wallet gesturing at Reuben and Mickey, competitive glint in his eye.

Reuben shook his head, “If you put her off enough to ruin all of our chances…”

“I won’t. Beers?” Jake asked cheerfully, already making his way to the crowded bar.

“At least this’ll be entertaining if nothing else.” Mickey said, starting a timer on his watch. Bradley snorted.

“How long do you think it’ll take her to send him packing?” Bob asked as all of the aviators shifted to watch Hangman step up next to where she was leaning against the bartop.

“Depends on how much of a backbone she has, she might just wait him out.” Phoenix mused. Across the bar, Hangman made a comment to her and she responded neutrally.

“I don’t know, you see the collared shirt under her sweatshirt? And the way she holds herself? She’s staying out of the way but she’s got a professional vibe going on. I think she’s got it” Bob responded. Bradley chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder.

“She’s laughing at him.” Payback pointed out smugly.

“Or she’s laughing at something he said.” Fanboy muttered. Jake flashed her a smile and turned to order from Penny. The girl laughed at Penny’s response, shooting a quick quip with an almost smirk, turning back to Jake. She propped her chin on her hand, small smile remaining as she raised her brow at whatever he was saying.

“Why are we being creepy stalkers?” Coyote inquired as he and Maverick finally made their way up to the group.

“We’re not being creepy!” “We’re watching Hangman crash and burn.”

Javy raised his brows. “He’s not crashing and burning.” He responded neutrally.

“Yes he is, you haven’t seen this girl.” Payback assured, the rest of the group nodding along. 

“Brunette, 5’3”, dimples, fills out her jeans? I’ve seen her. He’s not crashing and burning.” Javy’s confidence was entirely unshaken. Maverick finally caught sight of the pair as Penny brought Jake his beers and set a light green drink in front of the girl. Her profile came into view as she turned to look at Jake over her glass. She wasn’t leaning into him but didn’t pull away when he did. Recognition registered and Maverick frowned.

“That’s Crissa FaClarin. What the hell is he doing bothering her?” 

“You know her?” Bradley asked.

“I know her father.” Pete’s frown was bordering on a scowl as she responded to Jake, clearly sarcastic even from across the bar. “She does know how to send them packing.” He admitted, expression smoothing out a little.

“Please tell me you didn’t put money on this.” Coyote was the only one not captivated with the sight of the banter happening across the bar, turning his back fully to stare down the group.

“Just 50 bucks. But look at her! She’s not going to give him her number in the next,” Mickey checked his watch, “Two minutes.”

Javy sighed. “She doesn’t need to.”

“What?” Fitch sounded distracted as Javy shook his head. The girl took a sip of her drink and set it down, shaking her head at Jake.

“He had her number before he walked over there.” 

“He saw her earlier?” “No way! We were together all day, we would have noticed her!” Payback and Fanboy were incensed. Jake cocked his head in amusement and blinked at her before responding.

“He has her number because they’ve been married two years.” Coyote’s dry comment finally tore the attention away from the couple beginning to make their way from the bar, still locked in conversation.

A chorus of confused voices disagreed with him.

“I know her father! I would have heard about this.” Maverick’s cut through.

“William? Nice guy, I met him at their wedding.” Javy stared Maverick down as the rest of the group stood in stunned silence.

“Evening gentlemen! Phoenix, Rooster,” Jake greeted. All eyes snapped back to the couple.

“Hi Javy.” Crissa had a small smile on her face as she leaned on her toes to hug Coyote. He let out a frustrated sigh as he hugged her back. He opened his mouth as they drew back.

“I heard.” A look of knowing amusement was plain on her face. She turned to Maverick next.

“Pete, it’s good to see you.” Her voice was warm as she gave him a quick hug in greeting. His expression was frozen between confusion and frustration. 

“Bradley, right?” She turned to the tall man with a smile and her hand extended. 

“Yeah? Uh, Yes. Sorry.” He shook his head turning to Javy and Jake. “She’s not really… this is an elaborate prank right? I mean, you’re not…” He sighed, brows knit together.

“Of course it’s a prank!” Natasha exploded. 

“Married to Jake?” Crissa finished Bradley’s sentence glanced between Phoenix and Rooster. “I am.” She nodded with a gently amused look on her face. Phoenix’s expression got even more stormy as she glared Jake down.

“Why don’t you ever wear your ring?” She looked at Crissa with a small grimace. “I’m sorry but,”

“I know. He does.” Crissa was calm and unconcerned. Natasha gestured at Jake’s bare hand. He raised his brows at her.

“Yes, because one symbol is the ultimate authority on how loyal I am to my wife.” He dryly voiced everyone’s silent concerns. “And of course, you lot see my entire life and I never dress any differently than when I’m around y’all.” He reached for the chain around his neck, pulling his dog tags over his shirt. A shiny silver band clinked against the tags.

“But either way, I can’t wear it when I fly and I don’t like leaving it off.” His jaw clenched lightly, finally allowing his expression to slip into anything other than calm and teasing.

Crissa’s expression was gentle as she watched him. Her lips pressed together in concealed amusement as her eyes remained sympathetic. She turned to regard the shocked aviators with her husband. They all looked somewhere between bafflement, disbelief, and anger. 

Jake shook his head as he tucked the tags back under his shirt.

Crissa glanced at Javy. He met her eyes and then nodded. 

“C’mon, I believe you owe me another humiliation.” He clapped Jake on the shoulder and led him towards the dartboard.

Jake turned to shoot Crissa a look as they left. She simply smiled and gave a small wave.

“He hates taking his ring off.” She informed Natasha gently. The whole group refocused on her with curiosity.

“He warned me multiple times before the first day he was going to have to take it off for work. I told him I didn’t care and it took me far too long to figure out that he was the one upset about it. He left it on his nightstand and when he got home he ran upstairs to put it back on, came downstairs, buried his face in my stomach and wouldn’t let me get up for an hour.” Crissa was amused and doting. “He’d put it back on as often as he could if it wasn’t for me. We work in close enough fields that we don’t tell people we’re married to save ourselves the trouble.” Her eyes flickered over to Pete. “And it’s just easier if no one knows he’s married, we don’t even enter the same equation in people’s minds that way.” She shrugs. “He’d prefer to get to claim me but would be horrified if someone gave me shit over him.” 

“Damn. Hangman a softie, who’da thought.” Rooster looked grudgingly impressed. “How did you end up? I mean-”

“What’s a nice girl like me doing with a jerk like him?” She finished his thought dryly. The whole group nodded and she chuckled. “There’s a long answer, which is the actual story, but the short answer is that I’m not as nice, and he’s not as much of a jerk as people think.”

[chibivesicle]

Trigun Maximum - I have feelings.

Ooooh boy.  I ended up at the shop for a bit this morning to have my HVAC controller in my car fixed and I had some down time.  I spent it reading the Trigun manga while the local CBS station had the morning news on the TV.  The pacing for this manga is fast fast fast fast and faster.  I will definitely need to go back and reread all of it after my first pass because it is both sparse and dense at the same time.  The amount of information that you have to glean from it - not sure if it is a stylistic choice or forces you to think about it just yet.

Yet, you know it is never a good sign when a character ends up bleeding profusely in the author’s notes.  Warning, mild spoilers ahead for up to volume 9.

Several plot points have just sort of made me go, ‘huh . . .’ and try to shake out why it would make sense in the context of things.

1.) Knives is the leader of his own personal crusade and he doesn’t need to convince anyone of it.  More that he simply tells himself that ‘sacrifices are necessary for the cause’, when the cause is himself? All other life is meaningless save for his own?  I hope the next few volumes clear this up a bit more since I’m currently struggling to really understand his motivations.  Especially, his idea to steal as many plants as possible, ‘eat’ his ‘sisters’ and to do what?  Even if the other ships get close enough to the planet and he absorbs them, then what?  I dunno man, what is your endgame?

2.) The Eye of Michael are an assassin group that recruits orphans due to the fact they lack attachment to others.  And their goal is to achieve what exactly?  They’ve been around for 133 years and they are far to obvious to act as a sort of covert group. I mean sure, if you kill everyone in your path there won’t be eyewitnesses but the giant cross - not subtle.  They are working with Knives but it isn’t the same - only part of them were sort of committed to the gung ho guns.  I really need to go back and glean from the text.

3.) Wolfwood is around 20 - max?!?! I’m also baffled how he got recruited based on what we’ve seen up through volume 9.  I found his words to be out of alignment with his age as a child at the orphanage.  Only going by the anime, I put him to be older, like 30s.  When he has his showdown with Chapel, we know that he was trained by him for ten years but the specifics are vague and it is clear he fucked off on his own when he realized he didn’t want to be told what to do.  In the anime, his realistic words of wisdom make sense for them to come from an adult with life experiences.  Yes, trauma and a harsh childhood can make you grow up faster but he always had that weird vibe that he was trained in some sort of religious philosophy that he could have more input into things.

Yet, in the manga he still has mature dialogue that I don’t quite get.  I hope volume 10 helps to explain things further in regards to this weird disconnect.  Wolfwood is there to oppose Vash in a constructive way, not in the straight out opposition that Knives is to Vash.  Yet, by having Wolfwood start out as someone who is good with others, willing help out and care about people.  It makes it obvious in retrospect he’d never be able to have given his all to the role that he was supposed to fill.  I mean the fact that he shot and crippled his mentor but didn’t kill him already speaks volumes.  Does he try to save everyone and not kill like Vash?  No.  Yet his destructive power is more tempered than many others.  He also has that built in protective nature which pops up all the time.  Though, he has spent a lot of time rationalizing that it is why he can kill people.

4.) Plants are technology that works on using the life force of angelic beings trapped in a bubble that are something - I need more info.  Pleeeeeeaaaase? Pretty please?  And are definitely modeled on more ‘realistic’ versions of angels e.g. not looks like a person with a pair of wings. And more in the this angel has a fuckton of eyes all over it and weird creepy manifestations, extra wings, heads, faces etc etc etc.

Does this mean that Knives is into a weird from of cannibalism?  He tried to absorb Vash as well but obviously since they are diametrically opposed to each other’s viewpoints we know that isn’t going to happen.  Isn’t he supposed to respect the other plants that he’s essentially using as an extension of himself?  How is this fair to them.  Hello plant ladies (?) allow me to rescue from your human oppressors - to serve me as a giant melded mess. . . . 

These aren’t my most organized thoughts - just the general feelings and questions that really pop to the surface.  I’ll try to reorganize my thoughts for the future.  I’m thinking of:

1.) Wolfwood analysis - I know lots of people have their own interpretation of him, but I’d like a crack at it too.

