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screampied · 5 months

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JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆

synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu

an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge

it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.

the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.

“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.

what…?

you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”

your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”

“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.

you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”

“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…

his fucking tattoos.

“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.

“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”

it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.

your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.

“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.

he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”

“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.

baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.

that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.

“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.

before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.

“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”

“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”

“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”

he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”

“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”

that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.

“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.

you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.

“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”

he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.

“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”

“so.”

“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.

geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.

“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”

you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.

pulsing, itching, aching.

“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”

this guy.

“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.

geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.

“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”

“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot.

“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips.

and you did.

he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything.

so, what did you do?

you silenced him…with a kiss.

he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking.

his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit.

you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him.

he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.

geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold.

“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”

geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it.

when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered.

he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…

it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit.

“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”

“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”

you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second.

“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”

“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”

you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”

“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”

“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm.

geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.

his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly.

“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?”

“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”

he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”

“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”

“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat.

he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”

….

help him break out?

all this so you could orgasm….

you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.

you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job.

the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore.

“promise..”

“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”

your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…”

scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair.

“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”

you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.

he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off.

“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”

“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you.

“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”

the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were.

“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh.

“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”

and you let out a soft gasp.

geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”

“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”

“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”

you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance.

“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”

“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.”

he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you.

his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…

the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen.

“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge.

his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool.

a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression.

“may i move, officer?” he snickers.

“p-please.” you whimpered.

“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink.

once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him.

geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will.

he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance.

geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”

“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”

“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”

he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”

he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”

“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.

you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”

his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.”

geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.

the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist.

moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door.

right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips.

“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”

shit.

you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say.

“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”

“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”

“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”

you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”

by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.

you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess.

“y-yeah, we are.”

“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”

geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers.

“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”

“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you.

geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”

you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”

“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you.

“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”

oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick.

“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”

“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled.

geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks.

“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”

you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say.

once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting.

“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”

you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind.

you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression.

“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?”

“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind.

he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”

“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”

you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”

“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.

yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”

#★vegasbaby.#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #jjk x you #jjk smut #anime smut #anime x reader #female reader #tw sex #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut

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user00003123 · 1 year

Text

NOW LIVE: BUILDING A BOND feat. t. fushiguro

SUMMARY: when your parents get you a job as a psychologist at the prison, you don't expect to take such an interest in one of the inmates.

CONTENT WARNINGS: inmate! toji! x psychologist! fem! reader, smut, mdni, modern prison au, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, clit play, fingering, finger sucking, nipple sucking, slight choking, toji is kind of degrading, oral (f. & m. receiving), p in v, cow girl, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), panty stealing, nicknames (Doc, slut, dirty girl, nasty girl, good girl) wc: 4,117

"I'm sorry—what?"

"Look sweetie, you said it yourself. You went to school so that you could help people, and what's more helpful than being a psychologist for the prison, hm?" your mother sat next to you on the couch one arm around your shoulders and the other holding your hand.

"Your mother is right sweetie, this has been your dream since you were a little girl," your father speaks up from his desk.

"Working at a prison was not my dream," your arms are folded across your chest. "When I got my degree, I was thinking more of a cute office where I talk to children and teens to help them. Not grown men who did who knows what to get themselves in a prison," you slightly yell getting off the couch and standing in front of your father's desk.

"I get it sweetie, but if I didn't think you were the right one for this position, I wouldn't have volunteered you," your father gets up from his desk and walks over to you. He places his hands on both your shoulders, sighing, "You are the smartest, most compassionate young woman I've ever met. I know it's not the job you wanted, but maybe it's the job you needed."

Maybe he was right, I mean these men weren't emotionally stable and it could benefit them to talk to you.

The next day you were dressed in a black pantsuit with black flats, making sure to not have any flashy jewelry on. When arriving you had to go through extensive security, to make sure you didn't have any contraband, or anything harmful that could be used against you.

"You're the new psychologist aren't you?" A tall man with white hair asks you as you're leaving the security office. He was also dressed in all black, but with a vest that had police stitched on it in white.

"What gave it away?" you ask with a raised eyebrow. He tilts his head eyeing your outfit.

"You're cheerful being here," he laughs, hands now on the vest with the many pockets, and you notice the gun on his hip.

"I'm just trying to be hopeful that I can help these men in some way," you say running your hands down your shirt.

"I admire that, hope is not something that people have in here. Maybe you'll change that," you give him a small smile. "I'm Gojo, by the way. I'll be your security guard for the day."

"Just the day?" you follow him down a long hallway.

"Like me already?" you roll your eyes with a light laugh. "I'm messing with ya' sweetheart. Each day every guard has a different place we'll be in the prison. Mine is sadly guarding solitary the next couple days."

You hum in response and continue to follow him until you're in the medical bay. You meet the nurses, desk attendants, and other guards before Gojo takes you to your office. You give him a thanks as you put you're bag down looking around the room.

Empty white walls, a two-person cream-colored sofa, and a white desk with a matching chair. Very bland, but anything else added and it could've been used against you. Sitting at the desk you start to take a look at the files of the patients who would be visiting you. Some have a tragic back story, other don't, and you started to feel a bit overwhelmed. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself down just as a knock was heard on the door.

"Come in!" Gojo comes in with a long black-haired inmate who has an unidentifiable expression on his face.

"Cuffs on or off?" Gojo questions. You think on it for a second then tell him off. Letting the inmates not have their cuffs on shows you have some type of trust in them and helps build the bond for them to trust you.

"Behave yourself, Geto," Gojo starts to walk out of the office before turning to you again. "Remember, just yell or push the panic button and I'll come right in."

"Thanks," you smile at him before motioning for Geto to have a seat on your couch. He does and the two of you talk, he opens up quite a bit about how he feels about him being in here and why he's even in here in the first place. It's a great start to your day and every patient after Geto is pretty up or down. Either they wanna talk or they give you a hard time, but it's only the first day.

Your last patient comes in while you're fixing all the files on your desk, clearing his throat to let you know of his presence. You're eyes trailed up his body, black uniform pants, black wife-beater, his big beefy arms decorated in black ink, and a cocky little smirk plastered on his face. You look down at your schedule to see his name and you give him a smile then tell Gojo it's okay to take off his cuffs.

"You sure sweetheart, I'm a dangerous man," his eyes are staring right into yours, his smirk never leaving his face. Gojo leaves when you give him a nod and you gesture to the sofa for the new patient to sit down.

"Is that how you see yourself, Toji? Dangerous?" He leans his body back relaxing into the seat with a sigh.

"Of course, I do, Doc. I've hurt people, had blood on my hands. I know I'm dangerous," his eyes are watching you as you write down in your notes, before looking at him again.

"Are you proud of that?" you question tilting your head.

He puts a finger on his chin like he was thinking before letting out a laugh, "I am actually." Standing up from the sofa, he walks over to where you're sitting, leaning over you and the desk, "I did what I had to do to protect the ones I love. I had my reasons."

Before you could even respond, he was walking out the door, "Thanks for the session, Doc."

Re-reading Toji's file, you notice that it says he has a son and a daughter and was married before the incident. Your heart sinks thinking about how his kids must feel not having their father, even more so how Toji must feel not being able to be with his kids. He's right, he has his reasons for doing what he did, even as violent as it was, it was for the people he cared about.

The next few days Toji didn't show back up to the office, and honestly, you were worried about him. That Thursday when Gojo was your security guard again you ask him about Toji.

"He seems angrier than normal, and he hasn't said a word since he left your office on Monday," you were looking around the yard, spectating how the inmates engaged with one another or just with themselves. You saw Toji lifting weights in the corner of the yard, he was by himself, no one daring to come up and intrude. "Don't dwell too much, he'll come talk to you when the time is right. Just like the rest of these men."

The next day you go through your appointments, some of your patients opening up more than when you first meet them, making sure you tell each of them that you're proud of the progress they're making. You started to pack up for the weekend when it was time for Toji's appointment, knowing he wasn't coming, until a knock at your door startles you.

"Come in!" Toji walks through the door, head high, and another smirk on his face as Gojo walks in behind him, hands holding Toji's cuffed ones behind his back.

"He asked me to bring him." You smile lightly then gesture for Gojo to take off the cuffs before he leaves your office. Toji sits down on the sofa while you lean on your desk, giving him your full attention. Your eyes wandered on his body, seeing a few red marks and some sweat.

"My eyes are up here, sweetheart," you laugh slightly embarrassed, eyes staring right into his.

"I heard you don't work weekends, so I wanted to come talk to you before you left."

"Of course. What is it you would like to talk about?" you ask hand clasped in your lap.

"I want to apologize for my actions on Monday. I am not the talking type and never really have been, probably why my marriages haven't worked out." He whispered the last part, and you jotted that down in your head. "You were just doing your job and I don't need to make it any harder."

"I appreciate you apologizing Toji but know you didn't have to. I don't understand what's it like to be here, but I know that this environment isn't the best one to make you feel like you want to open up about your feelings," you smile and it warms his heart. "You don't have to come every day if it feels like too much for you. We can start at whatever pace it is you want if you even want to come to talk to me."

"Thanks, Doc, and I'm fine with meeting every day. I'm hoping that talking to you will help me get on parol so I can see my kids." He's being sincere and you admire that.

"As long as you make me believe that you've learned your lesson about being in here, I will get you parol, Toji," you give him a genuine smile and he returns it.

"I want to be a better man, for my kids," and for the next couple weeks, he saw you every day. During the first two weeks, he was still having a hard time being completely honest about his feelings, telling you small details about how he ended up here, or about his childhood. You didn't push him though, you didn't push any of your patients. Building trust with them is about letting them learn to trust you at their own pace, letting them open up at their speed, and as long as you give them the time to open up, your job will be easier.

Around the second month of Toji coming in every day, he felt himself become so intrigued with you. Whenever you weren't around, you were all he could think about, your eyes that drew him in whenever he looked at them too long, your legs that he couldn't stop thinking about wrapping around his waist as he pounded into you, and your pretty full lips that he imagines is his hand when fisting his cock late at night in his cell.

It would be a lie if you said you didn't think about him that way either. How could you not? Always having his big beefy biceps on display when he wore a wife beater. His uniform pants hung low on his hips and as soon as he sat down they were tight and you could see the print of dick against his thigh.

You always sat behind your desk when you met with your patients, so it was no different when it came to Toji, which made it easier to hide the fact that you were clenching your thighs together to release the tension you felt between your legs. Then one day as you were about to sit down at your desk Toji asks if you would sit next to him instead.

"I don't think it's appropriate to be so close to one of my patients," you smile and you could see a small pout on his face.

"Don't you want your patients to feel comfortable and feel you are building a bond with them?" He tilts his head and you laugh, knowing what he's doing. You grab your notebook and pen and sit at the other end of the couch, crossing one leg over the other. He smiles at you and places both his hands in his lap, hinting he won't try anything.

"We haven't gotten into your past relationships. Would you like to talk about your ex-wives or anyone you've been involved with?"

"Like people I've fucked?" he smirks and you shake your head looking down at your notepad.

"If that has anything to do with the person you are today or why you ended up here then sure."

"Sure it does, I mean how else would I have gotten two kids in this world without fucking some pretty girls," you rolled your eyes. "You have any kids, Doc?"

"No, I don't."

"Why not?" he questions.

"Toji, we're here to talk about you—”

"We're building a bond," your body leans back on the sofa letting out a sigh.

"I'm just not the motherly type," you tap your pen lightly against the notepad.

"So you just have casual sex then, nothing serious?" you can see the small smirk on his face.

"What does my sex life have to do with you?" you put your pen down and look at him.

"I'm just curious, Doc, wanna get to know you," he's grinning, trying to get in your head.

You raise your eyebrow, "Asking me about sex is getting to know me?" All he does is nod his head and you roll your eyes mumbling a 'fine.'

You turn your body towards him still leaning against the couch with your legs crossed, "Yes, I just have casual sex."

"Is it.....good?"

You laughed a little at the question, "I mean sometimes it is, other times not so much."

"What's the kind of sex you like?" his lip was between his teeth, he's just curious.

You tapped your chin with your finger in thought, "I don't know, I like it all." You looked at Toji, eyes scanning over his muscular arms, then down to his pants where you could see him getting hard. "Most of the time, sex just depends on the mood that's set."

"So what's the mood that's set right now?" your eyes widened at how forward the question was, clearing your throat as you looked away from him.

"Toji—"

"You know you want to, Doc," he slides his hand from off his lap and onto your leg. He was running his fingers back and forth on your smooth skin, your body felt hot and a shock of electricity ran up your back. You knew this was wrong, so so wrong, but it just felt so right.

