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knivestothroats · 4 months

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ITWS/ProVic Crossover Event Of The Century (part 2)

This is a crossover of In The Woods Somewhere by me and Professional//Victim by @victimeyez. Read part 1 here. Content warnings: Captivity, torture (beating, scratching, electricity, needles, knives, burning, strangling, stress positions, very mild eye stuff like not even gore)

"To demonstrate his uses tonight, Ladies and Gentlemen, we will invite a very special guest on stage. Please give a round of applause for Fletcher!" Caius led the applause, bearing the grin of the cat who ate the canary.

Fletcher raised their eyebrows. Those who knew them by name turned to them expectantly.

Fletcher didn't like Caius' expression. It was too smug. He clearly thought he was winning some one-sided battle. Fletcher didn't want to play into his hand. But at the same time, refusing to take the stage, while maybe disappointing Caius, wouldn't paint Fletcher as the stronger of wills, only as too timid to perform for a crowd. Fletcher wasn't shy, and they wouldn't be seen as such. They threw back the rest of their drink and set it on the nearest table. Time to show everyone how it's done.

Fletcher walked confidently up the steps, passing Rory and Michelle with a nod. They stopped in front of Caius and folded their arms, waiting.

“You and Tommy seemed to be making a connection, I thought you should do the honors," Caius told them with a smirk. He waved a hand towards the table where the Cradle sat, surrounded by a variety of other painful-looking tools and implements. "Dealer's choice. Enjoy."

So he was that type of crazy. Fletcher took off their jacket, eliciting a few wolf whistles from the crowd, and thrust it into Caius's chest for him to take. They began to roll up their sleeves as they studied their options laid out on the table. "What are the limits?"

“Avoid arteries, for today. Or tendons. We have to bring him home alive, and in roughly one piece. Nothing severe on the vitals. Oh, and leave the hair, I'm growing it out. We just have to go a little easier than usual today. Arrangements can always be made for more later. But have fun. Take what moves you."

He spoke about the prone man with a wink and a little tongue-in-cheek. He was very comfortable in this space.

(Fuck.) Tommy watched as Fletcher made their way towards the stage. He had hoped for a reprieve after the Cradle, but it looked like he was about to be fed right to the wolves. This particular wolf had touched his face, had spoken to him, had almost felt like a real human interaction, but it had been a long time since he had found a connection that wasn't inspired by brutality. When he looked at Fletcher, he saw someone who tortured for their pleasure more than any dollar amount their clients could pay. This was someone who would take their time, who wanted lots of begging and crying and pleading for them to ignore. Maybe he could tough it out for the first minutes, see if he could earn some leniency with the groveling then. If he started right away, he wasn't sure they would be satisfied. His face flushed with shame as he watched them picking an instrument with care. He looked out at the crowd and saw the eager patrons hungry for a show. To be eaten alive by the wolf to the sound of a cheering audience, and all he could do was beg. He let one dry sob from deep in his chest, and waited for the worst.

Scalpel, box cutter, pliers, claw hammer, extendable baton. Fletcher picked up a cattle prod and tested it, facing the crowd. They saw Tommy flinch out of the corner of their eye at the crackle. Fletcher turned toward him, prod down at their side. Tommy looked up at them, head still sagging. There was no accusation in his features. He was merely resigned, like he knew this was coming.

"Well-" his name got caught on their tongue. They pushed past it. "Tell us what we want to know."

Fletcher jammed the prod against Tommy's ribs and lit it up. Tommy's body seized and he let loose a strangled scream.

"Does that hurt more or less than the cradle?" they asked when they granted him reprieve.

Tommy took deep, rattling breaths. "Less. The cradle - hurts more."

Fletcher put their hands out to the crowd, as if to say, "How 'bout that, folks?" The audience cheered. They raised an eyebrow at Caius and tossed the cattle prod to the table.

Fletcher loosened their tie, pulling it completely off. They wrapped the ends around their hands, and wrapped the middle around Tommy’s throat, standing behind him so the audience would get a good view of his face.

“No, no, no, wait, wait…” Tommy began to babble in a small, pitiful voice.

Caius stepped forward and leaned in to mutter to Fletcher, “Short intervals.”

“I’m a professional,” Fletcher whispered back.

Fletcher drew their hands apart, cinching the tie around Tommy’s throat. He let out a series of shallow gasps and creaking sounds as his throat struggled to move air through.

Fletcher slacked the tie, giving Tommy room to draw in haggard breaths. They waited a few seconds, then tightened it again.

“Wai-” Tommy’s plea was cut off with a croak. Fletcher extended the strangulation by a few seconds before letting up again. Tommy coughed hard, body rattling, trying to bend forward. Fletcher repeated the process a few times, choking Tommy until his temples pounded like drums and then loosening up enough to let him catch his breath before cinching the tie closed again.

Fletcher began slowly this time, giving Tommy a chance to beg before being cut off.

And beg he did. “Waitwaitplease, I can’t! I can’t go again, just please give me…”

Tommy ran out of time before the tie dug too deep into his throat to get the words out. Fletcher held this one the longest. Tommy began to twitch in his restraints, his legs kicking at the floor below him.

Was this it? Could he make it through this? Caius would step in if Fletcher was going to kill him, right?

Tommy tried to look to Caius, but black splotches were beginning to cloud his vision.

Just like that, Fletcher let go.

They unfurled the tie from their hands and unwound it from around his throat. Tommy coughed and hacked until his ribs hurt and spit dangled from his lips.

Fletcher put both hands on the side of Tommy’s head and lifted it up, tilting it this way and that to examine his face. It was flushed red, verging on purple. His cheeks were dotted with burst blood vessels. The side of one of his eyes was a brilliant shade of bright, bloody red.

Fletcher let Tommy's head drop. They draped their tie over their shoulders and returned to the table to go over their options.

Fletcher picked up the box cutter. They extended the blade and turned it over to examine before setting it back down. Reaching into their pocket, they drew their own knife and flipped it open. Fletcher took hold of Tommy's chin and lifted his face to them. They made a cut below his hairline, across the temple. Tommy gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, but didn't make much of a reaction beyond a hiss of pain.

"I like to start with the face," Fletcher narrated to the audience. "The head bleeds a lot, even if the cut is shallow. Freaks them out, especially when it gets in their eyes. Plus, if you're starting with the face, what are you going to escalate to?"

As promised, blood was streaming from the cut, running down Tommy's face and dripping off his chin onto his bare chest. He had to keep his eye closed.

"Forehead bleeds the best, with the veins up there. But as close to the eye as possible is good too."

They wrenched Tommy's face up further. He struggled to get his legs steady beneath him. Fletcher lined up the tip of the blade with the inside corner of the unbloodied eye. It went wide with fear, eyelids twitching apprehensively as Tommy trembled in their grasp.

"What do you think, Caius?" Fletcher mused, keeping their eyes locked on Tommy. "Your boy said you had one of his limbs reattached. Does that mean I can take out his eye?"

Caius's smile wavered. "Not for free."

Fletcher chuckled softly. They turned the knife abruptly and cut a line down Tommy's cheek instead. Tommy gasped and flinched, but breathed with a certain degree of relief. Fletcher pushed their fingers into his cheeks, causing his lips to purse. Tommy whimpered as Fletcher's hand dug into the fresh cut.

"You probably want to keep his tongue, too. Let the audience hear him beg. And..." Fletcher flipped the knife in the air, catching it by the handle again. "Was there a rule against stabbing?"

“No vitals - we don’t want to have to end the party so soon.” Caius’s calm composure was a front.

"How deep is too deep? You tell me when."

Fletcher pressed the tip of the knife under Tommy's clavicle and began to push in. The skin held at first, sinking under the point of the blade until the surface tension finally gave. The first bead of blood pooled as the knife went in ever so slowly. Fletcher kept their hand steady and their eyes fixedly on Caius, waiting for him to break.

Tommy tried to squirm away from the blade, but couldn’t manage much distance before stumbling in the pull of the restraints and pushing it deeper. He whimpered as it bit into him with agonizing patience. "Fuck - it's deep, it's deep enough! Please, please, you don't have to do this!"

Fletcher pulled their attention back to him.

"Buddy," they said with a smile. "It's barely an inch in."

Tommy groaned as the blade slowly slid deeper, his muscles clenched tight around it from the strain on his arms. Fletcher gently rotated the knife, pushing underneath the bone, and Tommy struggled to stay up on his shaking legs. He was taking forceful deep breaths through his teeth, trying his hardest to stay calm.

Fletcher sank the knife in another inch before Caius cleared his throat and said, “No arteries.”

Fletcher rolled their eyes and blew out a breath.

