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#double the fear-being captured and having allowed it to happen
lou-struck · 2 years
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Re: Enchanted Pudding Part 1
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Obey Me! x MC!
Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan
Part 2, 3
~ I loved the Enchanted Pudding Devilgram story and wanted to do what I think the brothers and the Datables would do if they had uninterrupted time with MC after they accidentally had a bite of Lunatic pudding.
Lucifer~
He finds you doubled over in the doorway of the house of lamination trying to catch your breath after running all the way from the castle with a trail of Lesser demons and incubi who have all been enthralled by your increased pheromone production on your tail.
It only takes a stern glare in the direction of your pursuers to get them to scatter but as he looks you over he notices that you smell better than normal.
Your breath comes out in exhausted pants as you try to explain to him that you accidentally had another bite of the Lunatic Pudding. he understands immediately but the irresistible smell your are giving off makes him only want to keep you in his arms till the end of time.
“Mc, my desires to hold you and keep you close are only amplified.” he says softly, a heavy blush on his fair skin. “Until the effects of the Pudding wear off I’m keeping you at my side. I simply cannot allow anyone else to touch what's mine."
His soothingly protective words wash over your fatigued body as the events of the day catch up with you. Now that you are no longer in danger of being hunted down you can rest easy. Lucifer captures your tired form in an gentle embrace just as you legs give out beneath you.
You give him a tired nod as he carries you bridal style up the stairs and into his study. Once magically barricaded in the room, he keeps your dozing form secure on his lap while he attempts to get a bit of work done. But you just smell so good, it makes him feel a little lightheaded and dizzy.
He doesn't even make it halfway through the first document before his eyes start to droop and his head falls into the crook of your neck where he stays for the rest of the night.
Mammon~
Right when Mammon enters the RAD cafeteria he can tell something is up. Your bookbag is left abandoned at your usual table along with a barely touched cup of Pudding as a few Lesser demons whisper amongst themselves glancing between Mammon and the hallway.
It's only when an intoxicatingly sweet aroma hits his nose he realizes what is going on.
That sweet smell belongs to you, his human, and it smells almost like how it did when Lord Diavolo gave you a bite of his Pudding...
In a flash Mammon takes off down the hallway following the trail of your pheromones using his superior speed to surpass  Demon after Demon who have dark intentions written all over their faces.
He finally is able to find you running through a corridor without your uniform jacket. His senses get the better of him as he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him as you scream, blindly twisting in his hold in fear. Seeing you react this way to him breaks his heart, and he vows that no matter how good you smell, he will keep his Treasure safe.
"MC, its me, The Great Mammon. Yer Okay, I got ya." he soothes as you peak open your teary eyes and meet his blue-gold ones. Upon seeing the Avatar of greed your chest heaves in relief as you sob into his jacket. His hands run up your arms trying to calm you down enough for you to tell him what happened.
Between gasps you explain that as a prank, one of your classmates switched the labels on your dessert to trick you into eating the forbidden sweet. 
The effects were instantaneous as the demons around you fall victim to the effects of the pudding and begin to chase after you mercilessly. You had to throw your jacket off to throw a few off your trail.
“You did a great job waiting for me. That's my Human." he says a few stay tears from your face has he breathes in deeply inhaling the effects of the pudding. “ Let’s get ya home, i'm not letting anyone else touch what’s mine.”
Leviathan~
Levi gets drawn away from his bedroom after a sweet smell wafted under his doorway. It smells so good and makes him feel so safe it makes him think of you.
Maybe the two of you could curl up in his new beanbags he got off of Akuzon and watch one of those Cheesy romance animes that normies watch
He’s so excited thinking about spending such uninterrupted time with you he doesn't realize that he is blindly following his nose out the front doors of the house on lamination and into on of the sheds in the gardens. That is where he finds you trying to hide yourself.
“Mc, why are you hiding in the Garden? He asks. But as soon as you flinch he realizes that you are scared of something. You cling to The Demon as his face turns beet-red but now that your in his arms he doesn't want to let you go.
You mumble something about accidentally having a bite of Lunatic pudding at RAD and having to find some place to lay low for a while to avoid the lesser demons before they do something Crazy
The Idea of anyone getting to be that close to his Henry angers the Avatar of Envy to no end and he quickly whisks you away to his bedroom so he can keep you all to himself. Levi's room is certainly one of the best places to hide in till the effects of the Pudding wear off since he is always prepped to shut himself away.
There is hundreds of hours of entertainment to enjoy, tons of comfy chairs, a well hidden snack stash, and of course the adorably handsome demon who loves you more than anything.
As you curl up together on the beanbags, he internally curses himself for doing such a normie activity, but any shame or embarrassment he feels dissipates as soon as he gets hit with another waves of your Pheromones as he pulls you closer to him. His face never losing that initial blush as he lulls you to sleep.
As you rest in his arms, he cant take his eyes off of you even for a second. The anime stays ignored as he enjoys the effects that the Lunatic pudding has on the both of you.
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6lostgirl6 · 2 years
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Hey bestie could you please do some Eric Draven dating head canons when you open your requests back up!!!?
I headcanon that Eric never died at the end of the film, he’s basically like Batman and watches over Detroit in order to remove criminals, permanently, and keep the city safe. So in my future writings, the ending of him dying never happened.
Dating Eric Draven HCs
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You met him when you were being harassed by a wanted criminal in an alleyway. During one of his patrols around the city, he found you and proceeded to rescue you with his regular methods, essentially he brutally killed the guy.
When he got a closer look at you, he was absolutely captivated. Not only was it your beauty that captured his attention, but the lack of fear and extreme gratefulness you expressed despite what he did and how he looks. 
He took it upon himself to walk you home, in order to make sure you got there safely and without further trouble. 
After that night, he became obsessed. 
He took it upon himself to look after you, mainly because he was curious about you and the feelings you made him feel. Things he hasn’t felt since he lost Shelly.
When he starts dating you, watching over you doesn’t stop, it honestly gets worse. He is very protective over the things he cares about and he cannot allow anything to happen to you. You were his new reason for happiness. 
His favorite nicknames for you would include; my love, princess/prince/princex, and sweetheart. He is the type of boyfriend that would give you such sweet nicknames because you gave him a second chance at happiness and he appreciates you so much.  
Whenever he’s patrolling around the city, he will send his crow to watch over you in various shifts.
His crow absolutely adores you, it’ll hang out on your shoulder like a feathered guardian while you’re doing anything. 
Being who he is, he is bound to have enemies that would want to bring him down and they will definitely try. In order to bring him down, they would have to bring you down first. 
If you ever get kidnapped or hurt in the process, Eric will not hesitate in going after you in a fit of possessed rage and slaughtering whoever it was that touched you, let alone harm you.
Afterwards, his protectiveness would double. 
When your relationship has already deepened, you end up living with him in the flat that he resides in. You helped fix up the place and had assistance which made him feel like his old self for a while. 
The two of you spend time laying on the floor surrounded by albums and listening to music. Sometimes he’ll let you play some of his old albums he made with his band but he’ll eventually need a break because he starts thinking about the past. 
Some nights, Eric takes you to the roof of his flat and plays his guitar for you, he even wrote a few songs in honor of you and it honestly made you emotional cause the music was so touching and special. 
That doesn’t stop you from asking him to absolutely shred it on his guitar, he’s so talented, you love it when he plays around you. 
He’s very affectionate and his favorite thing is having you on his lap with his ear against your chest, he loves listening to your heartbeat. It keeps him grounded and reminds him that you’re still with him.
Therefore, whenever his mental health goes downhill, pulling him against you and holding him helps him majorly. He’ll grip you tight and press his face against your neck. 
He absolutely loves kissing you and his kisses are so sweet and full of passion. Whenever he wants to kiss you, he will cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks before he pulls your lips against his. 
Whenever his makeup starts coming off or fading, you help redo it for him, sitting on his lap while he has an arm around your waist. 
Eric would never use his powers on you, especially the one that allows him to look through your memories. He respects your privacy and would only do it if you allowed him to when you couldn't get the words out.
He’s a really good listener so whenever you’re feeling down, he’ll hold you and tell you that everything is going to be okay. 
When you can’t get the words out or explain clearly what happened, that’s when Eric would use his powers. Only with your permission though, he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. 
Sometimes you forget that he can heal so when he comes home with literal bullet holes and stab wounds, you totally don’t freak out.
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666herescared · 10 months
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One request I had for clinging peaches is maybe wukong using a type of love potion for macaque to see things his way
Feels a little rape-y, but, sure! I'll try!
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Wukong had taken a while to search for something and Macaque was on edge. Mk was going unresponsive more and more often and that, combined with Wukong's sudden disappearance was scaring the shadow monkey. His ex-partner's impulsive behavior may have calmed down, but it was clear he was still just as obsessive as he was when they dated.
He always insisted that they were free to leave, but macaque knew better. The golden monkey had slipped a necklace onto him while he was asleep that had the same spells as the one he'd given Mk. Of course, the cub blaming himself for Macaque getting taken too was making it even harder to formulate an escape plan.
Speaking of, the kid had started going non-verbal, even when he wasn't unresponsive. He scratched himself randomly, despite the, honestly, excessive grooming, and he seemed to practically power down at random.
Safe to say, the king had overstimulated him. He was terrified to the point even Macaque's muffling charm couldn't silence his heartbeat to his sensitive ears. The six eared monkey had even started using spells he thought he'd have forgotten by now to calm the brunette, but nothing worked for long.
It had been almost two months since Macaque was captured and he hadn't gotten any closer to a get away plan. He was holding the cub in a nest and humming to him when Wukong returned and landed in front of the two.
He cooed and chirped out a greeting before walking past them and into the hut. Macaque shushed the cub as he heard his heartrate and breathing increase and unfurled his ears. Removing the muffling charm allowed him to hear the king cooking something with a tuneless song on his tongue.
He heard pouring and, oddly, bubbling. He listened closer to the liquid, hearing the sound of a glass potion bottle being poured out, then it went quiet. "I know you're listening, Mac." The black furred monkey gasped sharply. "Stop. It isn't going to hurt you." The sage was chuckling. As though he thought roofies weren't anything serious.
If he hadn't known the king when he was young, he would've kept listening. He was shocked with how much freedom the ruler had already given them. It was almost scarier that he laughed off everything instead of getting mad.
That grin hadn't slipped from the golden monkey's maw for longer than two minutes since he'd arrived. Even when either of them spoke out, Wukong just laughed and treated it like banter. He was a monster who thought he was a teddy bear.
Despite everything, Macaque could see the fear in the king's eyes. It almost looked like he was constantly gauging their reactions. Anyone else would think Wukong was oblivious to their fear, but the shadow monkey knew he was trying his best, which made his perceived insanity even more terrifying.
A cheerful chirp knocked the shadow out of his thoughts and brought his eyes to the golden furred immortal. He held Mk protectively on instinct, keeping the unresponsive (unresponsive? When did that happen?) boy close to his chest. "Here, Macaque! A gift for being such a great parental for him!"
The ruler held a tart with a suspiciously pink color out to the other monkey. Macaque ran his hand through the cub's mane and glared at the tart. "You first." He demanded.
Wukong chuckled at the command and joked, "You really think I poisoned it?" before lifting the tart to his lips and biting a small bit. "There. Perfectly edible. Your turn!" The king sounded odd after the bite, but he wasn't doubling over in pain, so he supposed it was fine.
He reached out and took the tart, still too nervous to deny the king. It looked like a perfectly normal tart that someone added neon pink food coloring to. He was terrified by the prospect of biting into the unnaturally colored treat, so he stalled. "What... flavor is this?"
A chuckle came from the ruler, who then answered, "Plum, Plums!" laughing at the alliteration.
Fear was clear on Macaque's face as he questioned, "Then... why is it pink?"
"That's just because of the species I used." Wukong brushed off, returning to staring at the cub in Macaque's lap. The darkest monkey had to resist the urge to hide hi the kid from the sage's eyes. "Aren't plums your favorite?" The obsessive joy slipped into possessive love as the king's eyes met his.
Just trying to get the king to leave at this point, the shadow finally started eating the tart. It was delicious, like every treat Wukong made. The fear came from the effects it had. Just the week before, he made cookies with a sleeping potion because the cub was having trouble sleeping. Macaque finished the tart before he could even process his first bite. Dread curled in the black furred monkey's stomach as he remembered the pouring noises.
"Good?" The king returned darkest monkey's attention to him, causing their eyes to meet and- Woah! When did everything start spinning? "Good. It'll only last a week, so, it isn't too bad of me to do! I just want you to calm down a little so you can learn that I'm not gonna hurt you! I promise, I'll never do it again if you don't like it!" The ruler defended his actions, clearly trying to shut up his own moral queries.
The kid managed to turn his head behind him, mind unable to process anything as it remained shut down. It was the only way to escape the fear. The ruler kneeled in front of his mate and cub with a chuckle. "Can I have the cub now, Plums?" He opened his arms, the prospect terrifying Mk, and yet, Macaque handed him over. His brain reactivated as he was handed into the golden monkey's arms. "Hi,~ kiddo."
A relieved sigh left the king as his cub was placed in his hands. He hadn't been able to get a good hug in with his cub since he took in his ex-mate. He gave a trilling chirp as he pulled the kid close, the shadow monkey seeming to return to awareness a moment later. The potion seemed to have settled, and that meant this week would finally be the one where he could have his happy family! "Why are you struggling, cub?"
Throughout the week, Macaque was acting normally, aside from the lessened fear of Wukong and oddly affectionate behavior. The love potion was effective and allowed the sage a chance to talk to his moonlight. His happy little family got to last as long as the week, and even Mk had calmed down a little!
Plums was truly a magician when it came to kids. With Macaque calmed down, Mk seemed to let himself relax a little more. It made him smile to see his shadow and his son laughing together, and hugging without that sense of fearful protectiveness.
Obviously, things returned to normalcy when it wore off, but those moments of calm were enough to lessen the tension in the air. He knew it! He just needed to remind his mate of how much better it was before things went bad!
And of course his cub would calm down eventually! After all...
They had all of eternity!
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Voila! And, I'm sorry that I couldn't quite fit the, "see things his way" bit in there, but that's because Wukong is acting like this out of fear, not pure love. It is fear for those he loves, but it isn't how Macaque would act under my interpretation of a love potion. (A potion that inflicts the person who drank it with more affectionate behavior and thoughts)
Anyways,
Have fun, and happy scrolling!
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istumpysk · 10 months
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Operation Stumpy Re-Read
TWOW: Mercy (Arya)
She woke with a gasp, not knowing who she was, or where. The smell of blood was heavy in her nostrils… or was that her nightmare, lingering? She had dreamed of wolves again, of running through some dark pine forest with a great pack at her hells, hard on the scent of prey. [...] She took a breath to quiet the howling in her heart, trying to remember more of what she'd dreamt, but most of it had gone already. There had been blood in it, though, and a full moon overhead, and a tree that watched her as she ran.
A full moon, with Bran watching, how sweet.
Allow me to revisit an old theory from AFFC.
In 2014, George confirmed Jeyne Westerling will make an appearance in the prologue of The Winds of Winter. I speculated that it seems highly plausible that the tension-filled escort to Casterly Rock will serve as the focus of that chapter.
In case you weren't here for Jaime VII, AFFC, there is significant emphasis placed on how critical that escort is, and what a disaster it would be if Edmure and/or Jeyne were to escape.
Lord Beric may try to free Edmure before they reach the Golden Tooth. Jaime did not want to have to capture Tully for a third time. - Jaime VII, AFFC
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"Show them in." At least the girl did not vanish too. - Jaime VII, AFFC
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When Edmure and the Westerlings departed, four hundred men rode with them; Jaime had doubled the escort again at the last moment. - Jaime VII, AFFC
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"We don't know where the Blackfish is," Jaime reminded him, "but if he can cut Edmure free, he will."
"That will not happen, my lord." Like most innkeeps, Ser Forley was no man's fool. "Scouts and outriders will screen our march, and we'll fortify our camps by night. I have picked ten men to stay with Tully day and night, my best longbowmen. If he should ride so much as a foot off the road, they will loose so many shafts at him that his own mother would take him for a goose." - Jaime VII, AFFC
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"Good." Jaime would as lief have Tully reach Casterly Rock safely, but better dead than fled. - Jaime VII, AFFC
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"—the Young Wolf's widow," Jaime finished, "and twice as dangerous as Edmure if she were ever to escape us." - Jaime VII, AFFC
The problem is, Lady Stoneheart is undermanned and not well positioned to intercept, and the Blackfish is one man against four hundred, so how could Edmure and/or Jeyne possibly escape?
Well, it just so happens that as we progress through Jaime's chapters, we get frequent updates on a certain pack of wolves.
The next day Ser Dermot of the Rainwood returned to the castle, empty-handed. When asked what he'd found, he answered, "Wolves. Hundreds of the bloody beggars." He'd lost two sentries to them. The wolves had come out of the dark to savage them. "Armed men in mail and boiled leather, and yet the beasts had no fear of them. Before he died, Jate said the pack was led by a she-wolf of monstrous size. A direwolf, to hear him tell it. The wolves got in amongst our horse lines too. The bloody bastards killed my favorite bay." - Jaime VII, AFFC
Hundreds of the bloody things!
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
If you are, scroll up, and reread the intro to Arya's first TWOW chapter.
Doesn't it feel like we're being offered a brief glimpse into the events of the prologue?
