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gingernut1314 · 7 months

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The Hunter and the Hunted

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy the clown annoys you. More than annoys you. It's been that way ever since you were both little and as a bounty hunter, it made all the sense in the world to dislike him. When you are captured by the Marines for crimes you had been trying to outrun for years, you find him locked up right alongside you and just as annoying as ever. But when the chance for escape presents itself, it comes with strings attached. Strings that test the very natural order between the hunter and the hunted--an order Buggy seems to have no regard for.

Topics: angst, smut (p in v), canon typical violence, enemies to lovers

Word Count: 5.3K

Commissioned by: @katelynwithpaint (Thank you for commissioning me, it was so much fun to write! ❤️ ❤️)

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You were thrown into the dank brig of a marine vessel, the force of the action enough to send you falling to the ground, your bound hands barking in pain as you tried to keep yourself upright.

The two marines who had been commanded to bring you down here spat filthy insults your way. Insults you should have brushed off and forgotten about, but you have never been good at taking such things. Had always let them get under your skin--get you angry and upset.

Snapping your head around, teeth bared in a nasty snarl, you watched the door slam shut behind you.

“You fucking spoon-fed idiots!” You hissed up at the two marines who had been ready to leave before you had spoken. “You know nothing of--” The taller one slammed his fist against the bars of your prison, causing a loud bang to ring through the metal walls.

You hardly flinched. Hardly bat an eye. You’d dealt with some of the most terrifying big bads the East Blue had to offer. Big bads who thrived off chaos and ate babies for breakfast. These two goody-two-shoes marines would never in their wildest dreams live up to those creatures. Never utterly terrify you.

“We know everything about you. We know of your failed run as a bounty hunter. We know you killed a respected and loved member of our community--you are a criminal. Nothing but a no-good pirate.” He shot down at you in an air of superiority. Like you were nothing but the dirt under his shoes.

A criminal. A no-good pirate. Those few words were worse than any insult one could possibly conjure and spit at you. Worse than physically getting slapped in the face.

You were by no means a good person, but a criminal--you were far from being a criminal. Not in the same sense as those you’d hunted down. Those who had done true evil in this world. Who had hurt innocent people--children.

Criminals like their respected and loved community members. A, now-dead, marine commodore. A commodore who had gone too far in life without getting punished for his crimes.

Crimes you punished him for.

A crackling laugh filled the air before you could spit any sort of slights their way. A laugh that started off low, like a chuckling at oneself, but gradually grew into a wicked, bellowing thing.

It was a laugh you were all too familiar with. One you had first heard as a fresh, new bounty hunter following your former master on her journey to take down Silvers Rayleigh, fearsome first mate of the soon-to-be King of the Pirates.

Your master had been killed not long into the fight, but you had been too busy fighting off a red-nosed boy around your age to notice. You two had beaten the absolute shit out of each other, and would have continued till only one of you left victorious, but Rayleigh had stepped in, stopping you two before that could happen. He had spared you, despite your hot-headed vows of revenge.

You had thought all too much about that red-nosed boy as you continued across the East Blue. Thought about how he had been just as passionate and confident in his mentor’s skills--in his own skills--as you were. How he had been just as reckless and rash as you.

It wasn’t for another five years before you saw him again, still sailing around with your master’s killer, though you had given up on that revenge long before then.

You had at this point in time found three other like-minded bounty hunters whom you joined up with. Hunters who had been tracking down a pirate unrelated to the boy you had battled with, though who just so happened to be celebrating some sort of victory on the same island.

You two almost went head to head once more, had it not been for his calm and collected red-headed friend. A friend who had scared the shit out of you, despite his cool nature, so your fight ended swiftly and you left.

More years passed and the more you ran into the clown. Each time you two found some way to fight--whether it be physical or verbal. A few times that red-headed friend was with him to help break it up, and other times you both were thrown out of whatever bar you had been in.

You ran into him once more in some backwater bar, sitting alone and nursing a large pint of beer. He smirked your way when he spotted you and, to your surprise, bought you a drink. A drink you took reluctantly, waiting for the moment you would have to defend yourself against him. But instead, he merely talked to you. Told you how his captain had dissolved his crew, leaving him adrift.

And there was hurt in his eyes. A sense of abandonment that had you carefully telling him of what had been happening in your own shit-filled life. Of a marine whose name you had just recently crossed off your list. How you had finally gotten him after years--gotten revenge for the lives he had taken from you in your youth.