2.) Tone of the anime vs the manga.  Right now, I’m leaning towards preferring the anime; by no means is the manga bad, just they have different ways to get to the same sort of end.

3.) Review each episode (or two) of Trigun Stampede.   I’ve seen other commentary online which is being a little more gentle to it.  Not that I want to skewer it, but more point out where it works and doesn’t work in the context of the manga and previous anime.  I purposely, went ahead and rewatched the original just to prepare for watching Stampede.  I’m also getting the vibe that some people are like me and have done this while many other people’s commentary are coming from “I watched it on Adult Swim.” or “I’ve never seen it but it was apparently popular.”  Making me feel even older with the Adult Swim comment since I saw it before then on fan sub VHS.

4.) Why Trigun Maximum is a type of seinen that works for a female audience.  I think this also applies to Golden Kamuy.  The series do have some overlap and I’m beginning to wonder if there are other elements of these two fairly violent series that allow for them to have a more equal gendered fandom.

That’s all for now.  I need to put all my thoughts together and start cracking.

[kimium]

For the Choose Violence Ask: 1, 7, 8 and 25!

(From this ask HERE)

Thanks, friend! I'm so ready to answer these! Let's get started but before I do I want to remind everyone that just because this is a "choose violence" ask that these are just my opinions. This is all for fun and if you disagree, that's fine. Don't take this too seriously.

Warning: Spoilers for My Hero Academia, mentions of abuse, obsession, and mild Fire Emblem Awakening, Fates, and Engage spoilers.

The character everyone gets wrong.

Endeavour from BNHA. I'm starting off strong, aren't I?

I am not here to defend any of Endeavour's actions. I understand that many elements within Endeavour are very triggering for many people who have experienced abusive relationships. Yes, as a character he is an unforgivable monster. If it's therapeutic for fans to see his family tell him, "We don't forgive you, we will never forgive you, and we won't forget what you've done" I'm 100% on board. Fuck Endeavour and his shitty actions!

Yet, on the flip side I think Endeavour is a character foil to All Might as the series asks the question: "What does it mean to be a hero?"

All Might represents the most "ideal" answer: You help people because it's the right thing to do. You aren't seeking power, fame, glory, or prestige. Being a hero is born out of a pure desire.

However, Endeavour is clearly fuelled by his jealousy, hatred, pride, and his desire to surpass All Might. This desire funnels into his home life and the broken family Endeavour creates with his own hands. One of the most important relationships in Endeavour's life is ruined and destroyed by his own hands. We see this with his treatment of his children (Touya and Shouto in particular) and his wife.

To me it so cathartic to watch all of Endeavour's development centred around him realizing how shitty of a person he truly was. It's about him having to face his dirty past and be unable to run away from it. Literally, poetic justice to have this abusive, selfish, prideful asshole forced to face his mistakes, not able to make excuses, and have to own up.

Now, the series offers a lot of grey areas regarding Endeavour that many don't like. That's fine. He can be the irredeemable character in your eyes and I think it's 100% justified.

So TL;DR: I think Endeavour, while having some of the most shitty character traits and backstory, has many grey areas and is meant to be a tool in the plot/overall story that asks the question "What does it mean to be a hero?" However, if it helps you to just go "fuck this character, all my homies hate him", go for it.

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how the fandom acts about them?

-Inhale, exhale-

I've begun to see this trend with some Fire Emblem ladies, so I'm going to talk about all of them here. I cannot stand when people take complex characters like Tharja (Awakening), Camilla (Fates), and Ivy (Engage) and boil them down to "They're in love/obsessed with the Avatar character and it's sooooo quirky!"

Look, I know Tharja's supports with both Robin's has obsession in there. I know Camilla loves all their siblings, but Corrin especially and several supports/plot lines revolves around this. I know Ivy tells Alear to their face "I love you" and it's awkward-cute-kinda cringe. Which by the way, I am so into Ivy and how her appearance/first introduction VS reality is off.

HOWEVER, there is more to these three ladies than just their relationship with the Avatar Character!

Tharja has hilarious supports with the other cast! I love her awkward, weird, creepy vibe. Or what about the can of worms when we look at her relationship with Noire?

Camilla has her sense of love for her family to the point she becomes petty. Look at her supports with Xander! Or what about her fear of others leaving her. Look at her supports with Selena! Or what about her supports with Niles?

Ivy's supports with Alycrst, Diamant, and Alfred are so interesting! Or her supports with her retainers! Or Hortensia! She's such a complex character with so many regrets, hopes, and fears!

Also, if we can stop reducing them to their breast sizes, I'd be grateful, thanks.

8. Common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about.

Coffee Shop AUs are a low B tier/ high C tier trope. Look, I get that people are into the tone/vibes of coffee shops. I know that the AU can create many awesome fluff stories and are a break from heavier stories. However, I find them to be (for the most part) kind of boring.

25. Common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing.

I've rewritten this at least three times, but I think being concise is best:

-Shipping for the most part is all for fun and isn't meant to be taken seriously or an indication of the person's "morals". Blocking and blacklisting tags exists for a reason. Use it liberally if you must and move on.

[dovahnap]

So on a road trip recently my husband and I listened to a couple episodes of the Search Engine podcast—one about the creepy search-engine-for-faces that renders everyone subject to the panopticon that I had some thoughts on (what a scary future!!!) but the one that gave us most conversation was the two-part season finale where they tackle the question of what it takes to get into an exclusive gay German techno club called Berghain.

A few thoughts:

First: I’m pretty sure I could get in.

Second: I don’t think I would want to get in.

Third: I think (First) because (Second).

Fourth: Despite (Second), thinking (First) makes me happy.

Nothing sounds less appealing to me than a loud, crowded room that is probably too hot because of all the drug-and alcohol-induced activities. It sounds like a headache. It sounds boring. I must admit I was surprised at PJ Vogt’s professed love of clubbing because I imagine him as being middle-aged and therefore too old for clubbing (as a This-American-Life-style podcaster I find it impossible to imagine him any way but alone in a closet speaking intimately into a microphone, also as a mouse), but I suppose we all contain multitudes.

But anyway. Despite this, if I could magically be teleported to the front of the line, stand before the implacable bouncer, and be either granted admittance or rejected before being teleported back to my bedroom, I think I would just out of curiosity. It’s not quite the same impulse that made me take innumerable buzzfeed quizzes back in the day, or get really into the MBTI; I think it’s an ultra-mild version of the one that compels me to take internet IQ tests (and then DNF them out of fear), or post a selfie to the amiugly subreddit: the desire to be judged. I’m usually pessimistic about my place in any ranking system, but I care little enough about getting into Berghain that if I were given the thumbs-down it wouldn’t affect me much. Still, the thought that I could get in is a bit of an ego boost. That’s literally it. The thought that I could be one of a Select Few—even for something I have no interest in doing—is shamefully appealing.

Generally, I don’t like anything where exclusivity is one of the main selling points. If something would lose some or most of its value were it available to everyone, then its value isn’t intrinsic. However, as the podcast points out, if Berghain were not exclusive, it wouldn’t be Berghain. The vibe, as an emergent property of the club’s attendees, must be cultivated and maintained via a sommelier-like taste for people. Clubgoers at Berghain are not only consumers of an experience, but participants in and creators of, and not everyone fits.

The argument makes sense. Gatekeeping keeps communities from being diluted into a lowest-common-denominator experience. If you’re overly inclusive, you become generic and lose whatever appeal—beyond brand name—that made you valuable in the first place. To hear the bouncer tell it, he’s something of a curator of people, benevolently allowing in those who are meant for Berghain and sending those who would fit better elsewhere off to elsewhere. I get it. Vibes must match.

But still, the exclusivity is inarguably part of the appeal of Berghain. If the exclusivity were not a part of Berghain’s reputation, it would not have a four-hour wait to get in. People—even people like me, who have zero interest in the experience of clubbing—want to be let in there precisely because it is hard to get in. I hypothesize that even if every person line had impeccable vibes, a good portion would still be turned away because being perceived as exclusive is just that valuable. To be part of an exclusive club is to be elite. To be elite is to be special. And not just special on your own, but special in the same, rare way as a select few other people.

I’m sure for the regulars of such exclusive establishments there’s a real sense of belonging. But what percentage of tourists who successfully camouflage themselves and gain admittance really enjoy the experience? How much of the night is about ego, and how much is genuine appreciation for techno culture? I think that’s part of what the bouncer is theoretically trying to control for, but I’m sorry—clubgoers are not nerds quizzing each other on the history of electronic music. No matter how much the podcast tried to convince me that actually there’s a deep, somewhat rational and meaningful distinction between who gets in and who doesn’t, I am not convinced.

I’m trying to figure out why this bothers me so much despite believing both that I would get in (resting bitch face would work in my favor, I think) and knowing that I wouldn’t want to be there even if I did. I guess it’s the knowledge that people value exclusivity so highly to the point that they would subject themselves to something they probably don’t even like that much in order to belong somewhere exclusive. And it’s the knowledge that I am not immune.

If Berghain truly is a place for gay, artsy techno-party people, then it makes sense that it is not the place for most people since most people are not gay, artsy techno-party people. But do that many people even want to be gay artsy techno-party people? Is being amongst their numbers that desirable, even to nerdy podcasters? Is being amongst their numbers that desirable to nerdy podcasters precisely because they know that they are the opposite of a gay artsy techno-party person? Is that why I get some enjoyment out of the idea that I would get in?

I guess my real question is what are the would-be attendees of Berghain trying to prove? And to whom are they trying to prove it?

I don’t know. I think I like the idea that I would turn them down. I would look at the bouncer and tell him that *he* is not invited to *my* party. I am too cool for the coolest club ever, actually. I am a rock. I am an island.

Instead I am writing to no one on Tumblr.

On second thought I would probably not get in.

[2n2n]

I've been thinking about Tsukasa and Mitsuba again....

I... on this lookthrough, maybe I'm imagining it, but I think Tsukasa is actually influencing Mitsuba quite a bit, as his closest peer?

it really is cute how Mitsuba is always doing his best to go along with Tsukasa's games, eager to play.

by picture perfect I think Tsukasa's really rubbed off on him!

Mitsuba in Hell of Mirrors has much less flair than this! Really, he's clumsy and shitty at being 'creepy' or 'scary', then... he's learned a lot, hasn't he! I can only think of one person being the inspiration....