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Half-light filled the room, grey and gloomy. Shivering, she sat up in bed and ran a hand across her scalp. Stubble bristled against her palm. I need to shave before Izembaro sees. Mercy, I'm Mercy, and tonight I'll be raped and murdered. Her true name was Mercedene, but Mercy was all anyone ever called her…
Get it, get it??
"Some call her that. Some call her other things. The Silent Sister. Mother Merciless. The Hangwoman." - Brienne VIII, AFFC
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"Mycah." Arya stepped away from him. "You don't deserve the gift of mercy." - Arya XIII, ASOS
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The air had grown chilly… and a good thing, else she might have slept all day. It would be just like Mercy to sleep through her own rape.
You know how they made Bran emotionally detached, and socially disconnected?
I'm being totally sincere when I say that's how I would describe Arya in this chapter. It's unsettling, and difficult to read.
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Dipping a rough cloth, she washed herself head to heel, standing on one leg at a time to scrub her calloused feet. 
At least she's bathing.
If you look hard enough you can still find remnants of Arya.
"Syrio says a water dancer can stand on one toe for hours." Her hands flailed at the air to steady herself. - Eddard V, AGOT
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After that she found her razor. A bare scalp helped the wigs fit better, Izembaro claimed.
Arya following in the footsteps of Cersei and Daenerys.
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One of her stockings needed mending, she saw as she pulled it up. She would ask the Snapper for help; her own sewing was so wretched that the wardrobe mistress usually took pity on her.
Again, if you look hard enough you can still find remnants of Arya.
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Last of all she threw her cloak across her shoulders. It was a real mummer's cloak, purple wool lined in red silk, with a hood to keep the rain off, and three secret pockets too. She'd hid some coins in one of those, an iron key in another, a blade in the last.
What's the key? To the sanctum?
One passage was closed off by a heavy iron door. The priest hung the lantern from a hook, slipped a hand inside his robe, and produced an ornate key. - The Ugly Little Girl, ADWD
If it is, I don't think she's supposed to have one of those.
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Most days she preferred to go the long way, down the Ragman's Road along the Outer Harbor, where she had the sea before her and the sky above, and a clear view across the Great Lagoon to the Arsenal and the piney slopes of Sellagoro's Shield. Sailors would hail her as she passed the docks, calling down from the decks of tarry Ibbenese whalers and big-bellied Westerosi cogs. 
Is the harbor your favourite spot, Mercy?
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The long way also took her across the Bridge of Eyes with its carved stone faces.
How could this not have something to do with Bran?
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She heard a cat yowl plaintively. Braavos was a good city for cats, and they roamed everywhere, especially at night. In the fog all cats are grey, Mercy thought. In the fog all men are killers.
Same in the riverlands.
Behind it sat a woman all in grey - Brienne VIII, AFFC
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but the woman in grey had eyes only for the pommel - Brienne VIII, AFFC
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The woman in grey gave no answer. - Brienne VIII, AFFC
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The woman in grey hissed through her fingers. - Brienne VIII, AFFC
The other girl in grey.
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Mercy passed an old man with a lantern walking the other way, and envied him his light. The street was so gloomy she could scarcely see where she was stepping. In the humbler parts of the city, the houses, shops, and warehouses crowded together, leaning on each other like drunken lovers, their upper stories so close that you could step from one balcony to the next. The streets below became dark tunnels where every footfall echoed. The small canals were even more hazardous, since many of the houses that lined them had privies jutting out over the water. 
You'll be fine. I trust you in dark tunnels, child.
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Izembaro loved to give the Sealord's speech from The Merchant's Melancholy Daughter, about how "here the last Titan yet stands, astride the stony shoulders of his brothers," but Mercy preferred the scene where the fat merchant shat on the Sealord's head as he passed underneath in his gold-and-purple barge. Only in Braavos could something like that happen, it was said, and only in Braavos would Sealord and sailor alike howl with laughter to see it.
The Merchant's Melancholy Daughter and the Titan had me thinking this is somehow related to Sansa and Littlefinger, but I have no idea how.
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When Izembaro had first dubbed himself the King of the Mummers, the company had taken a wicked pleasure in it, savoring the outrage of their rivals from the Dome and the Blue Lantern. Of late, though, Izembaro had begun to take his title too seriously. "He will only play kings now," Marro said, rolling his eyes, "and if the play has no king in it, he would sooner not stage it at all." The Bloody Hand offered two kings, the fat one and the boy. Izembaro would play the fat one. It was not a large part, but he had a fine speech as he lay dying, and a splendid fight with a demonic boar before that.
This play is sounding a bit familiar!
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Izembaro was telling everyone that he expected the Gate to be packed to the rafters this evening, despite the fog. "The King of Westeros is sending his envoy to do homage to the King of the Mummers tonight," he told his troupe. "We will not disappoint our fellow monarch."
I doubt Tommen is alive at this point, I'm guessing they haven't received the memo. I could be wrong though.
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Every mummer's troupe had to have a dwarf. He [Bobono] was theirs. When he saw Mercy, he gave her a leer. "Oho," he said, "there she is. Is the little girl all ready for her rape?" He smacked his lips.
There's a dwarf in this play! I wonder what role he'll play.
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The King of the Mummers ignored the brief commotion. He was still talking, telling the mummers how magnificent they must be. Besides the Westerosi envoy, there would be keyholders in the crowd this evening, and famous courtesans as well. He did not intend for them to leave with a poor opinion of the Gate. 
The Westerosi envoy is Harys Swyft, master of coin, and Cersei Lannister's new (old) lapdog. The keyholders are five officials from the Iron Bank.
That seems like a promising sign for Queen Cersei.
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And Bobono's cock was indeed flopping out. It was made to flop out, for the rape. What a hideous thing, Mercy thought as she knelt before the dwarf to fix him. The cock was a foot long and as thick as her arm, big enough to be seen from the highest balcony. The dyer had done a poor job with the leather, though; the thing was a mottled pink and white, with a bulbous head the color of a plum. Mercy pushed it back into Bobono's breeches and laced him back up. "Mercy," he sang as she tied him tight, "Mercy, Mercy, come to my room tonight and make a man of me." "I'll make a eunuch of you if you keep unlacing yourself just so I'll fiddle with your crotch." "We were meant to be together, Mercy," Bobono insisted. "Look, we're just the same height."
Even his manhood was ugly, thick and veined, with a bulbous purple head. - Sansa III, ASOS
This play follows canon better than Game of Thrones.
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He is teasing me, Mercy thought. He's not drunk tonight, he knows the show perfectly well. "We are doing Phario's new Bloody Hand, in honor of the envoy from the Seven Kingdoms." "Now I recall." Bobono lowered his voice to a sinister croak. "The seven-faced god has cheated me," he said. "My noble sire he made of purest gold, and gold he made my siblings, boy and girl. But I am formed of darker stuff, of bones and blood and clay, twisted into this rude shape you see before you." With that, he grabbed at her chest, fumbling for a nipple. "You have no titties. How can I rape a girl with no titties?" She caught his nose between her thumb and forefinger and twisted. "You'll have no nose until you get your hands off me." "Owwwww," the dwarf squealed, releasing her. "I'll grow titties in a year or two." Mercy rose, to tower over the little man. "But you'll never grow another nose. You think of that, before you touch me there." Bobono rubbed his tender nose. "There's no need to get so shy. I'll be raping you soon enough." "Not until the second act."
"I always give Wendeyne's titties a nice squeeze when I rape her in The Anguish of the Archon," the dwarf complained. "She likes it, and the pit does too. You have to please the pit."
Honestly, what compelled George R. R. Martin to write this?
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Daena recognized some Gate regulars in the crowd, and pointed them out for her; the dyer Dellono with his pinched white face and mottled purple hands, Galeo the sausage-maker in his greasy leather apron, tall Tomarro with his pet rat on his shoulder. "Tomarro best not let Galeo see that rat," Daena warned. "That's the only meat he puts in them sausages, I hear." Mercy covered her mouth and laughed.
Hide the rat!
Not that it matters, but I'm a little thrown off by a Braavosi mummer having a Targaryen name.
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The Sealord had never visited the Gate, but Izembaro named a box for him anyway, the largest and most opulent in the house. "That must be the Westerosi envoy. Have you ever seen such clothes on an old man? And look, he's brought the Black Pearl!"
[...]
"They should call her the Brown Pearl," Mercy said to Daena. "She's more brown than black." "The first Black Pearl was black as a pot of ink," said Daena. "She was a pirate queen, fathered by a Sealord's son on a princess from the Summer Isles. A dragon king from Westeros took her for his lover." "I would like to see a dragon," Mercy said wistfully.
Be careful what you wish for.
I still don't understand the purpose of all this Black Pearl x Targaryen backstory.
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"Why does the envoy have a chicken on his chest?"
Daena howled. "Mercy, don't you know anything? It's his siggle. In the Sunset Kingdoms all the lords have siggles. Some have flowers, some have fish, some have bears and elks and other things. See, the envoy's guards are wearing lions."
It wouldn't be an Arya chapter if she wasn't struggling to identify a sigil.
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There were four guards; big, hard-looking men in ringmail, with heavy Westerosi longswords sheathed at their hips. Their crimson cloaks were bordered in whorls of gold, and golden lions with red garnet eyes clasped each cloak at the shoulder. When Mercy glanced at the faces beneath the gilded, lion-crested helm, her belly gave a quiver. The gods have given me a gift.
Uh oh!
Dunsen, Polliver, Chiswyck, Raff the Sweetling. The Tickler and the Hound. Ser Amory, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei.
+.+.+
"What of him? Do you know him?" "No." Mercy had been born and bred in Braavos, how could she know some Westerosi? She had to think a moment. "It's only… well, he's fair to look on, don't you think?" He was, in a rough-hewn way, though his eyes were hard. Daena shrugged. "He's very old. Not so old as the other ones, but… he could be thirty. And Westerosi. They're terrible savages, Mercy. Best stay well away from his sort."
George thinks calling the westerners savages one time is going to save him from criticism.
Every time a young girl calls 30-year-old men old, I smile.
+.+.+
"If the Snapper comes looking for me, tell her that I went off to read my lines again." She only had a few, and most were just, "Oh, no, no, no," and "Don't, oh don't, don't touch me," and "Please, m'lord, I am still a maiden," but this was the first time Izembaro had given her any lines at all, so it was only to be expected that poor Mercy would want to get them right.
Good lord.
What do we know about this play? We know a dwarf playing Tyrion is going to rape the maiden Mercy is playing. Any guesses who that might be?
I know what you're thinking, but it's probably not Sansa.
Mercy, I'm Mercy, and tonight I'll be raped and murdered.
Sansa wasn't murdered, and she'd have more lines.
+.+.+
"Seven hells, this place is damp," she heard her guard complain. "I'm chilled to the bones. Where are the bloody orange trees? I always heard there were orange trees in the Free Cities. Lemons and limes. Pomegranates. Hot peppers, warm nights, girls with bare bellies. Where are the bare-bellied girls, I ask you?" "Down in Lys, and Myr, and Old Volantis," the other guard replied. He was an older man, big-bellied and grizzled. "I went to Lys with Lord Tywin once, when he was Hand to Aerys. Braavos is north of King's Landing, fool. Can't you read a bloody map?"
Is that George R. R. Martin trolling his own fanbase?
+.+.+
"How long do you think we'll be here?"
"Longer than you'd like," the old man replied. "If he goes back without the gold the queen will have his head.
In case you missed ADWD's Epilogue, that is a pretty blatant spoiler sitting in plain sight.
Harys Swyft wasn't to travel to Braavos until after Cersei's trial, an event where there's a possibility she'll be executed.
Now he finds himself in Braavos, facing the prospect of losing his head if he doesn't retrieve gold for a queen. Doesn't sound like Margaery Tyrell, does it? Looks like Cersei Lannister managed to survive!
We're now forced to ask ourselves why Margaery Tyrell (Queen), Mace Tyrell (Hand of the King), Randyll Tarly (Master of laws), Paxter Redwyne (Master of ships - not currently in King's Landing, but I'm making a point), and the High Sparrow (High Septon of the Faith of the Seven) are suddenly granting Cersei Lannister the authority to do anything at all.
I have a theory: they're dead, she killed most of them at the trial.
+.+.+
"Longer than you'd like," the old man replied. "If he goes back without the gold the queen will have his head. Besides, I seen that wife of his. There's steps in Casterly Rock she can't go down for fear she'd get stuck, that's how fat she is. Who'd go back to that, when he has his sooty queen?"
For some reason, we're getting additional information about Harys Swyft's unknown wife. That tells me we might be seeing both her and Dorna Swyft in King's Landing soon (Kevan's funeral?).
"Hardstone has cleared the broken men from Darry castle," he replied. "Lancel's bride awaits us there."
"Will your lady wife (Dorna) be joining you for the nuptials?" - Cersei III, AFFC
x
"Your wife … do you mean to bring her to court?"
"No." Dorna was a gentle soul, never comfortable but at home with friends and kin around her. - Epilogue, ADWD
That should please Cersei.
+.+.+
When the dwarf appeared suddenly from behind a wooden tombstone, the crowd began to hiss and curse. Bobono waddled to the front of the stage and leered at them. "The seven-faced god has cheated me," he began, snarling the words. "My noble sire he made of purest gold, and gold he made my siblings, boy and girl. But I am formed of darker stuff, of bones and blood and clay…"
By then Marro had appeared behind him, gaunt and terrible in the Stranger's long black robes. His face was black as well, his teeth red and shiny with blood, while ivory horns jutted upwards from his brow. Bobono could not see him, but the balconies could, and now the pit as well. The Gate grew deathly quiet. Marro moved forward silently.
A mummer playing the Stranger appears behind Tyrion?
This brings me immense joy.
+.+.+
So did Mercy. The costumes were all hung, and the Snapper was busy sewing Daena into her gown for the court scene, so Mercy's absence should not be noted. Quiet as a shadow, she slipped around the back again, up to where the guardsmen stood outside the envoy's box. 
Again, if you look hard enough you can still find remnants of Arya.
+.+.+
On stage, Bobono was bargaining with Marro's sinister Stranger. He had a big voice for such a little man, and he made it ring off the highest rafters now. "Give me the cup," he told the Stranger, "for I shall drink deep. And if it tastes of gold and lion’s blood, so much the better. As I cannot be the hero, let me be the monster, and lesson them in fear in place of love."
Bargaining with the Stranger? No damnit, hold firm, Stranger.
What is this drinking deep? Cersei and Jaime poison things? Joffrey's cup? I don't understand this.
Also, that last line sounds like something Daenerys might say.
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+.+.+
She studied it carefully, to be sure. Am I too young for him? she wondered. Too plain? Too skinny? She hoped he wasn't the sort of man who liked big breasts on a girl. Bobono had been right about her chest. It would be best if I could take him back to my place, have him all to myself. But will he come with me?
He'll want me or he won't, she thought, so let the play begin. 
x
Fuss and feathers, Mercy thought, they only know the Common Tongue. That was no good. Give it up or go ahead. She could not give it up. She wanted him so bad.
Are you having fun yet?
+.+.+
Mercy looked down at her feet, so shy. "Izembaro said to please the lords," she whispered. "If there is anything you want, anything at all…" The two guardsmen exchanged a look. Then the handsome one reached out and touched her breast. "Anything?" "You’re disgusting," said the older man. "Why? If this Izembaro wants to be hospitable, it would be rude to refuse." He gave her nipple a tweak through the fabric of her dress, just the way the dwarf had done when she was fixing his cock for him. "Mummers are the next best thing to whores." "Might be, but this one is a child." "I am not," lied Mercy. "I'm a maiden now." "Not for long," said the comely one. "I'm Lord Rafford, sweetling, and I know just what I want. Hike up those skirts now, and lean back against that wall."
"Not here," Mercy said, brushing his hands away. "Not where the play is on. I might cry out, and Izembaro would be mad."
Isn't this awesome?
+.+.+
He grabbed her wrist. "I'll do the teaching. Time for your first lesson." He pulled her hard against him and kissed her on the lips, forcing his tongue into her mouth. It was all wet and slimy, like an eel. Mercy licked it with her own tongue, then broke away from him, breathless. "Not here. Someone might see. My room's not far, but hurry. I have to be back before the second act, or I'll miss my rape."
She's so incredibly badass, isn't she?
+.+.+
"Mercy," he said. "My name is Raff."
"I know." She slipped her hand between his legs, and felt how hard he was through the wool of his breeches.
"The laces," he urged her. "Be a sweet girl and undo them." Instead she slid her finger down along the inside of his thigh. He gave a grunt. "Damn, be careful there, you —"
Mercy gave a gasp and stepped away, her face confused and frightened. "You're bleeding."
"Wha —" He looked down at himself. "Gods be good. What did you do to me, you little cunt?" The red stain spread across his thigh, soaking the heavy fabric.
The creators of Game of Thrones would like you to cheer now.
+.+.+
"Mother have mercy, girl. A healer… run and find a healer, quick now."
"There's one on the next canal, but he won't come. You have to go to him. Can't you walk?"
"Walk?" His fingers were slick with blood. "Are you blind, girl? I'm bleeding like a stuck pig. I can't walk on this."
"Well," she said, "I don't know how you'll get there, then."
"You'll need to carry me."
See? thought Mercy. You know your line, and so do I.
"Think so?" asked Arya, sweetly.
Raff the Sweetling looked up sharply as the long thin blade came sliding from her sleeve. She slipped it through his throat beneath the chin, twisted, and ripped it back out sideways with a single smooth slash. A fine red rain followed, and in his eyes the light went out.
There's Arya! Doing Arya things.