He’d laughed in something kin to understanding, insisting on buying you another drink to which you declined and went on your way.

The last time you came across that laugh, you had just been left for dead by your so-called comrades--friends. Left to be found by the very marines you had crossed when you stumbled into a seemingly deserted town. A town you quickly found was overrun with freakish pirates. Freakish pirates who had managed to kidnap you in your weakened state and drag you into an equally freakish circus tent.

The boy had grown up, just as you had. Had grown up to be captain of this band of freaks. One who had chained the poor people of that town up and used them for his own, sick entertainment.

But when you saw him, that laugh sounding in your ears, you were reminded of just how much you thought of it. How many of your dreams had been haunted by it’s ring. Of how you, for whatever reason, held a sick sense of respect for him. And his eyes--they were all too bright looking upon you. All too seeing.

After dramatically introducing you to his crew and captives, he had you dragged off into a back room where you were once more surprised when his freaks cleaned your wounds and gave you some water to drink.

It was all very strange. It went against the very natural order of the world. The order between the hunter and the hunted.

It had freaked you out all so much, you escaped before you had to face that haunting laugh and its owner.

But here it was again, spilling from the red-painted lips of Buggy the clown, captain of the Buggy pirates, locked away in this all too wet marine brig pulling haunting ghosts from your past into the forefront of your mind.

You kept your eyes trained on the two marines before you, watching them like a hawk. Watching for a slip-up. Something--anything that would help you in this situation. Something that would keep your eyes off the crazed clown and his grating laugh.

“If she’s a pirate, then that would make me one you shithead.” His gruff voice joked. The two marines shared a look between them. One that almost looked to have uneasy undertones to it.

“You have no right interfering in marine business.” The second shot towards the cell just next to yours, only resulting in more insane laughter filling the air. The first marine just shook his head in growing annoyance.

“Come on. He’s all locked up. That big-nosed freak can’t do a thing.” The laughter cut off sharply.

“What did you just as say?” Buggy asked, his tone becoming all that much more serious. That more threatening--dangerous. The Marines bore shit-eating grins, obviously finding his growing pissed-off nature amusing.

“You know, I never liked clowns. Freaky little fuckers.” The first said as they began heading for the exit once more.

“This freaky little fucker is going to cut your nose off and force you to eat it when I get out of here.” This only seemed to tickle the marines further and they left without so much as another word.

The brig was dead as a tomb for a moment you used to look about the confines of your cell, trying to find any weaknesses or things to make a makeshift weapon with so that you could escape sooner rather than later. Buggy gave an exasperated huffing sigh as your eyes locked onto something in the corner, just by the horrible-looking toilet.

“Yeesh. Some people just don’t know how to have fun.” You all but ignored him, messing with the bit of scrap metal that had been idioticly left unfixed. “Whatcha got there, peach?” He said, using the nickname he had given you after you threw a peach you had mistaken for a rock at him when you had seen him that second time. He had used it ever since then and it’s continued to annoy you.

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, finally yanking the bit of metal from its last hold on the base of the toilet. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“That’s no fun.”

“Since when have you ever thought of me and fun at the same time?” You huffed, working on trying to unlock the cuffs that had been slapped around your wrists. It took you a minute to even get the bit of metal into the small keyhole, and with your hands locked together as they were, you hardly saw yourself free any time soon.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself. I think you’re plenty fun. I think you do a fantastically fun job playing pirate bounty hunter.” You again ignored him. Tried not to even hear his all-too-chipper voice as you continued to work. “Playing pirate bounty hunter when you can’t even sail a ship. I think it shows your commitment to the part.”

You finally snapped around to shoot a daggered glare Buggy’s way, whose usual red-painted lips were pulled up in a wide smile. He knelt before the bars separating the two cells, gloved hands clasped together before him. His clown-styled makeup was smudged in a way that told you he must have been here for a few days. You also noted the absence of his hat, which bore his insignia in the center, leaving him in his red and white striped bandana.

You couldn’t help the small part of you that wished he was wearing it--the small part that thought it suited him all too well. A small part of you that you shoved down deep.

Seeing him again after god knows how long was always--staggering. It brought back up such ugly feelings of hatred and utter sadness you’d felt after your master's death. Brought back up how surprised you’d been when he offered you a drink. Brought back up that equally as ugly feeling of respect and misplaced understanding.