He leaned his bigger body closer to yours, lips ghosting right over the shell of your ear as his hand pushed off your notepad and pen, making its way under your tight pencil skirt and rubbing his fingers over your panties, "Such a dirty girl getting all wet for an inmate."

You did feel dirty, about to fuck your patient in your office of a prison, it was disgusting, but your pussy has never been wetter at the thought. You turned his head towards you bringing him into a heated kiss. His tongue was exploring your mouth as his fingers were sliding your panties over to rub circles on your clit. Moaning in his mouth, he smirked against your lips, "Lemme eat your pussy, Doc."

He stood up from the couch, fingers still massaging your clit as his lips are still entangled with yours. A string of saliva connects your lips as he bends down in front of you, both hands grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart. He can see a wet spot on your panties, and swipes his tongue across the spot, briefly tasting your bitter juice and letting out a moan, "Didn't think I'd miss eating pussy, but God I did."

He pulls your panties down and off your legs making sure to slide them in his pockets, then uses two fingers to spread your folds apart, exposing your glossy pussy to the cold air in your office, "You have such a pretty pussy, Doc."

Letting out a needy whine when you feel his breath against your cunt, it causes your aching hole to clench around nothing, Toji's eyes widened at the sight, "Toji... please just eat my pussy!"

He smirks at your whining, leaning his head down to kiss your clit, "Your such a nasty girl..." His tongue slid down your folds, breathing in your scent, "acting like a slut for an inmate." Your head is leaned back against the couch, moaning at the contact from his warm tongue. His tongue is circling your clit before he's closing his lips around it, sucking the nub into his mouth.

"Mmm—Toji!" your moans are music to his ears as your thighs are squeezing around his head. He's so messy, practically making out with your pussy, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs, "Mouth feels....so good." Your fingers are tangled in his black hair, as your rutting against his face, and he's moaning at your taste.

He slides one hand up your body, tapping his fingers on your lips, and you open your mouth allowing two of his thick digits to sit on your tongue as you suck on them, "You gotta be quiet dirty girl, don't want us to get caught, huh?" You nod your head, legs lightly shaking around his head, as he continues to lap at your messy cunt.

Your clit feels tingly as you feel a hot feeling of pleasure bubbling in your lower stomach, your toes are curling, and Toji's name is rolling off your tongue like a song. He laughs lowly, the vibration sending a shock up your spine, "Aw, Doc, you gonna cum already?"

His eyes are looking right into yours as you nod your head frantically, still sucking on his fingers. Your roll your hips into his face, chasing your orgasm, fingers gripping onto his hair, and right as he starts flicking his tongue against your clit once more, your legs are shutting around his head as your back arches off the couch, "Fuck, fuck—Toji I'm cumming!" He continues to slurp at your cunt, getting you through your orgasm, hand rubbing your thigh soothingly.

"God, your pussy tastes so good," he smiles wide as he's licking his lips, and removes his fingers from your mouth. You steady your breathing as you open your eyes seeing his dopey grin.

"You know for you to have been in here for 5 years, you're good at eating pussy," you laugh sitting up on the couch, then bring him into a slow sloppy kiss, letting your hand trail down and rub against the bulge that was in his pants.

"I don't have time for teasing, sweetheart, I'm already on edge from eating your pussy," he groans against your lips.

"Then stand up," he was quick to stand to his feet, your eyes looking right up at him as your sat on the couch. You kiss against this clothed bulge, fanning your breath over it and his head is leaning back.

"Fuck, Doc, just take it out," your hands are pulling down his pants just past his balls, eyes widening at the size of his cock.

"So big," you moan licking the underside of his cock and your eyes are watching his expressions. His lip between his teeth, eyes screwed shut, and his big hand holding the back of your neck. Parting your lips letting just his tip past your lips, tasting the salty pre-cum that was leaking. You swirl your tongue around his tip, then widen your mouth to take more of his length while a hand fondles his balls.

Bobbing your head taking most of his fat cock, he's groaning and bucking his hips into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat making you gag, "Yeah, gag on my cock, Doc." He's watching you with dark, hungry eyes, as breathy, deep moans slip past his lips, he's struggling to keep himself quiet, "Such a good girl, with a filthy mouth."

You moan at his dirty talk, fingers massaging his warm squishy balls, as you relax your mouth deep throating him as best you could. He squeezed the back of your neck pulling you off his cock then leaned down to kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth, "Feel like a fucking virgin 'bout to cum in 2 seconds."

Spitting on his fingers, he rubs your clit, then stuffs two of his fingers in your wet hole, you instantly spread your legs, and moan against his lips, "Tell me how you want me to fuck you, Doc."

"I don't know—mmm—just put it inside me," he's kissing you again before a hand wraps around your neck and he's whispering in your ear.

"Ride this dick," he pulls his fingers out of your soaking cunt, you rise to your feet quickly, switching places with him so he's now sat on the couch. He grabs each of your thighs placing them on the sides of his so you're straddling him, hands on your hips as yours are around his neck.

He guides you down on his length, both of you moaning feeling the stretch, "Fuck, pussy's so tight." Once you're fully sat on Toji's thighs, he doesn't rush you, letting you get used to him, kissing on your neck, then sliding up your sweater to expose your boobs, sucking on one of your nipples.

Your rise your hips until it's just his tip that's in you before sliding back down, taking him fully again. You keep the slow pace of riding him, as his hands are rubbing softly on your hips, lips still sucking on your hard nipple as you moan his name. "Toji feels soo good," you whine head leaning in the crook of his neck.

"How about you speed up for me?" you do as your told, lifting your hips again and then slamming them back down on his thighs. Your ass continues to slap against his thighs, the sound of how of wet you are filling the room. Toji moans in your ear about how wet your pussy is, you can't do anything besides moan his name, so intoxicated with the feeling of him filling you up.

Your legs were starting to give out, Toji could feel you slowing down, so he moved his hands under your ass slamming you down on his cock as he started to thrust up meeting you halfway. Kneading the flesh of your ass before smacking it, you let out a yelp clenching around his shaft and Toji's head fell back against the couch, "Fuck, Doc, pussy so good, you're gonna make me cum already."

He moves one hand to play with your puffy clit, and you moan loud in his ear, making him turn his head and capture your lips in a kiss, shushing you. You grind your hips into his fingers and within a minute your creaming all over his cock, squeezing him with your gummy walls, and he's coming right after you. Lifting you off of him and cumming on your stomach, with a loud moan of your name.

Your forehead is leaning against his as you both calm your breathing down before you're lifting off of him and heading to your desk to grab tissues to wipe off his cum. "For an inmate, your stamina ain't too bad," you laugh fixing your clothes.

"Well if we make this a regular thing, it could get better," he's pulling his pants back up, his eyes glued to you. Before you could respond there was a knock on the door, you both look at each other before he sat back down on the couch and you sitting at your desk.

"Come in!" you yell and Gojo walks in with a concerned look on his face.

"Everything okay? You guys took longer than normal?" Gojo questions arms crossed against this chest.

"Yeah, I was just crying about my past," Toji pouts and Gojo scoffs.

"Yeah right," Gojo leans against the door frame.

"I was explaining to him about my past, and it got a little emotional," you explain. "Building a bond with my patients requires trust on both ends."

"Hm, makes sense," he walks over closer to Toji. "But I'm going to have to break up this bonding moment, all inmates need to be in their cells."

You nod in understanding, and Toji stands up, hands behind his back, so Gojo can put on the cuffs. "Same time tomorrow, Doc?" Toji looks towards his pocket where your pink panties are sticking out with a smirk.

Your eyes widen as you force a smile, "Same time tomorrow."

2K notes · View notes

godsandmonsters505 · 2 years

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The Other Woman | Rick Grimes

(fem!reader)

Summary: Rick consoles in you during troubles with his and Lori's relationship.

Warnings: [NSFW] smut, cheating, swearing, unprotected sex

It wasn't often that rainy spells hit the prison like this, especially since only days earlier you had been out working the farm land in the scorching heat. It took everyone by surprise, and people didn't know what to do with themselves, cooped up inside the walls of the prison all over again.

Tensions had been somewhat high recently, what with Rick and Lori's baby on the way and Glenn and Maggie fighting with each other, so the rainfall didn't particularly come at a convenient time. It wasn't exactly a happy little group bonding activity.

"Okay, pay attention to this part," you say, sat on the concrete floor of the prison with Carl, Rick's young boy. You hold up a semi-constructed origami swan.

"I am!" Carl laughs, working on a messy looking origami swan, but it looks like a swan nevertheless.

"Don't underestimate the skill that origami takes, kid," you chuckle, patting his head. "You might be handy with a gun but this is a whole new world."

He giggles and shuffles impatiently. "Just show me!"

"Fine," you grin. "So you see this part here?"

Carl nods as you point to one of the corners of the paper object.

"You have to fold it like this, in a way that it-"

You're interrupted when you hear your name called.

You turn around and see Rick walking towards you.

"Yeah?" You reply, twisting round to face him as you speak to him.

"I need some help." He states plainly. "Come with me."

"Can it wait, Dad?" Carl asks disappointedly. "My swan is nearly finished. I'm making it for Mom."

You could swear you see Rick wince at the mention of Carl's mother.

"There's time to finish it later, Carl." He drawls. "I need Y/N to come with me for now, though."

"Okay," he sighs. "Promise you'll help me finish later?"

"I promise," you smile, standing up and completing your swan as you do so. You lean over and hand it to him. "Have mine for now. Keep it safe." You wink and walk away, feeling a little guilty for having to leave him.

"What is it that can't wait?" You say to Rick, a little annoyed.

"Electrical problems on the other side of the building."

You nod. "And you needed me? Why not Glenn? He's been sat picking at the walls with boredom all day."

"I'm not in the mood to have my ears talked off." He states bluntly. "You get that more than anyone."

You smile softly to yourself. It's nice to know that Rick has chosen you because he wanted to, not because of convenience or practicality.

Yours and Rick's relationship was a strange one. You undoubtedly had feelings for him, but it felt strange knowing he was a married man. It would be easier for you to manage your feelings if he didn't flirt at times, or create unbearable tension, but he did (whether it was intentional or not). You just had to think of Lori and the baby. Maybe Rick just flirts for fun, he clearly has a life away from you to take care of.

But romantic feelings aside, you were good friends. Neither of you were good at communicating emotions, though, which is why Rick basically admitting he wants you to come fix the electrics with him is a good feeling, whether romantic or platonic. You trusted each other, you got each other and you didn't need words to communicate when facing walkers, problems in the prison or other issues. You like to think that it transfers into your personal relationship as well, but you can't be too sure.

You walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes, your hand instinctively placed on the knife in the holster on your belt in case of danger.

"You're good with him, you know." Rick says, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" You ask.

"Carl." He clarifies. "You're good with him."

"He's a good kid," you smile. "Guess he has a good dad."

He frowns and shakes his head. "He deserves better parents."

You lose the smile on your face in response to his statement. "You know that's not true."

"Lori and I are a mess." He sighs, frustrated. "I'm glad the poor kid has you."

You grab his arm to stop him, and turn him to face you.

"Don't say shit like that." You snap. "I've seen how much you love him. The both of you. Don't let whatever is going on with you and Lori make you think you're anything other than the best father any kid could have."

He runs his hand over his jawline, tense and clearly stressed.

"I can barely be a father to Carl, what happens when I have another kid here?" His eyes water. "Me and Lori are on the brink of divorce, which..." He laughs humourlessly. "How does a divorce even work in the middle of a fucking apocalypse?"

You sigh and look at him intently as he talks to you. This is the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.

"I don't want to leave her, I mean I love her and I want our kid to have parents that are together." You nod understandingly while he explains. "Some stability in this world would be nice. But then every time I look at her I think-"

His voice breaks as he talks and you take his hand and grip it in support.

"I think of Shane. I think of them together I think of what-" he takes a deep breath and straightens his posture. "Of what I did to him. Of what he made me do to him."

He stops talking and looks at you in your eyes. You're not sure what to say and simply gaze at him empathetically, wanting him to know that you care and are here to listen to him.

Suddenly he breaks the eye contact, pulling his hand from yours and briskly walking ahead. You run slightly to catch up with him as he walks and it's clear that he wants to leave the previous conversation behind, so you continue in silence yet again.

After a moment you decide to speak up.

"Before all this," you begin, "I was a-" you pause and laugh a little. "I was a therapist."

Rick turns his head to you and you feel satisfied when you see a miniscule smile on his face, no matter how small.

"Really?" He asks, thinking you're messing with him.

