#wonder woman through a glass darkly

[moonlightperseus]

god i love them

[destinationtrekk]

not there yet

Wesker doesn't realize he's in a love story until he's nearly too late.

1.3k, BSAA reader, RE5 Wesker, Ada Wong my love, whump, hurt/comfort, he gives you T-Virus because that's his love language, friends to enemies to ?????, he shoots you (out of love), he's probably ooc (don't care!)

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3

-> masterlist

-> not there yet on ao3

64.media.tumblr.com

You had not wanted to be in Africa, now or ever, but Chris had a certain way of pouting that made you agree to anything he asked. The sight of Wesker was not so much a surprise as it was a relief. Your team had been tracking him for ages, and to stumble upon him here of all places was a cruel gift.

Now, as his dark form stood above you, his pistol pointed at your head, you wanted to smile around the pain that tore through you. His long coat billowed around his legs, and you saw the glow of his eyes behind his glasses, one of the lenses cracked, and you wondered if he had even noticed it through all the commotion.

You smiled sadly at him, "W-Wait, Al..."

He scowled as you used his silly nickname, one only you could get away with, a sickly sweet melody to his ears. You looked down at your abdomen, your hand doing a poor job of stemming the blood flowing out of a stab wound on your hip. You were starting to feel sick - despite your job, you never did get used to seeing that much blood.

He grit out a quiet, "What is it?" between his teeth, and you turned your head back toward him. You smiled again, feeling blood begin to drip down your forehead. "Do you remember the night we got drunk in your office? and you had to drive me home because I could barely stand," You couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound turning into a violent cough and blood splattering across your lap.

He looked disgusted for a moment, and then his expression froze. He clenched his jaw, and you took a moment to memorize his face. He shook his head like it would clear his memories and looked at you darkly. "This isn't a love story, dearheart."

You smirked, head falling back against the rubble you were splayed across. "Yeah it is, Wes'," You murmured weakly, starting to gag against the blood climbing your throat, "We just haven't got there yet."

He looked heartbroken for half a second, and then his hand tightened on the trigger. You prepared for a mercy shot, but in a split second, his arm shifted and you felt excruciating pain ripping through your thigh. You never got used to the bullet wounds, either. You couldn't scream, short on air, but you felt the muscle spasm, warm liquid beginning to pool under your leg, joining the rest of the bloody mess.

The room began to swim as he turned to walk away, his shoulders hunched and steps slow. "Couldn't even make the kill, could you?" You taunted after him, playful even in death. Your vision started to go, spots flickering, and your last sight was his pause to turn his head and give you one last, devastated glance over his shoulder

-

Low voices voices roused you awake, or to some nauseating semblance of it. Immediately next was rippling pain across your stomach and legs, a steady ache building behind your eyes. It took a few seconds, and nearly all your energy, but you cracked your eyes open and groaned. Cold, wet arms were holding you against a firm chest, and your head lolled around as you tried to get a look around. You made out a long, dim hallway through your blurred vision, and a slim woman walking ahead, a familiar red dress practically painted on her.

 You managed to roll your head around to look at who was holding you, and your lips twitched into a weak smile. Wesker, his face covered in blood and dirt and his glasses missing, had you in his arms. The acrid tang of blood was coating his clothes, and you felt the sticky warmth of it against your cheek as you collapsed your head against his chest. You felt more than heard his sharp inhale, and coughed out some semblance of a laugh before you whined in pain. "Told you," You slurred, voice weak and thick with pain. You started to drift off again when you heard his low voice, sounding much more urgent than before, and then you were gone again.

-

Their voices were much louder when you came around this time, and the pain had subsided considerably. All you felt now were dull aches pulsating through your abdomen, and a weak throb in your leg where his bullet had ripped through. You felt odd, like you were seeing, or rather hearing, the world in high definition for the first time.

"She should be awake by now," a low, rumbling voice on the left, followed by a much lighter tone. "You nearly beat her to death, Albert. These things take time."

You tried to swallow, but it turned into a rough choke as you felt thick blood coating your throat, dried into a sickly coalescence now. The voices picked up in urgency, metal clanging together around you before you attempted a deep breathing, realizing something was shoved down your throat. You choked again, eyes snapping open, as you reached up, desperately clawing at your neck like you could tear though and clear the airway yourself.

Nearly immediately, the oxygen tube was out of your mouth and you began to cough roughly. Warm hands pulled your fingers away from your neck and held them still while you took deep, trembling breaths. Wesker was standing above you, sans glasses with his glowing eyes narrowed in... concern? You couldn't tell, too busy trying to breathe through the shock. Ada Wong was looking at you as well, her expression much more worried than his. You laughed without humor and looked at both of them blearily, letting your head fall back against the table with a dull thud. "Knew it," You managed to whisper, voice hoarse and quiet. "Couldn't let me go."

Wesker growled a warning sound and looked at Ada, who promptly left the room. His hands were still on your wrist, holding your arm still against the cold metal table. "Shut up," he grit between his teeth. "This changes nothing. I could hardly leave you to die when you could be so useful to me."

You rolled your eyes and flinched at the sharp flare it sent your head. His grip tightened on you, before he let go all together, your skin cold where his warm hands had been. "You nearly did it though - beat me to death, I mean." You rasped, throat too sore for much else.

He reached behind him, grabbing a water bottle. He quickly opened it and helped you take a few sips, a scowl still staining his face. "Not so much a love story now, is it?"

You grinned and coughed wetly, turning away from him until you caught your breath. "Told you we weren't there yet, didn't I?"

You didn't so much care about what came next, only that you were here, with him. His hair was ruffled, likely from running his hands through it in worry, as he was apt to do. Your eyes roamed his torso, noting his bruised collarbones, exposed by the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. When you met his gaze again, he looked something near shameful.

"It'll take a few more days for the virus to do its work, but you'll be fine." He murmured, uncharacteristically soft. You frowned at him, and then noted the syringe in his lap like he had dropped it mindlessly. Your expression fell, and you slowly locked eyes on him again.

"I'm not sorry." A twinge of remorse coated his lie. "I need you alive, because - you're useful. That's it."

You raised your head enough to find his hand again, weakly intertwining your bloody fingers with his. A myriad of confusing emotions swelled in your chest, but all you could focus on was the warmth of his palm, dried blood flaking off your skin onto his. "Then I'll be useful. Hated the BSAA anyway."

The look he gave you then was raw, his eyes wide as he searched your face. All you could do was smile tiredly, and close your eyes again. His other hand wrapped around where your fingers were twisted together, and you heard him finally let out a sigh of relief.

[zablife]

Drinks with Polly in the Parlor

Requested by @notyour-valentine for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

"Would you care for a glass of champagne, Aunt Polly?" you asked sweetly. You wanted to impress your husband's aunt with your hospitality, but you needed a glass of liquid courage yourself after being left alone with the imposing Shelby matriarch. The silence which had already grown between you was terrifying and made you feel like a failure.

She turned from the mirror where she was checking her crimson lipstick, one perfectly manicured eyebrow arched in your direction as she replied coldly, "Champagne is for celebrations, my dear. I'm afraid a toast seems woefully late considering your nuptials took place weeks ago. Wouldn't you agree?"

You could only blink in shock. It was true you and Tommy had eloped without a single family member present to witness your vows, but he assured you it was the done thing. This was his third marriage after all and you agreed a lavish affair would be inappropriate, especially given the fact that he divorced his second wife less than a year ago. Surely Polly understood all this? Then again, the withering glance she gave, proved otherwise.

"I'm sorry if we've offended you..." you began.

Polly waved off your apology before you could finish, crossing to the bar to pour her own drink. Like Tommy she preferred Irish whisky, neat and she sipped it slowly as she looked you up and down carefully. A small smile began to form on her lips as she noticed the abundance of diamonds caressing your delicate neck.

"It's not you or I who should be apologizing. My nephew can be a careless man," she hummed, smile quickly fading as she stared at her own reflection once more, seeing something which obviously displeased her. "I always thought he favored his mother, but he is so like his father at times the way he treats the women in this family."

"Excuse me?" you asked, twisting your fingers and wondering what could be keeping Tommy. You were beginning to feel uncomfortable with the turn in conversation.

She chuckled darkly as she stopped in front of you, her hazel eyes dancing with a manic energy that made your stomach drop in anticipation of her next words. "I died for him once. Did you know that?"

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, fingers now clutching the cool metal at your throat as if it might make your husband appear more quickly to save you.

"It's alright, I escaped the noose," she assured you, lowering the volume of her voice to that relegated for the telling of secrets. "Climbed through it like a window to the other side. And I found you can do anything you want cause there are no rules, cause there are no risks. When you’re dead already, you’re free," she whispered as though she was imparting wisdom you might find useful one day.

"He did me a favor really," she mused. "Now I'm the one protecting this family because I'm the only one who can see it all clearly. My second sight keeps us safe, you know." However, you only heard the rantings of a madwoman and your body began to tremble involuntarily.

"Oh, darling. You're shaking," she noted, reaching a hand out to steady you. Her fingers grasped your forearm, nails digging in like talons, and anchoring you to the spot. With saccharine sweetness she cooed, "That's a beautiful necklace," drawing out the vowels in beautiful until it sounded like a taunt. "What does a woman like you have to do to earn a bauble like that?"

"T-tommy chose it on our honeymoon because he loves me," you stuttered, eyes searching hers for a sign she would release you from this trap you'd unwittingly fallen into.

"Diamonds," she said reverentially. "Goodness, you are special then, aren't you?" she couldn't help but add sarcastically.

"I should hope so," you answered in a defiant tone you could no longer hold back given her blatant disrespect.

Her hand slipped from you and you took two steps backward as she smirked. "You know it was sapphires for Grace. They represent wealth and abundance so that suited her I suppose. Rubies for Lizzie, all vitality and passion. But here you stand wearing diamonds," she pronounced.