“Can’t do anything fun,” they said, pulling the blade back out much quicker than it had gone in.

Tommy cried out in pain. It was clear he was only upright because of the restraints. Fletcher paced around him. Can’t do the nails through the hand trick in this position, but…

Fletcher reached up to where Tommy’s wrists were suspended and cut along the sides of his wrists, just above the cuffs. Tommy shifted his weight, trying to take pressure off the new wounds, but his arms were stretched as far as they could go, and he didn’t have the strength to hold himself up any higher.

“Cattle prod would work for this,” Fletcher said, examining the tools on the table again. They turned back and pulled a zippo lighter out of their pocket. “But let’s switch it up.”

The only preamble was the grind of the wheel before the flame licked his skin. The heat was sudden and sharp and overwhelming, burning the underside of Tommy’s exposed arm.

He shrieked and jerked to the side, trying to get as far away from the flame as possible. The cuffs held steady as he pulled against them, only servicing to open the cuts along his wrists wider.

Blood started trickling down his arms towards his shoulders, ruby rivulets of warm ichor quickly cooling against his pale skin. The burn was agonizing enough to instantly reduce him to tears. The rest of his body started to turn cold and he began to shiver, icy sweat beading on his forehead. Tommy’s head started to swim. (Don’t throw up in front of the crowd, Caius will kill you. Keep it together, don’t pass out.) He ground his teeth together, struggling to stabilize himself. Fletcher let the flame lick up his bicep, finally pausing to let the burn bloom.

“You don’t - I don’t have anything to give you,” Tommy slurred out. “How much do you have to do to prove yourself?”

Fletcher turned the lighter over in their hands, thinking. “I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m just putting on a show.” They flicked the lighter on again and drew it dangerously close to Tommy’s eye, letting the flame vanish just before he would start to cook. “You’re the magician's assistant today. You know how to play your part, don’t you?”

Tommy whined as the flame disappeared with a flash. He dropped his head, huffing while he opened and closed his fists to regain feeling. They were uncomfortably numb and swollen, while his wrists pulsed in pain. More blood was oozing its way down his sides now, finally beginning to tacky in the air. Under his arm, a raw stretch of skin had bubbled and started to char in the flame. The burn still felt incredibly hot, radiating a fierce heat as if the lighter was still making his flesh a kindling.

Caius didn’t usually allow burns, unless he was administering them himself. Usually for cauterization. Usually. Tommy tried to sneak a glance over to Caius without Fletcher noticing - he sensed they very much wanted his attention to themselves for the moment. Caius was leaning back against the table, his face a familiar mask of indifferent amusement. He had perfected it for clients, but Tommy could feel some anxiety radiating off of him. There was an audience, after all. Tommy swallowed hard, his throat dry from gasping for air.

“I know,” he managed to rasp.

Tommy’s attempt at subtlety failed under Fletcher’s sharp watch. Their eyes tracked his gaze to Caius, who had a carefully casual look that his eyes betrayed. A touch too tense around the edges, at the corners of the mouth.

“Good,” Fletcher told Tommy, as they refocused on one another. “Because for my next trick,” they held up their pocket knife, flicking the blade open with a satisfying click. “-I’m going to make this knife disappear.”

Fletcher arced their arm down and drove the blade into Tommy’s thigh.

It took a moment to register. The pain was like a ringing in the back of his ears, it took a moment to even realize where the signal was coming from. Just, pain, ow, bad. Just like Michelle's little speech, his body lit up in alarm. (DANGER. WE ARE IN DANGER.)

His leg jerked back in surprise, pulling the knife out just enough for it to start pouring blood. his whole body went stiff, all the fight turning into freeze. His other leg spasmed, straightening like a board to hold as much weight as he could onto one foot. He groaned, and his legs started to tremble. (Shutting down.)

Fletcher sidled up and closed the distance Tommy had formed by pulling away. They wrapped their free arm around his waist to hold him steady, and pushed the knife back in with force.

The rough cry it forced out winded him. It had been a long time since he'd had the touch of a client that really knew what they were doing. The pain started incredibly deep in his thigh, feeling the thick muscle there give way. He had no way of defending himself, his head hanging over in the only way he could curl up. His arms were pinned uselessly above him.

Fletcher pulled their hand away from Tommy's waist and snaked it up his back. They gripped a handful of his hair and pulled his head up. "Smile for the audience," they said in his ear. Then they twisted the knife.

Tommy arched his back in pain, and his weight dropped fully to his wrists. It felt like he was being split up the thigh. His wounded leg kicked out in reflex, once, before dropping like dead meat attached to his hip.

Caius was there in a flash, touching Tommy's shoulder. "That concludes your free trial."

Fletcher gave a single, easy nod and retracted the blade with a much more gentle hand. Not that pulling out a knife was ever painless. They wiped the blade off on Tommy's skin before closing and returning it to their pocket.

"You seemed to enjoy yourself. Will you be a client in the future?"

"Generally I get paid to torture people, not the other way around," Fletcher said. They eyed Tommy's limp form as he twitched in pain. "But then again, I make enough money to indulge in vices and now then. Who knows? Are you still going to be watching over my shoulder if I pay?"

“Yes,” Caius said firmly. “Have to protect the investment.”

Fletcher made a noncommittal noise. They didn't offer much else, just took their jacket back and walked off stage. The crowd began to disperse back to intermingling groups, people chatting and laughing and sipping cocktails.

Fletcher paused to watch Caius address Tommy's leg. He had produced a med kit and packed the wound with a white powder before wrapping it in gauze. Tommy's only reaction was a slight grimace. His eyes mostly remained closed.

The other wounds were deemed less crucial. Caius cut Tommy loose from the restraints and tossed him over his shoulder to cart off.

Fletcher sorted through their feelings.

Caius was petty and insecure, jealous in some way that Fletcher had interacted with Tommy despite willingly leaving them alone together. He had hoped to gain something from calling Fletcher on stage, whether it was to embarrass them or pit them against Tommy in order to destroy whatever relationship he was afraid of them developing. Fletcher wasn't sure what he wanted to happen, but they didn't like being played. Maybe they had gone overboard trying to get Caius to say uncle, embarrass himself in front of the crowd by having to walk back on the business model of you can do whatever you want to him, but honestly, Fletcher had done worse to others. Far worse. But it didn't matter if the others stayed in one piece, usually.

Tommy was innocent, probably. Or if he had done something to cross Caius and the others, he had to have paid for it a dozen times over by now. But it wasn't beneficial to Fletcher to care about deserved. Deserved was a matter of opinion. All they needed was a matter of payment.

But Tommy was... fun? Intriguing. He had developed an impressive skill for reading people, surely so he could give the clients exactly what they wanted as quickly as possible. "Make dreams come true," as Caius had put it.

He was also so well trained, while still not being a mindless marionette. He screamed, he begged, he bargained, he complied, he said he was perfect for this.

Fletcher wanted to pick him apart, or at least have a long conversation with him. They also wanted to make him whimper and tremble again. And bleed. They really enjoyed making him bleed.

But they didn't want Caius hovering the whole time. And they didn't want to invite any of them to their home.

They glanced at their watch. There was time for another drink. And who knows - maybe their performance would help them make some contacts before the night was out.

@victimeyez @lonesome--hunter @desert-dyke @coldresolve @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @suspicious-whumping-egg @whatwasmyprevioususername @whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump @thatsthewhump @aqua-blogging @utopian819 @bloodinthemud @pretty-face-breaker @cursedandtired @morning-star-whump

#in the woods somewhere #professional//victim #writings #original #fun fact i asked tommy to let me choke him with a tie for research

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multifandomworldsposts · 1 year

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Trouble

Pairing: mafia!austin butler x stripper!reader

A/N: I watched the musical Chicago and I got the idea to do something similar to a scene in the movie. And this story is based in the 20s.

warning: smut, reader getting eaten out, make outs

Y/N’s POV

I get ready for my performance that I’ve been working on for awhile. I hope it goes well. I put my eyeliner on until I hear footsteps behind me, I look in my mirror and it’s Lola.

“Hey Y/N, you on in 12 minutes.”

“Thanks Lola.” I still look at her in the mirror.

12 minutes later

I go to the curtains to do my entrance and kinda got nervous. Jules saw that I was nervous so she hugged me from the behind and whispers in my ear,

“Just breathe in and out and pretend that there’s no one there.” I nod and looked at her and said “Thank you.”

“Go kick ass baby!” She kisses my right cheek and goes back to the dressing rooms.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, Sparkle.”

All eyes are on me, I get on the chair and did my pose, which a lot of the women here thought it was sexy. The piano starts to play, I start to dance. I walk up to in front of the stage and noticed a attractive man with other men. He notices me, his friends starts whistle, he gave me a look that I’ve seen before, a look that says, She’s mine for tonight.