"Really." You assure and he scoffs, entertained.

"Years of training, and probably hundreds of patients...I thought I could be prepared for any situation." You continue. "Turns out a zombie apocalypse takes a toll on a person. I don't know how the fuck to react to any expressed emotion anymore."

You continue walking, and can see Rick's gaze on you out of the corner of your eye as you talk to him.

"I have all the...all the knowledge of what shit means," you say, tapping your temple with your index finger, "but in principle, I'm so lost. I think I'd make the worst therapist possible now."

Rick chuckles and it's a noise that lights up an inexplicably pleasant feeling in the depths of your chest.

"If you met me two years ago," you laugh, "I would've given you some fucking great advice."

"I'd rather just know you're really listening," he admits, "I don't want that generic therapist bullshit." He shoots you a teasing glance and you roll your eyes. "No offense."

"None taken." You say, and think deeply for a moment. "I guess we've all lost certain parts of ourselves, but maybe it makes us better people in the end."

Rick doesn't reply at first, as you arrive at the room you intended to reach.

"That's an optimistic way of looking at it." He says it in a way that leads you to believe he is not fully convinced.

"Maybe optimism is all we have anymore," you exhale. "And that's coming from a die hard pessimist."

Rick opens a cupboard in the corner and pulls out a tool kit while you open the circuit board.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here, Rick." You say.

"Just do what I tell you." He smirks.

"Yes, sir." You laugh playfully.

You help Rick as he guides you through the actions required to fix the electrical problems. When you're both nearly done, he lets you finish the job, and when you do so, some lights on the machine flick on.

"There we go," Rick says.

"Maybe I have a new career ahead of me," you grin, swivelling around to face Rick behind of you, but when you face him, he's not smiling back. "Are you okay?"

His gaze burns through you as you stand there waiting for a reply. There is a look in his eyes that you can't quite place, but then he turns his back to you, breaking the moment.

"Rick?" You're worried when he doesn't reply to your question. You walk up behind him and place your hand on his shoulder. "What's wro-"

You're cut off when he turns around and takes you by surprise, pressing his lips to yours. Before you have time to react, he presses you up against the nearest wall, your top hitching up a little. He removes his lips from yours to observe your reaction and you stare at him longingly for a split second before continuing the kiss yourself, pulling his face into yours passionately.

Months of tension has built up into this heated moment, and at the flick of a switch, it is being released. His hands roam your body before finding a firm grip on your hips, pulling you close to him.

"I've wanted this since I first laid eyes on you in Atlanta," Rick whispers into the kiss and your breath hitches at the admission.

"Rick," you say, almost panting as he grins himself up against you.

It all moves so fast as he goes to slide his hands up your shirt, squeezing your breasts through your bra. You place your own hands on his toned chest, trying to keep yourself steady as his tongue explores your mouth.

He pulls away from the kiss and you miss the contact, but then realise he is reaching for the hem of your top. He pulls it upwards and begins to expose your torso, but you stop him.

"Here?" You gasp, wanting to continue with this, but assuming you would remain as fully clothed as possible. What if someone came looking for you? What if walkers managed to get in? "Leave it on."

He looks at you with irresistible eyes. "I want to see your body," he pleads and you nod immediately, allowing him to remove your top. Caution flies to the wind as soon as he gives you that look. It makes you feel like the only girl in the world. It melts you to the core.

You unbutton his shirt until it's loosely hanging on so that you can get access to his chest, running your hands up and down, exploring his skin. As you do so, he unhooks your bra and throws it to the floor, making you feel incredibly vulnerable in front of him.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," he mutters and you feel yourself blushing under his intense stare. You'd thought about this situation many times before, and every time you felt guilty, or conflicted, but in reality when it was happening, there was no reasoning or logic. No thoughts passed through your head other than how badly you wanted the man in front of you.

He unbuttons your pants and slides his hands down into your panties. He has you unbelievably wet, and he used this wetness to spread onto your swollen clit, increasing the pace of your panting with every circle of the bundle of nerves. He has you in the palm of his hand, literally and figuratively, as he uses one hand on your hip to press you against the wall and keep you in place, and the other to pay attention to your core. He slowly slides his index and middle fingers inside you as you writhe and moan quietly, using his thumb to continue to stimulate your clit while he holds his fingers inside you. His motions speed up and he begins to move his fingers in and out of you, pushing deeper every time and curling as they do so. He continues to whisper praises and compliments to you as you come nearer and nearer to you release.

As your moans grow louder, he takes your mouth in a rough kiss, biting gently on your lip. His fingers repeatedly hit the exact right spot inside you, and combined with the repeated stimulation of you clit it becomes too much. The knot that had built up in your stop finally unclenches as you call out his name, a wave of pleasure blinding you.

"Rick!" you call out and he groans deeply in response.

"That's it," he whispers as you come down from your orgasm, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. You kiss him again as you regain a little of your strength, but soon enough you're ready for more, and teasingly trail your finger down his chest, abdomen and to the bulge in his pants. You palm the bulge momentarily, but you can't resist any longer and unzip his fly, wanting to release him from his jeans.

You pull his length out of his boxers and gasp at the sight of how big he is. Even in your dreams it wasn't like this. You stroke his hard length as he grabs your jeans, unbuttons them and pulls them down, just below your bottom.

Wasting no time, he lines himself up at your entrance, teasing you as he pushes in only the tip. You bury your head in his neck in anticipation, pressing little kisses into his skin, clinging onto his shoulders.

"Please," you whimper and without question he pushes himself in fully. You both let out a simultaneous moan as you revel in the feeling of each other's bodies being connected in such a way.

"Fuck," he pants holding himself inside you and trying to maintain his balance. He grabs your jaw and takes your head from out of the crook of his neck. He looks you in the eyes, holding your face in place, as he takes his cock nearly all the way out of you and slams it back into you in one smooth stroke.

You cry out in ecstacy and your eyes roll to the back of your head. After that initial movement, he starts to build up the pace, moving in and out of you steadily. He lifts your legs up so that he is carrying your weight and fucks you passionately into the wall. Your lips meet every so often in a messy kiss as your bodies slam together, filling the room with obscene noises.

His lips move from your lips to your jawline to your neck as one of his hands find your breasts. With his hand he squeezes your breast while circling your nipple with his thumb, observing closely how your body reacts to everything he does to you, and what it is that you like.

He begins to kiss the skin of your neck, sucking and biting. You both know that he's going to leave marks but neither of you are in a place to stop. Plus, you'd be lying if you said the though of him marking you as his didn't turn you on.

The continuous movements in and out of you bring on that familiar feeling yet again, but in a way that you've never felt before. As it grows nearer you're thankful Rick has hold of you because your whole body feels like jelly. One more push and you're unravelling in his grasp, calling out his name. You don't know how loud you're being, but you don't care. You close your eyes as pleasure fills your body. He slows down through your orgasm, but as soon as he sees you coming around again, he speeds up his strokes again.

You want to speak, to thank him, to say anything, but your mind has turned to mush. All you know of in this moment is the pleasure this beautiful man before you is responsible for. You cling onto his toned biceps, veins prominent on his forearms.

"Harder," you barely manage to utter and he let's out a breathless chuckle, following your command.

Both his hands are now gripping onto your ass, and the warmth of the contact strongly contrasts the coldness of the concrete wall against your upper back.

He has so effortlessly brought you near to orgasm again, and you know he won't be able to hold on this time, his composure slipping.

His thrusts become rougher, faster, more primal. He's so close and his body is taking over his mind. Not that you mind. The strength of his body is like nothing you've ever felt before.

A few final thrusts and you're throwing your head back, moaning obscenely.

"Rick!" You yell. "Fuck!"

Your knees buckle, ecstacy fills your veins, your stomach clenches and one push against your g-spot sends your whole world crumbling around you. White blots fill your vision and your limbs feel like electricity is being shot through them, sending pins and needles to your finger tips.

Once again, Rick fucks you through your orgasm, putting your pleasure first as you clench around him. When you've come around a little, you see him hesitate as he's about to release.

"Cum inside me," you say, almost begging, holding him inside you and gazing into his eyes.

He nearly crumbles at your words and the way you look at him. The next thing you know, you feel his warmth spill inside you with a profane grunt and he holds himself inside you as his head tips back and eyes screw closed.

You stroke his hair out of his face and watch his beauty in awe as he cums inside together. It's a surreal moment that you want to remember forever.

After a minute of you appreciating each other, he pulls out of you and places you down gently, helping you stand up on your unstable legs. He tucks himself back into his pants before helping you get yourself dressed again, being extra careful with his touches, compared to how he just fucked you.

You sink down onto the floor, needing to sit and rest, and Rick joins you.

"We've got ourselves into a mess, haven't we?" You chuckle.

"A little." He nods. He presses two fingers against your cheek and uses them to turn you to look at him. He places a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back and smiling sweetly. "I don't regret it one bit, though."

You smile in return. "Is it true what you said? About wanting me since we first met?"

He nods and mindlessly plays with your hair, twiddling it in his fingers. "I've never met anyone like you before."

"And I've never met anyone like you."

Rick sighs. "The group are going to wonder where we are."

"Right, yeah." You agree. "We'd better get back. I've got an origami swan to make."

"Actually," Rick says, holding his finger up, "I think Carl will be making it. You're just advising him."

You laugh at his playful tone. "My apologies. Credit to Carl where it's due."

The two of you stand up, and as you do so, Rick runs his fingers over your neck.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"What?" You ask, suddenly worried, thinking maybe reality had dawned on him.

He traces over the bruises forming over your neck with his fingers, tickling slightly. "I'm going to have some explaining to do."

A smile forms on his face and relief washes over you. This might undoubtedly cause further tensions in the group, but things with you and Rick might just end up as you'd hoped after all.

#rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes smut #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd fic #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x reader #andrew lincoln

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susie-dreemurr · 1 year

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Fuga Impossível: A story summary for The Gringos

I’ve been seeing people (mostly non-BR) get confused over Cellbit and Tazercraft’s references to their old prison break series, Fuga Impossível, (Impossible Escape) which is canon to their character in QSMP. As they discuss it in some story parts, including Cell’s recent letter to the boys, I thought that it’d be helpful to do a little summary! This is basically the Tazercraft wiki page for the “enredo” (plot) but translated and with a few differences.

Plot summary, from beginning to end, below:

Pac and Mike planned to infiltrate a museum in a big city to steal a valuable diamond, the plan being Mike's. However, almost at the end of the mission, the police end up finding and arresting them, and Pac and Mike are taken to the police station, where they are questioned by Detective Marrone, who makes them give themselves up and sends the two to sleep in prison. Upon waking up, Pac discovers that Mike has knocked out a guard, so the two decide to escape via a helicopter, but are caught by Marrone. Not even the efforts of Pac and Mike's lawyer, trying to clear them of the charges, reversed the situation; Pac and Mike end up being taken to the great prison of Alcatraz.

Arriving there, they are introduced to the prison director, Davi, and see the prisoner J.V trying to escape, but he is quickly recaptured and taken to the cell, which is next to Pac and Mike. The three end up becoming friends, and later, while staying overnight, they meet Cell (Cellbit), another prisoner (so called by the cell phone he carries) with many contacts, who offers them money and protection. It is noted however, that J.V distrusts Cell due to his dangerous and violent ways.

Pac, Mike and J.V start making their prison break plan; they intended to use a pickaxe stolen by Pac and Mike in the mining area, swapping it for a plastic one made by J.V, and escaping through the toilet pipe. Unknowingly for them, Cell overheard everything that was said and tells Pac and Mike not to trust J.V. It turns out that Cell then sends the police officer Felps to search the cell of the two for the pickaxe, but he does not find it. Cell then confronts them, saying that he wants to run too; Pac, Mike and J.V reluctantly agree.

They set the escape date for the next day, but on the same day, J.V, who was in solitary confinement, escapes, and makes a hole in Pac and Mike's cell, with the intention of starting the escape before and thus avoiding Cell. When J.V tries to plug the hole he made, Cell surprises him, stabs him and, after getting them to show him the location, betrays Pac and Mike, fleeing alone in the minecarts (later it would be seen that Cell was caught by the guards). At J.V's funeral, Mike finds a letter, where Jv says he suspects Cell, and tells them to look for his companion Guaxinim (Racoon), a very sneaky prisoner. They speak with Raccoon, who agrees to join them. Pac, Mike and Raccoon go to Cell's solitary cell, but discover that he has already been released. They then decide to go to Cell's cell to steal his cell phone. Arriving there, they try to steal the cell phone, but Cell finds them. However, Raccoon discovers that the cell phone has no signal, and Cell threatens to kill them if they tell anyone.