My favorite 'Mitsuba moment' is this one from the spinoff. Mitsuba early on is always screeching PERVERT, SICKO, WAAAHH! dramatically victimized, but by this point, being genuinely assaulted, he's rather Tsukasa-like in his dead-eyed silent speedy smack down

suppose it reminds me of our boy who doesn't put much emphasis on putting you in your place

ah too soon to say if this is the real Mitsuba, if its not just a mimic monster of the week sitch since more kaii will be out and about now, but, if it is Mitsuba.... that would be a distinct furthering of the vibes which were already budding in PP, Mitsuba acquiring Tsukasa's ominous flourishes, confidence, and embellished emphasis

the teasing playfulness just reminds me ^^ of Tsukasa! the touchiness, too! it would be more interesting if Kou had to deal with something Tsukasa-like, honestly.... I don't know how the tsundere bit will work... with Kou's blitheness....

well, they spent a lot of time together around the Severance arc, didn't they?

I wonder what happened to the Mitsuba who was forced to the far shore, vulnerable, alone... by the end of Severance, he's safely in the broadcast club with Tsukasa babysitting him. Maybe some good bonding happened... I hope, LOL!

Mitsuba was a very easily influenced person, when alive... he had changed his whole personality in an effort to be liked (and ironically, it was while he was wearing that personality that he impressed upon Kou as a mild-mannered sweet classmate with soft eyes... lol...). He was eager for attention and praise (though naturally bad at it even with his efforts)... even with Tsukasa, he does his best to play along, and with Kou, he's always the eager initiator.

Trying to be more perceptive to his changes this time around... I kinda think some Tsukasa-ness would do Mitsuba a lot of good, and may naturally be happening this entire time?

How would you describe Tsukasa and Mitsuba’s dynamic? :0

Like. Hard to quantify honestly, in all directions.

I find it's hard to read Mitsuba. He's not direct or honest about how he feels about just about anybody, and he's dramatic about minor things at the best of times… I couldn't tell you precisely what Mitsuba even feels about Kou. I struggle with knowing what he wants of any dynamic, or what he values strongly, or if any relationship is 'building' or 'growing' at all. He's rather static in his rudeness and doesn't gain newfound reverence for anybody thus far. As a result you don't see me post about him much because I have 0 predictions for his arc or direction. Like, what does Mitsuba... need... to do? What's his personal growth we're heading towards, beyond the tangible and literal goal of personhood? Hanako needs to learn how to talk about his feelings, how to come to terms with love and how to wish for something again, how to forgive himself, how to want his own happiness again, etc etc, but does Mitsuba need to.... learn to be less crass, or is that just the way he is? What even is the 'final form' of Mitsuba's dynamic with Tsukasa? Will Tsukasa be imperative to Mitsuba's emotional growth.... do we imagine they are becoming or moving towards valuing one another at all, or do we expect their relationship to stay the same, and other characters to move Mitsuba? All the time hanging out in the Broadcast Club doesn't make Mitsuba refer to Tsukasa with any more faith or trust....

Speaking generally though, I do think being around Tsukasa seems to reduce Mitsuba into very basic, safe, childlike behavior, which is… fascinating? I think because Tsukasa is… so "Tsukasa"… that Mitsuba doesn't do nearly so much performance/overcompensation around him? He isn't worked into a defensive tizzy so easily, he can be seen behaving more childishly. I think Mitsuba is more guarded around kids his own age/older, as a result maybe of being bullied? Mitsuba is a pretty high-strung person and he isn't even smiley and carefree around his mom for too long at a time, but he's weirdly placid around Tsukasa? It's hard for me to imagine him being like this around anyone else. Personally I think this is the 'realest' Mitsuba. No airs, no defensiveness. What on Earth does it mean that I think Mitsuba is his most earnest/simplest around Tsukasa?

I have literally no idea.

They feel like two 5 year olds. It's Mitsuba's most charming status for me. I like him best around Tsukasa!

I think there's a weird duality where Tsukasa disarms Mitsuba by being so childish, he brings out Mitsuba's childlike heart, but then he's of course scary and unpredictable and not trustworthy to Mitsuba, who is aware he's probably being used and that Tsukasa doesn't have his best interests at heart (?).

And then the other element, where Mitsuba is actually far more exceedingly childish than anyone else in this cast (even Tsukasa....), in that he likes/wants to be coddled or taken care of….

the Broadcast Club's dynamic is weirdly perfect for him, with Sakura being this calm older figure trying to accommodate him, Natsuhiko being protective and shepherding, and then Tsukasa being doting/responsible at times. In much the same way Nene reacts positively to Hanako's pretty demeaning comfort, Mitsuba does react well to Tsukasa's brand of "shush shush, pat pat" comfort, and he seeks it out.

And I think this is something only Tsukasa can provide (and so without judgement lol)… Mitsuba's attitude is so polarizing anyhow, I don't think anybody else would even presume this is what he wants/needs, and maybe he wouldn't react well if someone like Kou or Nene tried, anyway… I don't have any idea? Tsukasa is an odd authority figure and just impersonal enough to be able to do this…. perhaps the same nature which makes him unable to be a true friend, puts him in a weird place to be a… ... ..... ?? ? ? ? guardian ??? emotional resource ?????????? ? ? ? ??

As for Tsukasa's end, just as much of a rune. In the little croquette eating image, he seems to just be [...] about Mitsuba referring to them as family (and for the guy obsessed with his brother, maybe that's a little inappropriate, Mitsuba, lol). I kind of think Mitsuba is mildly annoying to Tsukasa (he can get impatient with him lol) and I kind of think Mitsuba is actually more interested in him than he is in Mitsuba. If mitsuba ran off and did anything else of his own accord for a long time, I don't think Tsukasa cares much, he isn't demanding Mitsuba's time or attention at all. I don't think Mitsuba's neediness really endears him to Tsukasa, I don't think Tsukasa is really after that kind of dynamic with anyone for his own fulfillment? Tsukasa is otouto he does not seek to be older brother (and I think he's imitating Amane when he comforts Mitsuba, anyway!). I can see how Sakura's quiet and patient (but stern when necessary) older-sibling vibe is more Tsukasa's 'speed'.

It's a mixed-up dynamic. I don't really feel their needs are compatible, I don't think they can fulfill one another, so they're at an awkward position being around one another all the time. I don't know, will this relationship evolve into something really genuine? Is that important for either's character growth? Or are they temporary bit players in each other's narrative? Does Tsukasa earnestly value lives that aren't his brother's, or is everyone a sort of pawn in a greater plan that only need concern Amane as victor? I don't know at all. I like to think Tsukasa's genuine in his own way.

I'm interested in Kou's vendetta against Tsukasa VS Mitsuba's friendship with him. I'm curious what would happen if Kou could make a meaningful stand against Tsukasa. Mitsuba spends much more time with Tsukasa, and I don't think he really wants to see Tsukasa blasted with a beam or something. I would love to see Mitsuba pressed into a position to have to declare how he really feels about... basically.. anybody? Please, Mitsuba, help me.

I will say I think fandom can be pretty overly intense judging these two's bond, and I don't think AidaIro are nearly so severe about it. They had a rough start, but well.

can't be too hasty in our judgement lol

[godkilller]

          out of character.  A day in the life of a feral father constantly having his patience and restraint for not murdering someone tested:

[jangofctts]

Hello, ex fic writer again! Apologies for using your askbox as an Adrian ficdump but he is so big, and so dumb, and I have a mighty NEED. (Also if the marker isnt already taken would you mind if I used the 🤖 ?)

It never really occurred to Adrian that while he might enjoy punishing criminals he might enjoy the idea of you doing the same to him.

It started when a customer got a little too friendly with you at Fennel Fields, you were a waitress there and you had a habit of attracting attention whether you liked it or not. It was easy to understand why, you were the most pretty girl in the restaurant in the world, and every time Adrian saw you he felt the air escape his lungs just that little bit more. You were way out of his league, but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t stare from afar and at least dream of a perfect life with you.

You were everything he wasn’t, you were mild-mannered, you always made sure to be as nice as possible even to the people who didn't deserve it, and he loved that about you, it's what made him obsessed with you in the first place. Even when the other co-workers pointed out his own flaws and lack of social skills you were quick to defend him, and damn it if he thought he couldn’t fall more in love you manage to prove him wrong every single day.

The problem, however, was that other men noticed you too.

While he hated when customers blatantly flirted with you he couldn’t do anything, you weren’t his, so all he could do is watch with jealousy as the third guy of the day writes his number on his receipt in hopes that you’ll call back. The one respite he managed to get was you taking the receipt and throwing it into the nearest bin the moment they left, without fail. Even if Adrian couldn’t have you, he was satisfied that no one else could either. Maybe it was a bit creepy, but the thought never crossed his mind as he watched you take another order, this time from an older man. He was slightly overweight, his hairline was receding and he tried to poorly cover it up with a bad comb-over.

He had, as Adrian called it, massive creep vibes.

You took his order as normal, and he guesses that the man made some awful pickup line because you seem to be getting more and more uncomfortable. Again, the creep tried to make a pass at you, but unlike the other times you tried to make it very clear that you weren’t interested, but he obviously wasn’t getting the hint. You tried letting him down gently, his sweet honey bee always trying to do the right thing, but that changed when he started getting handsy with you. As he watched the greasy mess of a man place his hands on your ass, Adrian was already drawing up locations where he could dump the body safely when you interrupted his thoughts and gave the stranger possibly the most embarrassing talking down to he’s ever seen. It was like a parent talking to a disobedient child, Adrian almost pitied him.

Almost.

The guy was clearly uncomfortable, not expecting you to say anything back, and you even managed to draw attention from the other customers before he left with his tail tucked between his legs. Adrian had never seen you angry before, but seeing you admonish the guy was probably definitely the hottest thing he’d ever seen. If you noticed how hard he was you never said anything about it, but for once he was grateful he was a busboy instead of a waiter because it would be more than a little difficult to hide his arousal from the public, and more importantly from you.

After that little public display you plagued his thoughts more than usual, the dark look in your eyes playing on repeat in his head all shift, the way confidence radiated off of you in waves as your fingers twitched in preparation to strike him, barely held back by your morality. The contrast between his adorable honey bee and the vengeful goddess he was blessed to witness sent him into a fucking spiral.