I do my ending pose and try to walk off stage really sassy, I hear a lot of clapping, I nailed it!

Jules gave me water and I sat at my mirror and tried to relax and bit. I drank a bunch of it.

“Y/N that was fantastic!” Lola approached behind me.

“Oh thank you. I- I’m happy that I did it.”

“So we’re there anyone that caught your eye?” Allison said. I turn around and said

“Well there was this man and he looked so attractive, he gave me this look that I’ve actually have seen before.”

“What was it?” Jules questioned.

“He wants me.” The girls and I giggle.

20 Minutes Later

“Y/N! You have a request!” Allison gives me a folded paper. The women around gathered around and I opened the paper to see what it say.

‘Sparkle, meet me at the table that I was at when you and I made eye contact. A.B.’

A.B.? I wonder who that could be?

“What does it say Y/N?” Jules put her right hand on my right shoulder.

“Read it Jules.” I hand her the note and she starts to read it and looks up at me,

“Well what are you waiting for Y/N/N! Go to him!”

“Okay!” I go to my mirror and retouch my makeup and got my outfit that I had on before getting my costume on and went to usual room to get the outfit on.

I get my purse including my fur coat and said bye to everyone and went out the door to go to the bar. I go to the table where A.B. and I made eye contact and I see him with a drink in his hand. He notices me. He gets up and approaches me

“I’m Austin Butler and you must be Sparkle?”

“Sparkle is my stage name, it’s actually Y/N.”

“That’s even more beautiful.” I get flattered.

“You wanna go somewhere more private Y/N?” He smirks.

“Where to?”

“You’ll see honey.” He takes my hand and takes me to a car that I’ve never seen before.

9 minute car ride

We get to a house, a big one, it looks beautiful. Austin gets out of car and goes to the passenger side and opens the door for me and reaches out for my hands and took me to the front door, which looked beautiful. He opens the door and let’s me in first. I look around and the house already looks beautiful, the front door closes and I feel hands on shoulders, I look behind me, it’s Austin wanting to get my coat off of me. I take my coat including my purse off and Austin takes it to his coat hangers. I turn around to see him and he approaches me and wraps his arms around my waist and says,

“You want a drink?”

“Yeah sure what do you have?”

“Champagne, Vodka, Whiskey, and Wine if you want anything of them.”

“Champagne.”

“Go sit on the couch over there and I’ll get the champagne for ya.” I go to the couch, which looks so comfy.

“I have a question for you Y/N.” Austin says.

“What?”

“When did you start doing, you know, your job?” says while pouring my champagne in a wine glass.

“You can say being a stripper, I don’t mind.” Austin chuckles.

“When did you start being a stripper?” Austin walks up to me and gives me the glass of champagne.

“Thank you. Well I actually was a bartender there at first and every time I would see the dancers doing their routines and I thought it looked fun and I auditioned and I got in.”

I drank a little of the champagne.

“I think you looked really good on that stage.”

“You think so.” I set the glass on the table and look at Austin.

“Yeah Y/N.” He smirks and came closer to me and says,

“The way you danced.” He grabs my waist.

“The way you swayed.” I wrap my hands around his neck.

“And the way, you looked at me.” He gets more closer to me. We start to make out. He stops kissing me to take his clothes off including myself.

9 minutes later

I’m in his bed, heavy breathing, him eating me out. He could tell I’m enjoying it, me lightly gripping on his hair and moaning. He starts kissing my inner thighs, ‘God he’s good’ I thought.

“Thank you baby.” he continues to kiss me.

“I said that out loud?” I look down at him.

“Mm-hmm.” He stops kissing me and gets closer to me to face me.

“I’m so embarrassed.” I said.

“Don’t be hon, now, where we’re we?” He kisses my neck, I can feel him giving me hickeys. I moan again. I look at his dresser and I see a gun. I scared so I stop him.

“What’s wrong?” He looks at me confused.

“Why do you have a gun?”

“Well I bring it with me everywhere I go.” I look at him confused,

“What do you mean?”

“I’m in the mafia.” I get scared.

“What!?” I sit up on his bed and cover myself up.

“It’s not what it looks like Y/N.”

“You’re from the mafia Austin.” He looks guilty.

“So we’re those men with you, were they your members in the mafia?”

“Yes Y/N.”

“Oh god.” I lay on the pillow, hiding my face.

“I just had sex with a mafia member.”

“Y/N, I’m still the same guy you met at your work.” I look at him,

“I know but you should've told me when we met.”

“I was worried about you not going out with me.”

“Austin, I would still go out with you, it’s just, I would keep your ‘job’ a secret.”

“I would keep your ‘job’ a secret.”

“Those men were with you.”

“Half the men were there, I would tell them that I met you nowhere near the strip club.”

“Fine, but I don't want that gun around me or any of my coworkers.” He starts kissing me.

I kinda don’t trust him but I can trust him in bed.

#fanfic #austin butler #austin butler x y/n #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler fluff #austin butler imagine #austin butler gif #fanfics #austin butler x you #austin butler fic #austin butler x fem!reader

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distort-opia · 1 year

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Ok my dumb theory of why he has a gimp mask is that bruce is increadibly sexualy repressed (or maybe kink repressed but like, with obvious conections to gay denial) and is attracted to bdsm items but he doesnt want to accept it as something sexual so he justifies it by saying they are usefull for his work. Like buying restraints and rope and stuff and using it with the bad guys as tools. And like everyone around him thinks its weird but doesnt really want to acknowledge it, so they forget about it then batman suddenly pulls out the gimp mask and everybody looks away.

My other theory is that batman straight up doesnt know what bdsm is and no one wants to tell him.

(Unrelated but im obsessed with the idea of bruce being super sexually repressed and super in denial. Like jokers whole 'give in to your dark desires' things gets another meaning. Are they going to fuck? Are they going to kill eachother? Who knows!)

LMAO. Morrison would love the second theory, and your fascination with this side of Bruce. It would be very funny, and it kinda reminds me of an edit I saw on Twitter that utterly sent me, of the panel from Batman: Year One that has Bruce saying "Ladies and gentlemen. You have eaten well"... except it said "Ladies and gentlemen. I do not know how to fuck" =))

But realistically, I doubt that Bruce doesn't know what BDSM is (no one can convince me that Selina didn't use her whip creatively in the bedroom at least once). Although leaving aside his pattern of romantic relationships with women who tend to be dominant, or his canonical interactions with Gotham's sex workers as Batman, his public persona is that of a playboy who supposedly has had many sexual escapades. He's active within circles of rich bored socialites... I find it hard to believe bondage didn't come up at least once.

Still, Bruce owning BDSM gear because he genuinely thinks it's useful and practical stuff for restraining criminals is great. I came up with a different explanation for my fic, but I can sort of see this happening. Would explain why Dick and Alfred aren't shown batting an eye at the gimp mask :))

#asks #batman #bruce wayne #batjokes #batman/joker: deadly duo

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jazzytrait · 1 year

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(transcript under the cut)

London: Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to The Motive Trials. I'm London Greer and, as always, I'm here to guide you through all the twists and turns of this competition. Last week, our first challenge pit sim against sim in a deadly cook off, which ended with Kendall Shockley's being the first curtained window in The Arena.

This week's challenge will test our competitors' fortitude in the face of temptation. Let's hop they don't have a sweet tooth! Grim, what do you think we can expect to see in this competition?

Grim: London, cowplants are extremely crafty creatures. As most of our viewers know, when hungry they bait sims with a marvel of evolution: a cake shaped tongue. They also emit a pheromone which can entrance their prey, enticing them to take the bait, even when they usually wouldn't.

London: That is simply amazing! However, bear in mind folks, being eaten by a cowplant is not an instant death scenario. See, the cowplant drains your essence, which needs time to replenish. If you are tricked a second time before you're able to sufficiently recharge, Grim here will be paying you a visit. Let's go to The Arena.

And there's the starting buzzer! Grim, Carter seems to be playing with his cowplant. Is that safe?

Grim: It's not without its dangers, London. But, as we see, Lauren is scolding her cowplant for playing too rough.

London: Chen seems to have taken an alternate approach and is attempting to pet the giant carnivorous flora.

Grim: Over here, Kendall has possessed Lavender's plinth and is shaking it at her to try to break her concentration.

London: Well, that's just rude, Grim.

Oh! And Lauren's cowplant is the first to get hungry and deploy its cake decoy!

Grim: A couple other cakes have appeared now, but look here at Aubree being smart and making sure she's not hungry and [therefore] less likely to be tempted.

London: Oh no, Grim! Lauren has that dazed look in her eyes!