Earlier:
"You could be a mummer, if you wanted," she told him, as he pressed her up against the wall of the playhouse.
"Me?" The guardsman snorted. "Not me, girl. All that bloody talking, I wouldn't remember half of it."
"It's hard at first," she admitted. "But after a time it comes easier. I could teach you to say a line. I could."
Annndddd much earlier than that:
"Can you walk?" He sounded concerned.
"No," said Lommy. "You got to carry me."
"Think so?" The man lifted his spear casually and drove the point through the boy's soft throat. Lommy never even had time to yield again. He jerked once, and that was all. - Arya V, ACOK
Rest in hell, Raff the Sweetling.
+.+.+
"Mercy, Mercy, Mercy," she sang sadly. A foolish, giddy girl she'd been, but good hearted. She would miss her, and she would miss Daena and the Snapper and the rest, even Izembaro and Bobono. This would make trouble for the Sealord and the envoy with the chicken on his chest, she did not doubt. She would think about that later, though. Just now, there was no time. I had best run. Mercy still had some lines to say, her first lines and her last, and Izembaro would have her pretty little empty head if she were late for her own rape.
Make trouble for the Sealord and the envoy? Is the Iron Bank going to be forced to give Harys Swyft money to make up for this? Cersei Lannister, you never lose. Lol.
Anyway, notice how the author intentionally made that impossible to enjoy? Apparently David & Dan didn't.
Final thoughts:
And so, we reach the end of the last Arya chapter, a character who holds a special place in my heart.
Before we proceed, I'd like to take a moment to express my gratitude to someone without whom this reread project wouldn't have been possible.
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Thank you, friend. We'll meet again someday.
Next chapter: Arianne II
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sirowsky · 2 years
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Part 14 - Family Matters
Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU
Pero and your father are now both captured, leaving you with the terrifying task of trying to rescue them...
Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I’m happy to elaborate on what to expect from this part via DM.
Word Count: 6036 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist
<><><><><><><><><>
   It was advantageous at times, having a father that was usually both the tallest and broadest person in the room, and especially when you yourself were quite small in comparison.    The hallways of the factory were narrow, and you were behind Dean, when the tranquilizer dart bounced off his protected chest and over his shoulder, landing by your feet.
   It wasn’t all that surprising that they might want you alive, because Pero would never agree to work for them unless they had something to hold over his head. What was surprising was that they apparently already knew that you were coming.
   The dogs immediately reacted, setting off in the direction the shot had come from, effectively stopping the men hiding at the end of the hall from taking another shot, instead forced to come up with a way to avoid a canine close encounter.    Meanwhile, your dad signalled you to retreat, and even though you knew that he wouldn’t follow, that he was gonna act as a distraction, you followed his command without question.
   He had to know that you would, that he could trust your responses, so that he could act without fear or lack of focus. So, you doubled back and headed down a parallel corridor on the other side of some offices, stopping when you’d circled around to the same hall that the men had been hiding in, which connected to where your father still was.    By then, the men had already advanced, apparently managing to corral the dogs into one of the empty offices, before going after Dean.
   You stayed hidden but listened closely to the struggle taking place just two corridors away, knowing you couldn’t interfere, but needing to know that your father at least survived the fight.    The barking drowned out a lot of the details, but once it was over, you caught a glimpse of him being led away, presumably to meet the owners, and he didn’t seem even an ounce weaker or damaged at all.
   On the contrary, he was making sure that all four hands were required to hold him, which meant that neither men could stay to look for you.    You’d counted ten bodies on the way to this floor, and considering what you knew about this company, there couldn’t be that many more operatives around.    So, you carefully followed the trio, trusting that they’d at least lead you to where Pero was likely being held.
   Your plan was to gather intel, figure out where everyone was, if whatever security system had alerted them to your presence was positioned all over the place or just at the entrances, and most importantly, how many enemies were still standing.    Once you knew all that, you could begin to work on a real plan.    You briefly considered letting the dogs out, but it was easier to hide one person than one person and two dogs, so you left them wherever they were trapped, for now.
   You kept scanning the ceiling, corners of the halls and ventilation grates as you snuck after the men, looking for signs of cameras or sensors, but it wasn’t until you’d entered the next floor that you spotted a camera at a T-junction that connected two hallways.    Bingo. That had to mean that this floor was more important than the previous, meaning there was a good chance that your targets were here somewhere.
   The problem now was, how to get to them without being seen?    The camera appeared to be fixed in one direction, though, which was good. But that direction happened to be the corridor that you were currently in, which was bad.    You’d dived for cover the moment you’d noticed it, and were now huddling in a broom-closet, where the door fortunately opened away from the camera, allowing you to keep it slightly ajar while you scanned the closest area for something useful.
   And low and behold, there was a door right opposite the closet, labelled ‘Danger, High Voltage’.    You guessed that it would lead to a tiny floor-management system for electronics, probably little more than a fuse-box, but that would do perfectly. Except for the fact that this would be a one-time-trick.    Once you’d cut the power, you’d effectively have revealed your presence, so you’d have to make it count.
   Just as that thought occurred to you, you suddenly heard Groot bark, probably because your father had been brought into a room where the animal could see him and became stressed by the inability to aid him.    If only he’d known that he’d just told you exactly where you needed to go.    You memorized the direction from which you’d heard him, took a steadying breath, and dove for the ‘Danger’ door.
   It didn’t occur to you that it might’ve been locked until your hand closed around the handle and found it open, but you quickly located the main breakers, six of them, and shut them all down, leaving the entire floor in complete darkness.    The only light you could see came from the slit under the door to the stairwell, which wasn’t nearly enough to offer even a guiding light to anyone moving through the halls.
   Stage one complete, you retreated into the broom-closet, drew your weapon, and waited.    Sure enough, less than a minute later, someone came to investigate, moving carefully by the sounds of it, but coming right up to the fuse-box room and switching them back on.    You only took one glance, one quick peek to make sure that it was indeed a baddie, and then you took the headshot, watching one of the men from before as he dropped dead.
   Something inside you wanted to freeze, to stare at what you’d done and be appalled with yourself, to throw up and revolt against the terrible wrongness of it.    But something else, something much stronger, overpowered that feeling. Drowning it under a crushing weight of necessity, of being forced into such desperate measures, and most of all… under the absolute need to get Pero back.
   For a fraction of a second, while these two forces battled within you, you had a sudden insight that was jarring, but so fleeting that you couldn’t quite discern what it was.    Your forehead and hands turned cold and clammy, and something heavy seemed to settle into your gut. Something you felt like you already knew the name of, but which kept dancing around the edges of your conscious mind, just out of reach.    All you knew was that it had something to do with that overbearing need.
   Then it was gone, and you moved.    But you only got so far as to turn in the direction of the camera, before a figure was suddenly right in front of you, and something blunt connected to your forehead.    Everything went dark, but it seemed like only moments later that light was poking at your eyes again, suddenly feeling so sharp, and it soon dawned on you that it was because your head was throbbing so badly that you feared it would split open.
   You groaned almost involuntarily as you tried to lift your head, but the ‘fuuuck…’ that followed was very much a sound of choice.    Gradually, you started getting past the pain, enough that you could begin to discern your surroundings, at least, soon learning that you were laying on a tiled floor in what looked like a disused shower room.
   There were three booths with toilets to your left, and five shower stalls to your right, with two washbasins against the back wall of the room, each with a mirror hanging on the wall above it.    You slowly got to your feet, swaying and repeatedly losing your bearings when razor-sharp bouts of pain washed over you as your blood started pumping harder with the movements, but making your way to the basins anyway.
   The taps worked and the cold water against your forehead offered a slight relief. Looking up at yourself, with your elbows resting against the edge of the basin, you were shocked to see your own face covered in blood. But you soon found a small cut adjacent to the bump on your forehead, and you knew that headwounds generally bled a lot.    You’d been unconscious long enough that it had already stopped bleeding, so you just washed off the dried blood and then quickly inspected yourself for other injuries.
   You didn’t find any, but your bulletproof vest had been removed and unsurprisingly, your weapon was nowhere to be seen.    They hadn’t fiddled with your homemade splint, though, which you might’ve expected, since it would’ve been an easy way to weaken you further, as you would’ve had to shield and protect that hand much more without it.    They probably didn’t consider you a big enough threat that it would make much difference.
   Feeling more balanced after getting cleaned up, probably just because you’d been on your feet for a while by then, you walked over to the door just to check if someone had been stupid enough to leave it open, but no such luck.    Examining the lock, however, left you snickering to yourself, because it wasn’t a deadbolt, just one of those locks that prevented the handle from being turned.
   “What a bunch of morons…” you huffed, as you walked over to one of the booths and picked up the heavy porcelain lid from the toilet reservoir.
<><><><><> 
   The final team and last guards left the room, one after the other, but only one came back.    Fredric studied the surveillance camera feed, and a bemused huff fell from his lips.
   “My, oh my… I’ll admit, I didn’t see that coming.” he mused, before turning the screen to let Pero watch a replay of you killing the guard with a single shot, without flinching. “I might have to offer her a job.”
   But Pero didn’t care about his taunting. All he cared about was that you were unharmed, unafraid, and unwavering. You were leaning on everything your father had taught you, many long years ago, as well as on your own strength and especially the faith you had in yourself.    He’d only seen that confidence in you before when you’d been drawing, but now it was blending with your natural instincts, drawing out the hunter that lived in everyone’s blood, but was kept buried by most, throughout their lives.
   It gave him hope. Like so many things about you had managed to do so many times before.    But then the video-feed showed him how you’d gotten knocked out just a moment later, and rage sprouted its evil thorns into his mind, taking him back to that old train station, to the sight of your broken hand, to the satisfaction of torturing the man responsible.    But he was still afraid of that rage, and instinctively fought it, tried to maintain rational thinking and reasoning, because it wasn’t some average jackass that threatened you this time.
   He was gonna need his brain to fight these men.
   “I can see why you fell for her, man. That’s one devoted woman. But she’s unfortunately also the weakest link in this chain, which is why you’re gonna behave now, aren’t you, Tovar?” Fredric continued, with a hint of smugness evident in his tone.
   Pero just glared at him.
   “Come on, now. Don’t make me go over there and make her scream. Just admit defeat.”
   The final operative walked back into the room then, leisurely cleaning the handle of the knife that he’d used to knock you out, and the rage almost took him. Closing his eyes was the only thing that kept it from drowning him, but he still felt like every breath was suddenly so much heavier than simply moving air in and out.    His own blood was rushing through his ears, like static on a TV turned up to full volume, the adrenaline now flooding his system with so much force that his arms and legs were starting to shake.
   “My daughter is not yours to use however you please!” Dean growled.
   He was just as powerless as Pero, so there was nothing tangible to be gained by entering an argument with their captors, so he had to be doing it to give his adopted son some distraction. A tiny window opened to give him a chance to breathe and regain control of himself, so he tried to make the most of it.    And of course, Oscar took the bait. The man had studied minds for a living, he could never pass up an opportunity to practice his skills in reading people.
   “Your daughter’s value right now is precisely in her usefulness. She’s all but priceless to us at this moment.”
   “How humane of you…” your father spat, glaring at the older brother.
   “I’m aware that from your perspective this must seem completely barbaric, but unfortunately, the work this company does is important to the very fragile political stability of the world.”
   “Then maybe you shouldn’t have sent the last three good operatives in your ranks, on the hunt for the one person on this planet that would sooner destroy you than join up again.” Dean pressed, sounding more than mildly annoyed now.
   “That itself should tell you more than enough about how desperate we are. We had no choice but to drag him back here, because his old colleagues no longer held up to the required standards. They’d gotten lazy. Arrogant about their abilities but living on former glories as their performance kept dwindling.    Tovar, contrarily, continues to have a spotless record, despite not actively training anymore. His abilities have remained sharp. He keeps displaying the exact same effectiveness, speed, sharpness, and appreciation for those skills, that all of his brothers have long since abandoned.    We need him here to show the new recruits how it’s done. How to be a Falcon, because he’s the only real one left.” Oscar blabbered on, further cementing Pero’s opinion that it was all idiotic.
   They were the fucking teachers, if the recruits were as piss-poor as they made it sound, it was entirely their own fault and not in any way Pero’s problem. Did they even care that one of those recruits was in the room, hearing them detail how shit he apparently was at his job?    Before he could ask them, there was a loud noise from somewhere down the hall, and everyone froze to listen. No further noises sounded, and the cameras didn’t seem to pick anything up, but the brothers still sent the last operative to investigate.
<><><><><> 
   You’d easily broken the doorhandle off with just one hard strike with the solid porcelain lid, but you also knew that the sound would alert your captors that something was going on, so you darted from the room as soon as the door was open.    Quickly clocking the camera sitting at the junction between the two hallways, you recognized that this had to be the same floor from before. Only now, you were in the other section, the one that the camera was facing away from.
   That meant that this was where Pero and Dean were being held. They had to be in one of the rooms in this section, which made you reluctant to leave.    But you couldn’t go charging in there having no idea what you’d be met by, you needed more information, and the only way to get it was to try and get one of them alone, in an area that you could control.
   Before you’d had a chance to finish that thought, a door opened at the end of the hall behind you, and a man that looked a bit younger than you stepped out.    He was dressed the same as the man you’d killed, likely his teammate, and without even thinking about it, you decided that he was now your mark. Your target. You were gonna make sure he followed you, and then you were gonna make him regret it.
   The moment he spotted you, you smiled at him and then took off towards the stairwell, not caring that it meant running through the monitored corridor, as long as he took the bait.    You heard him shout something back towards the room he’d come out of, before his heavy footfalls sounded against the carpet as he set off after you.
   The pounding in your head was all but forgotten as you flew down the flights of stairs, trying to remember which floor your father had been caught on, since that was where the dogs still were.    You could hear him behind you, and he was closing in, making you curse the fact that you weren’t at all athletic, beyond enjoying walks or riding a bicycle now and then.
   But as you stepped onto the floor you hoped was the correct one, he was suddenly too close. The corridor that led to the offices was straight and you’d never be able to maintain a safe distance against a well trained and already stronger individual, where his size or weight wouldn’t be of any disadvantage to him at all.
   Again, that same odd insight from before hit you, this time sending something hot through your veins, even as your hands turned cold once more.    A strange kind of clarity filled your mind, chasing away all doubts, all distractions, but not your fear. Instead, that became your focal point. But it wasn’t the fear of losing Pero, or your father, or even your own life, that suddenly flooded your being. This fear was new, but somehow still so familiar and so adamantly real that it shook you to your core.
   And now you understood why it had been on your mind so much recently.    You hadn’t been careful. At all.
   Maternal instinct kicked in with all the grace of a wrecking ball, barrelling through your head and heart, turning every thought and emotion and reaction towards one singular purpose:    Protect your baby.
   As though someone had put a lightning bolt into your body, you felt your own legs pick up a speed that was far beyond what you were normally physically capable of, enabling you to stay ahead of your pursuer, if only just.    Your legs burned as though they were on fire, but you barely even felt it.    Without thinking about it, or at least not in a way that you consciously noticed, you’d brought yourself to the room where the dogs had been trapped.
   Not slowing at all, you grabbed the round knob in passing, just enough to click it open, but that was all they needed.    It only took them seconds to catch up to the man behind you, and as soon as you heard him go down, you hit the brakes and shouted “Hold!”.    Both dogs listened, pausing their attack but maintaining a painfully hard grasp on the guy’s arms, forcing him to stay still on his back as each arm was being pulled away from his torso.
   Your heart was racing in your chest, pounding so hard that it was painful, and your blood had been forced to move so fast that not enough oxygen had managed to go with it, which now sent pins and needles through your limbs and made them tremble.    You took his gun from the holster on his hip, and then gave yourself a minute to just lean against the nearest wall and breathe properly, before you set to work.
   “How many of you are left? How many operatives?” you asked the man that was squirming on the floor, spitting curses and insults at both you and the animals.
   “Enough to kill you, bitch!” he screamed, and you sighed, still leaning against the wall.
   “Alright. Here’s the deal, jackass: Either you tell me what I wanna know, or I leave you here with them.” you said, using the gun to point at each of the dogs. “And they’re not gonna let you go unless I say so.”
   You could see his mind working. The fear of having to lay there for an unknown period of time, with giant canine teeth embedded in the soft tissue of his arms, almost torn to shreds already, squaring off against the fear of being disloyal.    It was a short battle.
   “I’m the last one… it’s just the brothers left. But they’re as good as him, you’ll never stop them.” he tried, but hearing that only made you smile.
   “If they were as good as him, they wouldn’t need him.    Is there any way to shut down the security feed from outside that room?”
   “They run on the auxiliary powerline. You can only access that from the main power-hub on the factory floor. Now, call these fucking dogs off!” he squealed more than screamed, but you had no mercy to spare that night.
   “Sorry, I can’t risk that.”
   For the first time, he showed genuine fear when he glared up at you, as you pushed off the wall to take your position right in front of him.
   “You lying fuck! You said you’d call them off!”
   “No, I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t leave you here alone with them if you told me what I wanted to know. You did, which is why you get to die quickly.” you explained calmly, before taking your aim and putting a bullet in his heart.
   This time, though, you did turn away and vomit. You’d pay for all this later, you knew that. This wasn’t who you were, and it certainly wasn’t who you ever wanted to be, but what choice did you have?    Yeah, you could leave. You could remove yourself from the equation and hope that Pero and Dean would somehow manage to save themselves, but what if they couldn’t?