The moment he arrived home he practically ran to the bedroom with zero care towards the uniform he was currently shedding off of himself. Maybe if he was in a better mood he would have had the patience to throw his discarded clothes into the dirty laundry, but his dick was becoming uncomfortably tight in his boxers and he needed to solve it now. By the time Adrian made it to his bed he realized how desperately he needed to cum when just the feeling of taking his underwear off made him release a breath he didn't even know he was holding. As he relaxed into the soft sheets he imagined you, your pretty features, your voice, anything and everything his rattled brain could begin to focus on. It felt dirty, the idea of jerking off to someone who probably didn’t even know or care about his existence, but the moment his fingers began to squeeze at the base of his cock all care was thrown out the window.

He tried to keep some form of self-control, really he did, but he was fighting a losing battle as images of you played on repeat in his head. He imagined it was him that you were berating, your words cutting through him as his hand struggled to keep a slow rhythm, the slow grind of his hips betraying his urge to try to make his pleasure last as long as possible. He imagined how you’d look towering over him, those same darkened eyed leering at him while he waited patiently for you to touch him, hands at his sides and cock obscenely red and leaking. Maybe he was being punished, maybe he didn’t follow your orders and you were angry with him, his pleasure-driven brain was either too hyperactive to think or too fucked out to care as his hand picked up speed.

In the back of his mind he realized he was mumbling praises as if you were in the room with him, the walls listening in to his hopeless pleas as if by some miracle the universe would grace him with your presence.

He tried to imagine his hand was your own, how small it would feel around his cock? Would it be big enough to wrap around? It was probably softer than his own, you’d probably look down at him with those beautiful eyes, make him sit and watch as he became helpless to the gratification you gave him.

Maybe you’d make him beg for it first, wait until his cock turned as red as his uniform before you even entertained the idea of touching him. He felt himself get louder as a groan erupted past his lips, a line of pre-cum slowly falling down his shaft. Adrian knew his neighbors might probably complain but didn’t give a shit as he let every breathless moan escape his bruised lips. Was he biting them before? He could faintly taste copper and it only enhanced the blindingly hot sensations he felt as his free hand began to grasp at his hair, briefly imagining it was your own before he felt his eyes roll back at the thought. It eventually found its place gripping the bedsheets, knuckles white as he lost himself to his passion, his moaning damn near pornographic.

Scratch that, Adrian was definitely going to get a noise complaint tomorrow.

He looked like a mess, curly hair sticking out in all directions, drool slowly leaking from the side of his mouth, his face flushed a delicious shade of red while his hips danced to the rhythm of his hand with reckless abandon. It hurt to breathe, he even felt his hand begin to cramp as he fully surrendered himself to you, offering everything he could give, his body, his sanity, all to a version of you he knew he would never have. He looked pathetic, felt pathetic, but couldn’t bring himself to stop as a particularly hard twist of his hand left him whimpering, tears pooling at his eyes. Soon enough Adrian came with a strangled noise, eyes squeezing closed as he felt his tired hips move on their own, his cum making a mess of his stomach and thighs. He couldn’t even bring himself to care, his own breathing ragged and wheezing as the sheer force of his orgasm sent him to an early sleep. When he woke up he felt tired, in every sense of the word. He was dirty, his body ached, but even through all that he could only think of you.

“Fuck.” he thought to himself. He was seriously a grade A pervert now, jerking off to his own co-worker, but at the same time his shame was overshadowed by his newfound determination. He wasn’t satisfied with just being your co-worker, not anymore, he wanted you all to himself, would go as far as to say he needed you more than he needed air. For once Adrian was happy as he got cleaned up and ready to go to work, because now he had a new goal in life, to gain your affection. Even if it meant he couldn’t look you in the eyes for a week, much to your confusion.

hOLY SHIT BRO THIS IS SO FUCKIN DELICIOUS IM. i am sweATING AT WORK IM AGDKDHJE yOU HAVE BLESSED THE INBOX IM. gOd the thought of adrian just loosing it over you fuCk this is sinful and immaculate

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 || dark!Bucky Barnes & dark!Steve Rogers x reader

summary: a little fresh air never hurt anyone, right?

word count: 10.3k (yes, OVER TEN THOUSAND WORDS OF FILTH what is wrong with me)

warnings: noncon smut (incl. anal, oral m and f receiving, dp, and spitroasting), bondage/restraint (and a gag), some mild violence, lots of slapping, pussy spanking, forced orgasms, degradation/derogatory language, kinda kidnapping, a touch of stockholm syndrome?, very brief breeding kink, period-typical sexism (this is set in the late 60s but you wouldn't really be able to tell aside from that and the lack of technology)

a/n: the song that plays on the radio, and the song that just so happens to be the title of the fic, is by john lee hooker in case anyone wants the proverbial vibes

You needed a chance to clear your head every once in a while, that's what camping in the woods was for.  It was the perfect time of year for it, too; the leaves were changing, the woodland animals were beginning to prepare for hibernation, and the weather was almost warm with a refreshing breeze that promised to bring the winter chill soon enough.

It was far from your first time in these woods, you knew the drive like the back of your hand by now, just as well as you knew how to hike down to the best places to set up camp.  

You set down your pack and took in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air.  No sounds except for the wind in the trees, the trickle of the creek, and your own thoughts which you found pleasantly blank.  You'd chosen a spot by the creek, where you could spearfish on evenings that you felt especially adventurous, with a nice dirt patch perfect for a fire.  The most dangerous thing about camping in the fall was that the dry leaves could catch flame so easily, so one of the key stages of setting up camp was raking away any foliage from your firepit, lest it become unintentional kindling.

The next order of business was finding a few dozen smooth stones to surround the fire, along with some logs and sticks to burn.  

A knife and flint was just enough to speed up your firebuilding so that you had something solid going by nightfall, shedding your jacket to better feel the warmth as the flames grew and the sun set.

Sure, the woods could feel a little… creepy, at night, for lack of a better word, but it was more tranquil than anything.  Most of the wildlife that was so active during the day stilled and silenced, bar the occasional owl’s hoot, so the loudest sounds were the crackling of your fire and the ever-present trickle of the creek.  You heated your kettle for a cup of chamomile tea, something to help you get to sleep on the admittedly uncomfortable sleeping bag in your canvas tent.

The mug warmed your fingers as you filled and held it, and the steam warmed your face as you took a sip; but the contents warmed your chest, and your soul, as you contemplated the flavors; is it possible that tea tastes better when enjoyed in the quiet woods, mid-autumn?

You were already yawning by the time the mug was finished, so you set it aside and crawled into your tent, shedding the excessive layers and slipping between the fluffy down-stuffed layers of your bedroll.  It was chilly at first but you knew your body heat would make it toasty all too soon, so you ignored the way you shivered as you fluffed your pillow and laid it under your head.

It was dark with only the fading light of your fire seeping in through the thick-weave canvas; and it was quiet, being the middle of the forest and all.  One sound you didn’t expect were distant sirens, barely audible, which made you wonder if something had happened, but you couldn't know what so you didn't pay it much mind as you drifted to sleep.

The next morning came early, of course; as early as the sun rose, warm sunlight flooding through the canvas of your tent.

You enjoyed staying in the bed for a while, not so much because it was very comfortable (it wasn’t) but just because you wanted to relish having no need to get up yet.  No job, no cleaning, no chores… though you were pretty hungry so that inspired you to get up and see about breakfast.

Slipping on a few more layers to protect yourself from the morning breeze, you opened your tent and stepped out into the woods, finding your fire had been reduced to a pile of embers meaning that you would need to find more wood to get it going for breakfast-cooking purposes.  And that’s what you were about to do when you heard a snapping of twigs echo through the woods, making you glance up to the source of the noise.

Your back straightened instantly at the sight of two men, one with short blonde hair and the other’s dark and nearly to his shoulders, walking down the hill nearby just across the creek.  They were still pretty distant, and yet they were much too close for comfort; close enough to see that these were not men one would want to encounter while alone in the woods.

They had new clothes— baggy and loose, almost certainly stolen— but it wasn’t enough to hide where they must’ve come from.  They might as well have still been in jumpsuits with numbers on their chests.

The prison, just over five miles away.  Had they really hiked this far?  You kicked yourself now for ignoring the sirens last night.

You froze as they turned and caught your gaze, the three of you locked in a stare for a brief moment before one of them took a step forward: that was all the cause you needed to run like hell, turning on your heel and starting so fast you nearly slipped on the leaves beneath you.  You heard them call out, chasing after you, but you focused on staring ahead and trying to remember the path back home, or at least to the road where someone might drive by to help you.

A root nearly caught your foot but you kept running, hating that you could hear them gaining on you since it didn’t actually seem to help you run any faster.  You looked back and saw them much too close for comfort, but when you looked back ahead it was too late to avoid the tree right in front of you; you swerved but it still made you slip and almost fall.

But you didn’t fall.  Someone caught you, and grabbed you, and pulled you into his oppressive form.

His arms held you painfully tight as his hand covered your mouth.  "Gotcha," the man growled against your ear, licking the shell of it as you struggled against his grip.  

Everything everyone had told you about why a lady shouldn’t camp alone in the woods suddenly flashed in your mind, your eyes squinting shut as you wished you had listened.  All you could do now was kick wildly, swinging your legs in the air which didn't even do anything.

"Pretty little thing, aren't ya?” he purred as you saw the second man come into view— the blonde one, so you knew it was the one with long, dark hair that must’ve been holding you, giving you such a twisted compliment.  “Just beggin' to be fucked right."

"Don't look so scared, sweetheart, we're not gonna hurt you…” the blonde man explained, “just play nice and we will too."

"Speak for yourself, Rogers," the man holding you snarled.  "Been a long time since I got to feel a pussy, I wanna tear this little bitch up."

You sobbed and writhed as the one apparently called Rogers hushed you soothingly, trying to calm you.  "Hey, just do what we say and it won't hurt alright?  Just take it easy."

He stepped closer, reaching out towards you while you grunted and whined with every kick, smiling in a way that would’ve been soothing in nearly any other situation.  He motioned to his partner who slowly lowered his hand from your mouth, and though your instinct was to scream you just heard yourself panting and whimpering instead.

“Did you hear me?  We’re not gonna hurt you.  We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet… I’m Steve, and this here is my cellmate— uh, friend— Barnes.”

“But you can call me Bucky, dollface,” the man behind you added with a little smile that you could hear and feel with him pressing up so close to your face.

“See, he and I just came from an awful, terrible place—”

“I know where you came from,” you cut him off with a snarl.  “You’re criminals!  You’re scum!”

Bucky just laughed and held you tighter until your arms started to ache from struggling against him.  

“Hey now, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve corrected firmly— not angry, but stern.  “I was framed, I served seven years for something I didn’t do.  You’re innocent, too, right Barnes?”