Buggy was an actor--a performer. Of course he would play the part he needed to get you to let your guard down--to not beat him into a pulp.

It was all so aggravating.

“It’s not some part.” Buggy rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion that only made your frustration coil tighter in your chest. “And I can sail a ship.” Buggy let out a sharp mocking laugh.

“I seem to remember my freaks telling me of the struggle you had trying to leave that small island I found you on.”

“I had lost a lot of blood.” You said as if you needed to give him any sort of explanation. As if you needed to keep talking to him. Turning away from this intense green-blue gaze, you went back to work on the cuffs.

“You know, I was rather upset you left without saying goodbye,” Buggy said in fake hurt. “You didn’t even get to see my grand finale.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” You said in equally mocking tones.

“I accept your--”

“Fuck off, Buggy. I should have beat your ass while I had the chance. I should have killed you and freed those poor people you terrorized.” Buggy pulled a smirk to his lips.

“Beat my ass? I seem to remember it was me who kicked your ass last time.” A scoffing huff spilled from your lips.

“We were ten years old--”

“Ten in a half.” Buggy quickly corrected like it truly mattered. You shot him a look that said as much.

“It doesn’t matter. I had no skill back then. No discipline. I would kill you now without ever batting an eye.” That smirk never once left Buggy’s lips, his eyes shining in utter amusement. Eyes that had your gut doing annoying and tiresome little twists.

“And collect what bounty? Our cheery new friends seem to think you’re nothing but a “no-good pirate” now.” Despite that shot of anger that flared in your chest, you pulled on your own smirking smile.

“It wouldn’t be for any bounty. It would be for my own amusement.”

“Peach, if you're trying to flirt with me, it's working.” He all but purred your way. You rolled your eyes and truly went back to unlocking your cuffs.

No more distractions. No more annoying banter with that clown pirate who grated on your nerves like no other. You couldn’t get caught. Not yet. Not before you got revenge for yourself. Revenge against those who had turned the world against you. “Peach--”

“You truly are horrible.” You snapped, unable to ignore the obvious rise Buggy was trying and successfully getting out of you.

“When I escape and free you,” Buggy started, only for you to cut him off with a scoff.

“You’re delusional.” Buggy rolled his eyes dramatically.

“When I escape and free you, you’ll have to repay me.”

“You aren’t freeing me. I can do that just fine on my own.” You snapped.

“Oh, I think I will.” You shot him a glare hoping he would shut up. He, of course, did no such thing. “And after I get us off this ship, I’m thinking you’ll be so overrun with emotion you’ll do something sweet for me.” You shook your head, shoving the bit of metal this way and that within the keyhole.

“I don’t find your games amusing. I actually find them quite boring.”

“Now you’re just being mean.” The sudden sound of rusting metal squeaking open pulled your attention away from your work and back onto Buggy. Your jaw all but fell open upon seeing Buggy sauntering out of his cell, his hand popping back onto his wrist, a ring of keys laying there.

You had watched those Marines. Hadn’t missed a single twitch or breath, so how had you missed Buggy grabbing those keys from around the holder's waist? How had you missed a flying, dismembered hand?

“How--” You watched him unlock your cell door in utter disbelief. Watched as he took the few steps across the way so he was standing in front of you. Watched with a fluttering, tingling belly as he knelt before you, that all too charming smile on his lips. You covered your strange feelings with that of familiar annoyance for him.

“Peach, I’m gonna let you out, but,” He said, sing-songingly elongating the last word. “I want you on my crew.” That was the last thing you thought you would hear from his lips. It was enough of a shock to squash any and all irritation you held in your chest for the clown.

You two had no like for the other. Every time you saw each other, it was either a fight or a backward attempt to mock and tease the other. You were the hunter and he was the hunted. Why would he ever want you to be near him in such a way?

You laughed in his face. Laughed wholeheartedly in your unbelieving at his words. Laughed so hard it shook your shoulders.

“You’re full of it. I despise pirates. I kill your kind for a living.” You snapped at him once you’re laughter subsided.

“Past living.” You’re disbelief quickly turns back into that of anger. “And you’re perfect.” His words caught you off guard once more. Had you all but freezing up, unable to conquer up your anger.

Perfect. No one had ever uttered such a thing to you.

It was…strange. You and him--it was all too strange.