Grim: That enlarged udder of the cowplant is where the sim is drained of their essence.

London: Ew. Can we not talk about the udders?!

Who was that that just got swallowed up?! Was that Bernard Harper?!

Grim: I believe so, London. It appears Carter Rosen just tried to go for the cake as well.

London: Oh, Lavender! That's not cake and you know it! Snap out of it!

It seems the cowplant has spit Lauren back out.

Grim: She will definitely want a shower.

London: Even Chen is falling for the cake now! This is chaos, ladies and gentlemen.

Grim: There's Carter trying to get his bearings after being spit back out by his cowplant.

London: Oh, there goes Tianna!

Grim: Do they have cowplants on Sixam?

London: I have no idea.

Don't go away, ladies and gentlemen! Grim and I will be back with the conclusion of Round Two right after these messages.

@akitasimblr @comfyinn @potionofquestionablecontents @natiesims @yeshummingbird @simsinfinitylt @moonfromearth @wildmelon

#motivetrialschallenge #simblr #ts4 #thesims4 #sims4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 challenge #ts4 challenges #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 challenges #sims4 challenge #sims4 challenges #ts4 simblr #the sims 4 simblr

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sjsmith56 · 5 months

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Friends in Need - Chapter 14, Lord Buchanan

Summary: Buchanan introduces Lord Stark to the skills of his cook before they ride for Lord Falcon’s lands. Lady Natasha and Lady Yelena arrived with the Queen’s Guards to assist in the battle against their father. The women alert the soldiers still loyal to them to join Stark’s contingent that is already there. One of them, Silas, recalls Lady Yelena before they last saw each other seven years before.

Characters: Lord Buchanan, Lord Stark, Cook (OFC), Commander Hogan, Lady Natasha, Lady Yelena, Bren (OMC), Bren’s son Silas (OMC).

Warnings: Description of battle. Yelena wounded. Discussion of one’s humble origins.

Author notes: Yes, young love will be explored that will have reverberations throughout the kingdom. Silas, born in a brothel, but loved, acknowledged and honourable in his own right, will aspire to win the heart of noble born woman who has already vowed not to marry so that she doesn’t lose her status. Buchanan will be in the heart of it as the King’s Right Hand. All part of the transformation of this world.

<<Chapter 13

🥣 ☕️ ⚜️

Buchanan was awakened early by the falconer with a message from Lord Falcon. He had control of his castle but was still besieged by Dreykov's force. Half of Lord Stark's men that were sent to him were pressing the opposition from outside the walls but they needed more help. Buchanan alerted Rhodes to prepare two thirds of his men and all of Stark's men to ride, while he and the remaining third stayed to guard the castle.

"My Lord, I am well able to fight," protested Rhodes. "There is little pain in my wound."

"Commander, I need someone I trust to protect my lands," he replied, placing his hand on Rhodes shoulder. "I trust you more than anyone. Hopefully, with our men combined with the rest of Lord Stark's we can defeat Dreykov quickly. Stay, I beseech you."

Rhodes nodded and left to do his master's bidding. Buchanan returned to his castle, finding Stark had also risen. He updated the lord on the status of the fight and proposed they ride together as a combined force.

"Your commander is already alerting my men?" asked Stark.

"Aye, as we speak," said Buchanan. "Come, we have time to break our fast. Do you object to eating in the kitchen? I rarely eat in my dining room."

"I have never eaten in my kitchen but I don't object," smiled Stark. "Lead on."

He followed Buchanan through the passageways down into the kitchen where it was warm and brightened by the morning sun entering through the windows placed high on the walls. A place had been laid for Buchanan at the table and he bade Stark sit in his place while he went to the cupboard, helping himself to another plate, bowl and set of utensils. The cook came out of the larder, pleased at the presence of Buchanan. Stark noticed how her face brightened at the sight of her master, thinking the man was lucky to have such loyal servants.

"Sit down lad." She jokingly shooed him away from the cupboard. "Let me get those. Who have you brought with you?"

"Cook, this is Lord Stark," said Buchanan. "He has never eaten in his kitchen. Can you show him why I prefer eating here?"

"I thought it was for my great beauty," she cackled, "but it is because I make you feel welcome, isn't it?"

"Am I welcome?" asked Stark, amused by the older rotund woman. "I don't want to intrude on your domain."

"Aye, you're welcome M'Lord," she grinned. "I've known this lad since I bought vegetables from his father and him. Both were always gentlemen to me. When the Lord before him died without children and the lands awarded to himself I decided to stay and make sure he never wanted for a good meal. I'm still here so I must be a good cook." She leaned closer to Stark and spoke in a loud whisper that made Buchanan's face red. "He's also a good master."

Gathering their bowls she filled them with oatmeal which had slowly cooked overnight at a low temperature. From another covered crock she spooned apple preserves over it. Placing the bowls before them she placed a jug of fresh milk on the table and told them to eat. While they ate she cut several portions of bacon for each of them and started frying them.

"Your eggs, Lord Stark," she looked at him, "how do you like them? Scrambled, with the yolks hidden or showing...."

"Scrambled, please," said Stark as he hungrily ate his oatmeal. "Might I have more oatmeal, please?"

The cook snuck an amused look at Buchanan, knowing that he was showing off her culinary skills, pleased that he had such faith in her.

"Of course, M'Lord," she said, taking his bowl and filling it up again. "Would you like some tea? I also have a new concoction that a pedlar brought to me before we were besieged. Coffee, I believe it is called. It has stimulating properties and I've been told it is a good way to start the day."

Stark looked at Buchanan. "This angel came with the lands?" he said, his face beaming. "You are a blessed master. That oatmeal is the best I have tasted. I would try this drink called coffee, please."

The cook made both Buchanan's and Stark's eggs and bacon, with bread she had baked the evening before that she toasted. Served with a slab of cold butter she then poured both men a generous mug of coffee. Buchanan took his with a bit of milk. Stark tentatively tasted it, then poured some milk in and tasted it again. Smiling he drank more and dug into his main meal, eating it heartily.

"Tell me, Cook," said Stark, with hope on his face, "are there others like you? After tasting this food I find my own cook wanting. Surely, you must have a sister or a daughter that you have taught."

"I have two daughters," she replied, "and two sons that serve in the garrison. My daughters are both married and content to feed their husbands and children, good men both. Lord Buchanan has asked me to start training my replacement so that he and his good wife are well fed for many more years."

"Pity," replied Stark. "I have eaten at many fine tables and this is the best food I have ever tasted. You, madam, are a goddess of good food."

Stark stood up, took her hand and kissed it with a flourish. The cook beamed with pride that a great lord such as Stark would be satisfied with her fare, praising it as he did.

"All I can say is that this lad has always made his presence known in my kitchen," she said, beaming at Buchanan as if she were his mother. "He has always made sure my pots are in good condition, my food stores substantial, and my efforts appreciated."

Stark nodded his head sagely. "Your words of wisdom will stay with me," he replied. "Perhaps if I show my cook some more appreciation she will try that little bit harder."

Both men made their goodbyes to the cook and went back up towards the courtyard. At the doorway Stark looked at Buchanan as he pulled his gloves on.

"You are a good master," he said in praise. "Perhaps your experience growing up as they did has tempered the tendency to look at yourself as their superior. Something that I should aspire to, I think."

Both men's mounts were brought to them and rose onto their horses. The company of men around them also mounted their beasts, as did the archers. Sir Archer Barton joined the two men and together they led the company towards the lands of Lord Falcon, many hours ride away.

⚜️ ⚜️ ⚜️

Lord Stark's commander was in his tent when Lady Falcon and her sister Lady Yelena arrived with their company of the Queen's Guards. Commander Hogan smiled when he saw the women. If their abilities were half of what he had heard they would be of great use.

"M'Lady," he said, pulling out a chair for Lady Falcon. "Please, we need your knowledge of these lands. Your Lord has command of his castle but the lands around are being held by your father's army. What can you tell me?"

"Unfortunately, very little, Commander Hogan," admitted Lady Falcon. "This is my first visit to my husband's lands. I can tell you more about my father's men, including some which may be convinced to join me and my sister. I propose that she and I approach them under cover of darkness."

"Why would such men change their allegiance?" asked Hogan.

"Because their allegiance was to our mother, whose land our father inherited upon her death," explained Lady Yelena. "They knew she wished us to learn the ways of battle and to marry for love, not for status or alliance. They were our first teachers in combat."

He smiled and nodded. "Very well," he said. "I entreat you to make preparations to infiltrate your father's army and bring us as many as you can to fill our ranks. A falcon has brought a message from Lord Buchanan and Lord Stark. Both are bringing a sizeable company that will swell our numbers. I hope to begin an attack by morning with their arrival. Will that be enough time to complete your task?"