“No,” he instantly answered, making Steve look disappointed.  “Oh, uh, sure.  Yeah, I was framed.  Real sob story,” he suddenly decided, not sounding like he was trying that hard to convince you.

“Point is, we were all alone for a long, long time, and we thought maybe you’d wanna be nice and take care of us, huh?” Steve offered.

“Fuck you,” you hissed.

“That’s sort of the idea,” Bucky whispered playfully.

“Let me go,” you demanded as Steve’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, anger finally coming out when he suddenly grabbed your chin and held your face to look up at him.

“Let me make one thing very fucking clear,” he explained, nearly whispering so you were forced to stay still and quiet to hear him.  “You don’t get to pick what you want.  But you get to pick if you’re gonna make this easy, or difficult.”

You spat in his face; he slapped you for that, so hard that your ears rang for a moment while he grimaced and wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Difficult it is,” he announced with ill-restrained loathing, coming even closer as Bucky covered your mouth again to muffle your screams of protest.  “Buck, I’m goin’ first.”

“Fuck you, pal, I was in longer and I saw her first,” Bucky replied frustratedly.  “I’m not gonna take long anyway, you can go after me.”

“I just got spit in my face!” Steve reminded him.  “And the breakout was my idea!”

“Your idea?!” Bucky repeated incredulously.  “What, you think you’re the first guy to think ‘hey, what if we just left prison?’ because trust me, if it wasn’t for my screwdriver—”

Their argument caused Bucky’s focus to slip, that must have been why the hand on your mouth loosened and you could speak again.

"You won't get away with this, my father's a sheriff!" you yelped, interrupting their negotiation.

They both laughed darkly and you instantly regretted saying it.

"Oh, sweetheart, your old man's a cop?  That's too bad,” Steve sighed.  “You know what they say: sins of the father…"

"Fuck the daughter,” Bucky finished with a cold, hollow laugh as he suddenly bit down on your ear making you wince and shudder, tears streaming down your cheeks already.

He tossed you down and pinned you to the ground, his strong, heavy body on top of yours knocking the wind out of you as he began to tear at your clothes and, annoyingly, not seeming to find them much trouble at all.  You whimpered when you felt your pants torn down your legs, hating how exposed and vulnerable you felt, hating the undeniable fact that you couldn’t stop this.

You tried to get up when he reached down to open his belt and jeans, but Steve’s boot came down on your shoulder and held you still again.  Bucky was rushed and brutal as he pushed his pants down and pressed his cock against your ass, guiding it between your legs as you hissed and tried not to think about what was about to happen.

He pulled back briefly to spit on your hole, spreading the forced wetness with the head of his cock before suddenly pushing into you as you gasped and choked on a sob.

"Oh, that's it baby,” he groaned, “scream if you want, nobody can hear you but us."

Already he was thrusting with wild abandon, his hips slapping into your ass as his hot breath came down against your ear and neck, his face pressing yours into the cold ground.

"Fuuuuuck,” he moaned lowly, “so tight, Jesus Christ… fuckin' missed this, went almost ten years without burying my cock in a wet little cunt like this.  Shit, it's even better than I remember."

You just cried and bit down on nothing, pain making violent shivers run up your spine as the width of him split you open, pushing deeper than you’d known anything could go.

Each thrust seemed somehow rougher and deeper than the last, pushing you further past your limits, making your toes curl inside your boots.  He was unabashedly using your body, treating you with less care than some men might a blow-up doll, moaning loudly as he split you open with every moment.

So why did it almost begin to feel good, now that the worst of the pain had faded?  Why was the ridge of his cock brushing over your g-spot just right each time he moved?

He pinned more of his weight on you as he changed his angle slightly, enough to add just that much more brutality to every stroke, the loud slapping of skin echoing through the desolate trees.  You could tell he wasn’t lying about how long he’d been celibate in prison, because he fucked you with every ounce of pent-up frustration, hissing through his teeth and holding you tight enough to bruise.

Everything he did, he did enough to bruise.

“Yeah, take it, bitch,” he moaned when you made a particularly pained noise.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna take long,” Steve remembered, staring down at the two of you from where he was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.  

“I’m almost done, you waited this long you can wait five more minutes,” Bucky dismissed, voice a little strained as he kept fucking you.

“Just stop and give me a turn and then you can get back to it,” Steve suggested.

“Nah, no fuckin’ way,” Bucky laughed, “feels way too good to stop.  Trust me, Stevie, this pussy’s worth the wait.”

“Get her on her knees then,” Steve instructed as he came closer to you and kneeled in front of your face; Bucky manhandled your hips into place while Steve pulled your hair until you yelped and brought your head up.  “I wanna fuck this pretty little throat.”

He cut off your protests with another hard slap to your cheek, tugging your hair again as you struggled to hold yourself up on shaking arms.

“Gonna teach this mouthy bitch a lesson,” he explained as he hit you again before using one hand to open his belt and jeans.  “You know what’s gonna happen if you try to bite me, right?  I’ll just knock you out and fuck your throat anyways.  So you’d better make it good if you wanna breathe.”

You tried your best to nod with his fist tugging your hair, gasping slightly when he pulled his cock out and stroked it right in front of your face.  

“Come on, baby, open up— this is the most you’ve kept your mouth shut all day,” he laughed, tapping the swollen head of his cock on your lips until you finally opened them.  The flavor of his skin on your tongue made your lips curl in disgust but he held your jaw and pushed deeper, quickly hitting the back of your throat.  “Fuck, so warm… come on, suck it, make it good for me.”

“She’s gettin’ wet,” Bucky informed Steve with a chuckle.  “She likes it— don’t you, little whore?” he prompted as he slapped your ass suddenly, making you cry out around Steve’s length.  “You like choking on a cock like you deserve?”

You made some sort of gurgling sound, and apparently they took it as a ‘yes.’

"Aw yeah, fuck, gonna fill up this little cunt,” Bucky promised.  Funny thing is, you weren't sure if "this little cunt" meant your hole, or you.

“You’d better not, m’supposed to go after you,” Steve reminded him.

“Fuck, I dunno if I have the heart to pull out,” Bucky admitted with a laugh, slapping you on the ass to make your walls suddenly clench around him.  “I know a sweet body like this just needs to be bred.”

Your sob was louder around where Steve’s girth stretched your lips, making Bucky laugh darkly.

"Oh shit honey, what would Daddy Sherriff say if he found out you got knocked up by a couple'a criminals, huh?  By murderers?"

Steve pulled his cock out just enough to let you sob weakly before shoving back in and penetrating your throat.

"Yeah, you like it don't you?” Bucky continued to taunt you.  “You like being bred by some strangers who caught you in the woods… dirty bitch."

Steve's head fell back as he started to thrust into your mouth faster and harder, the base of his cock flexing against your tongue.  You assumed it was a sign that he was close and it made you hopeful that this would be over soon, but he suddenly pulled out with an exhausted laugh.

"Oh no you don't," he breathed, "not gonna come yet, still need to feel that tight little pussy of yours… if Bucky would hurry the fuck up."

"Fuck, I'm close, I'm close," Bucky rasped.  "Shit, babydoll, this wet cunt is gonna make me come, aren't you so proud?"

Steve held your mouth open and rubbed his cock on your tongue, occasionally shoving two fingers in with it which were salty with his sweat. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck," Bucky hissed, "oh god, fuck, I'm—!"

He pulled out suddenly, rubbing his cock against your clit as his seed shot onto the ground beneath you.  You sighed with relief although you hated the way your body was actually disappointed, craving more and clenching around nothing in protest.

Bucky was hardly even finished when Steve reached under your arms to pull you up and flip you onto your back, groaning as he settled between your legs and rubbed his cock over your folds.  He didn't waste any time pushing into you, and apparently being fucked by Bucky wasn't enough to warm you up for Steve because you hissed at the sting as he filled you.

"Fuck," Steve mumbled as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down beside your head.  Already he had begun to pull back only to spear into you again, reaching deeper inside you than Bucky had until you were gasping and choking on nothing.

Bucky stood up and stepped back, pulling his jeans up as he watched you two on the ground.

"You got any cigarettes back at camp, sweetheart?" Bucky asked you, and it was hard to focus on his question but you shook your head.  "Damn," he breathed, pondering for a moment before coming up with his next question.  "You got any candy bars?"

"Do you mind?" Steve hissed, still thrusting into you— a bit slower than Bucky but not exactly more gentle.  "We're kind of busy here."

"No, I don't particularly mind," Bucky smirked.

"Can't you just entertain yourself for a few minutes while I finish this?"

"Why should I entertain myself when I've got this pretty little thing to entertain me?" Bucky smirked, kneeling down beside you as Steve buried his face in the crook of your neck.  "Wanna help me out here, dollface?  I'm still hard…"

He freed one hand from Steve's grip and brought it up to the front of his jeans so you could feel the hard bulge there.  He opened them for you, reaching in and pulling his hard cock out to wrap your hand around it.

Feeling the thickness of it in your palm now, you couldn't imagine how it ever fit inside you.

"Yeah, that's it, I'll teach you how to stroke it right…" he groaned.  "You know how many times I had to do this to myself, just imagining claiming a little slut like you?  Your hands are so much softer, sweetheart…"

His hand tightened around yours and guided every movement, which was good because you had no chance of focusing on anything while Steve was slamming into you and moaning right by your ear.

"So wet," he whispered to you, "so warm.  All mine…"

You felt your insides grip him harder and he smiled, lips tickling your sensitive skin.

"Yeah, you like bein' mine.  You like being owned, I can feel it.  I can feel that this is exactly what you needed.  Is that what you were hoping for when you came out to these woods all by yourself?  That a big strong man would show up and stretch out this pussy?  Well I'm here now, angel, and I'm just about ready to fill you up real good."

A few more thrusts, faster and harder than ever, were enough to send Steve over the edge as you felt each pulse warm you from the inside out.  Steve groaned loudly and buried himself as deep as he could possibly go, painting his come right onto your cervix while you gasped at the sensation.

Bucky stopped moving your hand and looked down at Steve.  "Are you fucking serious— did you just come inside?"

Steve took a moment to catch his breath before answering: "duh."

"How come you get to come inside but I don't, huh?"

"Cause I went second!"

"Yeah, that's some bullshit," Bucky scoffed.

"Will you just leave now, please?" you whimpered weakly from the ground.  "You got what you wanted, now just go."

"Oh, sweetheart, we are nowhere near done with you," Steve promised, sighing as he pulled out of you slowly.