   And then there was that damned need, made more understandable now that you knew exactly why you needed him so badly.    Your period hadn’t showed up when it was supposed to last time, but you’d assumed that it was because of stress, which didn’t seem at all unreasonable with what you’d been living with over the past five weeks.    But now that you thought about it, you realized that you actually knew exactly when it happened, because you’d felt odd ever since.
   The night that Pero came back to you after being too afraid of himself. It was the following day that you’d begun to lose control over your emotions, with the sudden flare of rage at lunch, hitting you out of nowhere.    You’d known, even then, that something was off, and now you understood why.    It was terrifying. Every bit of it, but mostly the fact that you were alone with this giant responsibility. This frail little thing that suddenly mattered more than anything else in the world.
   Still hunched over, holding on to the wall for support, you started crying. There was no clear reason why, you had too many to chose from, but there was no stopping it.    And the pain that it brought also made your brain remember all the other pain in your body, from your headache to your burning legs and lungs, even your aching hand.
   The dogs came to your sides, nudging your hips and urging you to stay focused, because the threat wasn’t gone, and you managed to draw strength from their unwavering reliance.    Willing yourself to ignore everything that wasn’t relevant at the moment, pain included, you pushed yourself upright again, putting the stolen weapon into your holster, before going through the dead man’s pockets in search of other useful things.
   You found zip-ties and a small LED flashlight, both of which might turn out to be useful, and then you set off back down the six floors to the factory.
<><><><><> 
   The operative had shouted “She broke out!”, before running after you, and Pero hadn’t been able to hold back from shooting a smile at the brothers. They had consistently underestimated you, and he was beginning to think that it might end up being their downfall.    And when their man hadn’t returned after more than five minutes had passed, he even dared to hope that you might be clever enough to save the family yourself.
   But then a gunshot sounded, muffled by at least one or two floors distance, and he was instantly terrified again. Because they would’ve taken your weapon away when they caught you, so it had to be your opponent’s gun.    That didn’t automatically mean that he was the one wielding it, but the odds weren’t good that you’d manage to get to it against someone so much bigger and stronger than you.
   However, another ten minutes later, no operative had turned up, and that made the brothers nervous. They were both studying their screens now, searching and waiting for you to show up at one of the key locations around the building where the discreet cameras were set up.    If it was just the two of them left, and they kind of had to assume that that was the case, then they couldn’t separate without significantly increasing the risk of total failure.
   They also couldn’t both leave the room, since that would’ve given Pero and Dean the chance to try and help free each other.    Having caught you, they’d obviously both assumed that this game was already over, and that you were no longer a threat, having been disarmed and weakened by a headwound.    A mistake their younger selves never would’ve made.
   “I see now why your recruits have failed to become real Falcons.” he said, looking from one brother to the next. “You have both become lazy yourselves. Look at you, sitting on your asses all night while your men die and one little woman with almost no training, has bested you at every turn.”
   Neither man spoke back, because what could they say? Their failures were evident in their own results.
   “I could not save your company even if I wanted to, pendejos. It is already dead.” Pero finished sharply, and then saw them exchange a look that he couldn’t decipher.
   But if they meant to say something, it was interrupted by their screens going dark.    You weren’t tech-savvy, but it had to have been you that had somehow figured out how to take down their security system, and again, his hope was rekindled in full that you were indeed alive and fighting to even the odds.    Had you actually managed to interrogate the operative? He wouldn’t have thought you capable of such things before that night, but you’d consistently surprised him at every turn.
   And the same was true for the brothers, who were now beginning to fray at the seams. Something that both Pero and your father noticed and instantly tried to capitalize on.
   “What’s the matter, boys? Did your confidence run off and hide?” Dean started, and Pero wasn’t far behind.
   “You are just going to sit here and let her come for you? Like ducks in a pond… What the hell happened to you to turn such skilled warriors into cowards?” he questioned, and that broke the dam.
   “Shut the fuck up, Tovar! You have no idea of the shitstorm that you set off when you left,” Fredric shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him, “We never tried to stop you. We made you who you are, we gave you the life that you now live, you have all of that because of us, and still we never tried to stop you from turning your back on us, you ungrateful piece of shit!”
   Pero could’ve thrown some more harsh words at them, but the younger brother’s reaction already told him that he wouldn’t have to, so he just waited. And sure enough, Oscar soon picked up where Fredric had left off, albeit with a more even temper.
   “We had the best reputation in the business, because our three teams were proven to be unbeatable, and on top of that, you were all unfailingly discreet. Never once leaking a single detail about anything concerning your work or training or targets to anyone outside the company.    Then William left, you lost all desire to fight, and suddenly we were a team down, and it had a ripple effect that we never imagined or saw coming.    The two other teams started making mistakes. Like they were off balance, like somehow, the three pairs had existed in some sort of equilibrium, broken by your absence, and they never managed to restore it.”
   “We tried so hard to keep the four of them on track, to re-center them into a new unit, but nothing worked,” Fredric took over again, calmer this time, “And once we made the decision to recruit a new pair, in a desperate play to set things right, that’s when it all really fell apart.”
   He paused, staring at Pero as though he was waiting for his old recruit to realize something, and was abruptly angry again, when he didn’t.
   “This was your family, Tovar, you said so yourself! No one fought harder or better for us than you, you were the best! Don’t you get it?! They all looked up to you, that’s why they were gutted when you just bailed, and enraged with us for trying to replace you!    From the moment you left, we lost all of them and the more we tried to fix things, the worse it got…” he finally sighed, shaking his head and sinking down on a chair. “That’s why you had no trouble defeating your old colleagues tonight. None of them wanted to fight you, they just wanted their brother back.”
   But now it was Pero that was angry again.
   “And it never occurred to you to just knock on the door and tell me that? If this was really about family then you could have chosen a hundred different ways to come to me, but you chose to attack, leaving me only one choice!”
   There was another pause, and something sad settled into both brother’s eyes, before Oscar spoke next.
   “We didn’t send them. They went after you on their own.” he started, meeting Pero’s eyes without deception. “They begged us for years to let them bring you back in, convinced that you would make the difference. But we’d kept tabs on you. We knew that you weren’t stabile enough to accept our invitation, but no matter how many times we told them that, they never stopped asking.    And then, a few weeks ago, there was an incident between Omar and a few of the new recruits, and that was their limit. They went rogue the next day, turning you into their next mission, and we knew that sending anyone else after them would just be adding bodies to the count.”
   “If this was true, then why did you play along? Why try and capture Bee, make me do your bidding?” Pero challenged, still feeling the anger simmer under his skin.
   “Because you’re right, we have failed. We’ve fucked everything up.” Oscar continued. “But we hadn’t expected them to get you here at all. We didn’t think that they’d make you believe that we were responsible for them coming after you. We thought you’d settle for eliminating the threat, reaffirming that you’re all but untouchable, and move on with your life.    And then you showed up on our doorstep, and we had to take the chance that we might be able to convince you to work for us, even if it meant forcing your hand.”
   “Why?” Pero once again challenged, feeling certain that there was still a piece of this puzzle missing. “If things are as bad as you say, then there is nothing to salvage. What could you possibly have thought I could do for you?”
   The brothers exchanged another look identical to the one from before, right after their cameras had gone dark, and something deeply unsettling crawled through his guts, as the truth dawned on him.
   “You no longer own the company… do you?” he asked, seeing the confirmation in the defeat that seemed to fall on their shoulders. “Every new recruit costs a small fortune, and you had twelve of them here, no more than five years into their training. You could not have afforded this. So, you must have investors, and they cannot have been happy with your performance.”
   They didn’t answer that, so he pressed on, following the logical trail of this realization.
   “You thought that I could prove to them that you are still worth their investment. Or, if that did not work, that I could be convinced or coerced to kill the people that own you. To set you free.”
   “Tovar,” Fredric was all but begging now, “you know that the work we do is important. You know how much it matters, what a difference it makes to people. We had to try…”
   “By sacrificing innocent people!? Fuck you!” Pero spat as the fury started to boil again, but the younger brother was sticking to his argument.
   “We haven’t killed them!” he screamed, gesticulating wildly towards Dean.
   But their argument was cut short when the door suddenly fell open, and one Doberman and one Belgian Malinois charged into the room, already clear about who their targets were, neither man managing to even reach for their weapons fast enough.    And as soon as they went down, you appeared in the door, gun in hand and sweeping your eyes over the room before landing on the dogs to make sure that they succeeded in neutralizing the only remaining threat.
   You looked terrible. Pale and ruffled, breathing hard, with a large bump and small gash on your forehead, dried blood in your hair and over one ear, dirt and dust all over your clothes, eyes wide and full of both fear and determination, and your left hand cradled to your chest.    But the right one, holding the gun still aimed at the men dying on the floor, was steady.
   “Pintora…” he said softly, and your eyes snapped over to meet his.
   As though a spell had been lifted at the sight of him, cut and bruised but overall okay, you crumbled.    A sob was strangled on its way up your throat as you dropped the gun and fumbled with your pockets, looking for something while you made your way to him, shaking more and more the closer you got.    The stiletto he’d given you was in your hand when you finally managed to find the correct pocket, and then cut him free.
   He didn’t stand even though nothing held him down anymore, instead he pulled you into his lap and held you close, whispering into your ear, reassuring you that it was over.    You didn’t let yourself cry yet, so when you’d stopped shaking, he asked you to stand and go set Groot free, while Pero cut your father lose, and you responded slightly on autopilot.
   Dean immediately went to your side and hugged you, making you almost disappear into his large frame, and then all but handed you back over to Pero while he went to the other dogs to stand them down and check them for injuries.    Groot stayed right beside you, gently nudging your leg, asking for reassurance that you were alright, not relaxing until you’d petted him over the head and tugged a little at his ear.
   “I do not know how you did this, mi amor… but thank you.” he said, tugging you back into his chest, needing you close where he could feel that you were still strong.
   “Can we just go home?” you whispered, your voice barely even there, rough and strangled by overwhelming emotions, and he wondered just what you’d had to do to get through this, and how long it would take you to recover.
   He also wondered how angry you were that he hadn’t told you everything that he’d intended to do that night, and if you’d be able to forgive him.    He hoped that the fact that you’d come after him was proof enough that you would. That your love for him was strong enough to help you let this go, eventually.    For now, though, he’d settle for getting to take care of you and helping you return to the life that was your normal.
===============
Link to Part 15
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owlhousetarot · 10 months
Note
I saw your post about the remaining cards you still have to do, and I would like to put out two ideas of mine that I think fit.
Card 1: The Magician
I think Adrian Graye (illusion covenhead) could fit this card. Granted I'm tapping more into the illusion magic aspect but it could work.
Explanation: The main aspect of him is that he is creative with his illusion magic and is no doubt the most skilled in illusion magic being a Covenhead afterall. (Besides Gus who is 12) He is resourceful in his own way of having the coven scouts be used as "actors" (in the way he directs them like a director) as well as figuring out that placing an illusion of Belos would stop Hunter in his tracks to catch him. He also was willing to do anything to achieve his goal (capturing Gus and Hunter and going as far as to psychologically torture Gus to get the location of the galdorstones). In terms of the reversed meaning, he can be a bit out of touch because he's seen to basically abort his own mission from Belos and instead used his magic/resources as an opportunity to do something for his own personal gain (getting Gus) at his expense. He also stops himself (unknowingly) as he knows what he wants/expects from his scouts, yet he gives poor/not clear feedback to them. Which is often misdirected which causes their illusions to be detected by Gus.
Card 2: Justice
I think Raine Whispers and at most Eda too pictured could work.
Explanation: Raine is a morally good character who who seeks to know the truth of The Day of Unity as well as disassemble Belos’s plan for it. (And at most tell others about Belos’s lies) This is because they care about the freedom of witches and deep down, they know its right to put a stop to Belos. They do feel a bit conflicted about it as they have to sacrifice their relationship with Eda by either dying in action in Eda's Requiem or by not talking to her to avoid Eda's safety being put at risk. I think in terms of the reversed meaning, the last thing stated could tie into a lack of communication/ accountability as they didn’t talk to Eda. In terms of the reversed theme of corruption, Eda's magic corrupted Raine's music and is what allowed them to come up with the suicide mission they were on to take down Darius and Eberwolf (and by extension The Day of Unity). The theme of corruption can also be tied to Raine pretending to be brainwashed, as they had to (kinda) lie to Eda about playing the part in Follies at the Coven Day Parade.
Card 12: The Hanged Man
I think the specific scene of Luz saying bye to her mom near the end of Yesterday's Lie could tie into this card.
Explanation: this is going to be shorter (I hope). Luz in the scene is literally hanging from a rope and has to let go of her mom to get back to Eda. She's sacrificing seeing her mom again. Then when comes back to Eda, she has to think about what her next action is (tell Eda and Amity about what her mom said to her coming back). If I remember correctly, I think this was the last episode of season 2A, so the audience watching was on pause/waiting for the next episode to see what Luz was going to do. This also bleeds into the reversed meaning as Luz (in Follies) was fearful of telling Amity and her friends of what happened. She was a bit indecisive and didn't know what to do.
Card 21: The World
I'm thinking more literally on this one and I think the entire 9 Covenheads pictured would be cool. Or just the idea of covens in general.
Explanation: The idea of covens when Luz first saw them was in a positive light, saying that there was a sense of community/ integration with witches and having a sense of belonging. This would also fit with the double meaning of harmony/unity as a tie with the Day of Unity. In terms of the reversed meaning, the covens are always trying to gain new members, so they're never fully complete as Belos wants as many witches in them. Another thing is that witches lose the rest of their magic and it may even lead them to feeling incomplete without all of it/ the magic being restricted.
I hope this doesn't come across as a lot, I just saw this post and had to share my ideas. (Also can you tell I'm hyperfixating on this show lol I love it to peices)
Also I just saw this now so I have no idea how old this post is, but I hope you at least enjoy my ideas if you haven't started the these cards already.
(Also I'm totally going to get this deck when it comes out I love it already)
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Aaa I ADORE your ideas!! I was actually REALLY close to using that exact scene for the hanged man card, but ended up with the design I have because Yesterday’s Lie works really well for a later card and because I needed more King in the major arcana (especially since this deck is already gonna be so Luz-heavy lol)
And while yes unfortunately I have already made all of these cards, I enjoyed reading through your ideas! (And if anyone were to make art of these, or any other cards in the deck, I would love to be tagged so I could see it 👀)
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x-pair-o-dice-x · 2 years
Text
by nature, we are destined to fall apart (but who cares about that when we have each other)
part one | part two | part three
word count: 4322 out of 17431
UPDATE: now on ao3!
warnings, in no particular order: fear of death, accidental fearplay, intentional fearplacy, brief choking, dehumanization, imprisonment, digestion and hard vore mentions(none happen), soft vore.
———————
tommy doesn’t know how much time has passed when something changes, but.. it’s a while.
he spent most of that time munching on rice grains — what, he was hungry, okay? — and dozing off on tubbo’s shoulder. tubbo was probably getting sore with how much he was being used as a pillow, but.. sucks to be him, he guesses.
soon though, he can feel something press into the wall they were laying on, startling tommy and tubbo, and waking up ranboo.
“you guys holding up okay?” a voice spoke up, almost felt like it was coming from all around them.
“uh- yeah?” tommy called out. “kind of?”
the voice, who could only be dream, let out a hum, which ended up being felt by all of them.
tommy shuddered slightly.
“you- wanna be let out now?” dream asked.
“yes please,” ranboo answered quickly, still looking a bit shaken up from.. everything, despite the nap. which, you know, fair enough.
“alright, just uh- hold on,” dream said, and after a moment, the chamber they were in started to collapse into itself. suddenly, tommy felt himself get dragged into a tight passageway, and soon, he was spit out into dream’s hand.
and sooner still, tubbo and ranboo were dropped alongside him.
he saw ranboo, after trying to gather himself, look around briefly- before doubling back, staring at their surroundings in awe.
tommy found himself looking around, as well.
frankly, the area they were in looked pretty average. they were in a fairly cramped part of a forest, with the trees only just giving them enough room to breathe. there were bushes with berries and flowers just about everywhere you looked, and- well, it was green literally everywhere, aside from various rocks and other nature things. again, fairly normal sight for him.
but ranboo, he looked like he was in some fairytale.
“woah,” ranboo said, voice filled with wonder, “this, this is.. wonderful......”
“..have you, never seen a forest, big man?” tommy asked.
“no, i’ve- never really been outside of the colony,” ranboo answered, “no one really has. the only people really allowed out were the patrollers.”
“the- huh?” tubbo spoke up, confused.
“our, uh- our colony had two types of groups that went on patrols,” dream started, “i led a patrol that went around the area, and took care of anything that threatened our safety, if there was anything. and the second one, uh.. went around to gather food or.. hunt.”
or capture borrowers, tommy added in mentally.
“oh! we have something like that first one!” tubbo chimed in, “techno, he uh, goes around the area around our village to look for threats!”
“he’s our brother!” tommy adds, grinning proudly.
dream smiled, nodding, and letting out an acknowledging hum.
he looked like he was about to bring up something, but before he could-
“uh-” ranboo spoke up, “i- before anything else, can we, uhm.” he paused, before pointing to the metal collar around his neck. “..get rid of this?”