Both sisters nodded, retiring to their tent to change into dark clothing. They were going alone on this mission, knowing they could be captured and punished by their father. Both strapped extra knife harnesses on, expecting to slit several throats as they crept through their father's camp. They asked Commander Hogan to take command of the remaining Queen's Guard if they were captured and failed to return before sunrise. Then they were gone, travelling on foot through a series of rocky paths that led down a hill to where their father's camp was believed to be. As they crept from behind the last piece of cover they stayed close to the edge of the tents, until they saw those that carried their mother's family crest in a specific location on the canvas and stealthily crept into the first one.

Their mother had been the only child of her father and had learned to not only run the household but also to fight with sword, staff and knife. Her riding skills had been celebrated. When her father died and she assumed control of his lands she assumed control of his army as well. A few had grumbled about taking orders from a woman but those who had taught her and seen her grow from childhood were devoted to her. Dreykov had ridden through the lands presenting himself as a suitor. For all of her skill as a horsewoman and soldier, their mother had little experience with men and succumbed to Dreykov's charms easily. Once they were married he curtailed her fighting activities and impregnated her as soon as he could. She bore him Natasha, then three years later Yelena. Five years later Dreykov impregnated their mother once more but she was ill during much of her confinement. Both she and her son died during childbirth. Their father mourned the son significantly more than their mother, an act that distressed both girls. When he forbade them from continuing their training in the fighting arts they sought out her most loyal soldiers. In secret, those men still devoted to her trained the daughters from then on in the arts of battle. They also assisted the sisters to escape when their father attempted to marry them off to forge alliances.

The first dark tent the sisters entered held six men, all of them asleep in bedrolls on the ground. Unsheathing a knife each they crept to the side of the first pair, confirmed their identity and placed the tip of their knives below the men's ears then gently pressed the weapons into them without breaking the skin. Both men opened their eyes, their smiles creasing their faces in the dark.

"Lady Natasha, is that you, child?" asked the first one in a whisper.

"I am Lady Falcon now, Bren," she replied. "Here to claim my mother's soldiers. Are you with me?"

"Aye," he said without hesitation, sitting up as she withdrew the knife from its deadly target. "There are thirty of us still loyal to your mother and you two sisters. I see your stealth skills have improved."

"I am a Queen's Guard commander, Bren," she told him. "You taught me well."

The two men woke up the other four in their tent who also expressed their loyalty to the two sisters. They sat and listened in the dark as Natasha gave them their orders.

"You will awaken the others who are loyal to my sister and I," she began. "Stealth is everything. You must not be heard nor seen as you do this or our father will be alerted. Outside of the camp is a rocky path that leads up the hill. Meet us at the clearing at the top of the hill and we will return to the force assembled against my father. Have them bring our mother's insignia in its proper placement as that will be the entry to their force. We must all return before dawn."

The two sisters looked outside for guards before returning to the hill path, climbing to the top and waiting for the arrival of those men loyal to them. Gradually the men arrived in pairs and threes. All presented themselves to the sisters, to confirm each other's identity by name, by insignia, and to verify they were still loyal. When Bren and the original six men arrived they confirmed their numbers as thirty men. Quickly the women led the men back by a labyrinthian path to the opposing forces. When they approached the sentries Natasha revealed herself and told the one sentry to get Commander Hogan. He arrived within minutes, with a big smile spread over his face at the sight of Lady Falcon.

"M'Lady, you are as I hoped," he said. "Why am I here?"

"We have thirty men," she said. "They should each have an insignia that looks like this." She flipped open her collar showing a small fleur-de-lis on the inside of it. "This is the position of the insignia. If any of them show it from any other part of their uniform, arrest them as they are likely spies. I could not see well enough to verify their faces in the dark. Now my sister and I will position ourselves behind this group of men and prevent any from returning to Dreykov."

She covered her head and silently disappeared into the night. Hogan stood with his sentries, watching as each of the men Natasha had led filed past them, showing the proof of their allegiance. Each one flipped open their collar to show the fleur-de-lis insignia. The final three held the insignia up in their hand. Hogan put his hand up in front of them to block their progress. The first one attacked him while the other two tried to run. Natasha and Yelena prevented their escape, subdued the two and uncovered their heads.

"Plum, Feather, and is that Johns getting his ass handed to him?" said Natasha.

Both men looked back at the third who had been subdued by Hogan. In that instant the two sisters held a knife to the men's throats, causing them to raise their hands in surrender. Hogan signalled for the three men to be taken into custody and approached the two sisters.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"They were young," said Natasha. "The sons of the original fathers who were loyal. So were others but they had the insignia in the correct place. The fact these three didn't, led me to believe they were loyal to Dreykov, acting as his spies in the ranks, and the insignia meant nothing to them. He probably bought them off with promises of gold, women, things that men like our father value above love and life."

"I bow to your skills," said Hogan. "While you were away an advance rider from Lords Stark and Buchanan arrived. They are but two hours away. Sleep while you have the opportunity and in the morning you will command your combined Queen's Guard and loyal soldiers force. You are formidable warriors Lady Falcon, and Lady Yelena. It will be my honour to fight alongside you."

Both women nodded their heads, returning to their encampment where the loyal soldiers were waiting.

"I don't have beds for you yet," said Natasha to Bren. "Can you bivouac in the open for now while my sister and I sleep a little to prepare for the battle?"

"For you, M'Lady, anything," said the man. "I will take care of it. You and Lady Yelena sleep. If we attack in the morning you need to be sharp."

Bren directed his men to sleep where they could and be prepared to rouse in a couple of hours. He saw both women to their tent and positioned himself outside the opening, wrapping his cloak around him and lowering his head to sleep. Both sisters removed their battle gear but slept in their clothes. The two hours passed quickly and Bren called to them from outside the tent. Appearing a few minutes later in their battle gear the three approached the command tent where Stark and Buchanan had just arrived.

"Lady Falcon," said Buchanan. "Commander Hogan told us you acquired more men by finding those still loyal to you and your sister. Well done."

"This is Bren, our commander," said Natasha. "Once we have defeated my father I would like him to lead those loyal to us back to his lands and protect them until the next Lord has been named."

"Who says a Lord will be named?" said another voice and King Steven entered the tent. Everyone bowed but he waved the action away. "If being married to Peg and being involved in the creation and training of the Queen's Guard has taught me anything it's that women are just as capable at ruling as a man is. Since you are already connected to these lands as the wife of Lord Falcon I would like to offer your father's lands to Lady Yelena, assuming we defeat your father."

"No, not if they go to a husband, should I marry," said Yelena. "I plan to never marry, never give up my rights to a man."

King Stephen smiled. "Well, then we will have to change some other laws," he said. "What's the plan people? How are we defeating Dreykov?"

There was a great discussion from all assembled but within a half hour a consensus was reached and the plan drawn. Lord Stark, with the largest contingent would lead the main force with the King and Buchanan flanking him. The Queen's Guard and the extra men poached from Dreykov's service would pinch off the far flank, preventing any of the opposing force from trying to escape. As breakfast rations were handed out word came through that the attack would begin when the sun was fully risen off the horizon. As Bren and his men ate their rations Buchanan approached and asked if they required horses.

"Yes, M'Lord," said Bren. "It was necessary to leave our horses in the camp in order to escape without notice."

"I thought as much," said Buchanan. "I have brought ten extra with me and the King brought a dozen. Several of your men will still have to go on foot, I'm afraid."

"It won't be a problem," Bren assured him, "and I must say these breakfast rations are much better than what Dreykov has been feeding us for years. I'll be happy to see the old bugger defeated. My pardon for my rude language."

Buchanan laughed. "No, I think you described him well," he replied. "He is an old bugger. Send your best riders with me to pick up your horses."

Bren detailed ten men to go with Buchanan and return with the horses. Thinking quickly he determined which men would get the horses and who would still go on foot, including himself in the latter. He was interrupted by his own son, Silas, born from a regular dalliance with a woman in a brothel. When she had presented herself to him days before the child was born, she asked him to find the child a good home with a good family. Lady Dreykov had helped him and the boy grew strong in body, heart and mind with his foster family. As he grew older Bren knew that Silas was truly his son just by his look and took it upon himself to train him in the battle arts. He also acknowledged him openly so that all would know Silas Brenson was his.

"Father," said Silas. "I am willing to go on foot with you. One of the smaller men can have a horse instead of me."

"I was hoping you would say that," said Bren, with a grin. "Prepare your weapons for close fighting while I decide who else will be on foot with us."