Pac and Mike decide to use the money (given by Cell when they entered the prison) to pay a prison gang to scare Cell. However, the gang they paid off (Rayquaza) was actually Cell's own gang. Pac, Mike, and Raccoon decide to tell Guard Felps about Cell's cell phone not having a signal, but Cell kills Felps and steals his gun. Then there is a gang fight between Rayquaza and a rival Cell gang, and the other prisoners take the opportunity to make a rebellion. Pac, Mike and Raccoon take advantage of the situation to escape and Raccoon reveals that J.V took advantage of his escapes to build a raft for them to flee and would take Raccoon along in exchange for protection. They find the raft, but Cell (who overheard the three's conversation) surprises them, making them take him.

The four leave Alcatraz Island, but the raft that Jv designed starts to sink because it was only designed for three people. Pac, Mike, Raccoon and Cell then decide to stop on an island. Raccoon was an engineer, so he was assigned the role of repairing the raft and discovers that even if he fixes it, it will still only hold three people. With that, Cell, who has a gun, lets the 3 decide which of them will die. Raccoon later checks his gun and discovers that it only has one bullet — Raccoon then starts to repair the raft, but everyone is starving (except Cell who had gotten some apples from a tree and Raccoon), and Pac and Mike believe Cell would be feeding Raccoon just because he knows how to fix the raft. Suddenly, a police helicopter appears; the group manages to hide the raft in a nearby cave without being seen, and a short time later the helicopter leaves the island. Meanwhile, Cell manipulates Pac, Mike, and Raccoon into thinking they are betraying each other. Mike, who took Cell's knife, stabs Pac, but Raccoon appears and the situation is cleared up. With the three of them knowing this, they trick Cell into thinking that Pac and Raccoon wanted to sacrifice Mike. The three go to a cave to make the plan, but Cell discovers the lie and presses the button at the entrance to the cave, thinking of locking the three there, but the button locked Cell himself in a trap. Cell threatens to kill them with the gun, but Raccoon tells him to keep the bullet for himself. Pac, Mike, and Raccoon exit through a hole behind the cave, abandoning Cell. On the way to the raft, they hear a shot fired by Cell (it is not known if he committed suicide). Finally, Pac, Mike and Raccoon leave the island on the raft, making an impossible escape

#qsmp #qsmp cellbit #qsmp tazercraft #qsmpblr #qsmp translations #fuga impossível #q!cellbit #q!pac #q!mikethelink #mine

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major-mads · 22 days

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Chapter 11: The Wire

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: enjoy!!💕🫡

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 4.4k

October 1, 1943: Sagan, Germany:

Two days.

Two days of squalor, of the constant smell of human excrement, of pure hell. They’d stopped a few times to pick up other prisoners, prolonging the journey deeper into Germany. When the train car door finally slid open, its occupants shielded their eyes as the bright morning light shone into the car. Frank, Hope, and Ruth remained in the corner, unable to stand when the harsh commands to do so echoed through the air.

“Up!”

The airmen did their best to follow the order, but their weakened bodies slowed their movements, angering the Germans who began roughly pulling them from the train. Once the dozens of legs surrounding them stepped toward the exit, Hope clambered to her feet, her legs shaking as she helped pull Ruth up. They shared an anxious glance while Frank grabbed their jacket sleeves and led the trio toward the door behind the other POWs.

“Stay close,” he stressed, looking to each of them for confirmation. “We’re not gonna get split up this time, alright?”

It took their eyes a few moments to adjust to the blinding light of the sun they hadn’t seen in a few days as they jumped down from the train, mud squelching beneath their boots. Ruth’s eyes scanned their surroundings, noticing the scraggly pine forest with a dirt path in the distance. She jumped in surprise when the car door behind her slammed shut.

The guard at the front of the group motioned toward the path with a yell. “Walk! Now!”

Ruth’s eyes widened in panic as they started walking. “Do you think they’re gonna kill us?”

“No,” Hope replied quietly, offering her friend a forced smile. She honestly didn’t know what the Krauts had planned for them but she wasn’t about to give Ruth something more to worry about. “They wouldn’t transport us this far just to kill us.”

Though Ruth nodded in tentative agreement, Hope’s own doubts lingered, a silent weight pressing down upon her. The uncertainty of their fate was almost unbearable, each step forward carrying them deeper into the unknown.

Where were they going?

How long would they be there?

Would they ever see their loved ones again?

They could feel the filth clinging to their bodies with each step down the path. The mud, sweat, blood, and disgusting muck from the train car coated their clothes. It was far worse than any conditions they had experienced as nurses. The women prayed for a shower or just somewhere they could clean themselves of the grime painting their skin. After almost two weeks, the pain in Ruth’s arm dulled into a throb with every movement, and thankfully, Frank’s ribs were much the same. Hope’s bruises were beginning to fade and the deep gash above her eye had slowly closed.

The path through the forest stretched on for about a half-mile before they reached the edge of the treeline. As they emerged from the forest, the sight before them stole their breath away. A vast clearing spread before them, dominated by a sprawling complex of buildings, huts, and sheds. The entire area was encircled by a pair of menacing barbed-wire fences, their twisted coils glinting ominously in the sunlight. Along the perimeter, wooden guard towers loomed tall, manned by German soldiers armed to the teeth with rifles, machine guns, and searchlights.

Frank’s jaw clenched as he took in the formidable sight, his mind racing with grim possibilities. “Looks like our new home,” he remarked, his tone laced with bitterness. “Real cozy.

Hope’s hand found Ruth’s, squeezing it tightly as their group approached the large main gate. Hope opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a loud siren and the gate creaking open. As they walked through the gates and beyond the perimeter of barbed wire, prisoners flocked to the sides of the walkway, scanning the new arrivals for any familiar faces. They wore frayed and mismatched uniforms, many of them hanging loosely on the men’s slender frames. Some called out to friends they recognized, their excited laughter lifting the atmosphere just slightly. Others murmured in disbelief when they caught sight of the women, their expressions filled with shock and pity.

“Can you believe it? Women here…” one muttered from where he leaned against the wire.

“Poor things,” the man beside him replied sadly. “Leave it to the Germans to make women POWs. I wonder what unit they’re with.”

Among the pitied glances were men whose eyes lingered on Hope and Ruth with a disturbing intensity. It was clear that some hadn’t seen women in years, and their unsettling stares sent a chill down the girls’ spines. Frank shot a warning glare at anyone who dared stare too long, his protective instincts kicking into high gear as he trailed closely behind them.

“Welcome to Stalag Luft III, ladies! This place is going to eat you alive.”

Ruth’s eyes followed the voice to a man ahead of them, his sunken face bearing a smirk. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes and red sores sat along the corners of his lips. The poor man looked terrible, and the fear she’d been so desperately trying to push down gripped her heart tightly. She looked away quickly, but the damage was done, the image was burned into her mind.

Was that her future? To end up like him?

Frank’s voice behind them cut through the buzz of the crowd. “Ignore him,” he said, sparing the man a pointed glance. “He’s just a bitter old timer who’s been here too long.”

Hope nodded in agreement, her grip on Ruth’s hand tightening slightly as they continued past the wire, further into the camp. They were led into one of the buildings and lined up before being searched for any items considered contraband. Thankfully, their Luftwaffe searchers were more respectful than the soldiers who found them after the crash, patting them down without allowing their hands to linger.

Once the search was complete, they were fingerprinted and photographed, reminding the trio of their arrival at Dulag Luft. Thinking back on that day, Hope couldn’t help but wonder where Bob Wolff ended up. He was the only piece of home they had… the only tie to the small corner of East Anglia the women held so dearly to their hearts. The thought was pushed from her mind when a neatly folded pile of two thin blankets, a rough mattress cover, and a straw-filled pillow was thrust toward her. Hope’s heart sank at the sight of the pitiful bedding, knowing it would offer little comfort in the cold nights ahead.

In line before her, Ruth blinked away the tears filling her eyes as she was given a small package filled with eating utensils and toiletries. She clutched the scratchy towel close to her chest, struggling to hold it all with one hand. At the final stop, a man held out her new “dog tags,” her prisoner of war number stamped into the shiny metal. Ruth rearranged the items in her hands and took them from the soldier, lining back up along the wall.

2981, the tag read.

With a shaky sigh, she glanced over at Hope who took hers and joined the blonde against the wall. Frank soon made his way over to them, and before they knew it, their group of about 30 Americans was led back through the camp to a gate leading into one of the many compounds on site. Hope and Ruth’s eyes scanned the large area, taking in the dozens of men walking around, some returning to their blocks after swarming the wire a few minutes before.

All eyes flew to the gate behind them as it shut, sealing them into the compound for the foreseeable future. Despite the open area before them, Ruth felt the reality of their situation wash over her like a frigid ocean wave. Her panic set in. The thought of being confined to this one place for months, years, decades, however long it took for the war to end, was unbearable. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her heart racing as a sense of claustrophobia overwhelmed her. The barbed wire surrounding her seemed to close in on her, and she fought the urge to run, to try and escape the suffocating camp.

Sensing her distress, Hope immediately gave her things to Frank and reached out to grab her shoulders, reassuringly squeezing them. “Rue, it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice steady and calming. “We’re gonna be alright.”

Frank stepped closer to them. “Take deep breaths, Ruth. In…and out.”

She tried to calm herself, Frank’s words reminding her of John’s that day on the tarmac. Ruth could almost feel his beating heart beneath her hand as she took deep breaths. After a few moments, her breathing evened out and the panic passed. Frank and Hope sent each other a relieved glance, thankful the anxiety strike didn’t progress into a full-fledged attack. It wasn’t the first panic Ruth had around the pair, and Hope was surprised she hadn’t had one since they went down. In her eyes, it was long overdue.

“Welcome to the lovely South Compound,” a commanding voice called out to the group. “I’m Colonel Goodrich, and I’ll be your Commanding Officer during your stay here.”

Goodrich was a tall man with dark, curly hair. He stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back as he spoke. The colonel’s sharp gaze swept over the faces of the men before him, assessing their conditions. But it was when his eyes landed on Ruth and Hope that his expression shifted, a flicker of surprise and concern crossing his features. He hesitated momentarily before gesturing to the shorter man beside him.

“This is Major Dodson. He’s going to assign you to blocks.”

Dodson stepped forward and began to lead the group toward the dozens of buildings across the clearing. The trio started to follow but froze when Goodrich’s voice filled the air.

“You three. Hold on a moment.”

The rest of the group murmured among themselves as they followed Dodson to get their bunking assignments, leaving Hope, Frank, and Ruth standing alone before the Colonel. He approached them with his hands in his pockets, his demeanor serious but not unkind.

“I apologize for singling you out, but we’ve never had women here. I thought maybe it was one thing the Germans wouldn’t do, but here we are…Do you need medical attention?”

Hope exchanged a quick glance with Ruth and Frank before replying, “No, sir. We’re alright, just a bit banged up from the crash.”

Colonel Goodrich nodded, his gaze lingering on the blood and cuts marring Ruth’s face and the grimy appearance of all three of them. “I see. What outfit are you with?”

“806th MAETS,” Frank replied.

“Ahh, so you’re flight nurses, I’m guessing.”

Hope stuck out her hand. “Yes, sir. First Lieutenant Hope Armstrong,” she gestured to herself. “This is my counterpart Second Lieutenant Ruth Morgan, and our pilot Captain Frank Martin.”

Goodrich shook each of their hands and offered the women a kind smile. “I hate you two are stuck here, but I’ll do what I can to help you out. I imagine you’d all like to clean up a bit. Major Dodson can arrange private showers for you, Lieutenants. It’s cold and might not be the Ritz, but it’s better than nothing.”

The thought of showers, of getting clean perked Ruth up, and she nodded once at the man. “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Goodrich glanced at his watch before taking a breath and walking away, motioning for them to follow. “I’ll take you to your assigned block. This compound has only been open a few weeks, so there’s a lot of empty rooms.“

The air inside the block was musty, but it felt like a sanctuary compared to the chaos and constant vigilance they’d endured the past few weeks. The Colonel stopped before a door and turned to face them.

“This building is relatively quiet,” he explained, looking down the long hallway at the few men entering their room further down. “You’ll have this room to yourselves. It’ll give you a little bit of privacy.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Colonel Goodrich nodded, and Hope could tell he wished he could do more for them, but this was the best he could do. ”Dodson will be back soon to take you to the showers. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.”

With that, he turned and left them standing in front of the door to their room, staring at the wood blankly. Frank took a deep breath and opened the door. The space was dimly lit by a small window, casting long shadows across the room. Triple-decker bunk beds lined the walls, each one with a thin straw mattress that looked as disgusting as the ones in their Dulag Luft cells. A single table stood in the middle of the room.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Frank remarked, dropping his handful of things to the table with a thud.