Feeling the clasp of the necklace dig into your skin in the same painful way Polly's nails had clawed against your arm, your irritation grew. "And what does that mean?" you demanded. Your unease caused the gems to weigh down upon you like bricks. You tried to inhale deeply, but found it difficult to draw breath.

"Some say eternity," she answered in amusement before turning her concentration to your neck. A cackle erupted from her lips as though the idea of your union was a complete joke. Your anger mounted along with the suffocating feeling, closing your throat so you couldn't scream or reply.

"Others say invincibility," she added. "But that's not what you two have. I can see it in the air around you. I know what you are," she proclaimed, eyes narrowing at you hatefully. She closed her fists tightly by her side, knuckles white from the force. And that's when you felt the crushing grip at your windpipe. You fell to your knees, hands flying to your throat, ripping at the necklace or whatever phantom force seemed to be cutting off your air supply. As you rocked back and forth spluttering and choking, Polly stood over you triumphantly.

-----------

When Tommy came looking for you in the parlor, Polly sat sipping her whisky calmly on the sofa. His eyes immediately darted to your tear stained face as he heard your hiccuped sobs coming fast between uneven breaths. "Y/n?" he called to you in panic, crossing the room in quick strides before Polly held up a hand for him to stop.

"She has something to say, Tommy," she announced, looking to you expectantly.

Tommy furrowed his brow in confusion as his foot came to rest over something small and hard. Stooping to retrieve the object, the hurt became evident on his face as he surveyed the floor where your beautiful necklace lay in ruins, a constellation of diamonds cast over the carpet.

As the jewel winked up at him, he looked from his palm and back to you as you stood, wobbling slightly from lightheadedness. "I've made a terrible mistake," you sobbed, brushing past him and running from the room with the urgency of someone fleeing their own execution.

Before he could turn to follow, Polly's eyes flicked up to Tommy's, holding him motionless within her hypnotic gaze as she promised answers. "Perhaps now she'll tell you what she really wanted here because it was never you, my boy."

------------

Tag List:

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

@thegreatdragonfruta

@noforkingclue

[theoperativeif]

Roads and Mother (Roads POV)

Road often thought of the hallways as reminiscent of the brothels from her youth. Long corridors with dirty red carpeting and walls adorned with gold and brown designs, large portraits, and artwork. Such a facade was designed to make its patrons believe they still belonged to something high and mighty, to divert their attention from the suppressed cries and choked sobs of those who could never leave.

Road had once been one of those voices.

And yet, here she found herself in someone else's hell, someone important to her. The lab's bleach-white hallways were a stark contrast to the bloody rooms she passed. The deep scratches in the metal and the seemingly mindless movements of the staff were alarming. Their eyes dared not meet hers as she passed. Road had been summoned by the lab's overseer, a woman the Operatives referred to as Mother.

Road snickered ruefully, reminded of the older women at the brothels. They would manipulate young boys and girls, claiming to care deeply, yet forcing them into horrifying conditions. Road swallowed, her throat dry as she flexed her hand. She wouldn't allow the one person important to her to be treated like cattle. Reaching down, Road retrieved a cigarette. Smoking was frowned upon inside a military facility, but Road figured they had more pressing concerns than her indulging in a habit.

She stopped at a room, marked with a long list of numbers next to it, before pressing the call button and waiting.

A few moments later, the door opened. Poking her head through, Road raised an eyebrow. The room was fairly small, with a single bed in the corner, a nightstand, and a toilet on the opposing wall. It resembled a prison cell rather than the once room of a child. Though, she thought darkly, it did look familiar.

"Simple and effective," a cold voice spoke from behind her. Spinning around, she caught sight of the woman, her eyes staring vacantly behind large glasses. The woman smiled at Road, gesturing around. "How are you enjoying your tour of the facility?"

"It's shit," Road commented, blowing smoke towards the woman. "You would think with all the funds you receive, you could build a better facility."

The woman's smile remained unflinching as she lightly waved away the smoke wafting over her face. "You do know that isn't good for you."

"Well, aren't you the true dispenser of wisdom, grandma," Road sneered, flicking the cigarette towards the woman. It bounced in a small bloom of ash and embers against her coat before falling to the floor. "Why don't you cut the crap and get straight to why I'm standing here."

"002," the woman replied, her smile twitching on her face, sending a cold shiver down Road's back. "You are fairly close to them, I hear."

"Well, grandma needs some new hearing aids too because you heard wrong," Road snapped, moving to step past her. "I am close to nobody."

"So it's just a coincidence that you are here, you who would have so much to gain by staying on Earth," she replied, holding out a hand to stop Road.

Road looked at it, wondering if 002 would mind if their mother returned with some broken bones. Sighing, she batted the hand aside and stepped past the woman, exiting the room. This was a waste of her time.

The woman continued from behind her. "You know, the work I put in to make sure my children can see clearly is very important to me. I want to ensure your intentions are pure."

Pure. Road gritted her teeth, rounding on the woman.

"Intentions? You, of all people, shouldn't preach to me about intentions. Look at this place. Your intentions are the ones that should be questioned. I've seen the scars. I recognize those kinds of scars. They aren't from a battlefield," Road snarled, pointing a finger in the woman's face.

The woman's placid smile returned as she reached up, gently caressing a small stone hanging from a necklace around her neck. "Discipline is vital in all my children, and even more so for soldiers."

"They were children," Road said, feeling a small stab of pain in her chest.

"They were dead," the woman snapped, her friendly facade melting away to reveal something more sinister. "I saved them all. Even the ones that failed, I gave their life a purpose. To serve mankind rather then be..."

She trailed off as Roads watched the woman reconstruct her mask of indifference.

"And if 002 failed?" Road said, her hand dropping to her belt. "Or if they fail now, are you just going to discard them like the heartless witch I know you are?"

There was a flash of emotion on the woman's face that Road caught for a fleeting moment before it was masked. It was a brief look of concern, then one of anger. She watched as the woman squeezed the stone for a moment before she relaxed, allowing her hands to drop.

"They won't fail me," she said, a look of confidence on her face as she stepped closer. "But I will be interested in seeing if they fail you."

Without another word, the woman turned, leaving Road standing alone in the hallway.

[broken-clover]

Shiny!

This one's just dumb. Still not over Blue gifting Phoenix an empty dented can. Ngl I am never 100% sure how to write Blue Diamond, she's kind of a difficult character, but an effort was still made

-

Being a four-man party meant that it was difficult to hide anything from anyone for too long. I-no had swiftly noticed one of the money jars missing from the table they’d been using to fill them. They tried to divide gold evenly between them, it was just simpler that way. If Tao wanted to buy eight HP Bananas instead of better armor for the third time, then, well, that was her money to spend. Even if everyone wondered where she found the room for them…

I-no knew which one was hers. Tao’s had little cat paws scribbled all over it. Phoenix’s had a purple lid. That left Blue. And given the lack of muffled sniffling, that meant she was probably out at the market buying something with those savings.

She tried not to be envious, but if Blue had wanted to go shopping, why not invite the rest of them? Would’ve been cheaper to split a cart that way. 

Unless it had been intentional.

Every once in a while, Phoenix had come back with a gift for someone that he’d picked up with his own money. His habit had begun to rub off on the rest of them. I-no had been gifted a couple of random tchotchkes from Tao a couple weeks back. She’d tossed some nice-looking seashell in a box and presented it to their poor sod of a leader at some point, if only to avoid looking stingy compared to everyone else. If it was supposed to be something like that, it had to mean one of them was gonna get something nice real soon.

“Meow!! Tall lady’s back!!”

Grinning darkly, I-no fluttered off in the direction of her guildmate’s voice. Tao had gotten busy greeting blue before she even had a chance to get through the door.

Aha, and there it was. A gift-wrapped box, currently being held up out of Taokaka’s reach. Blue had the benefit of height, towering over the rest of them, but Tao’s presence still had her looking uneasy.

“That’s enough, Taokaka, you’re going to make me drop it!”

“Welcome back, princess,” said I-no. She gestured to the present. “Was wondering what you’d ducked out for.”

“Ah, I-no,” her accent tugged on the vowels as they came out of her mouth. As much as she hated to admit it, I-no did think it gave her singing voice a distinctive edge over her own. “I think I’m finally getting this ‘gift-giving’ custom!” Blue smiled softly. “I can’t give pearls or colonies anymore, but trinkets aren’t too different, are they? I hope he likes it.”

‘He,’ then. Bummer. Didn’t mean I-no had to get through this completely bored, though. “What, you trying to schmooze up to him?”

“What- what do you mean?”

“O-ho-ho, Tao gets it!” The cat darted by, trying to swat at the gift again. “Red Lady thinks Tall Lady wants to take naps with Good Guy!”

A more g-rated implication than I-no had been leaning towards, but Blue still seemed to get the point. “S-stop it, don’t speak like that!”

I-no could feel tears welling in the corners of her eyes, but she disregarded them and flicked the wetness away. The woman’s weird emotion powers still took some getting used to, but the imp wasn’t one to break down in hysterical crying.

“Relax, yeesh.”

“Hmph.” Raising her nose, Blue pushed past her two teammates and headed down the hall. She found the room next to the one she’d been sleeping in and knocked. When he didn’t open it, Blue let herself in. Their leader was napping facedown on his bed. The sound of the door made him twitch. 

“Mhh…who’sat?”

“Phoenix?”

“Blue?” He felt for his glasses along the mattress. “Something wrong?”

When he could see properly, his attention drifted to the package she was carrying. Blue took the opportunity to present it. “I saw this and thought of you!” She held out the little wrapped box with glee.

Phoenix blinked owlishly. “O-oh, for me?”

“I wrapped it up just like you did.” The box was placed in his lap. “Is that the correct way?”