He went off to assemble his squad. While Silas was sharpening his knives Lady Yelena came looking for Bren, causing the young man to immediately stand up in the presence of a lady, as he had been taught. He hadn't seen Yelena for almost seven years having spent time on the frontier, returning just after her flight from the castle, but recalled watching her train when she and her sister learned the battle arts in secret.

"Bren, where is he?" she asked, looking up at the much taller Silas.

"My father seeks out other men to join our squad of those on foot," he replied readily.

"Silas?" she said, her voice slightly softer. "You've grown. I barely recognized you. You weren't much taller than me seven years ago when I last saw you."

He smiled shyly. "It's true," he admitted. "Father said I had a growth spurt once I came fully into manhood."

"You are what, 16?" she asked, teasingly.

His face reddened at the apparent insult. "I am 23, M'Lady," he huffed. "Three years older than you. You are still just as beautiful." His face reddened again at the impertinence of his comment. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate for me to say such a thing to a fine lady such as yourself."

It was Yelena's turn to redden. "I don't object," she replied. "Two years living and working in a barracks to be a fighter has taught me that the circumstances of my birth make no difference on the battlefield. Tell Bren I would see him when he returns."

She turned away with Silas watching her departure. Just before she turned the corner she looked back at him and he felt a warmth in his body at the gaze from her. Sitting down again he continued sharpening his knives, thinking of the blond woman with green eyes. When his father returned he gave him the message to seek out Lady Yelena, wishing he could have gone with him.

As the morning sky lightened the final preparations were taken. By the first peek of the sun over the horizon the assembled company were ready. The horseless squad took the same path they had travelled the night before, waiting for the signal that the attack had begun. They were to run into the camp yelling and causing a ruckus to generate confusion and panic. Cutting the lines that held the horses together would also be done to scatter them, making Dreykov's forces more vulnerable. As they waited for the signal Silas looked at his father as they stood side by side, deciding to speak.

"Were you ashamed of my mother?" he asked quietly.

"No, son," said Bren. "In many ways I loved her and she loved me. I slept only with her in the brothel and she chose to work in the kitchens when I wasn't there. I would have married her but she was indebted to the brothel owner and I could not pay her debt as it was too great."

"Is it true that even a man of lowly birth can aspire to greatness under King Stephen?" asked Silas.

Bren looked at his son. "What is it you truly wish to know, Silas?"

"How can I win the heart of Lady Yelena?" Silas looked his father in the eyes.

Bren took a deep breath. It was an unexpected question but he recalled the boy watching him train her when she was younger. To Silas, it didn't seem strange for a fine lady to learn the battle arts. At first he was going to counsel him against pledging his heart to a noble born woman then he realized that some aspirations were noble on their own.

"You can read and write," said Bren. "Your heart is true and you believe in honour. Honour her in all ways and it may be possible. If Lady Natasha can marry a man who was slave born then there is always a chance for a man like you."

A slight smile crossed the face of his son and was replaced by a look of determination. At that moment they heard the horns signalling the charge and the group of them ran into the camp waving their swords, yelling and slashing at the ties that kept the horses tethered. They ran straight through the camp and out through the other side without losing anyone.

"Come, we will harry them from this side," said Bren to the others. "Keep under cover as much as you can."

As they played a cat and mouse game with the camp inhabitants the main groups advanced against the camp itself and began destroying all in its path. For all the planning it still looked like chaos as swords clashed in battle, and horses shrieked at the sound of the Queen's pistols being fired. Several men tried to escape by running for cover nearer the castle walls but Bren's men and the Queen's Guard pushed them back forcing them to either fight or surrender. As more began to surrender Lord Falcon began sending his own army out against those who had besieged him. From a distance he saw the flame red hair of his lady and galloped his horse to her side to fight with her. Together they advanced further into the camp searching for Lord Dreykov. Lady Yelena joined them on her horse and the three fought their way to the command post. Those inside surrendered but their father was not amongst the men with their hands up.

"Where is Lord Dreykov?" yelled Lady Falcon. "My father, where is the scoundrel?"

"He wears a woman's garb, M'Lady," said a frightened attendant. "He left us to fend for ourselves."

The attendant pointed the direction and the three of them rode looking for a woman. As they rode there were more signs the battle was over as many of Dreykov's men were either dead or injured. Lord Falcon whistled out loud and a falcon landed on his outstretched arm. He bent his head to the creature and whispered to it then sent it off into the air, watching it circle overhead many times before it suddenly darted to a place ahead of them. Spurring his horse and followed by the two warrior women he spied what looked like an old crone attempting to leave the battlegrounds.

"Halt!" commanded Falcon. "You, woman, stop and face your lord."

She stopped but did not turn. Warily, with their swords drawn the three approached her. Several of Bren's men, including Silas had made their way to this part of the battle and were watching as Falcon approached the woman on his horse.

"Place your hands in the air, woman," said Lord Falcon again. "Turn slowly so we may see your face."

Suddenly she whirled and pointed a Queen's pistol at Falcon. Just as it fired a falcon attacked the head of the woman and the shot went wide. Silas jumped on the woman and forced the weapon from her hand, uncovering her to reveal Lord Dreykov. The young warrior lifted his former lord up with one hand and looked at Falcon in triumph. Then his face erupted into misery as he realized the shot had hit Lady Yelena. Shoving Dreykov to another he ran with Falcon to her side. Carefully, he slid her off her horse and onto the ground. A growing stain of blood was on her shoulder and her face looked white as the shock of the injury began to affect her.

"Yelena," said Silas. "M’Lady, please look at me. Stay with me until we get a surgeon to treat you. M’Lord...please, she needs a healer."

Falcon pulled his knife out of its sheath and cut open Yelena's shirt exposing the injury. Quickly he went to the saddlebag on his horse and pulled out his pouch of dandelion and cat's claw.

"Water!" he ordered.

A canteen was given him and he piled the herbs onto Yelena's shoulder then wet it well. Ripping a portion of her shirt off he packed it all onto the wound and told Silas to hold it firmly in place. Then he whistled for his falcon and whispered again to it before releasing it, watching as it flew away quickly.

"I have summoned the Sorceress," he said, looking at his wife, who was also kneeling beside her sister. "I fear the bullet hit the artery. She could lose much blood but the poultice and the pressure will slow it. You, soldier, what is your name?"

"Silas, my Lord," he replied. "I was one of Dreykov's men still loyal to the two ladies. I grew up with them, watched as they trained, and learned the ways of battle from my father."

"His father is an honourable man," said Natasha, then put her hand on top of Silas' hand, "as is his son."

Yelena had watched Silas this whole time, studying his face. "Your eyes are blue," she said. "Like the ocean. I could get lost in them."

"Please, M'Lady, don't speak," said Silas, "just stay awake."

She smiled at him and placed her hand on his. Falcon touched it and nodded. "Good, it is warm," he said. "It means her blood still flows. She needs liquids."

He tipped the canteen to Yelena's mouth and poured some in. More dribbled out and she laughed, making Silas smile. Natasha watched the two and stood up, recognizing the beginnings of love.

"I think she is in capable hands at the moment," she said to her husband. "Let's deal with my father while we wait for the Sorceress."

They turned to Dreykov who was being held by two of Bren's men. Natasha walked up to him and slapped him across the face. "You could have killed your own daughter," she spat.

"I have no daughters," he snarled back. "You are both already dead to me."

She turned away then changed her mind and instead punched him in the face, bloodying his nose. "A ghost just broke your nose then," she said, shaking her hand. "Take him to the King. He has forfeited his land and will face trial for his crimes."

Falcon watched his wife with pride. "Remind me never to make you angry," he said. "I like my face too much."

"So do I, Sam," she replied. "I suppose this is as good a time as any to get to know my new home. Will you take me to it?"

He offered her his hand and they returned to their horses where the Sorceress was already placing an incantation over Yelena's wound and healing it. Silas, even though his hand was no longer needed had continued to hold and support her, as she herself held his hand in hers. Falcon looked at the scene then at his wife who shrugged then smiled. Those two gestures said it all to Lord Falcon. Just as he had won the heart of Lady Natasha so, it seemed, had this young warrior won the heart of her sister. It was a sign of the times.

Chapter 15>>

Series Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #steve rogers #sam wilson #medieval bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes au #natasha romanoff #yelena belova

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l2bbocsstuff · 7 months

Text

HAVE LOVE WILL TRAVEL

Another drabble from prompts I get on a Discord server I belong to.

Asami answered her cell phone on its third ring. Opal was on the other end of the call and she blurted out, “Where the hell are you right now? I tried the mansion but no one answered.”

“I’m never home on Sundays…at least I haven’t been since Korra’s down south. I thought you knew that.”

“I guess I didn’t put two and two together, sorry!! How long has she been gone?” Opal questioned.