Hope nodded in agreement, her gaze lingering on the bunk beds. “At least we have a place to rest.”

Ruth was the first to choose a bunk, opting for the lower bunk farthest from the door, and Hope chose the one beside her. Frank decided on the bunk above Hope. They got settled, putting the thin sheets and blankets on their beds. With a weary sigh, Ruth sank onto her finished bed and closed her eyes. It didn’t feel the greatest, but it was the most comfortable she’d been in weeks, and exhaustion crept up on her as she took a deep breath.

“That man,” she whispered, blinking away tears that stung her eyes, “The one at the gate…”

“What about him?”

“His eyes…they looked so hollow, so hopeless. I-I don’t want to end up like that.”

Hope sat on the edge of Ruth’s bed, placing a hand on her arm. “Hey, you won’t. You’ve got me. And you’ve got Frank. We’re not going anywhere.”

As Hope stared into her friend’s glistening eyes, she hoped the woman couldn’t see through her. That she couldn’t see the terror that possessed her every thought, every moment, every dream since the door of her cell slammed shut at Dulag Luft. It was no secret that they were at the mercy of their captors who could do anything they wanted, and Hope feared it was only a matter of time until the Germans took advantage of it.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, through the thin walls, and Hope’s hear skipped a beat. She could see it now: a German shoving open the door, dragging her and Ruth out by their hair to do unspeakable things to them. But when three quiet knocks filled the air, she furrowed her brows.

Germans wouldn’t knock.

The women watched with bated breath as Frank slowly approached the door, shooting them a warning glance that seemed to say, ‘get ready.’ Before he opened it, the visitor spoke on the other side, their voice muffled through the wood.

“It’s Major Dodson. I’ve arranged some showers for y’all.”

Hope let out a soft exhale, the tension in her shoulders easing as Frank shook his head and opened the door. Quickly blinking her eyes, Ruth tried to clear any sign of tears from her face before he could see. Dodson stepped inside, smiling kindly at the two women sitting on the bed. If he noticed the blonde’s red-rimmed eyes, he didn’t comment on it.

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenants.” He nodded at them, then turned to Frank. “And you, Captain.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dodson held out a bundle of clothing to him. “Here are some fresh clothes. I found the smallest ones possible for you two, but-”

“Thank you,” Hope interrupted. “I’m sure they’re fine, sir.”

“Grab your stuff and follow me. I reckon y’all are chomping at the bit to get clean. I know I was when I arrived.”

His accent held a slight southern twang, and Hope raised an eyebrow at Ruth, who instantly noticed and perked up, feeling a little bit at home. They each gathered their basic shower pack and towel quickly, following the Major out of the building.

“Where are you from, sir?” Ruth asked, walking faster to fall into step with him, already expecting somewhere close to her beloved North Carolina.

A fond smile graced his lips as he thought of home. “Erwin, Tennessee, ma’am. You?”

“Charlotte, North Carolina.”

“Ahh the good ‘ole Queen City,” he chuckled lightly.

Dodson directed them around the corner of a block to a much smaller concrete building, resembling the shower building at Dulag Luft. The krauts sure weren’t original with their POW camp architecture, that was for sure. As they reached the door, the Major spun to face them.

“There are no curtains, so-”

“You two go first,” Frank interrupted, nodding at Hope and Ruth.

“Alright. There’s only one entrance, so Captain Martin and I will stand guard while you two are showerin’. Sound alright?”

Hope and Ruth held each other’s gaze for a moment before thanking him and stepping inside. The room was dark and damp with a row of sinks on one side and a few showerheads on the other. A couple of benches lined the middle, and they set down their packs and towels, exchanging another brief glance before turning their backs to each other before starting to undress.

Ruth carefully removed her sling, supporting her healing arm before shrugging off her flight jacket. She sighed with relief as she stripped off her clothes, feeling the weight of the grime and filth lifting from her skin. As she peeled off her shirt, she winced at her too-quick movements that sent a sharp pain through her forearm.

“I can’t wait to get this thing off,” she groaned, casting a longing glance at her arm, the splint’s once pristine bandages now a disgusting brown. “I can’t wait to get this thing off. I can’t even shower cause it’ll get wet.”

“How’s it feeling?” Hope asked sympathetically from behind her.

“It still hurts, but it’s better than before.”

“And how long has it been since you got the splint?”

“Barely a week,” she sighed. “The nurse said 6-8 weeks.”

Hope paused, thinking it over for a moment. “I’d have to agree with her. Five more weeks, Rue.”

“Great.”

Silence again filled the small room as Ruth finished undressing. She heard a showerhead coming alive behind her and grabbed her washcloth and moved to one of the sinks, running the tan cloth under the frigid water. Starting with her face, she used the rag to wipe away the dirt and blod daked on her skin. The mix of brown and burgundy drips from the cloth turned the water in the sink a disgusting color as it swirled down the drain.

The macabre sight caused a similar moment to flash in her mind, taking her back to Thorpe Abbotts…to the small officer’s outhouse…to John. Ruth felt the warmth of the shower, the feeling of the hot water rolling down her body. She smelled the familiar scent of Johnny’s soap and heard his low voice above the spray of the water.

“Never saw the sun shining so bright,

Never saw things looking so right.

Watching the days hurrying by,

When you’re in love, my how they fly,

Blue days, all of ‘em gone,

Nothin’ but blue skies from now on…”

Much like that day, tears pricked at the corners of Ruth’s eyes as she focused on the voice of the man she loved. She’d realized on that late August day that she wasn’t alone…that she had someone to stay by her side and take care of her. Ruth had finally fallen helplessly in love, but it had all been ripped away from her without warning.

Was she angry with God? Maybe. As a child, she remembered asking her father why God allowed bad things to happen to good people. Why He allowed her grandfather to be taken from them by a terrible car accident. William Morgan picked his daughter up and placed her on his knee, kissing her temple.

“God doesn’t make bad things happen, sweetheart,” he whispered, wiping the crocodile tear from her cheek. “Everything was perfect in the Garden of Eden, but when Adam and Eve chose to disobey God, it brought sin into the world. That sin is what makes bad things happen, not God. He loves us and gives us a choice in what we do.”

“Is it okay to be mad at him? Are you mad at him?”

William contemplated her questions, searching his wounded heart for the right answer. “It is…and I am. But I don’t blame God.”

“Well, I am too,” Ruth whispered as her lower lip quivered. “I miss papa.”

“I miss him, too. We’re gonna be alright, Ruthie.”

If there was one thing Ruth Morgan always held onto, it was her faith. She didn’t always understand, didn’t always get to see what awaited her through the rough times, but she always believed that God held her close to His heart, giving her strength when she was too weak to go on. Wiping the tear that leaked from her eye, Ruth shook away her thoughts and cleaned her arms and legs, scrubbing away the grime that had accumulated over the previous week and a half. As she washed the dirt from her skin, the various bruises and cuts littering her limbs became visible, some still an angry blue while others were barely yellow-tinted. They were a grim reminder of just how lucky they were to be alive.

Once she was as clean as possible, she hesitated before reaching up to run her hand through her hair…or trying to. Ruth winced when her fingers caught an enormous tangle, painfully pulling on her scalp, and she gave up on the blonde rat’s nest. She instead stuck her whole head under the spigot, doing her best to wash away the dirt with her good hand somehow without tangling it further. Careful of her arm, she changed into the fresh clothes Dodson gave them, trying to pull her hair out of her way with one hand. They hung loosely off her body, but at least they were clean.

“I’ll braid it for you later if you’d like.”

Ruth was startled at the sound of her friend’s voice. She was so deep in thought that she hadn’t heard the shower stop or Hope getting dressed behind her. With a nod, she slipped back on her sling. “Please.”

The girls finished in the bathhouse and joined Frank and Major Dodson outside.

“I’ll lead you back to your bunkhouse,” Dodson suggested and Frank nodded in agreement. “I’d like to think the men here are better than the Krauts, but some of them have been here so long that…” he trailed off.

“Thank you, Dodson,” Frank added, “I’ll have a quick wash up and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Don’t rush, Frank. Ruth and I are just going to settle in,” Hope confirmed, linking her arm through Ruth’s, their eyes meeting for a brief moment.

Dodson had long strides and the girls struggled to keep up with him as he marched back across the camp to their bunkhouse. Hope and Ruth slipped in the mud and clung onto each other to stay uptight. The last thing they wanted was to end up covered in mud again.

Dodson opened the door to the wooden house and led them inside once more. “Do you girls need anything? Anything at all?”

Ruth flopped down onto her bunk with a sigh and Hope shook her head, “No, I think we’re good thank you, Major. I think we just need some sleep.”

The Major nodded, sending Hope a soft smile before he closed the door gently behind him. Now they were alone, Hope moved to sit next to Ruth. She began to run her fingers through Ruth’s damp locks, causing her friend to emit a long, satisfied groan.

“Sit up, Rue, I’ll braid your hair.”

The blonde obliged, sitting up as best she could without hitting her head on the low bed above her. As Hope moved her fingers through her hair Ruth sighed once more, finally feeling a little more relaxed. She’d been so uptight since they had crashed that she’d barely taken a moment to breathe.

Hope stayed silent behind her and Ruth turned to look at her friend, noticing the few tears that had slipped down her cheeks.

“Oh Hope, what’s wrong?”

Hope shook her head firmly, wiping the tears away quickly, “I’m fine. I promise, Rue.”

Ruth knew better than to believe her stoic friend, but she also knew pressing her on the subject would only cause Hope to close up further.

“Dodson seems nice,” she changed the subject, hoping she might be able to distract Hope from whatever was plaguing her.

She hummed in agreement but continued to run her fingers through Ruth’s hair. Grabbing the thin comb from her shower pack, Hope did her best to detangle the mess of blonde before her. She didn’t really feel like talking. The events of the past few weeks had finally caught up with her and she felt as though she might burst with her pent-up emotions.

“I wonder what the guys are doing now?” Ruth replied absentmindedly as she tugged at a loose thread on her bedding. “What do you think they’re doing?”

Hope thought for a moment, trying to imagine the boys back at Thorpe Abbotts. She honestly wasn’t sure what they would be doing, but she knew Ruth was trying her best to make conversation.

“Hugh’s probably annoying John in some way and Gale’s probably trying to keep the peace.”

Ruth chuckled as she imagined Hugh bickering with John like two spoiled children. She could see Gale now, running his hand through his blond locks with an exasperated sigh.

“Poor Gale,” Ruth chuckled, “At least he’ll be good at breaking up fights if you guys have kids.”

She was trying to be positive, to think of the future, but from the look on Hope’s face, she knew her friend was struggling. Pulling her head away from Hope’s hands, she pulled her into a tight hug, squishing her face into Hope’s neck. She could feel Hope relaxing a little beneath her touch. Hope couldn’t help but relax as Ruth’s body collided with her own. It was one of the few things that still made her smile. She wasn’t sure what the coming weeks and months would hold for them, but at least they had each other.

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letters-to-jimin · 2 months

Text

⚠️ Explicit terms are used below ⚠️

I don't know why something from a while ago happened to cross my other blog @love-is-your-hand-in-mine , but it did and I feel like it's a good time to bring these issues up- that are still relevant to this day and they have followed Jimin into the military with Jungkook.

The hate towards Jimin is one of the reasons they enlisted together, since it was very openly suggested that Jungkook would protect him.

It was by some stroke of luck, thanks to the universe stepping in- that their papers were selected and they were nominated to be able to leave together right before their time was up.

This ⬇️ is something from one of my followers anonymous "asks" that I saw on my newsfeed this morning and they will also remain anonymous for obvious reasons.

This is a very alarming issue and it goes to show how toxic most of the community really is, because HUNDREDS of people participated in sending Jimin death threats and various other things, including women trying to claim they would show up to the airports with guns and harm him.

Once it was announced they would be traveling together AFTER the announcement was made about their service date- the hate only fucking grew and it's easily the most hate that Jimin has ever had to endure.

Jungkook and Jimin went dead silent on social media and they didn't really resurface again, until the live they did with Namjoon and Taehyung.

At the bottom of their "ask" that I shared a little bit from up above- my follower says that Jimin isn't "miserable" over the antis and their behavior, when in fact yes he is.

Just because you don't see it publicly, doesn't mean it's not happening.

Based on Jimin's sensitive personality and the severity of the issues at hand, it most definitely is- but the difference is how he has Jungkook by his side.

So he doesn't need to endure it alone and it makes it easier for him.