“Uh, it looks great! You did a great job,” he chuckled, sheepish and still a bit confused from being woken so abruptly. But far be it from him to refuse such a kind gift from someone he cared about. He tugged at the ribbon to undo it and carefully pulled apart the wrapping. Blue watched with both hands folded behind her back. While her dark eyebags were ever-present, her smile permeated the gloom of it.

Nestled inside the mass of colorful tissue paper was an empty, dented tin can.

She looked at him with eager eyes. “Do you like it?” 

“E-er…” He looked between the ‘gift’ and Blue’s serenely smiling face. “It’s…that’s very kind of you, Blue…”

‘Did I do something wrong? Is she trying to tell me something? Am I doing a terrible job? ‘Reminded me of you,’ does that mean she sees me as trash? Is this some sorta alien metaphor? Oh god, she’s probably about to yell at me. Blue’s gonna yell at me and call me stupid. I’m the worst. Why did I try and be a leader? I’m the worst at this.’

‘I’m so good at this,’ she thought to herself. ‘I can’t wait to tell the others. They’ll be so impressed.’

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

The Perfect Life

Deleted Ending

Summary- 1.7k Dark Steve Rogers x Reader x Dark Bucky Barnes. It's been over a year since Steve and Bucky abducted you to bring you to the remote farmhouse with fields of sunflowers. Finally, Steve and Bucky have the perfect woman, pregnant with their child.

Warnings- Noncon and violent death of a major character.

A/N- This is it folks, the very end of this series. For those of you who have stuck with me, I hope that this gives some satisfaction, although I'm anticipating some disbelief. I do hope you all enjoyed this dark series. Also, beware of those people with hero complexes.

Masterlist

Steve was a god among these people. 

He believed this as he stalked through Stark Towers to where Tony waited for there meeting. People stopped him in awe, giving him the rush to get through these moments till he could get home to his family. 

A sunflower room where you waited like the good girl they trained you to be. Waiting patiently for his all his desires, no matter how twisted they could get. After that day in the basement, you were finally the housewife he and Bucky deserved. 

It was a good feeling. After all these years, he and his best friend had what they needed. It was only a matter of time before you would be all swollen, months into your pregnancy. They just found out last night with a test, but now Steve needed actual confirmation. 

Excitement filled the super soldier as he recalled watching you piss on the stick. When it finally revealed that you were pregnant, he was so damn proud. He and Bucky both.  

Since you couldn’t leave the house, not yet anyways, Steve was going to have Tony send a trusted physician to the farmhouse. You might be broken, but Bucky pointed out that you had a wild streak for freedom in you. After the baby was born, they would see about taking you off the desolate property. Back to civilization for a while. 

After having his and Buckys child, you deserved a vacation somewhere, as a family. Steve smiled at the thought of being able to take you to the faraway places he remembered traveling to. He couldn’t wait to see your eyes light up at the wonders of the world, thanking him and Bucky over and over in that sweet way where you go to your knees, eyes shining adoringly up at them while you stuck out your tongue. 

Fuck he could feel himself getting hard just thinking about you. Punching the top floor button on the elevator, Steve leaned against the glass to watch the world below get smaller, lost in his thoughts of all the ways he was going to treat you for being simply perfect for them. 

When the door slipped open to the massive office, he strode off. Tony from behind his desk glanced at the clock, cocking an eyebrow. “I expected you sooner.” 

Honestly Steve did too, but he got preoccupied leaving that morning. 

“Come on Sweetheart, say my name.” He urged as he knelt behind you, your head tipped back to look up at him while your ass slapped back into him as hard as he was pounding you. 

“Steve.” You finally moaned out in that way that could make his balls tight with the need to spill again. 

“I was busy.” He informed Tony while taking a seat, one leg folding over the other and Tony gave him a knowing look. 

“And how is she doing? Adjusting?” 

“Y/N knows she is ours, accepted it.” Steve said happily. “It took some time, but we got through to her that this was really the best for her. She will never want for anything.” 

“Not even her freedom?” Tony raised a cool brow at this question and Steve felt some doubt simmer in him, enough to make him snap a bit. 

“Not even her freedom."

"Hmm, you know Cap, you and Bucky tried this with others. That field of sunflowers confirms that." Tony said darkly, making Steve tense. You certainly weren't the first. Others before you were tested, proved to not be able to withstand the life he and Bucky were willing to give you. But you didn't need to know about the scattered graves in the field of flowers, none of those women were good enough. You were perfect. "What makes her different?" Tony asked curiously.

"Because we showed her how good life with us can be," Steve said confidently. "In fact, I believe we are expecting so that will take up her time when we are not around.” 

Tony’s eyes brightened in surprise, giving a snap of his hand against his desk. “Well, congratulations Cap. I'm shocked you even dragged yourself away after that news.” 

“Thank you, it was a long time coming but worth the wait.” Steve got a faraway look as he thought about how long he had wanted to settle down, have his girl on his arm and a babe in hers. How Bucky would stare after him and Peggy longing for that family. Steve thought Peggy would be it, but then everything happened and dashed that dream away. 

When he rejoined the world, everything changed. He thought he was all alone. A lonely life longing for what was. 

Until Bucky showed up again, broken but still his best friend. That's when the idea took root for Steve, they couldn’t find a girl here to satisfy their needs, they would train one. Make her the perfect wife and mother. Steve had no issue sharing with Bucky, not when he wanted to see his best friend as happy as he was now.

With Tony’s help, that dream became a reality. It had taken over a year to get you to this point, but Steve wouldn’t change anything that had happened. You all were now so happy. 

“So what do you need then? You want to bring Y/N here to have her checked out?” 

Steve gave a shake of his head. “No, she isn’t ready for that yet. Can we fly someone out there?” 

“Of course, I got plenty eligible people on the payroll. Jarvis, pull up a list of pediatricians in the building.” 

While Tony searched for the doctor, Steve pulled out his phone to check on you. Would you be curled up in your seat, reading in the sunshine? Taking a walk with Bucky around the property? Maybe in the kitchen working on one of your wonderful apple pies for when he got home. 

It took seconds of him being able to find you. Apparently he wasn’t the only one needing to be with you because currently Bucky had you on the kitchen counter, thighs gripping his waist as he fucked you. Your head was tipped back, Steve could picture the soft moans escaping you. So sweet sounding. 

He was about to close the phone when he saw your hand reach behind you and panic rose in his chest. 

“Dont you do it Doll.” He growled out and Tony paused in surprise. 

“Everything okay Rogers?” 

“Fuck.” Steve snarled as he stared at the screen. “I need to get back, right now.” He leaped up from the chair, panic wild in his eyes.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Tighter Doll, thatta girl, good girl.” Bucky's hot breath was buried against your neck, your arm slung around him with nails gripping his muscled back. You squeezed your thighs more, wrapped around him while you jolted against the cool counter, panting in Bucky’s ear. 

“Make me cum Bucky, I need it so bad.” You whined as you nipped at his earlobe. “Put another baby in me.” 

It made him groan, grinding into you and you felt yourself building up to make it end. Your body shaking as your belly clenched, needing it now. “Keep me full, Bucky, please.” You whined out again, crying out in pleasure while scratching down his back. 

“I'm gonna Doll. You are so good. Fuck.” He grunted and you feathered kisses against his neck, pulling him closer against you, His forehead fell to your shoulder, his hands bruising your hips to hold you still for him to finish. 

He was distracted enough to not notice your subtle movements while your moans of his name got louder, keeping him pounding you.

Your hand stretched behind you, the knife block so close now and he was distracted with finishing. Trying to drive you to finish. You couldn’t cum, not yet as much as your body wanted to loose itself, making you feel disgust with yourself for even wanting to give in. 

Closer, closer, your fingers brushed the familiar wooden handle. And just as you started to quake, moments away from giving into the sensation, you pulled the knife loose. 

Bucky came just as you plunged the blade into his neck, making him roar in shock and pleasure while he crashed into you. 

You didn’t stop, you yanked that knife out again and went deeper with each plunge. Spurts of blood escaped him to cover you as he pushed you away with a bloody hiss while it squirted from his mouth. 

You tumbled against the floor, scrambling to your feet to lunge at Bucky again, grabbing at the knife protruding from his neck and yank it out. 

“Y/N, fuck, why? Fuck.” He tried smothering the grisly holes in his neck, blood running all over the place. You held the knife in front of you and scrambled further away from where he was laying on the floor, panting at the exertion of what just happened, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

It was a better feeling then any orgasm he had ever given you. 

“Y/N, Steve, call Steve.” Bucky’s voice was gutted sounding, still not having processed your betrayal. 

You laughed coldly while you worked your way to a stand and held onto the counter to keep from slipping in the blood on the floor. “You are delusional Bucky.” 

“Do it.” He hissed, his hand slippery against his neck while he started going pale. You savored the actual look of fear in Bucky’s eyes. You imagined that was how you must have looked so many times. Having the power to be able to stare him down gave another rush of adrenaline. “Because you need us. We love-” His tone started to fade, his eyes trying to stay open. 

“You love me?” You flipped the knife to aim into a downward plunge motion, this time aiming for his heart, grimacing slightly as you felt the blade push in. You loomed over him, watching his vibrant stormy eyes fade to nothing. “You were a monster, even if you loved me like you think you did.” 

Prying out the knife, you fell back, the whole kitchen floor streaked red with sticky blood and you were covered in warm blood. You felt the tingle of anticipation fill you and glancing up, your eyes fell on the houses camera system. 

It was like you could feel Steve’s rage and pain through the lens that was focused on you. You could just imagine his expression now, watching as you killed his best friend, the only friend you suspected. Pushing up, you made your way across the kitchen till you were standing just under it so the camera had a clear view of you, staring coldly up at it. Pulling off the dress you were wearing, you tossed it at the bloody mess that was once Barnes. With the knife still in your hand, you felt along your hip till you found the B scar Bucky gave you. 