You wanted to try to get up, but your limbs were weak and numb, and your head heavy with confusion.  It made it easy for Bucky to scoop you up and carry you back the way you'd run, your tent quickly coming into view which made you realize how pitifully short your chase had been.

“Looks big enough for the three of us,” Steve noted as he tilted his head to look at your camp.

“We’re not going in yet, I think somebody needs a little creek bath first,” Bucky smiled as he started to set you down on your shaky legs.  “Go ahead and strip, doll.”

You shivered, considering resistance but deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble as you started to peel off your shirt and jacket, then your boots and slightly torn leggings.

They both smiled and watched you, Bucky snorted a little when he saw how hard your nipples were.  “It’s chilly,” you defended meekly.

“Sure it is,” he nodded, “don’t stop, get in the water when you’re done.”

You nodded slightly as you tossed the clothes aside, trying to cover yourself with your arms as you slowly walked into the stony creek, wishing the water weren’t so clear so it would cover you better.

You made a weak attempt to clean yourself, watching goosebumps cover your skin from the cool water.

"Wash yourself up good,” Bucky instructed firmly.  “I don't want any of Rogers' jizz still in you when I take that pussy again."

With a grimace, you washed between your legs and winced when your touch reawakened the sting of soreness there.

“You’re gonna have to push it out, honey, it’s real deep,” Steve grinned pridefully.

You did your best to clean up, not for Bucky’s benefit but for your own, because you hated how it felt to have Steve’s spend still within you.

“How am I supposed to dry off?” you asked nervously as you looked around, knowing you hadn’t brought a towel as you hadn’t really planned on a full creek bath during your trip.  You hadn’t planned on any of this during your trip, shockingly enough.

“You can drip dry,” Steve suggested.

“So you want me to stand naked in the cold for an hour while I dry?” you realized, irritated but still scared.

“Something like that,” Bucky confirmed.  “Unless you want us to keep you warm…”

“I’ll freeze,” you decided, stepping out of the water as Bucky snatched your clothes away to make sure you couldn’t dress.  “Gimme those!”

“Come and get ‘em,” he challenged, leaving you to huff and cross your arms, teeth chattering as the wind picked up.

You couldn’t imagine why they cared so much about testing your will when they’d already proven that they could take you however they wanted.  Perhaps it was just that they wanted to know you’d accepted that.  Better yet, they probably hoped you would participate willingly if you understood that you never had a choice.

Closing your eyes didn’t help, you could still feel their hungry gaze on you; rubbing yourself with your hands didn’t help because it just spread the cold water around on your skin, rather than actually warming you up.

It was probably less than a minute but it felt like half an hour before you relented, walking up to Bucky and looking down to avoid his stare as you meekly requested, “can I have my clothes, please?”

“But I can think of so many better ways to keep you warm,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, Steve moving behind you to press his chest against your back.  You sighed with relief because even this was already making you feel better,  the warmth of their bodies taking out some of the chill while their size blocked you from the wind.  You mewled, ever so quietly, when you felt Bucky’s lips on your neck, your eyes falling shut as your head fell back onto Steve’s chest.  

They showered you in gentle touches and teasing kisses as they picked you up and carried you into your tent, the small space beginning to warm quickly with the heat of three people inside— or was it just you that was getting hot from what they were doing to you.

Steve was groping your tits and pinching your hardened nipples, while Bucky focused most on sucking your neck or biting just beneath your ear.  It was overwhelming, and impossible to ignore though you wanted so desperately not to be aroused.  There were only four hands exploring your body but it might as well have been a hundred because you couldn’t tell the difference, they were touching you everywhere all at once.

"Now, are you gonna behave or do we need to tie you up?" Steve asked quietly.

You shook your head wildly, tensing up just imagining that.  "Then say it," he instructed.

"I-I'll be good," you promised weakly.

Bucky grinned and slid his hand up your thigh, and though you didn’t mean to, when Bucky reached between your legs you tried to shut them and squirm away, it was instinct.

"Ah ah ah," Steve tutted.  "You said you'd be good."

"Think we oughta tie her up," Bucky nodded, feigning disappointment.

"No, please, I'm sorry—"

"Too late for sorry, dollface," Bucky smirked, grabbing a shirt from your pack and tearing it into strips like it was no effort at all.  

Steve held your wrists together for Bucky to tie, and they even tied your legs up bent and spread wide, finishing it off with a gag in your mouth.

Now you were helpless to Bucky pinching your clit, circling it with his thick and calloused finger, applying pressure to it until your eyes watered.  At first it was exploratory, delicate, but once he’d found the most sensitive places he began to rub your clit hard and fast, laughing every time you moaned and flicking the sensitive bud to make your body jolt.

"Yeah, this little cunt's getting all wet, y'like having your pussy played with?" he smirked.

He accentuated his question with a few sudden spanks to your clit that made you jerk and yelp.  The worst thing was that each slap made a wet sound that made you sure you were soaking by now.

“I know you want it so bad, don’t worry doll, I’m not gonna make you wait anymore…”

He caged you in and opened his jeans one more time, the process going much more quickly since he didn’t have to hold you down— you could squirm and cry, but that was about it.  

With a little grunt, he pushed into you, and with how wet you were it actually went it much more easily.  It was by no means painless though, especially since he was already moving and giving you no time to adjust.

"Yeah, that's better," he sighed, grinning as he watched you whine into the gag.  "Now I can really take my time with you, show you how good I can make you feel."

He was certainly more relaxed than the first time, his pace measured and calculated as he made sure his hips met with yours fully at the end of each stroke.  His width wasn’t as challenging in this position but his length certainly was, bumping into your sore and delicate cervix until you were forced to bite down onto the gag to cope.

But, in spite of the pain, or perhaps because of it, something deep and strong was forming inside you, tightening and twisting until it took all your effort not to let it spill forth.

He reached down and roughly rubbed your clit again, forcing a muffled scream from your throat as he grinned down at you.  “Close already, huh?  Good to know I haven’t lost my touch after all these years.”

You almost heard Steve scoff beside you, but it was hard to hear anything when your ears felt like they were full of cotton, only your own echoing heartbeat ringing louder than anything else.

"Yeah, I wanna feel you fuckin' come,” Bucky growled.  “Bet you get even tighter every time."

As much as you wished not to, you fell over the edge, back arching until your chest bumped into Bucky’s where he hovered above you.  He coaxed you along in his words and movements, your walls clenching in a nonsensical rhythm.  More than anything you just wished he would stop moving so you could catch your breath, but his pace never faltered and it felt like you’d never stop coming if he never stopped fucking you.

“That’s it, good fucking girl,” he groaned, “makin’ you feel so good, aren’t I?  Answer me.”

You hesitated, and sniffled, but finally nodded.

Even worse, your clit was so swollen now that he didn’t even need to rub it with his thumb anymore; his cock rubbed against it with each movement, the ridges of his shaft massaging you there until it felt like every part of your body had become the most sensitive place possible.  You shook violently beneath him, each wave of pleasure stronger than the last until you felt like you had lost all sense of time, and space, and really anything that wasn’t being fucked in this tent like the fate of the world depended on it.

"Get outta the tent, Steve,” Bucky instructed suddenly.

"Why?" Steve protested with a scoff.

"I can't come with you starin' at me!"

"I'm not looking at you, dumbass,” he sneered, “I'm lookin’ at her.  So pretty when she cries…"

"Whatever, either way, just go outside please?" 

Clearly irritated but relenting anyways, Steve grunted under his breath as he got up, stepping unceremoniously over both of you.  Bucky sighed with relief when Steve zipped the tent flap shut behind him, turning his attention back to you.  “That’s better, isn’t it?  Just me and you… way it oughta be.”

“I heard that!” Steve called from outside.

“Then stop listening!” Bucky suggested through his teeth before leaning down to whisper in your ear, holding your hips tight so he could fuck you harder than ever.  "I don't give a fuck what he says, I'm coming in you this time.  Not pulling out until I know every drop is in you, wanna see this pussy stuffed to the brim with my come… you want it too, huh?”

Another electrifying pulse inside you made your channel flutter around him, and how cruel that the moan he made actually turned you on more.

"Fuck, that's it, squeeze my fuckin' dick, honey.  Wanna milk all the come outta my cock, don't you?"

You nodded again, hearing him moan in that perfect way one more time before you started to feel him pulse and swell within you, streams of hot come pouring into you.  The amount was pretty impressive since he’d already come once, although you didn’t exactly feel ‘impressed,’ so much as horrified and confused.  And numb, from coming so many times.

Bucky smiled down at you with an exhausted sigh, smacking you lightly on the face a few times to try to rouse you from your blissed-out state, but all you could do was hum sleepily into the gag.

“M’gonna untie you now, you’re too out of it to try anything,” he explained, releasing the gag first before working on your wrists and your legs.  A rush of warm come oozed out of your abused hole when he pulled back, making your face heat up as he smiled and held your legs up to see it better.  “Yeah, filled you up real nice,” he informed you.  He gave a reassuring pat to your thigh before getting up and getting out of the tent, leaving you to stare blankly into nothingness for a while.

Eventually, you knew you had to face the world again, though you were more sure than ever that you weren’t prepared for it.  Grabbing a blanket from the floor of the tent and covering yourself with it, you took a slow breath to try to stabilize yourself.

For how slow time seemed to have passed so far, you were surprised to see the sun setting when you opened the tent flap and stepped outside.  You realized, with a sick feeling in your chest, that they had been using you nearly all day now.  And considering they were waiting for you around the fire, giving you a glance up and down as you emerged from the tent, they still might not stop for a while.

In fact, they’d made themselves very comfortable from the looks of it.  The fire was burning stronger than ever, three logs positioned around the sides of the firepit to sit on; a pot was over the fire, and you recognized the contents as some of the food supplies from your pack.  Best of all, Steve had found your battery radio and adjusted the station, blues quietly playing from the speaker as he used your hunting knife to whittle a stick.

Serves you right to suffer, the smooth voice crooned from the broadcast, serves you right to be alone...

For a moment, the three of you sat in silence as you took in the scene.  But when the wind changed and the heat of the fire no longer reached you, you remembered you had business to attend to.  

“C-Can I have my clothes back now?” you asked Bucky quietly, seeing them draped over the side of one of the logs.

“I think if you get dressed you’ll try to run again,” Steve mumbled, not even looking up at you.

“No, I won’t, I’m too tired,” you explained.  “I just don’t want to be cold.”