▪︎

Anyone who thinks the hate from this time isn't a big deal, needs to learn a thing or two about the country they live in- because the fact that the antis knew RIGHT where to hit Jimin- shows how most of them were in fact from Asia.

Because of the laws and such surrounding their military service and the government in general over there.

It's VERY different as opposed to other countries like America or Canada and Jimin could have literally been sent to prison over the allegations and accusations they were sending DIRECTLY to the government and military themselves.

He could have been facing prison time or worse- they could have killed him, due to how homophobic The Republic Of Korea really is.

You guys seriously have no idea how extreme these countries are, because you're not willing to learn anything aside from those fantasies you have in your head about these places.

▪︎

After enlisting together, MinKook will come back so much stronger than before though and all of these "children" that are taking tantrums will be silenced.

You're not allowed to speak on something that has nothing to do with you, so your tantrums were ignored and you're not happy with that- are you?

That's all it was- they made it known publicly that they were going to choose to grow together for the next 18 months and you panicked, because Jungkook would be with someone you don't approve of.

Jimin could have backed out and given in to the hate, but he chose Jungkook through and through and no amount of hate you give him will change what they have.

Love always wins 🌈

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epiclamer · 1 year

Note

HEYYYYYYUYYYYYYYHJBGGGG

can you write more villain caretaker and hero whumpee please

I've probably read every single one of your writing and I'm craving for

This for u 🐢

missing my wife hours good lord

Stoic

Villain had watched the whip come down thirty-seven times, not once did Hero so much as whimper or bow their head. Tears swelled in their eyes and their lip quivered, but no sound ever escaped, no weakness was ever revealed.

The hero stayed completely stoic.

Eventually, it became too much for their body to handle and they slumped to the ground unconscious. Yet even in their evidently final moments before collapse, they stayed strong.

The criminal would never admit it, but it broke something in their stone heart. Standing there, knowing full well that the hero would be broken in time, just like everyone else.

Supervillain was thorough with their prisoners, they never rushed compliance and most of all; they never gave up.

Villain silently released their halted breath in relief when Supervillain called off the punishment, deciding to return the hero to their cell for the night instead and to pick back up tomorrow.

It seemed like a blessing to anyone on the outside, but, speaking from experience, Villain knew that it only hurt more the next day. Supervillain never had the other’s comfort in mind. Every precise decision was made to inflict the utmost amount of pain.

Some said it be their only talent.

Villain knew better.

The supervillain was incredibly talented in this domain, no doubt about it, but they had other skills, far more dangerous ones, ones far more deadly.

Mindlessly, the villain followed after the guards dragging the hero away. Their feet taking the lead while their mind was busy.

They had never been particularly keen on this specific hero, yet they found themselves fond for their determination. Determination to never let the supervillain see them break, determination to stay headstrong, foolish determination. Incredibly foolish…

At the same time, so intriguing.

What made them this way? How had they lasted so long already? Why did they act against when they could be spared for falling in line?

Villain figured the only way they could get answers was to ask the questions themselves. So they did. Trailing the guards all the way to the hero’s cell quarters and awaiting a safe signal to enter before sitting themselves down in a chair.

The sight was pitiful, to say the least. No matter how hard Hero tried to stay unmoved, their unconscious body gave everything away.

Fear and worry lines crossing their forehead even while they slept, a quivering lip and bowed head, twisted limbs as if they were trying to escape in their dreams and tears rolling from their closed lids.

Pitiful, sad, whatever you wanted to call it. Villain couldn’t help but feel angry, a spark directed to their superior that they snuffed out immediately. Leaving it to linger only long enough to feel the warmth left behind in their chest.

The guard to their right grabbed the taser on their belt. Lifting it as they took aim for the captive and before Villain could protest, they shot.

Two coils burst from the gun, both wired with almost visible shocks of electricity as they attacked the unresponsive hero. Rendering them awake and writhing in a second as they tried to catch their bearings.

One look.

“I didn’t give you an order,” the villain reminded them, flexing their left hand, their dominant hand for everyone to see. Though the villain’s eyes weren’t on the guard anymore, they could see in their periphery the uncertain step back.

“I—”

“Leave us.” The villain’s voice was somewhat composed as they tried desperately to keep their cool. Hasty decisions could get them in trouble but in this moment, it wasn’t much of interest to them. Watching the hero wheeze and gag in front of them triggered them. For whatever reason.

Without more protest, the guards cleared the room, leaving the hero and the villain — as requested — alone. A minute or so passed before the villain found the courage to act. They stood up and crouched in front of the hero, lifting their chin up with their index finger.

Exhausted eyes met curious ones and for a second there was nothing but pain and suffering between them. The hero was wretched, bloody and bruised, more looking like a corpse than someone capable of living. Fuck it.

The villain carefully took off their gloves and touched the hero with their bare hands, cold fingers cupping their glowing chin. Admittedly, the villain was scared. They’d never done anything like this before and frankly, they didn’t know they could. Hearing their own heartbeat echo in their ears wasn’t something they were used to.

“I can’t lessen the pain,” they said, nearly whispered the words. “But I want to help you. Give me some time and I promise, I’ll get you out of here.”

Their fingers traced the hero’s neck where sweat and blood mixed together.

“You just have to hold on for a little bit longer. I know it’s a lot to ask for…” The hero let out a painful gasp and leaned their head against the villain’s shoulder. Blood smeared all over the villain’s clothes but this time it didn’t matter to them. Soon enough, the villain felt the shaky but frequent breath on their neck but it still took them an embarrassingly amount of time to notice that the hero had fallen asleep on them.

#HA I CAN PUT WHATEVER I WANT IN HERE #hi sweetie #yes this is cat #husband asked me on his knees to finish this #how could i ever say no to that lovely request? :3 #hero #villain #hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes #villains #heroes x villains #villains x heroes #villains and heroes #heroes and villains #hero and villain #villain and hero #jfc he uses so many tags my god is villain even a word anymore #probably not

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cultofdixon · 10 months

Text

Taking Time

Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns | AFAB • The fall of the prison brought these two together, and it meant so much more • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Canon Violence / Insecurities / Night Terrors / Burn Scars / PTSD / Abuse

“Claimed!”

The familiar voice rang through Daryl’s ears thinking he was dreaming until he looked up spotting Y/N standing amongst a strange group. Looks like a biker gang. Without the bikes of course.

“Well shit boys. They modified the rules once again, but I’m kind of likin’ it” the man circled Daryl as he brought himself to his feet stepping close to Y/N about to embrace them when they retracted into themselves. “Aww. No hug for the newbie, anyway, you’ll learn about how we run things as we go along. But for obvious “what the fuck we doing” reasons. We’re tracking somebody”

“And helping this sweet piece of ass find that weird sanctuary place thinking the rest of their friends are there” and to the one’s mistake, he wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder as Daryl watches their whole body tense and suddenly swing back one of their fists to meet his nose. The guy falls back with a thud and before he could get up Daryl aims his crossbow at his head resulting in a gun aimed at Y/N’s.

“Now now. Len here clearly never learns from his mistakes when dealin’ with the feral animal like times before.” The man from before, became obvious that he’s their leader. “He won’t do it again Y/N. But since you claimed this fella here, until he proves himself. Anything he does out of turn…will result in punishment on you” he whispers his threat up close and personal to Y/N making Daryl surrender to make him step away, but the defensive body language from his…Y/N. Started to stress him out, thinking they’ll snap a bone if touched.

Once the group got themselves settled into a building for the night, Y/N quickly claimed the truck and shoved one of the guys of the way for it. They gestured for Daryl to join them as the others fought for the other places. The two sat in the bed of the truck watching the others get settled as Daryl brought his attention back to Y/N seeing the exhaustion in their face along with the stress that he doesn’t know entirely about.

Until he had woken to the sound of fighting that was quickly muffled by one covering the other’s mouth. In this case being Len covering Y/N’s mouth as he drags their struggling form outside the garage. Daryl didn’t wait another second but did his best to keep quiet going to save them when—

“Where you going?”

“You let this shit just happen?”

“Y/N has always been a piece of work with us. Not only is the helping one another find whatever either of us is looking for being a reason to stay, but because they’ve caused us trouble. And instead of putting a bullet between their eyes, they agreed to work with us. In any. way. shape. or form” The leader by the name of Joe, that was earlier told to Daryl while the group migrated, stated watching a bit of the horror his words intended write itself on his face. “Nothing sexual if that makes yea feel better. You should just let’em fight”

“Nah. Fuck off” Daryl hissed and before he could even get to the door, Tony knocked him onto his ass. “Piss off—-“ and he stopped when he heard the click of Joe’s gun.

“Just let’em fight”

Daryl was willing to take a bullet for Y/N in that moment, but there’s so much more to it. He felt like a monster letting it happen…but he didn’t want them to die in a quick way either. He needs to find a way for this to stop.

The next morning came and Daryl stayed up all night with Y/N. After they came back in, they stopped speaking. Part of it was the injuries to their throat, another was the rage brewing inside them. But one thing they did do was take Daryl’s hand at some time during the night to reassure him not to blame himself, even if he does that regardless.

“Explain your shitty rules”

Joe chuckles to the tone but was going to comply anyway. “You see somethin’ you want. Claim it. Before another does. Y/N picks fights—-“

“Shut it. Am I still claimed?”

“Nah. I think that fine ass did it so we wouldn’t have killed yea the second we saw you. Cuz we really didn’t trust how you just sat in the middle of the road and didn’t get bothered by any walkers. Force of nature in your own strange way” Joe took out a pack of cigarettes that he managed to find, offering one to Daryl as he shook his head. “So do whatever. But don’t pick a fight. Imma still keep that rule in play. You do shit. They pay for it” he gestured to Y/N walking in the center of the group.

Daryl had gotten an idea.

Resulting in Y/N freezing to the hand wrapped around their throat and being pinned against the wall. They had just gotten into a fight with Len again and Daryl was sick of this shit. Putting them in their place which got brownie points from the rest of the group. Joe especially.

“You do what you’re told from now on” Daryl threats watching Y/N tense up a bit more as they nod, feeling a tear roll off their cheek.

“Well done. The feral beast is now tamed.” Joe suddenly grabs Len by the collar and shoved him against one of the cars they found. “Len, we’ll put a bullet through your head if you mess with them. Let Daryl discipline them when they’re out of line” he smirks releasing the poor dude before finding their group another spot to hold up in.

As the others followed Joe leaving Daryl and Y/N to be the stragglers, Y/N wiped away the tear relaxing their body once Daryl removed his hand.

“Sorry” He whispers to them, Y/N still deciding not to speak but they patted his shoulder to give him some sense that it was all part of the plan and okay…it was just going to set them back a bit.

Another few days went by, resulting in one where Len died after trying to plant something of Daryl’s in Y/N’s pack. Joe was sick of the kid’s shit and ended his dumbass. As night fell, Y/N offered to keep watch after setting up another barrier of cans. But Daryl of course refused to let them be alone and the remaining few of the Claimers, something the two decided to call them, turned in for the night.

“I really did get stuck by hurting a few of them” Y/N blurts out to avoid the silence between the two. Thankful that they started the conversation making Daryl internally sigh. “Already didn’t come out of the prison unscathed. Had to fight a few Governor fucks on my way out…they found me bleeding and full of rage. Didn’t kill Lou but he was the one that knocked me down back to square one…” they rub their throat gently not enjoying the bruises, but Daryl noticed how hesitant they were to touch parts of their arm. “I was already found broken…then got thrown back down to that stage again”

________

While on a run by himself to mainly get something for Maggie, Glenn came back in a hurry startling everybody when he came in running with a body in his arms. Beth and Carl quickly took everything off the table letting Glenn set the person down as Hershel approached with Caleb, both assessing the situation.

“We bringing in walker-like strays now?” Daryl states watching Carol move to block Beth who’s carrying Judith and Carl in case the mysterious person turned.

“They saved me. They weren’t bit or nothing”

“But we know very well that even a bullet wound can turn a man. Carol take’em out of the cellblock” Rick gestures for his friend to take the kids out before turning to the two docs. “Y’all can do what you can. But the second things go south, you’re taking them out” he pointed to Glenn making it his responsibility given he brought them in.

But instead of a walker waking out of the person, woke was a terrified human being cornering themselves while the group mistakenly surrounded him.

“We ain’t gonna hurt yea.” Hershel reassures taking a step back as the person who looked as if they were mummified because of the bandages pressed themselves against the wall.

Glenn stepped into view seeing their eyes lock on him and a sense of relief washed over them but when he stepped close they retracted.