“I collect outcasts, those thrown away by society. Those hurt and betrayed and left to die, bleeding out on some hopeless island.” You felt your eyes suddenly prick in the remainder of your inner wounds. Wounds created by those you had thought were your friends--family. Those who you had loved more than you had ever loved anything in this world.

Buggy saw all of this with those intent green-blue eyes. He saw this and he understood, despite your many differences. Because he had experienced it too. Had been hurt and left to rot by those he had cared about.

“My freaks--my crew--don’t turn their backs as easily. I don’t turn my back that easily.”

An actor--a performer. That’s all he was--all he ever would be…but damn if he wasn’t speaking to your soul. Wasn’t utterly pulling you into those green-blue eyes and that charming smile of his.

“I--” You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. You should tell him to fuck off. That you would rather stay here and let the Marines drag you off to some prison to be forgotten in. But…but you didn’t say that. Your traitorous heart didn’t let you. “I am no pirate.” You all but whispered. It was a confession rather than a biting hiss.

Buggy smiled, his gloved hand coming up to grab hold of your chin in a grip that was just tight enough to keep you from looking away from him. It was all too much. It felt all too--too right, having the roles switched. Being the frightened sparrow and he the smiling chester cat, ready to snap your neck between his sharp, smiling jaws.

“Oh, I know.” He whispered back as if it was a secret. “But I think you’ll like it. I think your cage door needs to be unlocked so you can fly free.” Before you could even open your mouth to try and pull together a rambling stream of words, the marine ship shook violently, the sound of cannon fire echoing down into the brig. That wickedly charming smile pulled onto Buggy’s lips. “Right on time.” He pulled his hand from your chin, the absence of his warmth leaving you annoyingly wishing for it back--wishing for more.

What a strange, strange predicament you were in. What strange, strange emotions. It was all too confusing. Too much.

Buggy dangled the keys in front of your face as the ship was attacked once more. “How about you think on it while I take care of this, peach.” He said, dropping the keys into your lap before standing to his full, towering height. “Though, don’t strain that pretty little head of yours too much.” And with that Buggy left the cold, dank brig.

You wasted no more time than you had, quickly unlocking the cuffs, which had been rubbing painfully against your skin, and heading in the direction Buggy had disappeared in.

The next few moments went by in a flash. You getting to the deck and finding Buggy’s freaks had boarded and were mowing down marine after marine, leaving no survivors in their wake. Buggy laughing insanely as he fulfilled the threat he had shot their captor's way. You finding where they had stored your weapons, as well as Buggy’s hat. You killing anyone who got in your way as you found yourself heading for the edge of the ship--found your body had a mind of its own as you jumped, landing on the deck of the circus-themed ship Buggy commanded.

This was your best and only escape route, you told yourself as you rushed around the ship, trying to find a place you could keep away from the rest of the world so you wouldn’t be found out. That place ended up being the large tent near the back of the ship, washed in shadow and thankfully empty.

You passed the time by looking around the large area, finding it was very similar to that of the tent Buggy had set up on land all those years ago.

Finding a pair of stairs, you winded up them, finding a singular chair sitting in the center of the raised platform. A throne, you realized. Buggy’s throne. You traced your fingers over the designs engraved in the wooden seat before sitting down, finding it would be the best place to wait out the fighting and think about your strange predicament.

“That's my seat.” Buggy’s gruffing voice sounded in your ear a little less than an hour later. It didn’t startle you, his sudden appearance. You had marked his footfalls when he thought he had been sneaking into the tent to do just that.

“Take it. It’s uncomfortable.” You murmured, pulling yourself from the throne which was, despite your words, rather comfortable. Buggy was much closer than you had originally thought, so close you had to tilt your head up just the slightest bit to look into those green-blue eyes of his. Eyes that never once moved away from your face as he flopped down on his throne, legs spread in some show of dominance.

“So, tell me peach, what is your answer?” You moved your eyes away from Buggy’s intense stare, looking over his hat which you had taken with you off that marine ship.

“Why free me?” You questioned, glancing back towards the pirate, whose eyes never seemed to have lifted from your form.

“Because I’ve been looking for someone to fill the role of knife thrower in my performance. You are good with a blade.” It was a lie. You could tell it was a lie. And it ate at you despite your utter dislike for this pirate. You took a step closer, those green-blue eyes watching your movements.