“He doesn’t own me anymore Steve.” You said out loud, taking the knife tip and slicing it across the B till it was ruined. Tears streamed down your face, cutting through the blood smeared on your face, but your smile was cold, and predatory, showing your satisfaction. The lens seemed to zoom in on you while you mouthed silently. 

Come get me Steve, I’m ready for you. 

You were ready to burn down your sunflower prison to the ground when Steve came for you.

[wonderfuldeath]

.o| Seasonal Calendar |o.

Photo

• July 6 •

Warnings : Fluff, angst, screaming

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

“- Don't move!”

The click of the camera catches him a little off guard as she has an amused laugh. Crystalline as the reflections of water, and he seems taken aback. The early summer breeze moves his hair, long enough to fit in a clip, honey-blond, with reflections of an ancient red. It takes his breath away, stretching him with the blink of an eyelash. Her purple dress, with a false tear to reveal the lace, seems quite short for a girl of her age, but he makes no comment. The black camera, a small professional camera that probably fit in the bunny bag on his back, reflects the reflections of the water, and for a moment, he wonders what she's just recorded.

“Thank you.

- Hm.”

With difficulty, the young woman passes the barrier, taking great care of the camera, surely to make sure she didn't damage it any more, obviously it had suffered a blow, the crack from the lens to the top button proves it, and his misplaced curiosity makes him wonder what could have happened to it.

“- A bad fall from a tree.

- Eh?

- The crack. The camera fell out of the tree.

- Oh.”

He looks away, as she seems to stare at the horizon as he does, the camera resting on her thighs proving that it wasn't the sea she'd photographed, but something around him. He couldn't help looking at her, petite, darkly styled, despite the Karakura heat, wearing black leather boots. Perhaps to enhance an already pleasant outfit, perhaps to make her more comfortable to walk in. He detailed every little thing about her, she had minty green eyes, she had a soft look, and she had a lot of trouble bending her left leg. Probably due to an injury. His light, resonant laugh again made him look away from her, completely.

“- Don't you want to see it?

- See it?

- The photo. Usually people tend to ask for it.

- I'm not interested.”

Another laugh, and he wrinkles his nose, but can't say anything. The unpleasant sound of the phone between his fingers rings and he doesn't really take the time to wait. She watches him run, then fixes the snapshot on the camera with a gentle smile.

-x-

“- Mily!”

The young woman looks up from her phone as she straightens up. The second time Hitsugaya had seen her, the second time he'd been struck by her. Her hair waved softly over her childlike face, and she had that mischievous, laughing look when she recognized him. Her black bunny bag was still on her back, and she'd swapped her dress for a more summery outfit, and he wondered how she managed to stay so untanned.

“- You're late, Ichigo.

- I'm sorry, we had a problem.

- So you need a roommate?

- If you don't mind.

- Visit and let me know afterwards.”

With a fluid movement, she swivels to accompany them to a small house, with a terrace, something traditional and modern at the same time. The front door seems abandoned, and she passes through the glass door, the one that leads directly into the kitchen, and into the living room. To the right, a corridor and several doors, and she opened the one furthest back, behind which was a furnished yet empty bedroom. It was pleasant, a bathroom just adjoining the bedroom, the rest was her corner.

“- Ichigo said you needed an office, there's an unused room just across the hall. The rest is my stuff. If you can't find me in my room, I'll be right across the hall.”

A nod, and she indicated that if he felt like it, he could live here. And he'd agreed, it would be nicer than putting up with Matsumoto's drinking parties. The blonde didn't seem to mind his somewhat forced flat-sharing, on the contrary, she tended to do a lot of things, taking on more provisions. She often asked him what he felt like eating and drinking. And even when he ran off, she didn't ask any questions, just watched him go, telling him to be careful. Hitsugaya had never really gone for a walk around the house; they had their own schedules, each on their own, and it suited her completely. When he went to the Soul Society for weeks, she still didn't ask any questions, just smiled at him when she saw him around the house. And soon he'd made his mark. There was snow falling timidly when he got home late, the month's mission was going to be a real problem, and it irritated him just to listen to the meeting. Usually, she was never there. Always locked away in her room or office, but this time, a whole pile of electrical equipment was spread out on the kitchen table, and on top of the laptop screen, the summer flow photo was displayed, digitally. The scene was rather mundane, yet breathtaking, and he didn't even seem to notice that she existed, lost in thought, watching the sunset from behind.

“- Ah, you're back? Are you hungry?

- What are these?

- Pictures?

- Of me.

- I asked if you wanted to see them.”

Touched, he looked at her, then at the computer, which she closed, leaving room for him to settle in if he was hungry. And it hadn't even really struck him, the idea that she'd taken so many photos of him, his brows furrowing, but she just has a laugh. The light one that makes him forget life itself.

“- Don't do so much, I'm not selling it on the black chew, no twisted will come to you for strange things.

- I hope so.”

The answer made her laugh again, and his fingers burned, the strange desire to run through it, see what she saw through the lens behind which Mily seemed to be growing. But he said nothing more, and scowled at the urge to open the screen, preferring instead to flee elsewhere, to his room, to start work straight away.

-x-

“- You're really unbearable, you know that?”

Her voice sounded a little raw, and Hitsugaya looked up from his eternal phone, abandoning the very idea of finding a Hollow for half an hour. He'd never heard her raise her voice, so he was surprised, curious as a magpie, and eager to know who the young woman was talking to, he'd come to see, just to be sure. And his blood had made a sharp turn, as he'd seen the frail body recoil, pushed back by the man's hand. The camera, obviously an object of discord, ended its life against the table with a clatter of glass, and he could hear Mily hold back a cry of terror. As if he'd just broken the neck of her favorite duck.

“But you're not well!

- I told you, cut the crap!

- Bullshit?! We're talking about my work!

- Your job? A utopia! You're a good-for-nothing!

- I…”

Anger and rage had overcome the man, and as he raised his arm, a crack as sinister as the camera lens was heard. The captain hadn't thought, he'd just reacted. A cry of pain rang out and the man turned, abruptly. A glint in his eye, the glint of the crazy people of the Eleventh, the glint of those who like to fight. Mocking and treacherous, it didn't even make him shiver.

“I can't believe you live with that loser.

- Don't you dare take it out on him!

- Your boyfriend just broke my arm!

- Because you tried to hit me!

- Maybe if I stab him, you'll change your mind!”

Horror, as he put his money where his mouth was. Mily's heart had almost stopped as she'd screamed. And he hadn't even touched her, his second arm ending like the first in one swift blow. Making him fall with a howl, a mixture of anger and pure pain. And Mily could only bring her fingers to her mouth.

“- Now beat it.”

The next day, Mily apologized, and he simply shrugged. When he returned late in the evening, the camera was there, lying with a crack showing the beast's entrails. And Hitsugaya still didn't know, even when he'd returned to the Soul Society, why he'd had it repaired before leaving. He simply left a note on it: “If he comes back, let me know. I'll take care of it. As a thank you, can I have the photo? The first one you took.” And he'd found it, nicely framed in black, with handmade snowflakes.

“- Captain, what is it?

- You don't see it Matsumoto ? A photo.

- Yes, I can see it… But…

- Don't make excuses for not working. Hurry up and make your report.”

[writerswhy]

On Alicent and religion

So, I came across this Midnight Mass gifset and these two quotes:

He doesn't understand yet that guilt comes to you not from the things you've done, but from the things that others have done to you. -Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace

I would like to be found. I would like to see. Or to be seen. I wonder if, in the eye of God, it amounts to the same thing. As it says in the Bible, For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face. If it is face to face, there must be two looking. -Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace

And since then, I’ve been mulling over Alicent’s relationship with religion for the past few days because if there’s one thing that irks my soul, is when (western) writers write religious women as tradcath bitchy hypocrites (as opposed to religious men who use their religion as some sort of selfless sacrifice), especially when said woman is a victim of abuse. 

Instead of exploring Alicent’s religiousness as a way to cope with the abuse she endures, as part of her socialization and the community and culture she comes from, as a way to validate her innate kindness in a world where she’s surrounded by Machiavellians and careless people who can get away with things she cannot, the show manages to victim blame her by the way they frame her religiousness. That it’s another chain in this patriarchy without ever engaging with the actual patriarchs who actively abuse her on-screen. 

Something else that I want to highlight is that these systems that Alicent faces are faceless and abstract which makes the grief and anger and helplessness nearly impossible to work through. As a result, she ends up internalizing these roles - daughter, wife, mother - and when they contradict each other, or when external forces push and pull her, she ends up blaming and sacrificing herself. (As opposed to a man in Westeros like Aegon - her mirror - who can whore and drink and fight with little consequence, he may even be praised.) 

One day I’m gonna sit down and actually take my time to write these thoughts down, but here are some quick notes that I’m trying to sort through. (Note that it’s difficult for me to reconcile some of these with the Alicent(s) we see onscreen. Cooke is one of the best actors on the show but the writing for her has not been my favorite. I feel like Carey’s Alicent was more cohesive and consistent, so some these points apply more to ep 1-5 Alicent than later on.):

1. The first instance we see of her religiousness comes from a place of love. She visits the sept to feel closer to her mother and shares this with Rhaenyra to help her grieve. She uses her religion to comfort herself and connect with loved ones - living and dead. (Aegon does the same when he hides in the sept under the mother. Did he learn this from her? Did he learn this while studying the Faith of the Seven?)

2. If this greater being meant to comfort her and guide her tells her through its teachings that the very behavior she’s punished for is actually holy and human (that’s it’s right), does it help Alicent feel less alone? And if she has someone to share this belief with, like Criston? 