“You were severely burned when you saved me. Clearly you were in something else before saving me…So I had to return the favor when you passed out from I assume exhaustion” Glenn says with a frown watching as his words did nothing to calm them.

Daryl finally arrived back with Rick and Maggie seeing the situation for himself. He watches for a bit seeing the few trying to approach the stranger that was giving clear signs that they didn’t want them near’em.

“Ight. Everybody out.” Daryl states receiving confused looks. “I’ve got it. Now get the fuck out” he watches his family go from confused to he’s serious and did what was…demanded more than asked of them.

The second the few surrounding the stranger was no longer around them and Daryl was left to be with them. He watches them slide against the wall reaching the ground and curling up on themselves.

“Nobody here is gonna hurt yea.” He kept his distance kneeling to the floor to be their level. “What we heard was you saved one of our own. We don’t meet those who help with violence.”

“…He didn’t see the walkers following him, and the foundation was weak enough to knock over to take the crowd out” They sounded weak given their state. “I…Had Uhm…just…”

“You don’t gotta tell me what happened to yea” Daryl starts seeing the relief flood them instantly. “I’ll stop anybody that bothers yea for an answer. You don’t gotta share if you don’t wanna”

Later that day, Daryl helped them get settled into one of the office rooms. Since the cells weren’t giving them any comfort, hell he understands that feeling.

“Holler if yea need anything…uhm”

“It’s Y/N. Y/N…” Y/N gave him an appreciative look as he made his leave to let them settle in.

________

“You’ve said I never had to bring it up…But this, still doesn’t top being burned alive” Y/N scoffs feeling the tears coming. “Your family made me feel safe again, be able to trust again…then the second I extend my hand in asking for help. I’m shoved back into that place feeling the heat rise and the footsteps fade…”

“Let’s leave then” Daryl whispers to Y/N seeing the pleading look in their eyes mixed with the fear and anxious body language. “I’ve lost and I ain’t gonna keep losin’. I’m not losin’ you to these fucks” he continues to keep his voice low turning back to the group before quietly getting up and extending his hand to them. “I’m not losing you” and with that, Y/N took the chance and they left.

But when the next night came and Joe had found who he was looking for this entire time. Daryl couldn’t let anything more happen and revealed himself from the shadows. Given the two had gotten back onto the road by following it within the tree line, but when they heard the commotion of the Claimers, they knew something was up.

“What the hell you doing?”

“Well lookie here fellas” Joe smirks keeping his gun directed at Rick. “Where’s your partner huh? Len might not be around but I still got a thing or two to pick with Y/N”

“What. Are. You. Doing.”

“Paying respects to Lou. By killing his killer”

“These people…are good people.” Daryl states watching Y/N in the darkness start to pull up without being spotted.

“Yeah? He killed our friend, saying he’s good people…is a lie” and that triggered two of the guys to bring Daryl down. Taking his crossbow off of him and starting to lay a few punches. While the one keeping Carl in the truck, Dan, pulled the kid out so that Rick could watch what he’s going to do with him. “First. We’re gonna beat your friend Daryl to death, then we’re gonna take the girl…and the boy, and finally end you”

Without a second thought, Rick suddenly head butted Joe causing him to release a shot but topple back a bit. As Rick formulated a quick plan, another shot rang through. Seeing the man on Carl drop and the one who fired coming out from the dark being Y/N. Oh how the two tuned out the rest of the world in that moment…

Rick took care of Joe giving him a piece of his mind while Y/N tackled down one of the two on Daryl, giving him a window to take care of the other. As Michonne took down her attacker before checking on Carl.

As the sun started to rise, Rick sat in silence thinking of what had just happened and turned to the two beside him seeing the damage done on Y/N that has aged.

“Why did you stay with’em? Did you know—-“

“We were trackin’ somebody. Didn’t know it was you. I just wanted to find you guys. Got stuck in a predicament” Y/N wipes the blood from their lip after being punched a few times during their recent altercation. “Then found Daryl, and got roped into another problem”

“It was a lot, Rick. Couldn’t step out until there was a window. A bit of an obvious one but still” Daryl kept his attention to the ground below before turning to Y/N when they rest their head on his shoulder. They all were exhausted. Y/N’s body was starting to give in.

“…Need to find the others. Find out if they’re alright”

Following the directions on the signs that passed by to this sanctuary called Terminus the closer they got. Y/N’s anxiety started to eat at them realizing it’s a gated community and remembering they didn’t know much of it. It could be a trap was all they thought as Rick cautiously placed his hand upon their shoulder watching them retract.

“You stay out here in case shit happens and we need rescuing”

“I don’t trust it Rick.”

“I know, I don’t either. But we’ll need someone like you to help us out of there when given the signal”

But the signal never came in the form of the retired sheriff or even the archer or the swordsman.

It was Carol. She had startled them unexpectedly as she had a suspicion on the place when she noticed the signs for herself. But seeing Y/N had been watching the community from the outside and hearing that they received no sign from their group…she knew that the two of them would have to break them out.

With the help of an explosion.

After getting their group out of the hell with cannibals, real fucking cannibals. Everyone reunited with Carol and eventually we’re led to where Judith and Tyreese were.

Y/N watches the Grimes reunite with one another and couldn’t help but grip onto their chest.

________

Y/N cornered themselves in a cell in the quarantine block as they felt their chest tighten at every breath. They couldn’t remember the last time they were sick but it definitely didn’t feel like this. They were waiting like the rest still standing, for Daryl and the others to return with the medicine and it felt like it was taking forever with how incredibly slow everything was happening.

Then Daryl came through the cell block with those that accompanied him and immediately went to Hershel who made the cocktail for those still alive.

Leading the archer to instantly make his way toward Y/N’s cell as he didn’t wait a second to give them the medicine. And within that moment even if it didn’t go into full effect, he wrapped his arms around them holding them in his embrace.

________

Something he’s been wanting to do since they reunited

Ever since the prison collapsed, everything seemed to went down hill. Now the group walked aimlessly through the streets after losing a few of their own.

Beth…

Tyreese…

Both happened so suddenly that it will ache for a while.

As the group stopped in the middle of the road investigating the water that was left out there. Ultimately refusing it. The weather changed and it felt like a sign when the rain fell…that some good will come again with time.

The archer didn’t budge from his place letting the rain hit him and ultimately drench him like it did others. He only moved slightly when he felt their hand place itself on his arm. As Y/N looks up at Daryl with that concern look in their eyes, the same one he bore during their time with the claimers. He knew he could do what he wanted right then and there…

Carefully engulfing Y/N in his embrace feeling them wrap their arms tightly around him holding on for fear life. As no one could tell that they had started to cry silently in each other’s arms due to the rain.

It’ll take time to heal from it all.

But he was thankful for them in this moment.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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1moremilgram-enjoyer · 8 months

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Es T1 Cover - Hibana

Hey there! Milgram covers, huh? They're really interesting! I've decided to look at all of them and give my thoughts on each, and while I thought about doing it all in just one post, I'm gonna separate them because why not. Anyways, this time I'll talk about Es' only cover (of songs not originally from Milgram), Hibana! Let's see how our favorite Warden connects to this song.

CW Allusions to guns and shooting

(Note: 'Hibana' means spark)

Hibana has the singer speaking to their lover about an issue with their relationship, which is how the lover struggles to express their opinions and make decisions for fear of disagreeing with the singer.

Now now, time to mute all complaints, Hesitating over stupid things.

(Translation)

Basically, they consider a love without disagreements "incomplete." If you truly love someone, then you have to accept their views even when you disagree, right? To love someone fully, you need to know them fully.

It’s “incomplete”, I’ll say it time and time again. nanananananananana Amidst a love that missed hitting “NO”

Even if it causes the singer anxiety and distress by the nature of disagreements, it's needed for their relationship to flourish. The spark in the title refers to the spark of love, but also to the spark of two objects colliding with each other.

I don’t want to harbor a love that will never end, Come on, properly fill me more with anxiety. I’d like you to act your part at peek a boo, Come on, answer to what I ask more properly!

I don’t want to love a weak-minded love, Come on, make it hurt more properly. Going so far it’s no longer funny, is surely much more enjoyable, Come on, melt me more properly!

(Note: Peek a boo is a game where you hide with your hands, but then reveal your face again. Thus, 'playing their part at peek a boo' means revealing their 'face', their opinions)

You can sorta see where the connection to Es is, once you consider most of these songs are abstracted so the romantic/sexual partner represents something else and the relationship is not literal. Es is singing this to themselves, asking themselves to be sure and confident in their judgement of the prisoners. That's what the love likely represents, too. Es doesn't want to hesitate, they want to be able to forgive and not forgive with the conviction a Good Warden ought to have.

[Imposter Boulevard] (Kazui T2 VD) Es: I'm the Guard. If I forgive you, I forgive you. If I don't, I don't. There's no other factors to it.

[Baptism of Fire] (Fuuta T2 VD) Es: I am the Guard of MILGRAM, the one who judges your sins. It's not just you and Mahiru – I've faced all ten of you prisoners with my own life. Don't lump me in with someone like you, who used someone's sins for cheap entertainment!

Steadfast in their opinions, not to be swayed by whatever the prisoners say, not to let themselves get tempted by the idea of compromise. They can't be a perfectionist, they need to be unafraid of mistakes.

Knock knock, ‘with this it's a tie’, Confined within unfilled time. Perfectionism turns smoky, With an echoing voice I’m feeling vertigo and monotony.

But there's also an interesting implication. Because the disagreement and the steadfast opinions are necessary, but they're also distressing. In the song's original context, that's just the nature of disagreement, but here Es would be disagreeing with themselves.

Shoot up that head...

The imagery of shooting in the head referenced in the song art is about this anxiety and hurt induced by disagreement.

But for Es, they're stressed by the weight of their decisions, by the impact their judgement can have on the prisoners. Hibana brings up this conflict front and center.

[TASK] (Kotoko T1 VD) Kotoko: You are not the executioner who convicts people for their sin. The person who offers to save the murderers who deserve to be forgiven.. It's also you. Es: Aaah.. Mm.. *shallow gasping* K: Come, Es… then, listen to my sin… E: *gasp* Prisoner number 10.. Kotoko.. Come..! Sing… your… sins… *sob*

[Baptism of Fire] Es: I didn't wish for you to get a punishment like this! And I didn't instruct Kotoko to do that, either. Punishments executed through violence… Fuuta: Huh… E: I didn't think it would turn out this way.

[Love is (Un)Dead] (Mahiru 2nd VD)] Es: …I'm sorry. I'm responsible for the fact that you've ended up like this. Mahiru:*Coughing, heavy breathing* E: It was my decision not to forgive you. I don't intend to deny that. But… the fact that I couldn't predict Kotoko's actions was a failure on my end. M:*Heavy breathing* E: If I had known that it would turn out like this… [...] M: Yeah. Es-kun, you're working so hard… You're doing great. E: ...! M: …Oh my… are you crying? Es-kun…

God I love Es so much. I am so mad we don't have a cover specifically for them in Trial 2.

Anyways, that's the gist of it. Since these songs weren't written for Milgram, analyzing the general themes and topics is more important than going deep into each and every lyric, so I think this is a decent overview of this one. Hope it was good enough! Take care!

#milgram #es milgram #000 #hibana cover #i have a few of these written already so i might end up spam posting them a bit #cw guns #cw shooting #i finally got to talk a bit about the funny warden child! let's go!

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tvckerwash · 5 months

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I'm thinking about price again my dudes. like I honestly don't think he was a bad guy or that he had bad intentions. he—like everyone else involved in project freelancer—choose to wholeheartedly believe in the director, and he genuinely thought that an out of the box/unconventional solution like project freelancer could've been the key to winning the war.