“That I am…but tell me something; what makes a pirate buy a drink for a bounty hunter?” You took another, calculated step that the clown marked. He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Why not? Getting you drunk seemed like a fun idea at the time.” He cracked a mischievous smile. “Still does.” You gave a small nod, pausing just before him. “You’re dancing around my question, peach. Maybe that's what I should make you.”

You leaned forward the slightest bit, his knees brushing against your legs, being as close to him as you were.

“You let me out of my chains. You dressed my wounds when you could have let me bleed out, and for those things, I owe you my life.” Buggy gave a small nod of his own.

“I feel a but coming.”

“But I can’t be free yet. Not when those who betrayed me are still breathing.” That smile of his stayed in place, but a seriousness you had never seen before filtered into his eyes. A seriousness that spoke of understanding. Of respect.

Strange--this was all so strange, things between you and him. Between hunter and the hunted.

“And then?” He questioned. You moved ever closer, you’re legs fitting between his in a strange sort of puzzle. Buggy watched and allowed you to gently tug his hat back onto his head, his breath tickling your lips.

You thought of the way his hand on your chin felt. How it had all but drove you crazy. How you had wished, no matter how absurd, to have it back there--to have more.

“Tell me why you saved me.” You spoke softly so that Buggy and Buggy alone could hear. “Why do you want me on your crew? Why, when you should have killed me--when you’ve wanted to kill me ever since we were young?” Buggy’s eyes fluttered down to your lips as they moved. A small action that had that buzzing in your body stirring alive once more.

“I think you know.” He spoke just as softly in that gruffing voice of his. A voice that had been bouncing around in your brain for longer than you liked to admit.

“I don’t think I do.” Buggy’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit like he was annoyed at your comment. An annoyance you wanted to drag out of him. You knew he didn’t want to admit it. Knew that he probably had never had to explain himself before. “Because I am still under the impression that I am the hunter ready to collect that sizable bounty on your head.”

“You think my bounty is sizable?” He smirked, continuing to dance around the topic.

“Enough to get me a ship that floats and an expensive bottle of wine.” You said in an attempt to get under his skin. You saw that flash of irritation in his eyes that made your own smirk pull to your lips.

“A ship you couldn’t even sail?” He teased, moving closer so that his lips were mere inches away from your own.

Your mind raced to wonder what they might feel like fitted against yours. How it might feel to have his hands running over your skin--to feel his skin.

It was all too strange, the things he was able to pull from you. Such strange feelings.

“You annoy me.” You jabbed his way, your eyes fluttered every so often to those red-painted lips of his.

If you kissed him, would your lips come away just as red?

“You’re eyes annoy me, your laugh, your voice.” Buggy looked as if he was trying to figure out if your words were supposed to be meant as an insult or some backwards complaint. You wondered this as well.

“And it annoys me that you understand. Say you understand.” You found yourself saying in a biting manner. The pirate looked over your face, seeming unsure of what to do next. Unsure of what to say even when you had just spelled it out for him.

His hand reached out and took hold of your chin in his solid grip. A grip that sent your stomach fluttering uncontrollably. “I understand.” Was all he said before he was pulling your lips flush against his own.

You hardly had control of yourself as you kissed him back in a frenzy, all sense of self-control and reason flying out the window. A kiss fueled by your strange, strange feelings for this clown. Feelings a mix of dislike, annoyance, understanding, and respect. Feelings you’d been harboring deep within yourself for a long, long time.

His kiss burned through you, had your hands grabbing at his jacket and all but ripping it from his body, feeling over his strong, exposed arms. His skin was warm and felt so nice against your own. Skin you wished to feel covering your whole body.

Buggy hands moved along your body, pulling you closer. His touch sent your skin on fire. A fire that hat engulfed your entire being, demanding to be satisfied.

Your hands moved downward, over his equally strong chest and abdomen until they found the edge of his pants, your fingers fumbling to undo his buttons. Buggy mimicked your actions, finding and unfastening the buttons there.

You pulled away from Buggy long enough to hasten along the process of shoving your pants over and off your legs. A process you had hardly finished before Buggy was grabbing you up once more, claiming your lips in a hot, needy kiss. A kiss that felt more like a fight for dominance. A fight the two of you never could seem to truly finish.

Buggy’s hands took fist fulls of your ass, guiding you up and onto the throne with him, your knees straddling either side of him. Reaching down between the two of you, your hand disappeared into Buggy’s pants, taking hold of is hardened cock and giving it a few good, teasing pumps. He gave a throaty groan that had that heat shoot through your core, making your pussy throb in just as much need as the rest of your body.