“oh- oh!” dream jolted, before placing them onto a big, nearby rock, and digging into his bag.
he pulled out a set of keys — the same keys the guard from earlier had given him, tommy realized — and examined them, before settling on one that looked like it belonged to the collar.
quickly, he unlocked the collar, and as soon as it fell off, ranboo leaped off of the rock, immediately shifting into a form not unlike dream’s, much to tommy’s surprise. and tubbo’s, too, considering how he jolted.
he- he almost forgot that ranboo was a rovenger, in the chaos. forgot he was something that had eaten his kind.
kind of hard to remember when the guy was having a panic attack inside his own brother's stomach.
and, well- logically, it would make sense for ranboo to have a bigger form, just like dream did. he just.. kind of forgot that bit.
they looked.. kind of similar. if dream had antlers, and white patches like a koi fish, had black freckles instead of white, and had, uh- what was it called? uh, the fucking- two colored eyes thing.
he was also- almost comically smaller than dream.
he was currently enveloping dream in a hug, and- dream had to lean down to hug him. he thinks dream was whispering things to his brother, probably apologies and reassurances.
it was sweet, real sweet, if also a very, very funny thing to see. he kept that bit to himself, though.
soon, the two rovengers detached themselves from each other, and if their eyes looked wet, well. tommy didn’t mention it.
dream ended up turning towards the two borrowers.
“thank you,” dream said, still holding onto ranboo’s hand, “both of you, for helping me find him.”
“i- well, if anyone’s gonna be thanking anyone,” tubbo started, “it would have to be us, for getting us out of that shithole.”
“i, for one, am totally happy with accepting praise,” tommy interjected, ignoring the look tubbo gave him. “..but, uh- ..yeah, thanks for not getting us killed, i guess.” he added after a moment.
dream let out a chuckle, ranboo following suit with his own.
a small lull in the conversation, before-
“so, uh.. how, are we getting home?” tubbo asked.
“oh- oh, yeah!” dream perked up. “uh- shit, do- do either of you remember the way to your place?”
tommy froze, before the two ended up looking around the forest for a minute.
“uh- should be this way?” tubbo said, pointing towards a direction-
just as tommy let out an enthusiastic “that-a way!” pointing in the opposite direction.
tubbo, without even looking at him, smacked his hand down, saying “ignore him.”
tommy pouted. rude.
dream blinked, before, “..allllright then.”
“so,” dream continued, “i guess we’ll just, drop you off at your village, and then.. be on our way?”
tommy paused.
“do- do you even have anywhere else to go, actually?” he asked.
dream froze.
“well- uh. i’m sure we can figure it out once we get there?” dream tried, glancing over at ranboo. “and, well.. it- it can’t be that hard to live out here, can it?”
“i can assure you,” tubbo chimed in, “it is. used to be an innie borrower — uh, that is to say, i lived inside of human houses. when, uh.. things changed, and i had to leave, i uh.. didn’t get along that well, with living in the wild, at first.”
“he only lived this far ‘cause of me,” tommy adds, pointing at himself with a grin.
“well- i wouldn’t go that far-”
tommy cut him off with a deadpan look.
“....alright, yeah, maybe,” tubbo admitted.
“and if tubbo, who still had to live being on edge the whole time, had trouble with the woods, how do you think you guys with your pampered lifestyle is gonna work?”
dream hesitated, his ears flicking.
“what if you stay with us for a bit?” tommy offered, “at least until you learn how to not fucking die out here.”
“i- no no, we couldn’t possibly-” dream shook his head, “i- you’ve already done your part of our deal, we couldn’t ask you for more.”
“you aren’t though, i’m offering.” tommy rejected. “listen- we’ll be rather put off if, after all this effort you put out into not dying, you fucked off into the woods and collapsed dead in the grass because you wanted to eat some fucking poisonous berries, right tubs?”
tubbo nodded furiously.
“i’m sure phil won’t mind if you stay over for a bit- especially if he learns you guys were the ones who helped us escape.” tubbo says.
“hell yeah!” tommy yells, throwing his hands up in the air, “bribe the old man!”
dream still looked conflicted, and as he opened his mouth — probably to say more stupid things, tommy thinks — dream is interrupted by ranboo tugging on his coat.
“i- uh,” ranboo mumbles, “don’t- wanna leave them, yet.”
at this, dream softens, before giving it some thought.
after a moment, he looks up at them.
“..alright,” dream relents, “we’ll stay with you for a bit. but only if your- uh, ‘phil’ is okay with it.”
tommy and tubbo let out a loud WHOO!!, earning the wheezing laugh of dream, and loud chuckles from ranboo.
soon, they end up getting a traveling system worked out — the rovengers take turns carrying the others, with ranboo going first(both so dream can rest, and because.. he wasn’t ready to be small again so soon, ranboo thinks, as he rubs his sore neck).
and so, they head out in the direction tubbo had pointed in, and made their way back home.
———————
as soon as they could see something in the distance, tubbo ended up stopping them for a second.
while ranboo(who had gotten his mask back from tubbo by now, and thank god for that, he was feeling off without it) hadn’t exactly been able to see the sun when they first started off, he knew it had to have been at least a couple hours, since it was beginning to get dark.
“what’s up?” dream asked, turning his head towards the borrowers(and brother) on his back.
“well, uh- i can’t really say for certain,” tubbo started, “but- well.. i don’t know if it’s a good idea for you guys to show up like this.”
“..‘like this’?” ranboo tilted his head.
“like you’re fucking huge,” tommy piped in, “if someone outside right now saw you, they would probably freak out a lot.”
“especially if they realize, well..” tubbo added, grimacing, “..the uh, kind of place you two came from, so to speak.”
dream winced, and ranboo shrunk a bit.
“hey, i think they just need to get to know you first!” tommy exclaimed, shrugging his shoulders with an easy smile, “you know, get them to trust you, show them you’re not gonna hurt ‘em, the works. then we can tell them ‘bout what you are.”
tommy hesitated.
“maybe.” he added.
“point is-” tubbo said, “it might be best to shift right now, and hide it for a bit.”
tubbo paused, thinking about something.”
“hey, uh- how long exactly can you hold this form, anyway?” he asked.
“uh- i don’t really know?” dream shrugged, “it’s not really something i’ve ever tested the limits of? haven’t used that form often. what about you, bud, you know?” dream turned towards ranboo.
“well, uhm.. i’ve spent a few hours shifted, so- at least a couple hours?” ranboo tried.
“good enough!” tommy grinned, before patting dream in the back a few times. “now, come on, big man, time to shift — can’t have you spoiling the surprise!” he joked.
dream let out a chuckle, before holding out a hand to them. the trio climbed on, and they were let down. soon after, dream shifted, and joined them on the ground.
“so, where we headed now?” dream asked — pointedly looking towards tubbo.
“wh- hey! i know my way around this forest!” tommy shouted, “fucking hell, i practically invented this forest! they call me tommy craft-innit, greatest navigator alive!”
“if anyone, that would be techno,” tubbo chimed in, batting him on the head, “not you.”
he turned towards the other two.
“the village is this way, follow me,” tubbo said, before walking in a direction. a sulking tommy followed him, muttering something under his breath.
the two rovenengers exchanged a brief look with each other, before following suit.
———————
things seem a little.. off-putting, so to speak, when they enter the village.
that is to say, the whole atmosphere feels somber.
as they all enter the burrow that the village is located in, ranboo notices that.. the whole thing seems.. empty. unlike his old colony, where you could always find someone walking around the corridors, no one was out here.
at first, ranboo thought it was just a difference between their two homes, but tommy and tubbo had pointed it out as odd, as well.
“what the fuck, where is everyone?” tommy had asked quietly after a couple minutes of walking around the lit up tunnels, “like- i know it’s late, but- it’s not that late, innit?”
they ended up not making much conversation on the walk, no one quite willing to disturb the eerie silence.
after what felt like a while, eventually, they stopped in front of a door, dug into the side of the burrow, not unlike the rest of the buildings.
tommy and tubbo ended up walking to the front, and, after sparing a quick glance at each other, squeezing the other's hand, tubbo knocked.
and then they waited.
..and, waited.
..........and.... waited..?
hesitantly, tubbo knocked again.
a full minute passed this time.
“is- is no one home?” tubbo asked, concerned. ranboo perked his ears up, straining his hearing against the door.
faintly, he could hear noises inside the room.
“no, there’s- someone inside.” ranboo said.
“then why aren’t they opening the door?” dream asked.
tommy pushed ranboo out of the way. “step aside, ranboob-” “uh- that’s not my-” “let a professional handle this.”
he cracked his knuckles, held up both of his hands, and then began knocking.
..repeatedly.
he.. he wasn’t stopping.
as tommy drummed on the door, he started mumbling under his breath.
“open up open up open up open up open up open up open-”
soon enough, even through the persistent knocking, ranboo could hear footsteps stomping their way towards the door.
“uhm- tommy, maybe you should-” before he could finish that sentence, though, the door slammed itself open, and out popped a borrower — brown haired, with dark eyes, wearing a yellow sweater.
“what the fuck do you want-” they started to snarl at the group, before they seemingly registered who exactly was at the door. as their gaze landed on the two borrowers, their eyes widened, and they took a shocked step back.
the three stared at each other for a while.
“..hey, wil.” tubbo spoke up, trying for a smile, but his face began to wobble for a bit, and his eyes were shiny.
“t..tommy? tubbo?” the borrower- wil?- breathed out, astonished.
at that, ranboo heard frantic shuffling from within the burrow, and soon, another borrower popped their head out — a blond, this time, with their blue eyes making them bare a strong resemblance to tommy, though that was where their likeness ended. instead, they seemed to have traded fur for feathers, what with their large black wings behind them.
“boys?” the older borrower said, their voice breaking at the word.
at the blonde’s appearance, the two’s calm facade seemed to crack, before-
“dad!” tommy shouted, before shooting himself at the elder, tubbo following not too far behind. they quickly pulled him, as well as wil, into a tight hug, their father not hesitating to wrap his wings around them all. he thinks he could hear quiet sobs.
ranboo turned his attention away from the sight when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked to see his brother staring at them with a sad, but proud smile.
after a few minutes, they reluctantly pulled away from each other, but they still held on.
“i- what happened to you two- how are you back?!” the father exclaimed, clutching tightly onto the two’s hands, as if thinking that if he let go, they’d disappear all over again.
without speaking- they were probably too choked up to talk at the moment, all the emotions they had kept on hold before coming back rapidly- they turned towards the two rovengers.
the two older borrowers’ eyes widened, not having noticed that they had company.
a pause.
..ranboo waved awkwardly.
“oh,” the father blinked, before straightening up, “oh!” he made his way over to the two, before holding out his hand — or, talons, ranboo guessed would be a better word, seeing their resemblance to a bird’s, well.. talons — for them to shake.
“hey there, my name’s phil,” the father said, gripping dream’s hand in a firm shake, then ranboo’s. as he did so, he tilted his head towards the other borrower — who had proceeded to hold tommy and tubbo close to them — and continued, “and that over there, is wilbur. and you-” he looked at the two with an almost vulnerable look in his eyes, “you two are the reasons my boys are home?”
“i-” dream choked out, before clearing his throat, “i, uh- we are, sir.”
phil let out a gentle smile, his eyes still wet from earlier.
“thank you.” he said. “how can i ever repay you?”
“oh, uh- well, you- you don’t need to-” dream started, only to get cut off.
“no no, i insist!” phil said, waving him off. “how about you stay over for dinner — techno should be home soon, i’m sure he’d love to meet the two that brought his brothers back.”
“techno? being happy to talk to strangers? unlikely,” tommy joked, but it was overshadowed by tubbo’s confusion.
“wait, he’s not home?” tubbo asked, “isn’t he usually back from his patrols by now?”
“oh, he’s been going on longer patrols, recently,” wilbur cut in, “he, uh- took you two’s disappearance.. kind of hard. we all did.”
tommy’s ears dipped, and tubbo frowned slightly.
“but your back now,” phil said, holding his boys close again, “and that’s all that matters now.”
the sight warmed ranboo’s heart, and his tail wagged back and forth slightly.
phil pulled away once more, holding onto tommy and tubbo’s hands.
“now, come on in,” phil said, pulling the boys inside, “i’ll get started on dinner, and you can tell us about what had happened.”
———————
after phil had started making dinner — which consisted of a mushroom stew, with various berries ranboo couldn’t name as a side — they began their story.
they agreed while phil and wilbur were preparing stuff that they would share.. almost the full truth. just.. mixing stuff up a bit.
the story they told was about the same, except ranboo was a fellow cellmate, and dream had broken in to save his brother. dream ended up meeting tommy while trying to find him, and ended up freeing him as well- before setting off to find both of their brothers.
from there, the story played out about the same way — just that ranboo and tubbo never got separated, nor did they all have to deal with.. getting put in the pouch.
and while they did omit what dream and ranboo were, they did end up telling them why exactly they were captured. and.. by the horrified looks on their faces, and how they clutches onto the younger boys a bit tighter, well.. they didn’t seem to like that all that much, to say the least.
ranboo could tell dream wasn’t having a great time explaining that part, either. the older two borrowers would probably guess that he was still afraid of being so close to losing his brother — and, well, they weren’t exactly wrong — but ranboo knew he was still having a tough time with the realization of his food being sapient.
and that’s not to say ranboo was having an easier time dealing with it, but.. he’s not the one who had been eating borrowers for the past twenty-two years.
soon, when the stew was almost finished, the door opened with little warning, and in came another borrower — one with pink hair, a red, furred cloak; and a scar over their left eye.
“phil, i need to talk to you-” they said hurriedly, before taking into account who was in the room.
their hand twitched towards the- the actual fucking sword they had resting under their coat when their eyes flicked over ranboo and dream, but then-
then they noticed the other two on the room.
and they froze.
“t..theseus? atlas?” they croaked out.
“techno!” both of the boys shouted, rushing over to hug them.
techno immediately got down on one knee, and scooped them up into a crushing hug once they got close enough.
they stayed like that for a moment. then-
“does this mean we have to tell the story again?” ranboo spoke up, causing techno to snap his head up.
“uh, who- who’s this?” he asked, voice only barely showing his confusion.
phil chuckled, pouring the stew into various bowls.
“don’t worry, ranboo, i’ll tell him everything in a bit,” he said, before turning his attention towards the pink-haired borrower, “tech, these two are the two that brought our boys back here.”
techno stared at them for a moment, before- reluctantly- stepping away from tommy and tubbo, heading towards them. he held out his hand, and ranboo took it and- ow, woah okay he- certainly had a good grip. they shook, before he moved onto dream, who reacted in pretty much the same way as him.
“thank you,” techno said, with a carefully controlled voice, though ranboo could see his eyes shining slightly, “for bringing them home.”
“not- not a problem, uh- mr. techno,” ranboo stammered.
after that, they gathered around the living room, and started eating dinner.
they ended up chatting about various, random things, and by the end, they were all fairly acquainted with each other.
when they were almost done with the stew, phil brought up something.
“hey, are you two staying anywhere, currently?” phil asked the rovengers.
“uh- not, not really?” dream shrugged.
“they’re innie borrowers, like i was,” tubbo spoke up. oh, so that’s the sorry we’re going with, okay then, ranboo thought.
at this, phil perked up.
“you are?” phil asked.
dream shrugged again. ranboo ended up nodding, if only to go along with the alibi.
“can they stay here?” tommy asked excitedly, tail wagging back and forth, stars in his eyes.
“i mean, we certainly can’t just shove them out now,” tubbo said, “it’s gotta be dark out by now, there’s no way they would make it through the night like this.”
well, we’d probably last the night, ranboo thought, pouting slightly beneath his mask. it’s just.. the rest of the nights we’d have to worry about..
“oh no- of course not!” phil said, before turning towards dream and ranboo, “we don’t really have any guest rooms, at the moment, but- until we can get you your own house, you two can sleep in my room.”
“i- no, we- we couldn’t-” dream tried to back down, but phil shook his head.
“nonsense — after all you did, it’s the least i could do, really.” phil said.
dream tried to stammer out a response, but phil kept staring at him with a stubborn look.
eventually, dream slumped his shoulders.
“if- if you’re sure.” dream relented.
phil gave a satisfied nod, and after that, the conversation moved on.
and ranboo.. ranboo hadn’t felt this at home in a long, long while.
———————
once everyone else settled into their rooms, phil made his way to the couch, and started getting it ready for him to sleep in.
soon, he heard footsteps, and he turned around to see techno making his way towards him.
he had traded his red cloak for a white undergarment, and his long hair, which was normally held up in a bun, flowed down his shoulders.
“i need to talk to you about something,” techno said.
phil stared at him for a moment, before sitting down on the couch, patting on the side.
techno, after a brief pause, took the signal, and sat down beside him.
“did something happen?” phil asked.
“something like that,” techno said vaguely, “i, uh.. found something while out on patrol.”
phil stiffened, his feathered-ears flicking slightly.
“good or bad?” he asked — though, judging by the tone, he could only assume the latter.
“i.. you know those tracks that were around when tommy and tubbo first disappeared.”
“y..yeah, i do, mate.”
“they- when flying around on carl, i- i saw them again.”
“you- what?” phil whisper-shouted, not wanting to alert anyone else in the household.
“i think- the same creatures that took them before-”
“rovengers,” phil cut off. techno blinked at him.
“heh?”
“oh- fuck, did i not-” phil said, and- shit, he never got the chance to tell techno the story they were told. “okay, uh- i’ll tell you what happened in a bit, just- are you saying they were followed?”
“they.. might have been, yeah..”
“shit,” phil exclaimed. his wings puffed up, slightly.
“i- okay,” he said, “tell- tell everyone to be careful. keep following curfew, and- don’t let anyone go out for a while, not without special permission. and- be careful on your patrols.”
“huh, almost thought you were gonna tell me not to go out at all.” techno joked. phil huffed out a laugh.