“Fire’s hot enough,” Bucky dismissed.  “Why don’t you just lay down a while, hm?  Get some rest.  You earned it.”

You weren’t just tired physically, but mentally, which is partly why you didn’t put up more of a fight before going over to the log and laying beside it, the blanket around you protecting you from the cold ground while you used your clothes as a sort of pillow on the log.

It couldn’t have been that you were asleep, because you could still hear the fire and the radio and Steve’s whittling (a constant reminder that he had a knife), but with your eyes closed and the darkness getting darker it was almost like sleep.  A draining, restless sleep that did nothing to shelter you from the memories of what you’d become.

So, you opened your eyes, staring into the flames instead and venturing the occasional glance at Bucky or Steve; the former always met your stare, the latter would only look up if a sound got his attention.

“You gonna take a turn?” Bucky asked Steve casually, motioning to you by cocking his head.

“Not yet, need a while to... you know, build up some energy,” Steve explained.

“Mind if I have another go then?”

“She’s all yours,” Steve approved, making Bucky grin as he got up and circled the log you were slumped over.  

“Y’hear that, dollface?  All mine,” he cooed, picking you up and adjusting you until you were bent over the log, facing Steve and the fire.  Your clothes kept your naked torso from rubbing against the bark, thankfully, but nothing could spare you from Bucky’s incessant touch, running up your back, over your butt which he spanked a few times for good measure, and finally to your entrance which he pushed two fingers into first.  “Mm, we stretched you out pretty good… you’ll be back in shape by the mornin’, but until then, I just slide right in…”

And he proved himself right with one long stroke that pushed his cock to the deepest parts of you, pushing your hips forward into the log as you tried your best to keep your breathing steady.

He was uniquely quiet this time, still moaning and grunting occasionally but otherwise sparing you from the constant taunts and filthy whispers.  Steve, meanwhile, was doing his best to look unaffected, but the subtle adjustment of his legs along with the increased vigor of his carving made it clear he was distracted by the sight in front of him.

Bucky’s strong hands on your hips were sure to leave marks, fingertips digging into your curves and pulling you back onto him, spearing you on his length.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he sighed, “gonna come.”

And it was actually a relief because this was going to end (for now), which was definitely the only reason you moaned in response.  He got more talkative after that, smacking you on the ass a few more times as he chuckled darkly behind you. 

“Fuck, take it, doll… take all my fuckin’ come.”

It was sort of a meaningless instruction, since you had to, but he seemed to enjoy reminding you that he was about to take his pleasure from your body one more time.  He made a weak little moaning noise, almost pained, as he filled you once again, slumping down on top of you and for the first time really showing signs of exhaustion after coming three times in a day.  You were so out of it that you hardly noticed his weight on you, or the little kisses he gave to your ear, whispering praises that tried your best not to hear.  

He pulled out and came back around to look at your face again, pulling you up slightly by your hair so you looked up at him.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned.  “Open your mouth sweetheart,” he instructed, spitting onto your tongue as soon as you’d done it, then lifting your jaw to make you close your mouth and swallow.

He tugged your hair harder before he kissed you, more possessive than affectionate, but unexpected regardless.  His tongue tangled with yours as he reached down to circle his hand around your neck, feeling your pulse but not going so far as to choke you.

A little groan from Steve caught both his attention and yours.  "You wanna fuck her, Stevie?"

"Oh god, I want that ass, I want that fuckin ass," he answered through his teeth, making you gulp as Bucky laughed.

"Go for it, man," he encouraged, and only a second after he stood up you both heard and felt Steve appear behind you, one calloused hand spreading your cheeks; you whimpered from embarrassment when you felt a finger circle your tight rim, before slowly pushing in.

"Fuck," you whispered, and it sounded much more like a curse of pleasure than you intended.

"Yeah, you want it don't you?" he asked through his teeth, giving you a hard spank that made you cry out.  Bucky slapped you when you didn't answer, grabbing your jaw roughly.

"He asked you a question," he reminded you firmly, the sound of Steve spitting into his hand and coating your hole and his length distracting you slightly.

"Yes, yes, I want it!" you sobbed.

"Where?"

"In my ass!"

Your body put up significant resistance against his swollen head, but it was no match for his rough thrust forward, the tip of him popping inside and stretching you painfully.  You bit your lip but it was impossible to stay quiet when he slid the rest of the way in.

You cried out as he moaned with satisfaction, already moving so much faster than you could handle (which, to be fair, was a low bar).

"Oh my god," he breathed.  "So fuckin' tight…"

The pain was sharp, and it felt like the base of his cock was impossibly thicker than the rest of him since you whined every time he pushed in.

"Aw, does it hurt baby?  That's my cock ruining your little hole, sweetheart…"

"Stop," you rasped, "please… please stop…"

"Nah, I think you like it… I think what you really needed was just to be put in your place, fucked in every hole so you know exactly what you're meant for."

Bucky appeared in front of you again, stroking himself in front of your face, still slick from behind inside you.

"See what a mess you made on my cock, dollface?  I think you need to help me clean it up," he groaned, holding your jaw open to stuff his cock into your mouth and stifle your sobs.  The taste of your and his come was potent and musky on your tongue, his head pushing right into your open throat when you tried to gag.

Steve held you tighter as he thrusted a bit more vigorously, Bucky simultaneously using your throat as he stroked your hair and cheek.  

You couldn’t remember how to do anything but just take it now.  At times their paces synchronized and you felt like you were being filled to the brim at both ends.  Other times they were in a syncopation where one pushed in just as the other pulled out, meaning you had no real breaks at all.

Bucky was too weak to come again, that much was obvious, but he was happy to choke you anyways; and Steve, well, Steve was moaning more now than he had from your mouth or pussy, apparently trying to hold himself back even though he had no reason to try to prolong this— unless he actually wanted to see you in pain more than he wanted to finish?

“You want me to come in your ass?” Steve interrogated you with a spank to your thigh.  “Beg for it.”

You shook your head around the length in your mouth.

“It doesn’t stop until you beg me for it, isn’t that what you want?  You want it to stop, right?”

Had you really fallen into his trap that easily?  

Bucky pulled back to give you the opportunity to meet Steve’s request, and you sucked in a lungful of air before finally whimpering: “Please, Steve… please come…”

“Where?” he pressed, ever-determined to make you remind him where he was fucking you.

“Please come in my ass…”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” he snickered before starting to thrust faster and more erratically, chasing his peak which you prayed was close.  It was, thankfully, though never close enough, and you forgot that the swell of his pulsating cock would stretch your tired hole even wider.

And, you forgot that he had no reason to pull out just because he’d come.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “that was good.”

You tried to kick him away but it was impossible with how hard he’d pinned you down to the log.

“Just stay still and keep my cock warm in this pretty ass of yours, alright?” he instructed, all the while Bucky stared down at you with a satisfied smirk on his face, combing your hair a bit with his fingers.

“You’re tired, huh?” he noticed.  “We’ll get you to bed soon.”

“Will you leave?” you instantly returned.

“We need somewhere to make camp for the night, too.  And since there’s already a perfectly good camp right here…”

“No,” you whined, “no, you’re never gonna leave me alone, are you?”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, alright?” he offered.

//

It was truly a testament to how physically exhausted you were that you managed to fall asleep squished between your two personal monsters.

Bucky was behind you, essentially spooning you while Steve had an arm draped over your chest.  And even with the heavy weight on you, physical and metaphysical, you would’ve slept through the night easily if it weren’t for the feeling of Steve running his hands over your body, groping you wherever he could reach.

You opened your eyes but it was still pitch darkness, giving you no distraction from the physical sensations of Steve's fingers delicately grazing over your skin.  Behind you, the quiet stability of Bucky’s breathing made it clear he was still asleep and unaware.

“Steve,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Shh,” he soothed below his breath, right by your ear.  “He sleeps like a rock, we’re not gonna wake him up with a little fooling around.”  

Amazingly enough, that wasn’t exactly what you were worried about.  But you discontinued your dissent as he lightly suckled the lobe of your ear, fingers tracing abstract shapes over your hip.  You heard your own breath catch, and he must have too because he smiled and nibbled on your neck.

You shivered when he started to pull you closer, laying you back to reach between your legs and toy with your overly-sensitive folds.  His fingers found your clit and rubbed it in slow circles, making you writhe and jolt as shocks of pleasure shot through you.

“So sensitive,” he praised darkly, pushing against you harder.  “Gettin’ wet, honey?  Want you dripping before I put my cock in you.”

Bucky stirred beside you, pulling you closer in his sleep though Steve kept a strong hold on your lower half.  It was nearly claustrophobic being sandwiched between them like this, made even worse when Steve adjusted your hips and you felt his cock rub against you.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered in your ear, cradling your face in his large, rough hands.

“I— I want it,” you whispered back, biting your lip to stay quiet when he pushed in.  You were still sore, but the wetness helped ease his way as he filled you to the brim, groaning softly and thrusting much more gently than you expected.  It was all very relaxed, and languid, and… sleepy.  It was so much easier to pretend that you wanted this when it was gentle and patient like this, when you couldn’t see his face

“You two got started without me?” Bucky interjected, making you both gasp.   

"You seemed pretty busy snoring over there," Steve explained with an unamused tone.  “You know, Barnes, I actually broke out of prison so I wouldn’t have to sleep in the same room as you for the rest of my life.”

“Leave if you want, Rogers, I’ll keep the girl and you can take her battery radio, ya limpdick.”

“Limpdick?  Were you not here for the past twenty-four hours?” 

“Yeah, I was fucking this sweet little thing while you were out there by the fire doing your arts and crafts.”

And just like that, your sweet and gentle sex was gone; Steve was determined to claim you now, fucking you harder and faster until you couldn’t hold back your broken moans.  "Yeah, you like that?" he growled against your ear.  "You like gettin' fucked?  Say it."

"Y-yes, I like it," you gasped.

"We're gonna be on the run for a while…" Bucky mumbled against your skin as he kissed your shoulder, "sure wouldn't mind takin' you with us, keeping our own little pet to fuck whenever we want."

You tried not to stop breathing entirely when he said that, distracted by Steve slowing down slightly, offering some reprieve.

"Been so long without touchin' a woman," Steve added huskily, "I don't know if one day is enough."

"Yeah, plus we've already got you obedient, trained, fucked braindead and full of come," Bucky replied, biting down on your skin to make you whimper and he chuckled happily.

"Are you sure you can share, Barnes?" Steve pressed.  "I know if you had it your way she'd be ripped to shreds by now."

"Whatever man, you're the one who tore her ass up."