3. Does she channel the gods when she needs to compromise with who she is and who she needs to be? For example, Alicent was compassionate and loyal to Rhaneyra when defending her claim early on. After Rhaenyra’s betrayal, fearing for her children and honestly, it’s okay if she was offended and felt played by Rhaenyra, when she shows up to the wedding dressed in green, as a Hightower (no longer a dutiful wife), did she draw strength from the mother and father to seek justice for her and her children and to protect her family? 

This third point is so interesting to me because that’s what many real people do in real life everyday. We have to find ways to cope with life and learn how to understand ourselves, our wants, and how we can make them fit in this world. Obviously you don’t need religion to do this, but many do and in my community, religion is what keeps us grounded yet hopeful. Some of us live lives where if it were not for their religion, they’d feel less human under the systems that dehumanize them.

[derekfoxwit]

The Best Picture Oscar My Way (1951-1979)

Here is Part 3 of my “Best Picture My Way” series. The last two are found here. My stipulations can be found in Part 1.

For convenience sake, I’ll relay this message. For Best Picture, I’m only gonna list the nominated producer for newly added films (here’s the Wikipedia page for the rest). I will mostly go with the ones credited as “produced by” or “p.g.a.” (if the latter is shown) on IMDB as the nominees. Limit is five.

Also, if you’re wondering why there are more years listed here than the other two, that’ll be answered in the next part.

1951

Rashomon - Minoru Jingo

Ace in the Hole - Billy Wilder

A Place in the Sun

Strangers on a Train - Alfred Hitchcock

A Street Called Desire

1952

High Noon

Forbidden Games - Robert Dorfmann

Singing in the Rain - Arthur Freed

Moulin Rogue

The Quiet Man

1953

Roman Holiday

From Here to Eternity

Shane

The Big Heat - Robert Arthur

The Stalag 17 - Billy Wilder

1954

On the Waterfront (still)

Rear Window - Alfred Hitchcock

The Caine Mutiny

Dial M for Murder - Alfred Hitchcock

Johnny Guitar - Nicholas Ray

1955

Marty (still)

The Night of the Hunter - Paul Gregory

Rebel Without a Cause - David Weisbart

The Long Grey Line - Robert Arthur

Mister Roberts

1956

Tea and Sympathy - Pandro S. Berman

The Ten Commandments

Giant

The Killing - James B. Harris

The Searchers - Patrick Ford

1957

The Bridge on the River Kwai (still)

12 Angry Men

Nights of Cabiria - Dino De Laurentiis

Witness for the Persecution

The Seventh Seal - Allan Ekelund

1958

Vertigo - Alfred Hitchcock

Mon Oncle - Jacques Tati

Touch of Evil - Albert Zugsmith

Auntie Mame

The Defiant Ones

1959

Ben-Hur (still)

Anatomy of a Murder

North by Northwest - Alfred Hitchcock

Some Like It Hot - Billy Wilder

The Diary of Anne Frank

1960

The Apartment (still)

Psycho - Alfred Hitchcock

Elmer Gantry

The Magnificent Seven - John Sturges

The Alamo

1961

West Side Story (still)

Through a Glass Darkly - Allan Ekelund

The Hustler

Judgment at Nuremberg

Breakfast at Tiffany’s - Martin; Jurow; Richard Shepherd

1962

Lawrence of Arabia (still)

To Kill a Mockingbird

Mutiny on the Bounty

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance - Willis Goldbeck

The Longest Day

1963

8 1/2 - Angelo Rizzoli

The Great Escape - John Sturges

Lillies of the Field

America, America

Cleopatra

1964

Mary Poppins

Dr. Strangelove

My Fair Lady

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg - Mag Bodard

Woman in the Dunes - Kiichi Ichikawa; Tadashi Ono

1965

The Sound of Music (still)

Doctor Zhivago

A Patch of Blue - Pandro S. Berman; Guy Green

Darling

Ship of Fools

1966

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woof?

A Man for All Seasons

The Professionals - Richard Brooks

The Sand Pebbles

A Man and A Woman - Claude Lelouch

1967

Persona - Ingmar Bergman

The Graduate

The Jungle Book - Walt Disney

In The Heat of the Night

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

1968

2001: A Space Odyssey - Stanley Kubrick

Oliver!

Funny Girl

The Lion in Winter

Rosemary’s Baby - William Castle

1969

Midnight Cowboy (still)

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

Z

The Wild Bunch - Phil Feldman

Easy Rider - Peter Fonda

1970

Patton (still)

M*A*S*H

Five Easy Pieces

Love Story

Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion - Marina Cicogna; Daniele Senatore

1971

The French Connection (still)

The Last Picture Show

McCabe & Mrs. Miller - Mitchell Brower; David Foster

A Clockwork Orange

Fiddler on the Roof

1972

The Godfather (still)

The Emigrants

Cabaret

The Heartbreak Kid - Edgar J. Scherick

The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie - Serge Silberman

1973

Cries and Whispers

The Sting

The Exorcist

American Graffiti

Paper Moon - Peter Bogdanovich

1974

The Godfather Part II (still)

A Woman Under the Influence - Sam Shaw

Chinatown

The Conversation

Blazing Saddles - Michael Hertzberg

1975 (kept the same)

One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest (still)

Barry Lyndon

Dog Dag Afternoon

Jaws

Nashville

1976

Rocky (still)

Taxi Driver

Network

Mikey and Nicky - Michael Hausman

All the President’s Men

1977

Annie Hall (still)

Star Wars

The Goodbye Girl

Eraserhead - David Lynch

3 Women - Robert Altman

1978

The Deer Hunter (still)

Heaven Can Wait

Midnight Express

Days of Heaven - Bart Schneider; Harold Schneider

Dawn of the Dead - Richard P. Rubinstein

1979

Apocalypse Now

All That Jazz

Manhattan - Charles H. Joffe

Alien - Gordon Carroll; David Giler; Walter Hill

Kramer vs. Kramer

[korgbelmont]

Wonder Woman: Through A Glass Darkly was an interesting read that sees her return to the land of the living after Afterworlds. Like with the Future State books, it has lead to me adding a couple to the list with the Nubia books.

As a whole this was a good character driven story with Diana figuring out her new place in the world. I do wonder (no pun intended) if Deadman is sticking around during this run on the series. Once Cizko brought in Shining Knight, I did wonder if it was who I believed it to be, and it was. Curious to see how that will all go moving forward.

[glorioustimeswithdrew]

How Can This Be? - part three of a love story

I woke up drenched in sweat.  Upon further inspection, I realized I was actually soaked in blood and that I had pissed myself.  Upon further inspection, I realized it wasn’t my blood.  And it wasn’t my urine.

“She’s escaping,” I heard a serene voice gasp.  Instinctively I searched for the voice and found a dirty old man lying in a pool of blood on the other side of the roof.

“Is this your pee?” I called out to him.

“Down here,” the voice beckoned.  I obeyed and met the gaze of a familiar face.  It was an exotically dressed woman, sort of like a mailman if he dressed exotically and he was a woman.

“Is this your pee?” I shouted at her.  I realized it may not have been appropriate to shout at her since she was littered with bullet holes, but I guess I was in a shouting mood.

“The bad prophet has perished,” she announced peacefully, “But soon I too will perish.”  She was a particularly unattractive woman but had such a calming mein.  I couldn’t place how I knew her until a thought struck me.

“Are you my wife?”

“I am the other prophet,” she wheezed gently.  ”I have been guiding you.  And tonight is your last night.  To fulfill your destiny.  Trust your instincts.”

And with that, she grew very silent and started staring very blankly.  I had never seen a dead person and I didn’t want to stereotype, but I was pretty sure she was dead.  I softly stroked her eyelids shut and whispered into her ear.

“I love you, wife.”

I kissed her on the mouth.  Her mouth tasted like blood and cheese.  I enjoyed cheese sometimes.  Her teeth were almost straight.  But soon I ceased this tomfoolery.  It probably wasn’t appropriate to smooch your wife when you’re soaked in someone else’s urine.

“I will avenge you,” I cried quietly while choking on tears.  The tears felt meaningful.

I looked back toward the dirty old man I had spied before and raced toward him.  His polo was soaked in blood and torn with bullet holes, but I could make out two words upon the breast: Wispy Hills.

I began cackling darkly while crying.  That name was awfully funny.  Wispy Hills.  It made me think of a dancing ghost.  I started to dance myself.

Something snapped within me.  I had fantasized about dancing with this dancing ghost before.  Wispy Hills.  The name of the gas station.  The one that I had destroyed with a grenade.  The grenade given to me by a prophet.  A prophet who looked exactly like…

“My wife?” I exclaimed dumbfoundedly.  I looked back and forth between both bodies, trying to piece things together.  This man must have worked at Wispy Hills.  Could he be the dancing ghost?

I picked myself up and took a few steps forward.  I began crying even more.  I stopped and thought for a moment, tears streaming down my face.  I took a few more steps and cried even more than before.   What was happening?  Was this a symptom of cancer, or was I remembering that scene from Bambi II?

I approached the edge of the rooftop, each step incrementally making me more tearful.  As I reached the landing, I looked down and saw something I had only used once in my life.

I descended the fire escape.  Part of me was wondering why I didn’t just go home, but I had never descended a fire escape before and it was very exciting.  I was crying some wild crazy tears.  I felt like a walking tsunami, which made me feel confused and sexy.

I would have kept descending had I not been distracted.  At this level, there was a window covered by a giant tarp.  Ostensibly there was a giant hole shattered through the window.  I was practically bawling now.  Perhaps I felt bad knowing the effort it took to replace a window.

I ripped off the tarp and broke off the remaining pieces of glass.  I had never seen a window without a window before.  It was like a square hole of magic.

I crawled through the square hole of magic into a room that I felt I had seen before.  There, sitting in a streak of light coming from the hole, sat a chair.  I approached the chair and brushed its seat.  Perhaps a fine ass has sat here, I thought.  I took a deep whiff, hoping to inhale some sweet ass vapors.