“please, i know you’re stubborn as fuck, you wouldn’t take that. you’d either argue against me, or go out in secret, and i’d rather know where you’re going then worry my ass off,” he said, “besides, we need someone to keep an eye out for updates.”
techno let out a chuckle. “yeah yeah, on it.”
“now,” techno continued, “what’s this about a story?”
and as phil told him what he himself had been told earlier, he found his thoughts drifting back towards his boys.
prime, he’s so fucking relieved that they’re both okay. after- after that first week of nothing from them, they.. they really thought the worst.
and the worst almost did happen.
he doesn’t think he can thank those two strangers enough for their help.. but he thinks he had a good start, what with the dinner and the room.
phil doesn’t know what they're situation was like before they came across his boys, but it must not have been good if innie borrowers got into the hands of the creatures — the rovengers.
though, he suppose it doesn’t matter what they’re situation was like before, now. they’re here, and phil’s willing to do whatever it takes to repay them.
if they want to head out, he’s willing to help teach them the ways of the woods, teach them how to survive.
and if they want to stay, well.. he’s already ready to welcome them.
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kudosmyhero · 1 year
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Detective Comics (vol. 1) #389: Batman's Evil Eye / Batgirl's Bag of Tricks!
Batman's Evil Eye Read Date: October 18, 2022 Cover Date: July 1969 ● Writer: Frank Robbins ● Penciler: Bob Brown ● Inker: Joe Giella ● Colorist: {uncredited} ● Letterer: Ben Oda ● Editor: Julius Schwartz ●
Batgirl's Bag of Tricks! Read Date: October 18, 2022 Cover Date: July 1969 ● Writer: Frank Robbins ● Penciler: Gil Kane ● Inker: Murphy Anderson ● Colorist: {uncredited} ● Letterer: {uncredited} ● Editor: Julius Schwartz ●
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Synopsis 1: The Scarecrow is released from jail thanks to the efforts of Bruce Wayne to grant him parole. As Batman, he visits Crane's release from prison and they shake hands.
Batman then gets going with Robin on his normal patrol and he starts remembering the past, during the days in which he started his crusade against crime. He recalls using his fearsome figure to strike terror in the hearts of criminals, but Robin points out that the old "scaring gig" has run its course and that criminals are no longer easily afraid. To prove a point, Batman tries to use some of his old tactics during the next mission and to their complete shock, the Dynamic Duo find that the criminals they fight are helplessly afraid of Batman. Robin believes this is a mere coincidence, but when the event repeats with further intensity, Batman starts suspecting that there is more than meets the eye.
After having easily captured another gang of criminals, who ended up scared out of their minds of Batman, the Caped Crusader takes them to the GCPD Headquarters, where Commissioner Gordon's phone rings with someone asking to speak with Batman. The mysterious person informs Batman that everything that has happened was planned by him and that in order to learn the mystery behind it all, he gives Batman an address, where they would meet alone.
Batman goes to the indicated place and he learns that it is an abandoned warehouse. Wanting to give the criminal a taste of his own tricks, Batman decides to use an old fear tactic by dropping from a skylight. Unfortunately, the criminal was prepared for this situation and Batman is locked in a trap when he finds himself surrounded by two-way mirrors, all of which reflect his image. Batman becomes completely afraid of himself and the criminal reveals to be the Scarecrow before he starts telling Batman his whole plan.
When he was released from prison and he shook Batman's hand, he injected a special serum on Batman which would start inducing fear into anyone who was confronted by the Dark Knight. Since then, the effects have grown stronger and with the right amount of exposure to the fear, the victim could become insane. Batman tries hard to not fall for Scarecrow's trap, but he can't hold his own fear. After a few moments, Scarecrow reckons that Batman's mind has snapped and decides to eliminate Batman for good. Opening the doors of the mirror chamber, he allows a couple of his thugs to enter the place, but they are both shocked in fear at the sight of Batman, who was not insane yet and is capable of escaping the trap to take down the thugs. Finally, Batman confronts the Scarecrow without restrains and he manages to beat the criminal without much effort. In the aftermath, Batman decides to take the Scarecrow back to prison, as he has lost all faith in his recovery.
Synopsis 2: Batgirl is caught in the sights of a bunch of crooks masquerading as members of the Justice League at a costume party who were trying to obtain stolen jewels, however were double crossed by their partner Darlene Dawson, who had set up Barbara Gordon to take the fall little realizing that Barbara was the real Batgirl.
Easily defeating the crooks, she decides to track down Dawson, little knowing that she is being followed by "Superman." She end up tracking Darlene to Cosby Corners, where she finds out that she is really the daughter of old man Dawson, a reputed criminal leader. Batgirl then fights the two, and makes short work of them when the "Superman" crook tries to interfere and is shot dead by grandfather Dawson. Batgirl manages to incapacitate both crooks and turns them over to the police.
(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Detective_Comics_Vol_1_389)
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Fan Art: Batgirl Barbara Gordon by badokami
Accompanying Podcast: ● Batgirl to Oracle - episode 07
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lamentingwclf · 9 months
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“Do you miss him?”
Bucky doesn't need her to specify who he is. Steve had been on his mind quite a bit lately, and Shar had the uncanny ability to read his mind - or perhaps, a thought he didn't want to expend too much energy on for fear he might spiral into another unhealthy rabbit hole of thoughts - he'd been on her mind too. If he answered this question, if he redirected it, would it open the can of worms of the conversation of him feeling like the consolation prize when Steve made the decision to go for what he wanted? A muddled expression mars his face as other thoughts race through his mind. It's like watching Steve in reverse. The fear that never quite settled in Bucky's gut when he was found in Romania. When he was trying to get his go bag, but the look on his friend's face still haunted him. Captain America, on the air craft, begging The Winter Soldier to stand down. To not fight. To remember. And this was answered with violence. He almost killed him. This haunted Bucky the most, because yes, he does miss Steve, but ultimately, his biggest regret is that he never made this right.
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"Before the war - " He says, finally, "When we were just two kids from Brooklyn, things were so different. Everyone thinks Steve was the golden boy, but they are wrong, he was just a scrawny kid that couldn't stand down from a fight. He had a lot of medical issues, the asthma was the worst. So he couldn't really put on weight or muscle." Bucky captures his bottom lip between his teeth, and his eyes well with unshed tears. "It was me. I was the golden boy. Smart, handsome, strong. I was going places. I was wasting my time being dragged down by a charity case, but neither of us ever saw it that way. We were brothers, through and through. He saved my ass too many times - and to me - he was always a hero." Meeting Sharon's gaze, one tear does fall down his cheek. He'd never allowed himself to speak so candidly about their history. "Everyone thought I was jealous when he'd been picked for the super soldier program, but it wasn't true. I was so fucking proud of him, and honestly, I was relieved." Relieved that for once, in his life, Bucky didn't have to be the strong one. He didn't have to put on a show. He didn't have to be the golden boy. He could just be. But it turned into a double edged sword. When he'd been captured, when he'd been saved by Steve. When he caught up on the things that had happened to his friend over the course of the war - Bucky never quite found the time to tell him about what happened. What had been done to him. The headaches. If he had, would Steve have known he was alive? "I miss him, but most of all, I regret not making things truly right, but I don't blame him for the decision he made. To leave the shield with Sam. To take back his life. I think he knew it was the right call, I think he knew I was tired of fighting."
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sulahnvhenan · 3 years
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just thoughts about nerien and thantiel as prisoners of a dreadnought---
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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years
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Sebastian convincing you to have another baby...
Pairing | Sebastian Stan x reader
Summary | Seb wants another baby, but he still has to convince you into wanting the same thing.
Warnings | smut, breeding kink, fluff, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of birth control, creampie, swearing, cockwarming
Requested ✖️
Y/e/d/n = Your eldest daughter’s name
Y/d/n = your daughters name
Y/s/n = your son’s name
Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬
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The idea of pregnancy gave you many things to think about, the gruelling and simultaneously tiresome journey had been one hell of a rollercoaster. The countless times (approximately two) that you had endured the swelling of your feet, and the divine hunger for the strangest combinations of food, had left you with three beautiful children.
First you had birthed a little girl, that sparked a new light behind your husband’s eyes, and reinvented his world. She was the princess he adored, and the one that you loved to watch Disney movies with, even if she insisted on Frozen every singular time.
And then, after her, you had a pair of perfect twins. They brought sound and restlessness to the household, after your daughter demanding that she wanted a sibling. Deep down, you had wanted more at the time too, but now, you felt as though your life goal was fulfilled.
Your family was everything that you had ever wanted, it felt as though you had been taken off an idealistic screen and transferred into reality. And if that had happened, you wouldn’t be one to complain, for all your greatest wishes had come true.
But if you were to ask your husband, he would make it very clear that he wanted more little devils running around the house. There was a joke that Evans and Mackie had with you every time that they saw you on set, clothed in a tight catsuit to fit your role. They would act amazed at the appearance of you not bearing one of Sebastian’s gorgeous children, their false shock earning laughs from your various co stars.
It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t open to the idea of another child to grow within your womb, however, it was more out of fear. You were well aware that you had been blessed with the birth of your lovely twins, though you were scared that you would endure the premise of double labour again, and it wasn’t exactly the kind of pain that you were willing to experience for a second time.
Being practically split in half once was bad enough, but twice, one instance straight after the other was bound to be the worst torture that a mother could be provided with. As you stirred your evening cuppa, watching as your kids were all huddled playing a board game after their dinner, two arms found placement around your waist, lightly tugging you back into a strong chest.
“Look at our babies.” Your husband mumbled into the crown at the back of your head, his fingertips rolling circles beneath your shirt. “Aren’t they the sweetest?” He asked, pressing a delicate kiss upon the back of your neck. The feeling of his stubble making your body shake wantonly, but you withheld from making sounds, not wanting to draw the attention of your children.
“When they’re quiet.” You agreed, watching as your eldest helped the twins with beating her. “They’re the most important people in my life, and then, it’s my annoying husband, who cannot stop trying to get in my pants for five minutes.”
“That’s called love; your husband loves you.” Sebastian stated, nibbling on your ear lobe as you ushered a sound of approval, clutching onto his hand that was firmly planted on your side, as his tongue traced the shell of your ear. “And I’m sure he’d love to show you how much, if you stop being mean to him.”
“Mean?” You laughed, taking a sip of your drink before spinning in his arms, allowing him to push you flush against the counter. “I can show him mean.” Biting your lip, you traced the seam of his sweats, that appeared to be all that he was currently wearing, brushing your hands up and against his well attended to torso. “But later.”
Seb groaned, leaning his head back, as he moved closer to you, pushing his thigh between your legs, glancing over your shoulder at the kids. “We could put them to bed right now, and then go to our room, then, you can show me how much of a horrible wife you are.”
“As much as I love that idea bubs, the twins need to be bathed, and you have to help your daughter with her math homework.” Leaning forwards, you pressed a kiss on his bicep, moving out from the entrapment of his arms, and lightly patting his ass.
“You know I was joking about you being mean, but now I’m seeing some truth behind my earlier words.” Sebastian plodded away, and towards the open living space, plopping down on the sofa, as he watched his offspring on the floor, smiling at their kindness to one another, though he was sure that tomorrow would be another story.
With one last look, you headed upstairs, going to the main bathroom, and began to slowly the run the tap. During the time you allowed it to run, you grabbed some pyjamas for your babies, as well as a couple of towels and flannels. By the time you had returned to the bathroom, and put everything down ready, the tub was half filled. And so you stopped the stream, putting in a tad of cold water before descending down the stairs.
“Honey, help y/e/d/n with her school work, I’m gonna get these two trouble makers ready for bed.” Your husband nodded as he pursed his lips, trying to ignore how you leant down to pick the twins up, pretending as through the top of your breast had not been caught by his eyes.
And with that, you got the kids cleaned and ready for the following day, meeting Seb at the doorway of y/d/n’s and y/s/n’s room, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before tucking them in for bed.
As you were walking towards your own room, Sebastian lifted you from behind, carrying you the rest of the way. “You can’t keep it in your pants, can you Mr Stan?” You laughed as he dropped you upon your double bed, him instantly kneeling at the end of it to peel your shirt off.
He trailed kisses along your legs, humming from the much desired contact, as his blue eyes flickered up at you. “That’s your fault, you deprive me.” He muttered against your skin, reaching his fingertips up higher to grasp at the sides of your underwear, pulling the material down.
Your husband blew hot air upon your pussy, grinning to himself as it instinctively clenched around nothing. As he moved closer, he breathed in your scent, rubbing the tip of his nose along your clit, before diving in to feast, sneaking his tongue through your slit, instantly prodding at your entrance, causing your head to wind back, and your hand grasp his hair.
“We should have another.” He mumbled against you, and you were almost too delirious to complain, although a light groan emitted from you, as you fought with yourself whether to let him continue eating you out and not respond, or do the responsible, adult thing, and speak about it.
With much resilience, you pulled his head away, licking your lips at his slick stained chin away, tugging him to be laid beside you. “Is that really want you want Seb?” You asked, biting your lip, wanting to hear his thoughts in hopes that it would relax you for the possibility of you bearing more of his children.
“Of course it is draga.” He answered, his icy pools making your own freeze, he cupped your chin, bringing your lips to his own, placing a few pecks upon your lips, before continuing. “I know that you’re nervous, but I will look after you every step of the way, like I have done both times before. Anyways, I feel like directors take a kick out of challenging themselves with making their actresses appear not pregnant, look at both you and Scar through the years.”
You nodded, understanding that your career wouldn’t take the brunt of things. “I want another but... I’m scared. Just, what if I have two again?” You rambled with your hands, and he clasped them between his own, pausing your panicked hand signals, and rubbing his nose against each set of your knuckles.
“The chances of that aren’t very high my love. But if it happens, then maybe this time you’ll let us call them Wanda and Pietro...” his words earned him a light eye roll and a tender hit on his shoulder, as he rolled on top of you, causing you to squeal. “Remember, don’t wake the kids.”
“Kinda hard when I can feel how hard you are.” You retorted, moaning as he began to suck at the spot on your neck that made your knees shake, his hands drifting beneath your shirt, as he began to raise the material up your torso, and over your breasts. You whipped the material over your head, discarding it as his attention turned to your boobs. “I’ll never get tired of these.”
He hummed, before leaning down, taking a rosey pebble to be captured within his mouth, sucking on it as his fingers fiddled with the other. “Seb, I just need you in me.” You prodded his hips with the heels of your feet, pleased when he leaned back, pulling down his sweats, so that his erection bobbed upwards, the head already leaking precum.
“You want a baby that bad?” He asked in a brisk voice, clambering back onto your awaiting body once again, grasping his base with his heavy hand, dragging his tip to circle around your clit. “Want me to fill you up, so that you grow nice and full with my baby.”
A furrow made its way onto your brow, as you held onto his biceps, lightly rolling your hips up against his leaking head. “Honey.” He paused his movements, staring carefully down at you, reading your expression. “I’m still on birth control.” You informed him, watching as his eyelashes fluttered, and he pressed down unto you again.
“A little practise never hurt gorgeous.” Sebastian spoke, slipping his cock into your entrance, sinking into you as you moaned out his name. “Fuck, so tight, even after three kids.” He groaned, putting his hands either side of your head, as he began to thrust in and out of your pussy, breathing heavily through his nose.
“So big.” Your hands grasped at his naked back, casting down to grasp his ass, causing him to suddenly buck deeper into you, emitting another series of moans out of you. “Love your cock.”
“Yeah?” The romanian smugly asked, his lips drifting up the tip of your nose, before running them back down to your own, biting onto your upper lip, as one hand continued to brace his weight above, and the other moved down to fondle with your clit, causing you to tighten around him, your eyelids blinking repeatedly. “You love my fat cock inside of you, about to pump you full of my cum?”
“Yes Seb, love it.” Your eyes screwed shut, tears slipping out the corner of your eyes, as he made his administrations harder, hitting his hips languidly against your own. “Love it so so so mu- ah - ch.”
“Cum angel. Coat my cock, pretty girl.” You complied, reaching your high, as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as your essence pooled around him. “Want me to make you round with my babe, want me to make you full of my cum?”
“I do, I do, I do.” You squealed, your breath hitching as he stilled for a minute, filling you with seed. “Fuck.” You breathed, your chest rising and falling, as he remained in your for a moment, before pulling out, but you stopped him, clasping his back with your sweaty hands. “Stay.”
“Okay.” Seb said tiredly, his skin flushed as he rolled over, so that you were laid on his chest, your head falling to below his chin. “So beautiful, you know that?”
“Mmh.” You hummed, drawing circles upon his skin. “I’ll come off my birth control tomorrow, then, we don’t have to just practice.” He leant down to press a long kiss upon your lips, sneaking his tongue through their natural seam, gently sucking on your own.
“That sounds more than good to me darling.” He stroked down your back with his talented fingers, pulling you closer again. You felt his dick twitch within you as he felt both of your mixed juices trailed down his balls, that huffed from the sensation.
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poisonmaximoff · 2 years
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BELATED FATE (Elizabeth Olsen x FemReader).
The whole story: here.
Chapter 21. Accepting the fate
Y/n's POV:
I had to spend a whole night on a yacht in my cabin, thoroughly soaking my poor pillow, which was drowning out my endless stream of tears for several hours straight. Even my previous breakup didn't hurt me as much as spending five minutes with someone I wasn't even in a relationship with.