Steve scoffed slightly, while Bucky continued.

"You wanna come with us sweetheart?  We'll be real good to you, keep your holes wet and full for a couple months straight at least.  You won't have to worry about a thing, won't have to lift a finger, just keep your legs spread and you'll be peachy."

"Hey, that's what we'll call you: Peach," Steve decided.  "It's perfect, isn't it?  'Cause you're sweet… and soft… and I could just eat you up," he purred.

"Wanna be our girl, Peach?" Bucky prompted.

"No, please…"

You expected anger, you expected them to hurt you, but you didn't expect them to laugh.  "Looks like our sweet little Peach hasn't had a chance to realize how good it's gonna be with us," Steve announced.  

"Yeah, let's show her how much she wants to be our girl," Bucky snickered, holding your hips as Steve started to move inside you again.

Bucky, meanwhile, was grabbing handfuls of your ass and groaning as he rubbed his cock against you.  One finger explored your rim and slowly pushed in.

"Looks like you're still a little loosened up from when Stevie here gave it to you, huh?  He was real mean, wasn't he?"

You nodded, clutching harder into Steve's chest as he fucked you faster.

"Then taking me should be a breeze."

Truly, you had no idea how this was possible.  I'm the dark it all felt like a fever dream, but when Bucky pushed into your available opening while Steve was still fucking you… it was definitely real, the feeling was too overwhelming not to be.

'A breeze' was definitely an exaggeration but it was undeniably easier, especially since being half-asleep made your body so much more relaxed.  You still hissed when Bucky's hips met your ass, you still choked on a breath at the feeling of two cocks buried all the way inside you, but it wasn't from pain as much as being full beyond your wildest dreams

"You were right about this ass, Rogers, goddamn…" Bucky moaned, holding your hips tight and beginning to thrust.

"Fuck, can hardly believe you're takin' both of us," Steve sighed against your ear.  "I know you love it, Peach, I know you love bein' so full…"

Your lips fumbled with the desire to moan a name but not sure whose to say; so instead you just babbled mindlessly, sounded just as dumbfounded as you felt.

But they weren't having any problems speaking, in fact they were more talkative than ever, each whispering in a different ear and making shivers crawl up your spine with every word.

"You're making us feel so good, such a good girl, aren't you Peachy baby?"

"Such a perfect fucking whore, so wet already just from being used."

"Want us to come inside, huh Peach?  Wanna be full of come?”

Each time you arched your back, it only somehow pushed them both deeper, so deep you couldn’t think about anything else anymore.  Bucky was moving at a much slower pace than Steve, such that they would only occasionally thrust all the way in at exactly the same time— and when they did, you heard yourself moan but refused to believe it was you making the sound because it sounded nothing like you, it didn’t even seem like something you would do; enjoying this that much, that is.

“You’re close, huh?  Gonna come for both of us?”

You found yourself nodding, even though they couldn’t see it, but Bucky must have felt it against his shoulder because he laughed a little, grabbing your face and turning you back to kiss you hungrily.  When he moved his kiss down to the back of your neck, Steve captured your lips instead, less dominating than Bucky’s but no less intense.  The moan that undeniably signalled your orgasm was nearly lost against Steve’s tongue, but they both heard it and began to pump into you faster, keeping you suspended in your pleasure.

Steve lost it first, spilling into you with a choked groan and a tight grip on your arms that was sure to bruise.  Bucky was close behind, panting with each hurried thrust until he finally moaned and filled your ass with ropes of hot come, a sensation you never could’ve imagined, let alone predicted you would experience twice in one day.

Bucky rubbed your thighs while he caught his breath while Steve peppered your face in tender kisses, both of them showering you in affection you had no idea how to handle.

“Whaddaya say, dollface?” Bucky prompted as he kissed just beneath your ear.  “Y’like bein’ our little Peach, don’t you?”

You stammered over a few different responses, none of them very good, until Steve finally instructed you: “say yes.”

“Yes,” you repeated instantly.

“I can tell you do, you soaked my cock real good,” Steve praised with a grin you could feel against your cheek and hear in his gravelly voice.  “We’ll head out in the morning, alright?  Soon we’ll be somewhere where nobody knows who we are, what we’ve done… doesn’t that sound nice, Peach?  A chance to start over?”

A fresh start never hurt anyone, right?

//

Months on the run made the night all blend together, you didn’t even know what state you were in anymore and you couldn’t find the energy to care.

It was definitely harder to hitchhike with three people, and a disturbing amount of truckers offered to take you alone but not your companions— and obviously they would never allow such a thing.  At this point, you were better off with the devils you knew, anyways.  At least with them you knew what to expect.

Specifically, you could expect Steve to be aloof and brooding until he occasionally snapped and became possessive over you again, asserting his dominance over you and Bucky however he could manage— usually by covering your body in his marks and every once in a while by covering your face with his come.  You could expect Bucky to taunt and mock you, cornering you into consenting to his relentless barrage of pleasure and pain, over and over again watching you struggle to maintain your sense of denial and disgust, reminding you that you loved being fucked just how he wanted.

In fact, today was a pretty typical day while the three of you crashed in a motel, Steve staying silent and distant while Bucky kissed his way down your stomach that rose and fell shakily with each breath.

“Bucky, p-please,” you whispered, closing your eyes so you could more easily pretend it wasn’t you begging him for more.

"What's that, Peach?  Want me to lick up your juice?" he grinned.

You shuddered and he chuckled as he knelt down between your legs to give a long, slow lick over your sex.  Your entire body jolted when his rough tongue slid over your swollen clit, so he focused there until your legs were quivering and your head fell back.  

"Mm, so sweet…” he cooed.  “Come getta taste a’this, Steve.”

“I’m busy,” Steve refused, turning the page of his newspaper.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Bucky sighed, standing up straighter and leaving your pussy ignored; you whined a little, but it fell on deaf ears.  “I’d love to see what you’re reading that could possibly be more interesting than this.”

“There’s an article about us,” Steve answered sternly, looking up from the paper to meet Bucky’s gaze, before glancing to look at you.  “All three of us.”

Bucky huffed and stood up, leaving you naked on the bed as he crossed the room to tear the paper from Steve’s hands.  His eyes scanned the page until he landed on the part Steve must have been referring to.  “Holy shit,” he breathed.  “Look, Peach, you made the papers!”

He brought over the article for you to read, and you sat up straighter when you saw that a photo of yourself had been included alongside the mugshots of Steve and Bucky.

Two escaped prisoners, one missing woman, spotted in woods near Schenectady, NY...

“When is this from?” you asked nervously.

“The paper’s from today, but we were in Schenectady two weeks ago,” Steve explained.  “They aren’t anywhere near us.”

It brought back memories of TV broadcasts you’d seen in hotels, radio news Steve had turned off before you heard too much.  Phrases like ‘statewide manhunt,’ ‘federal investigation,’ and ‘trafficked woman,’ which had once been foreign to you, now represented your deepest anxieties.

Bucky saw the fear on your face and knelt down on the bed beside you, stroking your face gently.  “Aw, Peach, don’t be scared… they’re not gonna find us, I promise.”

“If they did… what would happen to me?” you asked weakly.  You truly had no idea if you’d be returned home and treated as the victim of a crime, or if you’d be arrested and charged as a perpetrator, as a collaborator who aided in the escape and continued flee of two violent criminals.  They’d already gotten you in on a few robberies, even one bank— could you defend yourself by saying that you were forced to do it?  

“Nobody’s gonna take you away from us,” Bucky assured sternly, not quite answering your question but making it clear that was all you were gonna get.  You reached up to rest your hand atop his where it held your cheek, letting your watery eyes fall shut before you looked back up into his enrapturing gaze again.

“Kiss me, Bucky, please,” you whispered, making him laugh and shake his head.

“No, Peachy, I would but I know where that mouth has been.  Steve woke you up in the middle of the night to choke on his cock, thought I wouldn’t hear, huh?”

You gasped a little and Steve crossed his arms where he sat in the chair.  Bucky turned his attention back to Steve with a look of challenge on his face.  “She’s scared, Stevie, won’t you come over here and make her feel better?”

Steve sighed but relented and stood up, crossing the room to stand beside the bed and stare down at you.  For a moment you didn’t know what he intended to do, until he knelt down and grabbed your hips, pulled your spread legs closer to the edge of the bed where he latched his lips onto your slick and swollen folds.

“Oh god,” you moaned, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his hair, his tongue pushing inside you right away, twisting and thrusting and licking right over your g-spot until your eyes rolled back in your head and your back arched up off the faded quilt.  Bucky grinned as he watched you, leaning down to kiss your neck, then suckle on a hardened nipple, then lick over your hips until finally he bit down on the inside of your thigh.  You yelped a little and felt him smile against your delicate skin.

“I told you we’d take care of you, babydoll,” he mumbled, voice all deep and throaty like it got when he was about to spend an hour reminding you who you belonged to.

Sometimes you dreamed of the life you had before this, of the person you were when you only belonged to yourself, but that life was gone forever and it wasn’t coming back.  Each day you mourned it in a different way.  At first it was just the loss of dignity, then it was the loss at any chance of gaining that dignity back.  You missed your friends and family, but you realized they wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms after this long.

You realized it was well and truly over the first time a man on the news called you an accomplice to the ‘rampant crime spree’ of Bucky and Steve.  Just a few weeks later, the stories changed from two prisoners and their kidnapping victim, to three prisoners.  And yes, you were a prisoner, but the police didn’t see a difference between you and them anymore.  You had no reason to run, no motive for escape.  They were the only thing keeping you alive and free now, even if this freedom wasn’t exactly overflowing with liberties.

So, you accepted as quickly as you could that this was your new life; every morning you banished the memories of who you used to be, and every night you prayed that your lovers wouldn’t be caught.  And it wasn’t so bad of a life to have, even if it wasn’t the life you would’ve chosen for yourself— there was something nice about it, really, never very calm but still having its moments of peace and domesticity.  Like falling asleep in the backseat of a stolen truck while Steve played blues on the radio.  Like sitting in Bucky’s lap as he told you all about the beautiful tropical islands they’d take you to someday.  Like when Steve robbed a jewelry store and told you he’d picked that one because they had the ring he’d seen in a magazine ad, the ring he decided he wanted you to wear from now on.  Like being Mrs. Barnes when Bucky introduced you to his criminal connections, and being Mrs. Rogers when Steve did the same the next night.

Maybe you’d forgotten how to be anything else but their sweet, quiet, obedient Peach, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad wrap after all.