Something snapped within me.  I had thought of a fine ass sitting in this seat before. I had sat in this chair before.  The night I broke into my true love’s house.  I had shattered that window.  This was the chair I had been tied to.  I was in her apartment.

My crying had shifted into ultra cry mode.  The last time I had cried this much was—the very night I had been tied up in this room.  Were my tears leading me somewhere?  Like a game of hot and cold?  I walked toward my right.  More crying.  I rounded a corner.  More crying.  I approached the toilet.  Less crying.  I smelt the toilet.  Less crying.  I approached a closet.  I was so physically exhausted from crying that I felt I could die if I cried anymore.

I opened the closet.  I took the first thing I saw and bolted, out of the square hole of magic, down the fire escape.  I ran fast.  I wasn’t sure where I was running but I had to listen to my instincts.  My beautiful wife told me to.

I reached a dock.  A motorboat was tied to it.  I searched the body of water ahead of me and saw a light growing further and further away.  It illuminated another motorboat and the person steering it.  I could only see the back of the head but I would recognize it anywhere.

My true love.

I leapt into the other motorboat and punched it into gear.  I prepared to speed off until I noticed a very troubling obstacle that stood in my way.  The motorboat was tied to the dock.  With rope.  My one weakness.

I cowered in fear.  In shame.  I buried my head into my hands, overwhelmed with emotion and moritifed by my own shortcoming.  I had no tears left to cry.  I lowered my hands from my face and saw the Hello Kitty temporary tattoo I had adorned my left wrist with the day before.

I remembered that time well.  Carefully peeling off the plastic.  Applying the sheet to my wrist ever so gently.  Placing the moist washcloth atop the sheet.  I had been so brave then.  So intrepid.  So resolute.  Those were times of fearlessness, of courage.  Of undying perseverance.

“Never surrender,” I could hear Hello Kitty telling me.  ”You may lose battles, but you’ll never lose the war.”

I clenched my hands into fists.  ”Never surrender,” I echoed.

I raced away on the motorboat, wearing nothing but a thong I had fastened out of the rope.  This was my destiny.

She didn’t hear me sneak up behind her over the sound of her own motor, but she saw me as soon as I swerved right next to her.   I could feel my eyes glimmer at the sight of her.  She tried shaking me off her trail but I carefully stayed next to her.

“Todd!” I cried over the motors and whipping water.  ”The prophets are dead!  The dancing ghost and my wife, dead!”  She wouldn’t face me, her eyes on the watery road.

“Leave me alone!” she begged.  ”My uncle is dying!  I need time to myself!”

I had an urge to feel sympathy, but I couldn’t.  ”Why are you running, Todd?”

“Do you have a secret?” she asked coyly.  ”Is there anything romantic on your mind?  About us?”

I had an urge to feel affection, but I couldn’t.  ”Please, Todd!  Look at my cute thong!”

She suddenly brought her boat to a halt and I followed her lead.  Without warning, she removed her top, revealing a chest that did a fantastic job of relaxing me.  As if that wasn’t enough, she slipped out of her shorts with the same finesse, revealing a thong of her own.  I could feel my thong getting tighter.

“You’re right,” she said sensually.  ”I can’t fight it anymore.  I need your love.  I need you to love me, right now.  I can’t escape from it.”

She’s escaping.

The first words I heard my wife speak replayed in my head.  She’s escaping.  She’s escaping.  Todd was escaping, too.  Todd was escaping.

My destiny was to stop her and—I had.  Here she was, offering her hot bod to my delicious form.  But this couldn’t be it.  Was this the end?

She leaned toward the edge of her boat playfully, her chest drooping out and her eyes full of lust.  I was floating in water but I felt like I was floating on air.  I found myself slowly gravitating toward her beauty.  All my confusion seemed to melt away.  The thoughts, the whims, the spontaneity, the instincts, all seemed to dissolve as I was brought into a much simpler moment.  A moment that didn’t require any idiosyncrasies.  A moment that didn’t call for any uniqueness.  Just a normal, ordinary moment.  

I could feel her breath on my face.  I could feel my rope thong become increasingly tighter.

Something felt wrong.

There was nothing stirring around inside me.

Why was there nothing?

What was my destiny?

I was the chosen one of the good prophet.

The bad prophet was dead.

Who had the bad prophet chosen?

Someone I must be pitted against.

Someone I had to stop.

My true love.

My true love is my enemy?

If we’re enemies, why are we so close to blissful romantic passion?

Is this what Todd wants?

For me to feel happy?

For me to feel careless?

For me to feel empty?

Empty.

I was empty now.

There was nothing to me now.

That was it.

She was chosen to fight for empty

I was chosen to fight against empty.

To defend everything weird.

Because I am weird.

It’s my destiny.

I launched myself backward into my motorboat.  I could see Todd snarl in frustration at this.  I grabbed what I had stolen from her closet: A handheld vacuum cleaner.  I turned it on and held it into the air majestically, her scowl quickly turning to a panicked gape.

“Say hello to kitty for me,” I bellowed.  I hurled the vacuum into her motorboat.  She shrieked loudly and a fantastic swirl of thick grey whirlwinds spun around her, clouding her from view.  There was a bright flash that blinded me.  When my vision restored, she was gone.

Insanity was saved.  I rested and felt some remorse.  I had lost my wife and my true love.  But I had won myself.

I leapt out of the boat and began swimming.  I was wondering if I was swimming toward land.  I was wondering why I left the boat in the first place.  I was wondering whose urine had soaked my clothes.  And I was glad to be wondering.

[damnation-if]

i’ve been having a really atrociously bad time lately so i thought i’d amuse myself by skipping ahead and just. writing something really fun; this is part of a possible scene you Might see like half a dozen chapters from now if you make certain choices and if your mc ends up being pretty close with Heluur asjbgdfg

(REALLY don’t click on this if you want to avoid spoilers)

You can see a few of the Inquisitors beginning to get antsy, shifting back and forth on their feet and exchanging worried glances, as the gentle patter of rain on the church’s steepled roof gradually becomes louder and louder. One or two of them flinch as a sudden crack of thunder rattles the windows, fiery red light turning the lens of stained glass above you into a hellish beacon for a brief moment.

Their leader must be able to see some of your thoughts plainly on the face of your captor, because he glares darkly at you, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. “What? What is it? Speak!”

You laugh at him, the blood leaking from your (//her//) cracked and dehydrated tongue gurgling as the memory of the carnage of that first night replays in your mind.

“You should run,” you tell him, grinning–you’re compelled to tell the truth, after all.

His first instinct is to sneer at you, perfect teeth glimmering as he snorts contemptuously, but after a second or so he seems to realise the same thing, doubt flickering across his features for the first time since you were summoned here. The woman you’re possessing is trying to scream, trying to warn him… but they’ve weakened her too much in order to make you talk, and you ignore her attempts to regain control as easily as you would a tiny insect buzzing around your head.

“You’re going to regret this,” you add, as another lightning strike splits the sky, “but only for a very short time.”

[[And then the earth trembles…]]

Although that doesn’t seem like an extreme enough word to describe the catastrophic upheaval that breaks out, the Inquisitors all crashing to the ground as something gargantuan strikes the earth outside. The sound of it is a phenomenon all of its own, the groaning of the earth so loud that it rattles your (her) teeth, so loud that you can’t even hear the Inquisitors screaming or the screeching of trees being uprooted and structures collapsing, though you //can// sense it, even through your captor’s shattered eardrums.

Before you even have time to wonder what’s going on, the windows explode violently, obliterated by nothing more than the onrushing of air being forced out of a massive space, the wooden pews splintering apart while the door twists in on itself and snaps in half.

Staring at the sky through the smashed circular frame that once held the stained-glass window, your heart begins to beat madly in your chest as a shadow as deep and broad as night itself falls over the church, though not before you manage to spot one single colour–a pearly, iridescent blue.

//Heluur//…

Your mind can barely process what it’s seeing as the church is abruptly ripped in half, a coil of snake tail so large that it could comfortably fit everyone you’ve ever met in your entire life standing on it sweeping the roof and rafters from the crumbling walls like foam before a wave. The monumental scales glitter ferociously in the sudden light as he pulls back, the sound of his impossibly large muscles thundering in the air above you like a mountain moving.

The air screams under the pressure as his tail completes its circuit and the tip comes up over the now-ruined church like a cracking whip, generating a sonic boom so loud and strong that it flattens what remains of the walls into the ground, crushing the Inquisitors below it.

You think this is probably the only time you’ve ever actually seen the //tip// of his tail.

And then suddenly Malkorath is there, though you can’t even imagine how they’re able to move around normally in these circumstances. They rip the manacles loose from the altar and then turn their face upwards, looking no more disgruntled than they might on any other ordinary day.

“Will you get out of here before the gods show up and start a bloody war already?”

[zoros-bandana]

Drunk Sex with Zoro

(NSFW)

Zoro x (y/n) implied to be a female reader

Warning - drunk sex, mentions of alcohol, mention of throwing a glass bottle and breaking

Summary - zoro x female reader, (y/n), drunk sex, female orgasm, mirror sex, male orgasm, creampie

Word count: 1,300

______________________________________________

(Y/n) and Usopp stumble onto the deck in a laughing heap. The crew had a party down in the aquarium bar and it was starting to fizzle out. Knowing you’d never win against Zoro, you challenged Usopp to a drinking match. Both of you had called it a draw as you equally agreed that you couldn’t drink a single drop more.

“As if! There is no way you would get away with that!” You laugh at Usopp as he declares another idiotic plan

“That sounds like a challenge to me” Usopp retorts

“Nami’s going to kill you!”

“She has to catch me first”

“You’re so dead, you know that right. She will show no mercy on you!”

Zoro soon followed you and Usopp on the deck, sipping away at another bottle of alcohol. You look up smiling when you see him, motioning to the man you love to come over to you and Usopp.