I also think that he did genuinely want the best for the freelancers, and that his psychological experiments were not intended to result in the outcomes that they did. I don't think price wanted to see /his/ freelancer agents that he personally hand-picked fail—or continually be put into positions that would result in failure, but, unfortunately, he was at the mercy of the director's whims and a fundamentally broken system as much as the agent's themselves were.

when I look at the way he interacts with wash in recovery one and s6, I don't see someone who is doing what he is solely due to underlying ulterior motives. like don't get me wrong, price didn't trust wash, and the extensive therapy sessions did have hidden agendas, but I think he really did want to see wash up and running again, and he does express some level of remorse over the whole epsilon incident along with south betraying wash and shooting him in the back. but again, unfortunately for price, he's dealing with a man who already had an inherent dislike of people poking around inside his head, who also doesn't want to beat around the bush and deal with all of price's bullshit therapy jargon because he's fine, so just give him a gun and tell him where to shoot.

at the end of s6, price wanted to negotiate with wash and meta, but unfortunately (for the umpteenth time), he was dealing with 3 people who were far past the point of negotiating and already had their minds made up. wash was prepared to die if it meant the destruction of freelancer and the meta, the meta was prepared to do anything he was asked if it would lead him to the alpha, and the director was prepared to continue using his agent's to carry out his personal agenda and eliminate those who got in his way.

then price gets sent to jail, left to rot by the man who he trusted. some years pass and he hears about how a group of colorful soldiers brought the director to justice, and then the prison transport ship he's called home gets hijacked by some mercenaries, and finding himself free (relatively speaking) for the first time in a very long time, he decides he's not taking any chances.

sharkface was doomed to die—price made sure to direct his single focused rage and desire for revenge towards agent carolina, for she had always been an empathetic and deeply caring woman even if she wasn't the best at showing it, and her competitive nature was an easy and obvious exploit. unfortunately for sharkface though, with all of his attention on carolina, that meant that agent washington would fall off his radar, and he would have no problem delivering the finishing blow that carolina herself couldn't—wash is a pragmatic man first and foremost, and he has no qualms about killing people if they pose a danger to himself and those close to him, and unlike carolina he only let's his emotions get the better of him in the field when he can logically justify his actions to himself as being unrelated to his feelings.

locus is a man who has been irreparably scarred by the great war along with so many others, and he has no sense of identity outside of being a soldier. his interest (and subsequent disappointment and anger) over agent washington not accepting him as a fellow soldier is very telling. price wonders what locus would think if he told him that agent washington had been court-martialed and demoted prior to being recruited for freelancer for disobeying orders and attacking his CO.

when locus has a sudden interest in the meta, he decides to take the opportunity to sow the seeds of doubt and open locus' eyes to the truth of his partnership with felix, and how the other man wants locus to stay a broken, mindless soldier when he does not need to be one. after all, price is and always will be a counselor, and while he thoroughly failed at his job in the past due to things that were both in and out of his control, here he sees a chance to do some good and make amends on his own terms.

#rvb #red vs blue #aiden price #the counselor #agent washington #samuel ortez #I wrote two whole blurbs relating to locus so thats enough to tag him in my book lol #im literally the only person on the planet having thoughts about price. he's got sm potential and its just wasted #pure copuim but i would kill for him to have survived the tartarus crashing and make an appearance in restoration #i guess im a counselor enjoyer now? idk #mine

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exoticalmonde · 6 months

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Part III. Hortus de Escapismo Dr. Evealia's Reaction

Transcribed: [The executor suddenly points.

Federico: Come out.

Lively Child: Ah... he found us.]

They are so cute but god do I need Executor with his gun pointed at the little kids and their reaction being... 0. Like, absolutely not impressed and simply disappointed he did find them so quickly.

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READ MORE to find out what happens to the cute little blue-haired child with the adorable duck sock puppet by clicking this funky little button.

(But WARNING, the following post contains spoilers about the entire Hortus de Escapismo event, including the story, art and my commentary. I think this part is covering HE-4 to the first half of HE-6)

THEY ALMOST FREAKING EXPLODE THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS HOLY MOLY STOP TRYING TO GIVE ME HEART ATTACKS ONE OF THOSE WILL BE REAL!!!

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No... My heart, oh no, not the flowers...

Transcribed: [Gerald once said the Sakraz have no home, only war that follows them wherever they go. They swore to their lord in the hope of finding a home of their own.]

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Oh Clément I am so sorry... Stupid wench was she the one who set the chapel on fire? Is she even capable of using that kind of arts? Or is this an illusion? I am actually really heartbroken, I like Clément and I was really happy that he existed as a fellow Felafia, but... Why is it just not working out for this guy?

I'll get you a greenhouse with all you need it in babo, stay strong.

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Yeah, my heart is.

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Transcribed: [Race is not proof of innocence. I would not hesitate to destroy the sacrarium if I thought it necessary.]

*Hands Federico the 'best not racist' award*

Or ultimately

*Hands Federico the 'most racist' award*

At this point I don't know, but you do what you're doing.

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Hey, the baby ducks found a new mom.

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Transcribed: [

Lemuen: Quiet. This is a resedential area. You'll bother the others.

Twisted Monster: (Growls)]

You know what, forget the whole 'amazing strong character' trope that Arknights has going on for everybody, can we just sit and enjoy the fact they always talk to themselves, or to something that is supposedly incapable of understanding them the same way every person speaks to their pets. They don't expect a reaction, and in moments where it FEELS like it was a reaction they have a kick out of it, but otherwise they're... so sweet to watch. In a horrendeous and terribly traumatic way.

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Transcribed: [The Executor kneels down. No one pays attention to the dirt on the edge of his robe, and the adornments that represent his status.

Federico Giallo gazes straight into the children's eyes.

Federico: The disappearence of an inhabitant is within the scope of my mission.

Federico: Yes, I will find your mother.]

What a wonderful, wonderful, amazing scene. To watch Federico retain his personality but also grow as a character after being introduced to his tasks in the new role he carries is so refreshing. Reading the story feels so short, the levels are hell, but the way he is growing is GOOD and well-paced.

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Honestly, bast scene. I don't care what terrors and sadness or how cool they will be, this is peak interaction.

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[Quite the lady's man, aren't you?]

GERALD YOU TEASE!

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Shots fired, yet no guns were raised.

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What do I feel about Aulus apart from the fact he kind of reminds me of a taller Pantalone (Genshin Impact)? He fed the creature, he protects it and then just shows up here and there to talk to people and refuses to elaborate. What is your plan? What are you even doing with your life, Father Aulus?

Though guys, I think he found the coolest stick...

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SHE STOOD! SHE STOOD UP!! LEMUEN???? STOOD UP??? FROM HER WHEELCHAIR????

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[You may not set foot in Paradise.]

LOOK AT HER GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

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[The thin door plank is pushed open from the outside.]

I want to die.

ANYTHING BUT THAT PLEASE

[The unsuspected visitors do not disturb their soft breathing.]

[It falls into the soft, meek little 'prison'.]

Wait a second...?

[Twisted Monster: Eren... Sara...]

Oh thank GOODNESS, my heart was about to leap out from my chest. What a rollercoaster. I am so glad they're safe, thank you.

#arknights #doctor of ri shenanigans #arknights event #doctor arknights #Arknights Hortus de Escapismo #Arknights Operators #Arknights Lemuen #Arknights Insider #Arknights Executor #Arknights Event Reaction #Dr. Eve's babbles #Dr. is having a hard time not feeling really sad right now #HE-4 to He-5

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paradoxcase · 7 months

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Chapter 50 of Harrow the Ninth

Well, I mean, maybe. If you get resurrected, like I said in the last writeup, that does probably clear space for a new character to appear

So, Wake possessed Cytherea's body, probably starting from when Harrow stabbed the body with the sword a second time, I would guess. This doesn't make sense to me for a couple of reasons, though: 1) How could Wake be simultaneously piloting around Cytherea's body while also fighting Nonius in the River bubble? It seems like her soul would have to be in two different places simutaneously for that to happen, and 2) If Wake already has Cytherea's body, why does she need to kill Harrow and possess her body as well? It's not like she's having trouble using Cytherea to cause chaos. I guess you could maybe argue that the whole Nonius fight just took place while Cytherea was tied up, but I think Wake has been trying to possess Harrow from the beginning of the River bubble stuff

So this point of contention is not about environmental destruction of the Earth, or anything like that, then?

So, apparently the first part is from Henry V, the second part is from the Maori version of the New Zealand national anthem, and the last part is an Eminem lyric. Does BOE use a naming scheme that's like the Puritans who named themselves after entire bible verses, except that instead of using the bible, they use the entire corpus of pre-Resurrection media?

Also, I've been told by people that they are somehow speaking modern English even 10,000 years into the future, does that also go for BOE? Clearly Wake is able to communicate with the other characters without issues. But if this is really just supposed to be the case because John is some kind of micromanager who somehow manages to magically stop language change in the Nine Houses, why would BOE be affected by that? They aren't even in the Nine Houses, and I doubt very much that John cares whether or not they can communicate with him. Anyway, the reason I mention this is that if BOE no longer spoke a language in which these phrases mean anything, they would actually probably work much better as names. The first two seem fine as they are, actually, but I think the Eminem lyric becomes substantially less silly-looking if you don't know what it means. And Wake says "they're dead words", but if she is speaking modern English to John, they aren't really dead words, are they?

This makes zero sense. She's been walking around the Mithraeum with a gun, she's been perfectly capable of killing herself whenever she wanted to do that. Also, does John see himself as a cop?

Was the prison on the Ninth actually intended to be a dummy target for BOE? I don't know how much sense that makes, since like John says, there's nothing on the Ninth except the Tomb, and until the conclusion of this chapter I think he's very sure that no one can use the Tomb against him. So why put a decoy there?

I'm guessing this is a reference to whatever catastrophe happened just before the Resurrection and not, say, the bombs that BOE sent against John's ships?

Would being named after an Evanescence lyric really be any sillier than being named after an Eminem lyric? Honestly, it's probably an improvement in this particular case

So that's an interesting thing, actually - Wake's skeleton was almost certainly converted into a construct for snow leek farming/etc. on the Ninth, so it would have been perfectly human-shaped and mobile, it's not like her bones got buried in the ground or something. Earlier Harrow said that revenants want to inhabit something that's mobile - like a skeleton - or they get bored and leave. So why did she leave her perfectly mobile skeleton to go possess Gideon's sword? Did she only possess the sword when she found out it might leave the planet? What is the thanergy link between Wake's skeleton and the sword in the first place? Or was she just able to possess the sword because it belonged to Gideon?

After reading the entire chapter I'm still not sure what she knows now that she didn't know then. That the Tomb was opened 8 years ago and nothing much happened? I'm guessing she was in on this because she thought opening the Tomb would end the Nine Houses

So Mercy was somehow able to make sperm survive for 12 weeks, but couldn't make the ova last that long? I know thanergy is bad for reproduction, but this is kind of like how Hal 9000 doesn't have all the abilities of modern computers but can somehow beat every human at chess. Or who knows, maybe John's sperm is just special like that

There's something about this story, where Gideon was literally conceived and born just to die, not even properly named, her whole purpose was just to die so that someone else could achieve some end, and then that didn't happen and she was saved from that fate by Commander Wake's death, and then she grew up and independently decided that her whole purpose in life was to die for someone else anyway

Why does he do this? I theorized before that Pyrrha is stil around and he's kind of both of them, so do his eyes betray when he is Gideon versus Pyrrha too and he wants to hide that?

I'm absolutely dying to know exactly what kind of relationship these two(/three?) had/have. They had an affair and they do seem to like each other, but he killed her literally twice now and she very much tried to kill him with the whole incinerator thing. Actually, I mean, speaking of the incinerator incident, when he talked to Harrow after that, did he really think Wake was possessing Harrow? Did he not realize she was actually possessing Cytherea? I think he must have realized she was possessing Cytherea, because of his visits to her before that, but then after the incinerator thing he was talking to Harrow like she was Wake. But I guess Wake was then also in the River bubble doing the two-places at once thing

What Pyrrha died for? I mean, aside from the fact that I think Pyrrha might still be around, actually, wouldn't the official story be that Pyrrha died 10,000 years ago and not 19 years ago?

I love all of Gideon Nav's descriptions of Gideon the First: Gideon Classic, Gideon Senior, Gideon Prime, Gideon, original flavor

Is this the real reason why John seals himself up when they fight the resurrection beasts, so he doesn't bleed blood that could be used to open the Tomb?

So, the original plan was the Gideon's death would, by itself, undo the blood ward and then presumably Mercy or Augustine could come by later to undo all of the other wards? And what actually happened was that there was a thanergy bloom because of the deaths of the 200 children and then Gideon like, I don't know, scraped her knee outside the Tomb once and that undid the blood ward? And Harrow thought she must have figured it out herself somehow?

This is simultaneously so funny and also kind of gross. But the original Deus Apate, like I mean the original Greek one, was really just about distracting God and not about secretly harvesting his sperm to create a baby to bring about the apocalypse, no one needed to specifically seduce Zeus to get him to create babies with absolutely everyone. I thought it was an appropriate reference when it appeared earlier in the story because that was about distracting John, but it feels significantly less apropos here

Did Tamsyn Muir sit down and go, you know what would have been really cool? You know what would have been really great? It would have been just awesome if Darth Vader had cracked a dad joke at the end of Return of the Jedi, I'm so mad he didn't do that

Things that are still not resolved as of this chapter:

What does Gideon's eye color mean?

Why were Mercy and Augustine trying to open the Tomb?

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth

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