It's completely my fault. I allowed myself to succumb to the call of my heart, which longed for something unreachable for me, the woman who is beyond everything. I allowed myself to enjoy every minute spent with her as we shared small chuckles, big laughs and moments of comfortable silence.
The thought that I could fall in love with her that very moment when I saw her in the elevator that day and all this time deny the obvious fact, covering pure feelings with fleeting sympathy, doesn't give me any rest. Remembering me throwing unconscious glances in her direction, my rapid breathing next to her, the slightest feeling of envy towards Boyd, only makes me more convinced of my assumption. Only love can affect you like this.
Elizabeth Olsen captured my heart from the minute she walked into that ill-fated elevator and linked her gaze with mine, deliciously rolling my name on her tongue. Her special attitude towards me left no chance for my naive feelings not to find their home in a genuine attraction to the woman.
I could have explained to her right there why I made this choice, but my uncertainty that I could be with her for a few more minutes without surrendering to her embrace made me turn around and run away. Although I'm not as selfish asshole as I may seem.
I'm mature enough to respect her desire to remain private and to be ready to sacrifice our ability to be in an open relationship. But not along with the fact that she will be married to another person and I will have to be content with the role of paramour, even without the opportunity to have a proper life with her.
Elizabeth wants to live a double life, showing the public a fake image of an exemplary wife and being herself only with me. She is ready to lie to everyone including herself, her parents, husband and friends, she is ready to become a cheater by violating her own moral principles just to be able to periodically spend time with me. And I will never let her do this to her beautiful personality, turning it into a worthless piece of dirt because she didn't find enough strength to refuse one temptation.
It was probably one of the few times when my own fear saved me from a possible deep emotional wound. Although currently the pain almost tears me apart, creating a strong desire to simply cease to exist so as not to feel anything, I believe that in time I will be healed. Right now my only task is finding a safe way to do that.
I almost don't remember how the whole next day went, because I lived it as if in a fog, not fully perceiving the real world, wandering through my inner labyrinth from various thoughts. It even crossed my mind a couple of times that I should drop everything, quit the company and move away, but the fact that I have neither the skills nor the chances of getting an equally good job somewhere else immediately erased this desire. In addition to this, it would be difficult for me to leave my family and friends here and live in a strange city completely alone.
By the evening, I already began to come back to my senses and fully realize what was happening to me. Firstly, tomorrow I have to go to work again, because I don't want to let my parents down with my irresponsibility, and secondly, I understand that I won't be able to avoid Elizabeth for the rest of my life and now I have to figure out how to build at least normal business relations with her.
Once again wearing myself out with my thoughts, which has already become a habit since this woman appeared in my life, I finally allow my body and mind to fall asleep at around 2 a.m.
I don't think I've ever felt so exhausted and unwilling to do absolutely anything in my life. Sitting in my office and bringing what I think is my third cup of coffee today to my mouth, I replay in my head a dream that has tormented me all night.
Rich looking guests in expensive matching outfits have already gathered for the main event for many people here: Elizabeth and Boyd's wedding. The general excitement, laugher and happiness for the newlyweds are floating in the air, creating a magical festive atmosphere for everyone here except me.
Taking a seat next to my parents at the ceremony, I watch a couple in love up close as they make wedding vows to each other and a sickening feeling rises in my stomach along with tears in my eyes.
It should have been me putting the wedding ring on her finger. It should have been me who swears eternal love to her and gives her a loving kiss, getting the opportunity to call her my wife.
She never even looked at me, completely focusing her attention on her new husband, smiling at him with a sincere loving smile, while I still sit in my place without moving, swallowing a lump that came up to my throat, threatening to burst out strong sobs.
It should have been me.
I wonder if this is a sign or if it's just the tricks of my tired preoccupied mind because of what happened. Maybe I should've still gave us a chance despite all the difficulties? Although, considering that life sends them to us from the very beginning of our acquaintance, I'm more and more convinced that fate is categorically against us being together. And who am I to argue with it?
A knock on the door pulls me away from filling out some spreadsheet and I say "come in" loudly, allowing the person to enter the office.
"Y/n, hi," my red-haired colleague Cindy comes inside and greets me, leaving the door open. "It's already a break and I noticed that you're still sitting here, do you want to come down for lunch?" Wow, time goes incredibly fast today, because I didn't even notice that it was already 1 p.m.
"Yes, of course, give me a minute." Without hesitation, I agree and, having grabbed my bag, I leave the office with the girl going down to a small restaurant on the ground floor.
"You know what's funny?" Cindy probably didn't stop talking for a minute while I reluctantly picked my salad with a fork and listened to her silently.
"Tell me," I say half thoughtfully, staring down at my nearly untouched food, as I'm not in the mood to actively engage in conversation at the moment.
"Ms. Olsen stormed into my office today and ordered me to stop doing all my business, because she urgently needed some help." The talk suddenly became interesting for me and I curiously stared at the girl in anticipation of continuing.
"I don't know what's wrong with her, but she rushed around the building like a hurricane, issuing orders and getting angry at everyone who didn't complete their tasks on time. I've never seen her so mad, must be nerves 'cause of her wedding. I could barely keep up with her, what an experience!" This is not at all like the calm and methodical Ms. Olsen I know, but of course I'm going to keep silent about this.
"It's strange, she's not usually like that," I reply so as not to stir up anything extra and Cindy narrows her eyes slightly, putting another spoonful of soup into her mouth.
"How do you know what she usually is?" Oh shit, not these curious questions from colleagues, which always end up with all the employees finding out about it.
"Just helped her a couple of times, nothing more."
"Hm, okay. So...Are you invited to their wedding too? Since you seem pretty close to their social circle and people say it's going to be really grand. Rumors are spreading at the speed of light!" Thank you for an amazing topic of conversation, dear, I dreamed of discussing this all day and night.
"I don't know yet and I don't really care about someone's personal lives," I calmly reply, doing my best to hide the fact that I actually care too much.
"You're a weirdo, Y/n." No, I'm just in love with our boss.
"Anything is possible," I smile at the girl as I continue to eat my meal.
"By the way, she was asking about you today." I almost choked on a leaf of lettuce, hearing that Elizabeth was interested in me. "You're supposed to give her some materials for the upcoming board of directors." Shit, they're, of course, ready and I did everything that was necessary, but to intersect with her once again is not what I would like to face.
"Oh, can you give them to her, please? I don't see her often and she's constantly absent from her office, I never know where she can be found," the first dumb excuse that came across my brain makes my colleague raise one eyebrow.
"Unfortunately, she instructed me to go to the other end of city for new contracts after dinner, but another time I would certainly to that," she smiles and I'm disappointed knowing that meeting sparkling green eyes is inevitable. "The last time I saw her she was in the conference room preparing for the presentation, look for her there."
Taking a deep breath while standing in front of the door with a couple of folders and a flash drive in my hands, I squeeze out the last of my strength to finally go there. Should I just throw everything on the table and run away or maybe ask the cleaning lady to do it for me? Fuck, Y/n, you're as nervous as if you've been called to the police station for suspected treason. Get it together, you're not the miserable coward.
Leaning the knuckles of my right hand against the door and knocking on it a couple of times, I quietly open it and slowly enter the room, surprisingly not noticing a single soul there. Huh, I stood in the hallway like a fool for several minutes collecting my thoughts to face literally no one? Now this is embarrassing.
"Y/n?"
"Oh god!" I, jumping up from fright, drop everything that I had in my hands on the floor, creating a loud sound of things hitting the surface.
Turning behind me with bulging eyes and parted lips, I meet the tired gaze of a woman sitting on the desk. A suit jacket hanging on the back of a chair, the top buttons of a shirt casually unbuttoned, several empty cups on the table and slightly swollen reddish eyes tell me that Elizabeth has been here apparently since early morning. 
"I brought everything I needed to do," I say without even greeting her and glance at the paperwork strewn across the floor, kneeling down to gather it up. Hearing the soft clicking of heels approaching me, I hesitate to raise my head to her, knowing full well that even a few seconds of eye contact with her have too powerful effect on me.
She repeats my action and also goes down on one knee to help me put all the papers in place, seeing how my hands disobey me, clumsily dropping everything back to the floor. These couple of minutes of silence in being this close to her seem like an actual torture to me, threatening my nerves to break like thin strings of a harp.
Having coped with the task, I rise to my feet and she imitates my action again, continuing to stand motionless near me with her head turned to my side, which I see with peripheral vision. Glancing at her for a couple of seconds and noticing how she carefully examines almost every inch of my face, I awkwardly clear my throat and head to the large table to put my stuff on it.
"Will you stay to help me with the presentation?" A hesitant voice behind me asked, almost making me to instantly agree.
"You're just trying to spend some time with me, aren't you?" I understand perfectly well that this was just another excuse.
"I am. Is this a bad thing?" She asks almost disappointedly and I still don't even dare to turn to her, afraid that my self-control will let me down once again and I will throw myself into her arms.
"Yes, Elizabeth, it's a bad thing." I still decide to turn around and again face her gentle look, in which even after everything that happened, I don't find any resentment and anger at me. "We shouldn't be spending any more time together," I hate saying it out loud and being the person trying to push her away once again.
"Is this your final decision?" She looks at me with a hint of hope and bites her lower lip in anticipation of an answer, riveting my attention to this for a couple of seconds, but my cold mind throws me back to reality.
"I'm tired of making decisions, El. Don't you understand yourself the situation we're in?" I try to open her eyes to all the problems that await us if we succumb to weakness, because it seems that she only pays attention to what is happening here and now, completely forgetting about the future.
"In what situation, Y/n?" She takes a couple of steps towards me. "It's not my fault, that I fell in love with you," my breath hitches, "and I know you feel the same way. Why are you so resistant to it?" Her words don't sound like a claim or demand, it's just a normal question of a blinded person who doesn't understand anything. I never thought that I would ever be more mature than her, having to explain her such things and the fact that she doesn't see anything past the end of her nose, refusing to put herself in my place, starts to make me a little mad.
"How do you think I'll feel knowing that you belong to someone else and that I'll never be able to have you just for myself, forever being a second choice?" My tone is a mixture of disappointment in her selfishness and pain at the realization of the veracity of my words.
"But I don't love him, Y/n! How can you not understand that you will always be more important for me than everyone else?"
I can't believe how desperately she wants everything to happen in her own way. "If it were true, Elizabeth, you would prove it with more than empty words, end of the story." She averts her eyes somewhere to the side, digging her nails into the tender palms of her hands, and I stand there  clenching my jaw because of the surging emotions, thinking about whether I took it too far.
Not receiving an answer, I decide to continue: "I sincerely wish you all the best, you deserve so much more than hiding and sneaking out with a girl who can't give you anything." My hand involuntarily finds its place on her cheek and she leans into my touch, laying her own palm on top of mine and looking at me with big shiny eyes.
"If you're truly in love with me, please, give me a chance to be happy too." I look at her pleadingly, trying to convey through my eyes how sorry I am and how much I wish things had happened differently. She just silently nods to me, removing my hand from her face and leaves a gentle kiss on my palm, humbly accepting my words, allowing me to calmly leave the spacious room with my back turned to her.
A/n: please be patient with my blah blah blah a little longer and i'll give ya what you want 😁
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second for being interested in more of your antigone translations! i think you really captured one of my favorite things about a lot of greek plays, and antigone in general, which is that a lot of people just plainly say what they mean, rather than more realistic dialogue in plays and movies today. i know a lot of it is style, but in antigone it really makes me feel like. these people know each other. they’re family. they’re fighting and angry with each other but also speaking so plainly. especially with creon and antigone. and i really love how that comes across in what you’ve shared
ahhh yes! thank you. maybe i'll post some more of my favorite bits at some point.
the thing i love about antigone as a character is that all of her dialogue is in very plain and simple greek. she's very straightforward and transparent, and throughout the play she is singlemindedly focused on one goal. and creon is actually much harder to translate! he uses more complicated language, he's less clear, etc. so there's like... such a clear distinction between the language each character uses.
like, here's my translation of one of her speeches:
ANTIGONE: (450) Well, Zeus was not the one who sent these laws to me, nor did his fellow Dike, dwelling with the gods, who dictates justice, give these laws to us on Earth. Nor did I think your edicts carried strength enough that I, a mortal, dared defy unwritten rules (455) and steadfast customs that the gods put forth to us. It’s not just now or yesterday that these exist: they always live, and no one knows from where they come. So I was not about to pay a price to gods for fear of what a mortal man might think of me: (460) I know that I am dying. Why not die for this? And even if you don’t proclaim it, if I die before my time, I will consider it a gain. A one who lives like me, among so many evils, how can they gain a thing without the kiss of death? (465) So in this way, for me to happen on this fate just doesn’t hurt at all: but if I left the corpse that was my mother’s son to lie exposed, unburied, I would have lost. I do not feel pain for this. And if you think I’m foolish now that I’ve done this, (470) I may incur that charge from one who is a fool.
and one from creon, two lines later:
CREON: But you should know a mind that does not yield at all will fall the farthest: you would look upon the strongest (475) of fire-baked iron, hardest forged of heat and flame, you’ll see it shatter, breaking into smithereens. I know that I can tame a wild restless horse by giving it a smaller bridle: it’s not allowed for one who is a neighbor’s slave to think with pride. (480) This girl already knew the way to think with pride before she overstepped the laws that were laid down, but after she accomplished this, her pride was doubled: she boasts and laughs about the deeds that she has done. Now I am not a man: instead, she is the man, (485) if she can win this battle without punishment. It doesn’t matter whether she is of my sister or closer kin than those who pray in my front room, I’ll punish her. She and her sister won’t escape from their most evil fate: in fact I know I charge (490) the sister just as much in planning for this funeral. Now call her here: I saw her in the house just now, herself enraged, not in possession of her thoughts. Indeed the heart does love to be caught out before the mind devises evil plots in darkened rooms: (495) I hate when someone caught among those evil schemes then wants to glorify the crime that has condemned them.
so you can see, like, antigone literally just says what she's thinking. but creon uses a lot more metaphor and just goes on a lot longer. and antigone is also a lot easier to translate. like, if you're reading creon's and you're like "i can't figure out what the hell this guy is saying," that's partially on me and it's because it's just a lot harder to wrestle his words into english.
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blzzrdstryr · 3 years
Text
A silent plea
Yandere!Kujou Sara x gn!reader
Wordcount:1366
CW:Yandere themes, death and torture mention
Kujou Sara knows her place. It’s always beneath and at Raiden Shogun’s beck and call. Some may think it's humiliating, to dedicate so much time and energy for the tyrant, yet Sara disagrees - Baal may be a cruel goddess, but she is a goddess nonetheless, meant to be praised and obeyed and Sara is nothing but a devoted worshipper, willing to commit any atrocity if it will please her archon.
She doesn't indulge in it, preferring to endure the cruelty of her own hands and telling herself that it is needed for Baal's eternity. All who resist and defy have deserved their fates, no matter how grim and bitter they are. How many rebels did she strike herself? Electro archon’s heart holds no mercy nor pity for her enemies, so Sara’s shouldn’t either. And it did, for a time, allowing Kujou Sara to fight and torture and interrogate, all in the name of her Goddess, until she met you.
It happened on the battlefield. Sara was aiming at someone, all her attention consumed by the distant figure and the tension of the bow in her hands as she heard a rustle of the leaves and then sensed a blade pressing down her jugular.
“Order your men to retreat”, you demanded, adding a bit more pressure. She couldn’t see it but felt a small trail of blood trickling down her neck and staining the clothes. It was an awful and dangerous situation to be in and for the first time in months she experienced fear so clearly and brightly.
“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, she kicked you, focusing the electro energy around her body. It was enough to give her time and protect Sara from your weapon, leaving just a shallow cut on her neck.
You gasped then, from pain and shock, eyes wide as you grasped the injured hand, and dropped the weapon. And then it was Sara’s turn to get surprised - you didn’t flee and she couldn’t see your vision. Were you that stupid or desperate? Did you really think that you could defeat her in a fair fight?
Sara took a stance, preparing for a quick victory, which it wasn’t. She had to claw it out, deflecting your blows and kicks - you were like a wild animal back then, feral and forceful, seemingly just a step away from lunging at Sara and biting a chunk of her flesh out. But unlike the beast, you were smart and tricky too, throwing small metal trinkets to redirect her lightning, leaping at her only when you were sure she wouldn't attack. If it wasn’t for her approaching men who knows for how long you would drag out this battle, using lowly tricks and stunts to make up for your obvious disadvantage.
You fled then, pulling out a smoke bomb to create a distraction, and something inside her changed. At first Sara thought it was respect, keeping her up at night and making her return to the place of your “fight”, replaying your moves in her memory again and again. Respect for your resourcefulness and loyalty to your cause, despite the opposite allegiance.
Nevertheless, the dreams, wet and messy and too dishonourable to be said out loud, made her change her perspective - she didn’t respect you, no, she wanted to be at your mercy again, to feel herself helpless and powerless as your figure looms over her vulnerable form.
Those were sick perverted fantasies, not to mention traitorous too. As the loyal servant of Raiden Shogun she couldn’t allow herself to fall victim to the animal urges and sinful lust. Who knows, what if her arrow falters and blade dulls because of the same craving and shameful desire? How can she allow herself to live further after such failure?
That’s why her efforts in capturing and neutralizing rebel camps doubled, despite the slowly rising wave of hesitation inside her.
The early morning greets Kujou Sara with the cold breeze of grey waves and the news she has both dreaded and anticipated. Her men finally located and captured the small insurgent group, hiding among the lush forests of Kannazuka, roughly dragging the rebels back to the Kujou encampment.