“That’s why we have Zoro. He’ll protect us against Nami!”

“I’m not fighting that crazy woman. You’re on your own” Zoro scoffs

He motions for you to stand up, “crows nest?”

You nod, standing up carefully, wobbling a little as you do. You hang onto his bicep for balance and wave back to Usopp. “Good luck with your plan!”

You make it to the bottom of the pole, attempting to climb up but slip, giggling as you do.

Zoro groans grabbing you, hoisting you over his shoulder. You try to protest but he is already climbing up towards the crows nest. He plops you down as soon as he enters, shutting the door behind him. You try and steady yourself and look back over at him.

He gulped down the remains of his alcohol, his good eye never leaving you. It wondered up and down your body almost as if he was seeing you for the first time. A haze of lust burning as he watched you. He quickly ran out of alcohol breaking his eyes off you quickly to check that it was indeed empty. Satisfied at his conclusion he chucked the bottle behind him, a loud clatter of glass shattered rang through the crows nest. He stalked over to you, almost primal, and pushed you up against the wall. His arms out next to your head boxing you in. The hint of lust was still present as he watched you even closer now.

“I need you, (y/n). Right now”

You didn’t have much time to answer before his lips crashed against yours feverishly. His tongue explored your lower lip, pressing himself deeper into your mouth for access. You accept and his tongue danced against yours, the taste of sake mixing with the combination of both of your salivas. You pull back, lifting your dress over your head, followed by your panties. Zoro follows suit, taking off his own clothes and throwing them into a heap. He stands there looking at you, stroking his hard cock, motioning to the floor next to the both of you.

“Lie down for me”

You obey, lying down on the cold wooden floor, him following you soon after. The sensation causes your nipples to perk up and you groan at the cold contact on your back.

He caged you under him on the floor, the smell of sake lingering as he breathed into your ear. You tried to steady your breathing, knowing how easily undone the man over you could make you feel. He started grinding himself up against your wet folds, a low grunt escaping his lips as he did. You tried to match the pace of his grinds, making him chuckle darkly.

“Please, Zoro. Don’t tease”

“You’re so desperate for me to take you right this second, aren’t you”

All you could do was nod.

“Alright then, princess. I’ll give you what you want”

Without a second thought, he thrusted all of himself deep into you. You cried out, gripping the skin on his back. The stretch of him inside you felt almost dream like. It hurt at how thick he was stretching you out, making your vision go foggy, but at the same time, feeling so full of him was so deliciously wonderful. He gave a moment for you to adjust, watching your face for any sign of hesitation, before slowly sliding out, almost to the tip. Another low grunt escaped him, his eyes closing tightly as he tried to keep himself from pounding you like an animal. He inched in slowly, his frame sturdy above you. You wrap your legs around him, “mmm, more. I need more of you. Please”.

How he could deny such a polite request?

He began to hammer himself in you mercifully. Your cries echo the room as his pace gets quicker and quicker until you start to space out, not knowing whether he was going in or out of you.

With every sharp thrust against the floor, the deeper inside you he went. Each snap creating a loud thud against the wooden floor that you were sure the rest of the crew could hear loud and clear.

He leaned down and began to suck on your nipples hungrily. His tongue flicking over the bud making you arch your back in pleasure. His attention moves from one bud to the other, sucking and nipping at it gently.

As you felt your orgasm nearing you tried to grab onto him to ground yourself. His back. His arms. The nape of his neck. Anything you could get your hands on. He knew you were close. He adjusted your leg up around his arm, hooking it over to allow himself to go deeper still. Something you didn’t even know was possible. You feel the growing warmth in the small of your stomach, your head leaning back, your eyes shutting tight.

“Mm” he grunted, a lewd pop escaping him as he let go of your nipple from his mouth. He pulled your face down to look at him. “I want you to look at me when you cum. I want to see you fall apart”. His hand moved from your face down to your swollen clit, rubbing large circles with his thumb. A loud rippling moan escaped your lips when you finally snapped, your body seizing as you looked up at the man you loved so dearly. You continued to squirm under him as he pounded you hard through your orgasm, his pace never wavering.

As you come down from your orgasm he wraps you around him, lifting you up off the floor. He walks you over to the mirror that stood by the workout equipment in the side of the room. It was dark, but the moon lit enough to see your bodies connected in the reflection.

You watched hazily as his length moved in and out of you, his arms wrapped around your waist thrusting you down onto him. It was almost hypnotic watching him pound away into you like this, his head tilt back, his eyes shut, brow furrowed. His lips slightly parted, dragging out low groans as you continued to clamp down around his throbbing cock. The way your bodies moved as one started to grow that familiar warm feeling in your stomach again. You look back over at Zoro, “mmm, gonna cum again”.

He opened his eye, looking down at you, moving you over to his weights bench. He lies you down, your legs hooking over his shoulders as he stood at the end of the bench pounding hard into you again. You grab onto his arm, your other hand going down to rub your clit sending you over the edge again. As you cum this time, Zoro leans down, pressing a hard kiss against your lips, muffling you as you moan out in delight.

“Ugh, I’m gonna finish” he mumbles against your lips, his thrusts beginning to get sloppy. You start trusting up against him to help him finish, and with a few steady thrusts he shoots ropes of his warm cum deep inside you.

He peels you off the bench and sits down on the floor, his cock still buried inside as you wrap yourself around him. You lean your head in the crook of his neck and shut your eyes. He traces light circles on your back and you chuckle.

“Maybe I should challenge Usopp to drinking more often”

“Mmm, that’s if Nami doesn’t kill him first…”

[why-i-love-comics]

Wonder Woman #783 - "Through a Glass Darkly III" (2022)

written by Michael W. Conrad & Becky Cloonan art by Marcio Takara & Tamra Bonvillain

[wondertrevcentral]

I’ve imagined this moment so many times. About what I’d tell you... but now that it’s here. Now that you’re here... I reckon I don’t know what to say. Wonder Woman #783: Through a Glass Darkly written by Michael W. Conrad & Becky Cloonan, art by Marcio Takara

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 3

Summary: While his bride is exacting her plans from the very first day in Little Palace, the Darkling finds he has a soft spot for the enemy.

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, angst

Part one // Part two

=================================

The last thing Y/N expected upon waking up was to wake up alone. Spreading out in the bed, she huffed a loose strand of her hair off her face. Narrowing her eyes, she stared up at the canopy with her wicked husband on her mind.

After the way he had acted the night before, she found herself wondering what game he’s playing. They were meant to be married in paper only, yet he seems to have a possessive streak that extends to her as well. A part of her wasn’t sure if he truly had a shred of decency within considering he didn’t take advantage of their marital status, but the other part of her wasn’t easily swayed. That part of her remained defiant as it was forged in a fire the Darkling set. Intentionally or not, his actions have damaged her before they ever even met and she wasn’t very forgiving.

Opening the door, unannounced, strolled in the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen. Her long, auburn hair was perfectly styled and framed her face without obscuring an inch of her stunning beauty.

Genya, she realized. Even on the other side of the fold, Y/N knew of the empresses’ tailor.

Large, amber eyes fix on Y/N who slowly sat up. She stared at Genya without shame, admiring her appearance.

“Well, from what the general told me, I expected I’d have more work on my hands.” Genya huffs, her hands on her hips as her lips form a thin line.

“I have nothing wrong with me”, Y/N defends, graciously getting out of the bed that was far too comfy considering who she shared it with. “And where is the general?” Raising her eyebrow, Y/N folded her arms. No matter where he disappeared to, she couldn’t let him wander too far in case he tries to break their agreement and attend a meeting alone.

Humming, Genya didn’t try to hide her curiosity as she looked Y/N up and down. “Are you sure you don’t need my services?”

Glancing at the door, Y/N saw the servants waiting in front for a command. “Leave us”, Y/N waves them off, swiftly closing the door behind them. Her eyes settle on a seemingly startled Genya who cocks her head to the side.

“Interesting. So you do need me?”

Inhaling deeply, Y/N nods. Coming closer, her eyes remain on Genya’s whose gaze drifts at first. Once Y/N stopped before her, their eyes met.

“I need you, but not as a tailor.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Genya steps back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N licked her lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you hate the emperor and you’d do anything to make sure he never lays a hand on you?”

Genya’s nostrils flare, her lips drawing back between her pearly whites. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m loyal to my emperor.”

“I know”, Y/N reaches for her hand, “I’m saying if your loyalties shifted, I’d make sure that fat fuck died in agonizing pain.”

Yanking her hand out of Y/N’s reach, Genya stepped back with wide eyes.

Gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip, Y/N wished she was more tactful. Hearing of Genya and her fate, she assumed she’d gladly ally with her in this fight. Not only does she need Genya on her side to fight against Kirigan, but the emperor as well. Genya would have been an ideal ally if only she was willing to hear her out. But she should have waited, befriended the Grisha. She should have been more tactful.

“Does the general know of the treasonous plans you speak of?”

Chuckling in disbelief, Y/N shakes her head, “Do you truly believe I’d be breathing if he did?”

Pursing her lips, Genya turned her back on Y/N, contemplating all the possibilities that could stem from her decision.

“It’s a lot, I know, but I am here with a few secrets of my own.” Y/N takes a step closer, her hand clasping Genya’s shoulder as a show of support. “I realize you barely know me, but we can change that now.”

“How?” Genya whispers, more to herself than Y/N who released a shaky sigh.

“By revealing a secret that would be lethal for me if you shared it with anyone.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Genya’s eyes narrowed at Y/N who felt genuine, more than anyone had been since the day she arrived in the Palace. Despite the initial mistrust, Genya nods.

The guards stationed outside of Y/N’s room only heard a loud gasp behind closed doors, unaware that very gasp was a start of a friendship that would define Ravka’s future.