“She’s been gone for two months and I’m going crazy without her. She tells me all the time how much she misses me and I miss her too. I mean we talk every second day but I’m just not sleeping well without her. I just need to feel her next to me. Plus, our anniversary is coming up and I don’t know if she’ll be home or not. I feel like I’m losing it Ope.”

Asami knew that the confession she had just made would have Opal’s problem-solving skills kick into overdrive. It did not take long for Opal to respond.

“Aren’t you the CEO of a multi-billion yuan company?”

“Yes, I am and that’s why I’m in the office right now.”

“And you’re missing your wife?”

“More than the three years she was gone.”

Asami could picture Opal raising one of her eyebrows as they spoke on the phone. “Oh My Raava. You’re the boss. You’re allowed to say, ‘Fuck it’ and just leave the city to go see your wife you know. I mean if I was you, I would book a first-class ticket to Harbour City right now and screw the consequences. You have great people who work for you and they can take up the slack. You did train them.”

Asami couldn’t argue with that. “I so hate it when you’re right.”

“No, you don’t. You love me!!!”

“Yeah, I guess I do. Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll book right now and I’ll send some emails to my team while I wait for the flight. Thanks, Ope. See you in a week.”

With that Opal and Asami hung up and Asami opened a travel site on her computer. It took about fifteen minutes to get her flight and car booked. The flight was leaving in three hours. Plenty of time to get everything done.

___

Four hours later and in the air above the Mo Ce Sea, Asami was very glad for the tasty food she was being served by the cabin crew. She hadn’t eaten anything since the bagel she had before she left for the office. She could hear Korra in her head saying that she shouldn’t skip meals. Asami smiled to herself and began to read the in-flight magazine. She blushed because it was the newest edition of “Life in RC” and she was on the cover. The story was about the new 3D printing machines that Future Industries had designed for home use. Asami continued to peruse the magazine until the aircraft's captain came on the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Harbour City. We are encountering some turbulent weather so it might get a bit bumpy. We should be on the ground and at the terminal in a little under thirty minutes.”

Asami put the magazine back into its proper place and tightened her seatbelt. Although the landing was a little choppy, she was relieved and grabbed her carry-on luggage from the overhead bin. After thanking the crew, she stepped out of the aircraft and headed directly to the car rental place. Asami knew that winters in the Southern Water Tribe could be wicked so a top-of-the-line Satomobile vehicle with all the bells and whistles was what she had booked. As she got to the counter, the attendant was smiling. He began, “Hi, I’m Kasen. Are you here to pick up a vehicle?”

“Nice to meet you Kasen and yes, I’m here to pick up the SUV I booked.”

“Name?”

“Asami Sato. I booked a new Scorpion XL this morning online.”

“Yes, ma’am. I see the reservation right here. I’m glad you picked this vehicle because the weather yesterday was pretty horrendous. There were whiteout conditions in the town; subsequently, the roads were impassable. With this machine, you will have no problems on the roads today. May I please see your driver’s licence and credit card.”

Asami handed over what was asked for and was relieved that she wasn’t recognized this far south. Once the transaction was complete, she walked out the front of the terminal and strode over to her ride. She was very thankful for the heated seats and heated steering wheel.

As she drove through Harbour City along the waterfront she was amazed by the large chunks of ice washing up on the beach. I guess it really was one helluva storm.

The trip to the Chief’s palace took about forty minutes and when she arrived, she was met at the door by the security staff. Asami was escorted to the front door of the Chief’s living area. She knocked.

She heard “Coming” from behind the door. It was Korra’s voice. Asami’s pulse began to race as she waited. She was almost frantic. The door was flung open and there stood the Avatar in all her glory. Korra’s brow furrowed for a second and then a 1000-watt smile burst from her lips.

“Asami!! What are you doing here? I mean I love that you’re here but why.”

Asami’s voice came out as a squeak. She pleaded, “I needed to see you. I needed to hug you. I needed to kiss you.” The CEO’s eyes filled with tears.

Korra lifted her hand and wiped the droplets away from her wife’s cheek. Asami leaned in, embraced Korra and kissed her fiercely. The relief she felt was almost overwhelming. The couple's weeklong vacation brought them both the comfort and support they each needed.

#korrasami #korra x asami #asami x korra #tlok fan fic #lik fan fic #lok #tlok

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arunneronthird · 1 month

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in the batcave where i feel safe

#i love their old suits #and jason who looked the same 30 years #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #robin #red hood #nightwing #red robin #batman #dc comics #weezer #cant believe i get to use that tag #my art #ladies. gentlemen. you have eaten well.

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artmakerproductions · 2 years

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Gender Swap AU

Well folks, it’s a genderbent AU! This isn’t based on any particular adaptation of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It’s less “This story, but w/ the characters as the opposite sex”, and more “How would their personalities/vices be applied to the opposite sex?” Ya get my drift? No? Well let’s dive head first into this anyways — ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between, I present to you: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Genderbend AU. First, a quick shoutout to Illord aka @mask131 for his assistance as I pretty much used bits and pieces of our conversation(s) we had with each other; w/ some minor edits.

1) Left to right: Willa Wonka, Charlie Bucket, Augusteen Gloop, Vernon Salt, Michelle TeaVee, Victor “Violet” Beauregarde.

Wonka Wonka (???): Here, her personality is a mix of Ms. Frizzle, Mary Poppins and Wonka (of course). Not much of a change honestly. She has a bit more sass and giddiness to her overall character I’d suppose. Charlie Bucket (13): Like always, Charlie character is kind and honest. I based her design based off old Cinderella storybook illustrations. Like Cinderella, she wishes to see the factory and a have better life for her family. I’m thinking she’d work at a diner as a waitress/cleaner. (Didn’t change her name cause Charlie can be used by both sexes XP). Augusteen Gloop (11): The gluttonous girl here is the product of the Fat Acceptance Movement; who her mother strongly supports. She encourages her daughter to eat excessively and unhealthily foods to maintain her “perfect figure” in an act of defiance against society’s views on what a woman’s figure should be (doing more harm than good to her daughter’s health). This is meant to be a jab at how both sides of the spectrum (underweight, overweight) are both equally unhealthy and bad for the body and there should be balance. Meets her endgame when she falls into the river and is sucked up the pipe. Her mother, like I said before, showss off Augusteen as a goood representation of the big beautiful women of the world; which truth being that the little girl is just a candy-addict deep down, a true junk food junkie. For the her demise, she falls into a stawberry chocolate river — cause you know, pink is commonly associated w/ girls and this a genderbend and all that. Vernon Salt (15): At first glance, Vernon is a very posh, very polite and typical snobbish upper class boy, the kind that has received a higher education and acts in a very adult, in a disdainful way... but, as soon as something is he wants is denied from him, he quickly becomes a childish spoiled brat, stomping his fit, using childish insults, crying, wailing and running to his parents. He constantly belittles others and flaunts his wealth and privilege to others w/ his many fur coats, trinkets and other valuable possessions. He wears these large fur coats as a means of making himself more imposing to others (i.e. Cruella de Vil). He meets his endgame in the Trail Mix Room, a stand-in for the Nut Room, where the ingredients of trail mix (berries, grains, nuts, chocolate) are sorted. Wonka uses highly trained weasels/stoat to sniff out anything that’s gone bad. When he goes down to claim one of them for himself he is attacked by the furry critters because of the scent of his fur coat — it being made from rabbit’s fur (an animal that is regularly hunted and eaten by stoats) and in the scuffle, he loses his coat to the weasels and trips falls down the garbage chute. Michelle TeaVee (16): Is a self proclaimed feminist/women’s rights activist (when in reality, it’s just an excuse for her to be rude to others and think highly of herself). She binge watches the news and relays what the TV says to others. Adding nothing new to the topic(s) she talks about having no original thoughts or opinions. Not even bothering to fact check them. She continually questions or “corrects” Wonka throughout the tour, which she pays no attention to and gives snappy rebuttals to her mumbling. Michelle spends her days watching TV nonstop, to prove how sexist and mysoginistic television is in general and fight to change television so that women have power - but in doing so, her wish for a "better television" is also sexist, but towards men (and even other races/cultures); mocking them, sticking them into the same stereotypes women are stuck into, etc. Her parents don’t really know what to do with her as a majority of the time they haven’t a clue on what she’s rambling about thus letting her get away w/ whatever (property damage, harassment, etc.) Victor Beauregarde (16): Victor “Violet” Beauregarde is a pro sportsman (who obnoxiously chews the same stick of gum constantly), but he only specialized in the type of sports that don't require a lot of physical effort and movement. Golfing, ping-pong, bowling or other soft sports for example. Stuff that really rich people with a lot of free time do, reinforcing the idea that his skill/talents are only skin-deep. He is very entitled, obnoxious, rude and believes no harm can befall upon him for his actions as his parents are always there to take care of it for him. He lacks foresight and lacks responsibility. Being a rather clueless idiot. He was given the nickname, “Violet” as a result of his vaguely violet coloured eyes (when really, they’re just blue), a physical trait that his folks have turned into his whole shtick as a means of helping him stand out amongst the crowd. Meets his endgame when he takes an experimental chewing gum despite Wonka’s warnings and turns into a big blueberry and has to be rolled off to be dejuiced. The dessert of the three course meal gum is changed to some other blueberry treat. 2) Victor Talking about his many accomplishments; one, of course, being the record holder for the longest chewed piece of gum. Charlie Bucket is extremely grateful and full of joy that she was the one to find the last golden ticket to visit the factory and meet Wonka. Vernon Salt flaunts his incredible wealth as well as his golden ticket. Acting as if it were the only one in the whole entire world. Augusteen Gloop doesn't talk a whole lot. Just stands there and smiles for the camera (as her mother is the one whose doing all the talking). Michelle TeaVee isn’t even talking about the golden ticket or the factory, but is ranting about politics n' other stuff. The reporter is utterly helpless and terrified.