“Bring them here”, Sara says to one of the troops after she exits her apartment, her battle regalia already on. The soldier bows and quickly hurries to the furthermost nondescript building - a makeshift cell for all prisoners before they’re sent to the capital.
Sara trails his figure, feeling how her own heart thumps, head aching from the sudden tension and anxiety and she doesn’t know whether she wants to see your face or not. “A moment of truth”, she whispers to herself as one painfully long second is replaced by the other.
Turns out, you are in that group too, as the mentioned soldier leads you out with the other prisoners, your hands tightly cuffed by a long chain. Kujou squints as she looks over all of you, your frame being her main focus. You are tired and dirty, she notes, but also defiant and full of fight, just like that fateful day.
Sara orders her men to lead you to the interrogation room, and put the rest in the cells, she accompanies the soldier, eyeing your form as he tugs on your chains - you don't want to go, it's obvious, but in the end fatigue and simple weakness win and your legs buckle.
You have new bruises, she notes, purple-bluish they stand out in a stark angry contrast against your skin. Maybe her men got handsy, maybe they weren’t careful with transporting you enough - no matter the reason she needs to punish them.
“Out”, Sara says, once you’re tied and secured in one place, defiant eyes burning right through her. The soldier quickly bows before exiting the room and leaving Sara with you alone, and that’s when she feels it again - the wave of longing and carnal desire so strong that she yearns to touch your body no matter how dirty and battered it is.
“Why am I here?”, you ask, voice low and scratchy after days of complete silence, snatching Sara from her thoughts, and by the archons the sound of your voice is enough to awaken something in her, pink dusting her cheeks.
"You don't have a vision", she says instead of answering you, feeling how her heart speeds up from those words alone:"but you still defied Raiden Shogun's eternity and you will be punished accordingly"
A crooked smile makes it to your face, resignation mixing with pure hatred boiling in your eyes. Sara wants to shiver and turn away, hide from your gaze, yet she endures it, not a single muscle betraying her.
"You will be tortured regardless of you knowing anything about resistance plans", you don’t stop smiling, yet your expression grows even more tense. Like a deadman, Sara thinks to herself - she had seen it of course, the face, the resignation, and she doesn’t like it. The mere idea of you suffering and screaming under someone else's hands enough to make her taste a sour bile on her tongue.
"Then why are you telling me all of this?", you raise one brow.
"There’s a way to avoid that. Aid me in my service to Raiden Shogun and your crimes will be forgiven". Sara leans closer to you, her golden eyes transfixed on your face. "Please agree", she wants to say: "It's for your own good".
“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, you spit back at her and she jerks away, remembering your bestial nature. If only you were more obedient Sara would worship you like a second deity, her love and devotion to you surpassed only by the reverence she holds towards Baal. She would dress you in silks and kiss every spot on your body, ripping out the most pleasurable and desperate moans out of your lips. She would fall on the knees before you, patiently awaiting your command.
But she can’t - deep down you’re an animal, feral and ungrateful and rabid beasts deserve nothing but death.
“I will come back tomorrow and ask you again. I suggest you take back your words”.
Kujou Sara knows her place. She wishes you knew yours.
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Intruder Alert
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Request from @perksofbeingatrex​: Hey I wasn’t sure if this was the right place to request? And if it is maybe y/n is a streamer and has an intruder or something idk I like reading angsty/fluffy stuff
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Hi Hi!
Thank you so much for sending in your request! I’ll work on figuring out a system for requests, but in the meantime if you’d like to send anything in via dm like she had, I have no issues with it! I’ll respond as soon as I see it just for some clarification and to let you know that I have indeed seen your request with no problems. :)
Anyways, @perksofbeingatrex​ I hope you enjoy this! I really enjoyed writing it and funnily enough almost started it in a completely different way (saved that beginning for a future writing).
I will admit my usage of the word “you” feels very repetitive so if anyone out there has any suggestions about helping that for future writings that would be greatly appreciated!
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Intruder Alert
Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader (y/n)
Warning: Angst / Fluff
Specific Warning: CREEPY AF, intrusion, stalking?
Summary: During a stream of Among Us, y/n receives some creepy messages in chat which quickly escalate.
Word Count: 1,438
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After being a streamer for a few years, you had become used to some of the peculiar and out there things that people have said in your chat. However, today, a day no where near Halloween or any other related event, you were most definitely not expecting to be receiving some of the absurd and rather creepy messages that you were receiving.
“You still live in (town name), right?”
“Is that a lawnmower I hear? I must be getting closer.”
“I can’t wait to see you in person…”
There were more of these messages and every time a user sending these would get banned, it almost seemed like double that amount would pop up. For awhile you were truly creeped out and then you went through the moments where you thought chat was just trolling you, however one message in particular really got you on edge:
“Blue house, number 332, right? Looks like no one else is home.”
That comment alone made a shiver run down your spine. You weren’t certain if they got the town correct or even the state you were living in, but this was too much of a coincidence to ignore as those specific details matched your home exactly.
Your roommates were out of town visiting family and friends and you had opted to stay at the house to hold down the fort and you had thought that it would be a pleasant experience to have the place to yourself for once.
Not knowing how to respond to that message you completely halt what you were doing both in real life and the game that you were currently playing which happened to be Proximity Among Us with Corpse, Rae, Sykkuno, Toast, Poki, Ludwig, Leslie, Peter, and Karl.
You were imposter that round meaning you were allowed to look at your chat and you had simply been keeping an eye on it due to the strangeness of today’s chat. You didn’t comment on anything that had been said and were actively engaging in a conversation with Corpse as you were following him around the map when that particular message rolled in.
“You could totally kill me right here, y/n, and no one would know. I wouldn’t blame you.”
Laughing, you had responded with, “Corpse, I am not imposter and I certainly don’t-” your words slowly begin to fall flat when you read that message and you stop moving your character as you turn away from your screen to peer at the other monitor to ensure you read that right.
Corpse noticed the change in behavior quite quickly. How could he not when you had been happily laughing beside him and then you suddenly weren’t, “y/n? Is everything alright?”
You had no idea how to respond as you quickly got up to lock the door of the room that you are in, bumping into a light stand while in a hurry, knocking it over. Your mic being unmuted caught this sound and alerted Corpse that something definitely wasn’t right. With your lack of response to his previous questions to you, he decided to attempt to call your cell phone which happened to be sitting on your desk.
As you finished up repositioning the light stand that you had knocked over, your phone began to ring. You answer immediately and mute your mic both in game and for the stream before going over to the only window in the room and closing the curtains quickly, “Corpse? Wh-what’s up?”
“Is everything alright?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I should still be streaming or calling the police… Oh my… I should be calling the police,” you trail off as you mentally make note of anything and everything you have ever heard about being in a situation where there may be an intruder, you just never thought that it could ever happen to you, much less on stream where your thousands upon thousands of viewers could see.
“What’s going on right now?” You were freaking Corpse out, you could hear it in his tone as he asked the question in which you weren’t quite sure of the answer, and with how heightened your senses seemed to be out of the mixture of pure adrenaline and fear, you knew you couldn’t have both of your anxieties going rampant at the moment.
“I-I… I’m not quite sure… I think someone may be outside of my house. The roomies are out of town and I’ve been getting these messages in chat and I thought that maybe they were just trolling but this one… This one…”
You’re cut off by a loud noise sounding from somewhere within the house and you quickly cover your mouth in hopes to make yourself quieter. You move to the far corner of your office with your phone in one hand and grabbing the light stand as you pass it. It wasn’t the best option for defense if necessary, but it was light enough for you to carry and could put some distance between yourself and whoever was to enter the room.
On the other side of the phone line, Corpse had quickly ended his stream and used his home phone to call the police, giving them your address before grabbing his mask and car keys. “y/n, stay on the call with me. I’m on my way over. I’ll be there soon, okay honey?”
“O-okay…” you speak as quietly as you could and thankfully Corpse had been able to hear the short response as he starts his car and turns his phone on speaker phone before setting it in one of the vehicle’s cup holders.
Thankfully you lived in a small town about a half hour away from San Diego and traffic wasn’t as bad as it could be as he was able to arrive at your house just within that 30 minute time range. When he arrived the police had already arrived and you were standing outside with them discussing what had happened.
Those 30 minutes waiting for Corpse’s arrival had been terrifying. You refused to turn off your stream in case it were to capture something, but you worried about ruining the game experience for your friends. These conflicting thoughts ran around your mind, yet you were frozen in the corner of your room as you heard more noises throughout your home and over time they slowly got closer and closer to your locked door. They were right outside of your door when the police arrived and entered the building. Thankfully, the person outside your door hadn’t planned on this and was handcuffed to be taken in for questioning. Even so, you were still shaky and anxious about the whole experience. On your way out of your house to chat with the police, you gave your camera a brief wave before leaving the game and the stream - you would have to apologize to your friends later for leaving without an explanation but for now, it was too fresh to discuss online.
You answered all the questions brought your way to the best of your ability and although you knew you were safe now, you were still uneasy and knew that only one person could make it all better… And then he arrived. Once you had caught his eye, tears began to fill your eyes. Throughout this whole experience, you had managed to keep the tears at bay, but once you saw him, your rock, your person, arrive they just seemed to want to be let free. You quickly excuse yourself from the questioning and rush over to Corpse.
As though he could read your mind, he opens up his arms to embrace you once you were within his reach. Your hands lace under his arms as you gently clutch at the back of his hoodie while holding him while his arms wrap around your figure and his head leans to rest against yours.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” He mutters softly before pecking the side of your head.
“No no no… You got here at the perfect time… The police got him and they were finishing up some questions and now they’re leaving and…” You pull away slightly to look at him mid-rant, “Can you just… Can you stay here with me? Like just for the night or whenever…”
He smiles softly before leaving a kiss on your forehead and gently nuzzling the side of your head, “I don’t plan on going anywhere right now princess.”
A small smile appears on your face at his words, “Really? Can you stay until my roomies get back home?”
“Of course I will.”
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tomurasprincess · 4 years
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quote #41 with dabi and prompt # 15 -hi it be raph and i’m dancing like a crazy rn,,, can’t wait to see what you come up with mari 💜
Pairing: Dabi x Reader Quote: Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that? Word; Aphrodisiac Warnings: Noncon, aphrodisiac, drugging, fisting, anal sex, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple forced orgasms, bondage, yandere Note: OMG Raph, I am so sorry that this took forever to write but I knew I wanted to make it really good. Hopefully I succeeded...because this is certainly some fierce thirsty energy right here 🥵 And yes, there is some massive sequel bait at the end.
Prompt Masterlist
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You stop your frenzied run through the back alleys of your patrol route in order to double over in pain, grabbing at your stomach as more cramps overtake you.
You don’t know what happened, only that you somehow got dosed with a powerful aphrodisiac that’s ravaging through your bloodstream. Your pupils are blown wide open, sweat is pouring down your body, and you can feel your pussy almost soaking through your hero suit pants. You know you have to get away, and quick, before anyone discovers your predicament.
And that was when the villain, Dabi, showed up. Whether he planned it or not, you’re unsure. But you do know that he intends to take advantage of it. He’s been following you for a while now, but has made no move to capture you. Atl least not yet. In fact, he seems like he’s having fun chasing the drugged up hero through the streets, and you worry about what that means for your chances of escape.
You know you have to keep moving, find someone who can help you. But as your lower stomach tightens in the most powerful cramp you’ve had yet, you can’t hold back the pained whine that echoes all the way through the tight confines of the alley.
That’s when you hear the laughter of Dabi, who has chosen this moment to catch up with you.
You turn around, fear turning your blood into pure ice as you meet his eyes. He’s smirking at you as he casually leans against a wall, acting for all the world like he hasn’t been chasing you for hours.
You try to shove yourself up from the wall to begin running again, only for Dabi to slam a hand on the wall right beside your head. Your head is spinning so much that you didn’t even see him move towards you.
“Don’t you dare fucking try it. You know you can’t outrun me.” He glances down at the obvious wet spot on your crotch. “Although at this point, you probably don’t even want to, do you?”
He dips his finger into the slick and brings it up to his mouth, staring at you as he licks his finger clean. “You taste so good, sweetheart.”
“Please - just let me go,” you whisper quietly, too afraid to worry about your pride, and your mind too hazy to think of any other way out of this. “I won’t tell anyone about where you are, just please let me go.”
His palm lights up with blue fire as he raises it towards you, and you close your eyes and brace for the burning. But instead, you feel heat pressed against your body and hear the ripping sound of your hero suit being torn down the middle. Your eyes fly open to see that he singed your costume just enough to make it easy to peel you out of it, and he laughs at your shocked gaze.
“You didn’t actually think I was going to let you go, did you? I have you right where I want you.” He shoves you face first against the wall as he plunges two fingers inside of you, grazing a spot against your inner walls that has you instantly cumming around his fingers. Shame makes your face heat up, a tear running down the side of your face that you’re getting off from being violated in a dirty back alley by a villain.
“Such a fucking slut, already cumming from just this.” He adds in a third as your pussy still convulses with your orgasm, your inner walls seeming to suck them even deeper inside of you. “You’re so damned wet that it’s easy to slip right in.”
Your fingers dig hard against the brick wall in an attempt to ground yourself, trying to let the pain distract from the fire burning through you. But it does nothing, and you cum again when he forces a fourth inside of you. The stretch of it burns to the point of pain, but even that feels amazing.
“Too much,” you whine, “it’s too much.”
“Nah, I think you can take more,” he snickers as his thumb ghosts across your entrance. He ignores your whimpers as he pushes his thumb past the tight outer ring of muscles. Your world narrows down to only the feeling of him working his hand inside of you, pain and pleasure all mixing into one and leaving you lightheaded and panting.
You feel so stretched out, so impossibly full, and his hand isn’t even all the way inside of you. This shouldn’t feel good, you think to yourself, you should be horrified. But as his hand slowly disappears inside of you, inch by agonizingly slow inch, you can’t stop yourself from feeling the intense pleasure. You orgasm two more times before his hand is grazing your cervix.
He removes his hand suddenly, and you hear the sounds of clicking. It takes you a second to place the noise, but when you do, you feel yourself go hot with complete and total shame.
“What is it, doll? Don’t like me taking pictures?” He snickers darkly as he pushes his hand back inside of your dripping, aching cunt. “The sight of that gaping little cunt was too much for me to resist.”
Your gasps and whines as he fits his hand back in are embarrassingly loud as they echo through the alley, and you can feel your juices gushing out and dipping to the pavement below. When he straightens his fingers out as he strokes the inner walls of your pussy, your vision goes white as you squirt everywhere, only managing to remain standing by clinging to the wall.
“Fuck yes, doll, god that was so fucking hot,” he praises you as he unzips his pants. “You better be glad you’re so damned wet, because I intend to fuck this little ass of yours too.”
He gathers your slick on his other hand, using it to pump his painfully hard cock as he guides it to the entrance of your asshole. “No no no, please, you can’t, it’s too much,” you beg and plead in sheer panic, but he ignores you completely as he begins to push inside of you.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you babble as you feel his cock stretching out the walls of your ass. You orgasm again as his fist and cock press against each other through the thin barrier of muscles separating them. “So - so full,” you whine as you reach between your legs to continue to stroke your aching clit. Despite how many orgasms you’ve already had, the drug is still raging through your system and you still can’t get enough.
“That drug really is strong, isn’t it? Hahh, fuck, look at how much of a fucking whore you are.” Dabi snorts as he smacks your ass, causing you to clench down and drawing a deep groan from the both of you. “Fist in your pussy, thick cock filling up your ass, and you’re still rubbing that little clit of yours like a bitch in heat.”
His hand thrusts inside of you in time with his cock, and you’re only staying upright because of the wall you’re leaning up against. “Please stop,” you sob to the man ravaging your body, “too much, it’s so - oh fuck!” Your next orgasm rips through you, and it’s almost painful in its sheer intensity.
Dabi increases his pace, balls slamming against your ass with every thrust as his fist continues to work your insides, and he hisses out a curse when he feels you tighten around him again. “Not going to last, holy fuck, this ass feels too fucking good,” he grabs your hip with one hand as he slams balls deep inside of your aching ass, releasing thick ropes of cum.
He fucks you through his orgasm before finally pulling out with a choked gasp when the sensitivity becomes too much, and you glance down to see the mess dripping out of you and coating the pavement. You don’t think you even have the energy to cry, at least until you feel a handcuff going around your wrist and snapping closed against a nearby pipe connected to the wall.
Dabi’s face breaks out into a smirk at your confused face. “Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that?”
“No, please don’t leave me like this!” You pull hard at the handcuff, but there’s no give to the metal and it’s cinched too tightly around your wrist to be able to slip out. “Oh fuck, no,” you sob out as you allow your head to fall back against the wall as that terrible, horrible lust is boiling back up, forcing you to rub your thighs together to try and relieve it.
When you open your eyes, Dabi is gone, and you don’t know whether to feel relieved by that or panicked. But then you hear the footsteps approaching where you’re chained, and you feel a hesitant sort of hopefulness that someone is here to rescue you.
That hesitancy goes away completely when you see who it is, and you just know that everything is going to be okay now.
“Are you here to save me?” You whisper quietly as you look up at the winged hero, Hawks with pleading, tear stained eyes. He’s going to save you, you just know it. He’s a hero, right? Of course he would help an innocent civilian after they’ve been violated in a dirty back alley by a villain.
But your heart sinks into your chest, despair filling every fiber of your being as you see Hawks reaching for his pants as the distinct sound of a belt unbuckling echoes through the alleyway.
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