Meanwhile, the Darkling had spent the morning out in the fields. Riding his favorite horse usually served as a way to distract his mind from ongoing worries, but it had no such effect today. No amount of speed or distance could possibly erase the feeling of Y/N’s hand on his body, much less of her body pressing against him.

He behaved as a pious man, an honorable gentleman with self-restrain of a saint. If he could, he’d have taken her without regrets, but he never crossed that line and doing so with a woman meant to be his wife would set him on a path of no return – of true evil.

The Darkling may have done some heinous things, but they were never without reason. If he had done anything against her wishes, he’d be beyond redemption and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth every time he imagined himself losing his mind around her long enough for her to turn him into the villain she sees him as.

Another thing he’s decided to do is break the rule he knew she expected him to uphold – sleeping in separate chambers was the worst thing for them now. He had to be in her bed every night, regardless if she wanted to let him between her legs or not. He wouldn’t force her, that much would be true, but he wouldn’t sleep in his own room anymore. The room they were given last night would be the one he goes to, stumbles to, crawls to, in order to fall asleep beside her. And though it’s a risk as he could easily find himself with his throat cut, he refused to back down.

Dismounting, he headed to the map room where his subordinates waited for further instructions regarding the war.  

“Shall we start?” The Darkling tossed his riding gloves on the desk as he looked at his people. A new face caught his attention, making him do a double take until his dark skies narrowed at her.

“Now that you’ve arrived”, Y/N stands, smiling sweetly. “I believe we can present to you what we’ve discussed while you were off on a joy ride.”

There’s nothing sweet about her, Darkling realizes. Even her smile is coated in honey but laced with poison.

 He licked his lips, “Well, if you want my opinion-“

“I don’t”, she stood her ground, “I have my own.”

Chuckling darkly, he leans forth on the table. His nostrils are flared, his hands gripping the edges until his knuckles turn white. “And what exactly is that?”

“We agreed on having the First army general having a vote in the decision making process as you all do, and since I’m his proxy, I’ve decided you will no longer use humans as canon meat.”

Gliding the tip of his tongue over the inner side of his teeth, he stared at Y/N as if she were made of glass he had every intention on shattering. That would be a mistake – glass is only brittle until it breaks, the shards can cause more damage.

“We will train Grisha to protect humans and humans will use their weapons to protect the Grisha in a more effective manner with the emperor’s gold.”

“Gold?” Kirigan says through gritted teeth as she approaches him, her hands behind her back and he has no doubts she’s stashed a weapon in them and the blue kefta she wore. He’d tell her to take it off and never wear one since she’s but a human, yet as his wife, she was entitled to a kefta. Besides, she looked like a dream in one.

“The emperor agreed to fund the First army’s armory during breakfast”, she smirks, lifting her head up to maintain eye contact.

“Get out”, he grumbles.

Raising her eyebrow, she giggles, “Are you that incapable of admitting I may have opinions and capabilities with potential to do better than the ones you brought before the emperor?” Hardening her gaze, she cups his cheek so tenderly he felt a shiver run down his back. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“GET OUT!” He turns to the others, watching them scramble to leave before he unleashes the darkness everyone feared. Once the last one left, the door slamming behind them, Kirigan locked his eyes on hers.

“Don’t ever try to get inside my head”, he snarled, slamming her against the door. As his heartbeat echoed in his ears, they stayed there with his grip crushing her wrists, keeping them pinned to the wall.

She didn’t breathe, trying to guess his next move. There was a risk she’d push him over the edge and she quite liked herself in one piece, so she waited – waited for him to move first despite the aching pain in her wrists. Releasing a shuddered breath, her chest deflates.

Finally, his eyes soften as he realizes he might have scared her and while he’d usually triumph, he found no satisfaction in being rough with her. He imagined himself releasing her from his grip, cupping her cheeks and asking for forgiveness, but the way she refused to blink made him unsteady. Yet he whispered still, “It’s too dark for you.”

Squinting, Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line. She easily breaks out of his grasp, shoving him against the wall with her forearm on his chest. Trailing her hand lazily towards his neck, she tightens her grip, lightly choking him. Pulling him down, she stands on her tiptoes as well. Leaning in, her lips brush against his ear; whispering, "Darling, you may wield darkness but you don't know the meaning of dark."

Stepping away, she raised her chin defiantly and he wished he could grasp it and pull her lips to his until her jaw relented and her mouth opened for his. And that’s when he realized – why would he hold back?

Her eyes drifted up to his and she knew his resolve was gone. His lips captured hers in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. There was something gentle about it, regardless of the brute strength he used to push her into the door. She felt the door rattle against her back as he shifted, pressing her into it, taking her face between his hands.

When he kissed her, she felt as if she were losing his mind. She couldn’t comprehend why her hand wasn’t holding her dagger at his neck, or why she allowed herself to moan into the kiss as if he had brought her pleasure.

Every thought she once had evaporated as the darkness of lust drew her in, bending all her rules, stealing the last trembling bit of restraint. She tries to pull away, to stand firm and turn away his affection if she could call it that.

“No”, he whispers, bringing her lips back to his.

And when he kissed her again, she wasn’t sure she wanted her sanity back. She slid her hands under his kefta, wrapping arms around him to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise set every inch of her skin on fire.

Opening her eyes, they widen as she notes his are closed as he lost himself in their passionate exchange. A single intelligent thought formed inside her mind, sparking others to appear as well. Playing with fire is her favorite hobby, but this wasn’t a game – not when she was losing.

Pushing against him with all her might, Y/N gasped for breath as he stumbled back. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she narrowed her eyes at him. Lifting her chin, Y/N met his gaze decidedly. After all, she couldn’t avoid her marital duty if she allowed him to kiss her like that. He may not be an old, unattractive, undeveloped man she had imagined in her mind, but Y/N still wasn’t quite keen on giving herself to him. She had kept her maidenhood all those years only to lose it to a man who shall never be more to her than a husband in name only. She’d never love him…she promised herself that. She never broke a promise before and he would not be the one who changes that.

“Don’t touch me”, she spoke through clenched teeth.

He looked at her in surprise. There was hatred in her enchantingly cold eyes, her cheeks flushed red. If possible, her anger made her even more beautiful. Never had he felt such a raging desire.

His hand went around her neck, his thumb digging into the soft flesh. “You are my wife,” he said in a low voice. “You are mine!”

“I believe we have already covered that. I’m not yours and I never will be.” Y/N told him with such spite, such determination that he let her go immediately.

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?” Darkling’s voice softened, his eyes holding more understanding than she liked. Had he acted unreasonably and taken her against her will the night before or now, she’d at least be right about his horrid heart and vile mind…but he didn’t. Instead of being a savage she imaged him to be, he offered her gentle understanding.

“I’m sorry I was rough. I’ll try and be gentler. If you don’t want to go through with this, I won’t force you.” Running a hand across his face, he leaned back on the table. “I want you…really fucking bad, but I won’t take you against your will.” The Darkling sighed as she stared at him with her doe eyes, seeing confusion pass her features.

“Good to know where you draw your line. Murder – good, rape – bad.”

Rolling his eyes, he squinted as he looked at her again, “We can’t sacrifice Grisha for your men.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Y/N could hardly believe he just forgot the kiss they shared. In seconds, he crossed his arms and the lustful look was gone. The man before her was a general once more, and though he tried to hide it, he was still a man who had a hard-on despite the subject change. She wished she could ignore the evidence his blood is still boiling for a touch, more so because he was fucking right – he wasn’t small at all.

“If you keep wasting human lives, we will stop defending yours entirely.”

Raising an eyebrow, his face hardened, “We’ll kill you.”

Scoffing, she raises her eyebrow to mimic him. “It’s you or Volcra or the Druskelle and Fjerdans or Shu. We end up dying either way.” Stepping closer, she folded her hands behind her back. “We can work together and lessen our losses or you can do it your way and have a massacre instead.”

In less than a minute, her eyes turned from ice to flame and he found himself captivated by the change.

“I’ll agree on one condition.”

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. Was that expression fear? The possibility struck him as so humorous he nearly laughed out loud.

“State your terms”, she snapped, refusing to concede when she’s close enough to do something she’s wanted for years – to protect the soldiers used as a shield for those who are perfectly capable of protecting themselves.

“I plan on getting to know you better”, he leaned in closer. He raised his hand, cupping her cheek just as he imagined – tenderly, enough to show dominance but not quite capable of harming her. “If you let me.”

Heart fluttering inside her chest had made her doubt herself. She stared at him, stubborn and unrelenting. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Chuckling, Kirigan drops his hand, noticing her relax as he steps back. With a tightness in his chest, he looked back at his wife, so small, so alone and still so fierce. He would never admit it, but he had already a sliver of love for her and knowing she did not had hurt him.

His smile falls and he nods. Clearing his throat, “How about we go for a ride in a few days?” He took her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze, looking up at her weary eyes.

“Does that mean I have the bed all to myself?” Raising her eyebrows expectantly, she squeezed his hands right back, as bold as ever. Genya seemed to trust him, yet Y/N couldn’t understand why. He’s too charming to be trustworthy.

Using his grip on her hand as an advantage, he tugged her closer to him and she found herself between his legs as he remained, leaning against the table behind him. His eyes flicker to her lips, “Better find more pillows, my wife. We wouldn’t want you to be the big spoon again, would we?”

With that, he turned them so swiftly, she had barely blinked as he pulled her up on the table and she gasped in surprise. Heart beating fast, she nearly gripped his kefta and claimed his lips, but he leaned in on his own accord and she had no need for brutish behavior.

The tip of his nose brushes hers and just as she begins to lean in, he takes a step back. Winking, he takes another step back.

“If you want a taste, you’ll have to ask.”

Watching his retreating figure in shock, she remained perched on the table with her mouth open and her eyes wide.

Covering her mouth, Y/N shakes her head. Her mind was right, the heart cannot be trusted.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9​ @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x​ 

PART 4