3) - Charlie finding her Golden Ticket. - Wonka basically telling Michelle to "shut it". - Vernon (in a smaller coat he was wearing underneath his bigger one) having one of his temper tantrums. - Augusteen fantasizing about what else? Food. - Victor now as a blueberry.

4) A mix of the Tim Burton and '71 film, w/ my own flavouring added to the mix. : P 5) - Augusteen reaching down to the Strawberry Chocolate River, completely unaware of unstable ground crumbling beneath her. - Michelle, wanting to spread her views and opinions to a wider audience, teleports herself into the TV... It quickly goes horribly wrong. - Victor "Violet" Beauregarde starts living up to his nickname as he starts swelling up into a blueberry as a result of the chewing gum's dessert: blueberry cheesecake. - Vernon being attacked by stoats in the Trail Mix Room. His prized fur coats smell of rabbit (as that is where the fur is from) which just happens to be an animal that is commonly hunted by the stoats. In the scuffle, he trips and falls down the garbage chute. - Charlie enjoying a cherry lollipop in the Candy Room. 6) A (now) blue skinned, Victor enters Vernon’s room at a unfortunate moment. Vernon futilely tries to obscure what he's looking at, fumbling to quickly close the tab, but Victor's already seen it. This is why you should always knock on the door first before you enter. Stupid. I know. I thought it was funny. 7) The blue skinned Victor Beauregarde bonks Vernon Salt w/ the 'No Horny' stick, but is revealed that 'No' was a sticky note slapped over the words 'Mor'. Poor Victor is chased by Vernon à la Pepé Le Pew from Looney Tunes. It’s revealed that Michelle TeaVee who tampered w/ the bonk stick. We get the classic, “Ain’t I a stinker?” line from her at the end. As the last one was based on a meme, same applies for the sequel. That being the horny jail meme: knowyourmeme.com/memes/go-to-h…

8) The family members of the ticket winners brought to the tour: - Mr. Salt (loosely modelled off Mr. Salt from the '71 film, and Victoria's father from "Corpse Bride"). - Ms. Gloop (a mix of Queen of Hearts and Ursula). - Grandma Joanne (modelled after Angela Lansbury. Done so after seeing her on "Murder, She Wrote"). - Mr. Beauregarde (Sort of modelled after Eugene from the musical; the "V" is for Victor). - Mrs. TeaVee (Currently has a stuffy nose from her allergies; under recommendation of her 'internet savy' daughter, she hasn't used any name or store brand congestion removal sprays. Michelle doesn’t want the big companies to get their money).

#charlie and the chocolate factory #willy wonka #gender swap #genderbend #au #fan art #digital art #sketches #wonka #violet beauregarde #charlie bucket #veruca salt #mike teavee #augustus gloop #genderbend au

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phantomchick · 11 months

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Looking back on Batman (2022)

Enough time has passed now that my initial adrenaline rush )and then later afterglow) over Batman 2022 has resolved itself at least enough that I can look back on the film a bit more critically.

I enjoyed this movie, I enjoyed this Batman, but and this is a big but, this movie did not like Batman.

The thing about Batman is that he's a grim dark fantasy where a hero who's in pain can use that pain as a motivation to help people, to change things, to strive for a better Gotham because he just can't fucking accept the Gotham that allowed his parents to get killed while coming home from the movies, that kills so many other parents and children and sucks the people that remain into a mire of corruption and austerity. This is not that Batman, this is a Batman that's utterly oblivious to the problems with wealth inequality until the movie rubs in his face and even then has his inaction in his role of Bruce Wayne while letting his Batman role monopolise his every waking thought presented as his main problem. This is not a Batman that announces to a dinner party, “Ladies. Gentlemen. You have eaten well. You've eaten Gotham's wealth. Its spirit. Your feast is nearly over. From this moment on...none of you are safe.”. That attacks violent crime on two fronts by giving legitimate jobs to ex cons by day and solving kidnapping or murder cases by night.

And most crucially this isn't a Batman that ... succeeds. By that I mean yes he solves the grand mystery, yes he saves people in the flood, but the classic Batman would have saved that man he interrupts the bomb disposal squad to answer Riddler's phone call for. The classic Batman would have saved Falcone, evil doer that he is, not because he deserved to live but because Batman is a hyper competent hero who's comic gimmick was that he was quick witted enough to stay ahead of the crooks and always save the person in front of him as a result, perhaps it's only natural for that to be subverted with the Riddler as his enemy (a character invented with the intent of putting the detective hero to the test when it came to his cerebral limits) but because this is a stand alone film, which as the name says has this Batman stand alone with the contents as the only basis to judge him with it has the effect of making his presence as a hero less warranted. After all, does Batman's presence in this film really save anyone besides the flood victims and Selina?

Yes the only victims who really get killed are all bad people but... that's not the point of Batman, the point is that he saves everyone he can.

The film also does the whole 'batman creates his own villains and actively makes the city worse because he espouses vengeance and violence' thing which egh, slightly more palatable with the transition from vengeance to hope, but I really don't fucking like it all the same. And besides that I dislike the idea that vengeance can't be hopeful, that a man who lost everything in one terrifying night, who got no justice, whose loved ones and personal loss and whose innocence remain unavenged saying to himself "I am justice, I am vengeance, I am the night!" as a way of reclaiming everything that's happened to him and everything he wants to be for the people of Gotham whose cries go unanswered by corrupt law enforcement and an even more corrupt bureaucracy, is presented as invalid, as somehow immature. When Batman was always crafted as a mature hero in the mold of the Scarlet Pimpernel and Zorro and James Bond, of Sherlock Holmes! That was part of his central appeal! He's the cool mature down to earth, detective hero.

Here he is reduced to a naive rich boy who's so ignorant his main approach to crime is to inefficiently beat the shit out of whatever hoodlums he encounters and who literally doesn't have the idea of using his money to fix the poverty or corruption fuelling the crime until Riddler highlights what his parents wanted to do for the city by denigrating it + the politician lady who repeatedly points it out. It's a movie that loves Batman but also passionately declares the stupidity of Batman. Perhaps that's also inevitable because solving crime by beating it up while dressed as a Bat is well, silly, when you approach it with real world cynicism instead of the wish fulfillment, the fantasy of being rich and powerful and smart enough to actually do something about an entire city that's drowning in crime, that has been drowning, suffocating, for decades, and have a hope of succeeding. There is no fun of acting like an airhead so the other rich people and crooks will underestimate and look down on you like they look down on everyone in the city as you use your access to learn things people outside that circle of rich opportunists can't and then use it to reveal their crimes as a vigilante whose identity no one suspects. Instead we have a traumatised Bruce Wayne openly beg Don Falcone for information who indulges him because he owes his father that favour and Bruce Wayne isn't a threat, is it interesting pathos? Definitely! Is it dramatic and fun! Also yes! Is it traditional Batman/Bruce Wayne secret identity shenanigans? Well kind of in that it gets him the extra information but genuinely not so much because it's not really an act. Does it have to be traditional Batman? I really don't know. We can't ever create something refreshing like this movie was if we don't try to deviate from the norm and in that regard I think it deserves respect. And yet. There's a but.

This movie doesn't let Batman succeed at anything but the bare minimum as a vigilante but it does let him try his best, always and it lets him care, deeply. Which is enough that it pulls through as a good batman film. However for all the budget and clever characterisation I don't think it's a great Batman film. After all Batman is a superhero fantasy and in those, the good guys are allowed to save the day.