As quickly as you could, you pulled his cock free from the confines of his pants, hardly waiting before you were descending downward, a sweet little moan spilling from your lips.

Fuck it was good. It felt so good being connected this way. In a way that was slowly filling that yawning need within you. A need you had been holding at bay for a long time.

“F-fuck, peach.” Buggy moaned into your mouth, his hands moving to hold onto your hips in a near steel-like grip. A grip that guided you further down so that you were fully seated on top of him. “So fucking good.”

You moaned your own pleasure as you began to move up and down, slowly at first so that you might feel every last inch he had to offer. A pace that gradually quickened, finding that need within you all but commanding you to do so. Grabbing hold of one of Buggy’s hands, you guided his gloved fingers to find that small bundle of nerves that all but begged for his attention. Silently told him just how you liked it to be touched and, surprisingly, he was a quick learner.

It was good. Almost too good. Never would you have imagined this happening--you fucking this vastly annoying clown. The very clown you’d fought for years. But then again, this was just another sort of fight. A fight for dominance and submission. A fight you much rather preferred over that of brute force and stabbing words.

Buggy’s lips left yours only to latch onto the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting in a way that drove you crazy. That sent you quickly spiraling closer and closer over the edge.

“Oh god--Buggy, I’m--I’m…” His fingers kept circling your clit, bringing you all that much closer to your finish.

“Come for me, peach. F-fuck--you’re such a sweet little thing.” You moved your face so that you could press your lips against his once more, moan after moan vibrating through your throat.

So much--too much. It was all so good you’re legs began to turn to jelly. Began to give out under your own weight. Buggy seemed to understand this and pulled away from your clit only so he could grab you up in his strong arms. Arms that held you up as he fuck into you mercilessly.

You spiraled up and up and up until your pussy was clutching around his cock and pure bliss was shooting through you. Buggy’s name flew from your lips as you held onto him for dear life. The pirate gave a few last, grunting thrusts before he was spilling into you.

Buggy buried his face in your chest, his chest heaving up and down just as your own, both of you fighting to take in the thick air around you.

The tent was filled with nothing but the sound of your mixing breaths for a long moment. A moment you took the time to run your hands over any and all exposed skin Buggy had to offer. Warm skin that brought you such strange, strange comfort.

“And then?” Buggy asked, taking you by surprise. It was the same question he had asked you only moments ago. A question of what you would do after you had avenged yourself. You pressed your cheek against the side of his head, your lips brushing over his right ear.

“Then I will return,” You breathed, feeling Buggy’s body go just that much more still against yours. “And I will be free.”

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pinkandpurple360 · 5 months

Text

Rewriting the “I like tormenting you” scene because…yeah 🦢 💔🦉

Stolas, long angsty song number: In his gilded…jail….

Stella: The fuck are you doing?

Stolas: Reflecting.

Stella: Well stop it. It’s annoying to hear you screeching your angsty woes all the time, we’re trying to get some fucking sleep.

Stolas: Why are you still here? You leave with Via on the weekends but you still hang around the house. Why?

Stella, enraged: What, do you think I just like tormenting you or something?How dare you. Your palace has been my home for nineteen fucking years, MY jail for nineteen years. My life, WASTED as brood mare, trying to keep up this sham of a marriage all to appease you and your fucking father! All the while you cry about what a prisoner YOU are. I will not have you men throwing me from dollhouse to dollhouse according to your flimsy whims! You utterly spineless man!

Stolas, preparing to strike her: You watch your tone with me, Via isn’t here to see your hysterical outbursts and I’ve had enough of your screeching harpy nonsense—

Stella, holding her hand up as well to strike him back: MY harpy screeching?? My hysteria?? After what you did??

Stolas, holding his hands up in glee and laughing maliciously: I was tired of your petty insults, your cruelty. I’m delighted you and your arrogant foul friends bore witness to my triumph—

Stella, incredulous: Triumph is it? So all of that “there wasn’t time for a motel” crap was another of your lies? You are fucking sickening. The least you could have done was sleep with that imp outside of our fucking bed. Instead of forcing us all to see or hear the fallout of that disgusting ‘passionate fornication’ you call it. And yes, I do mean, ALL of us in the palace.

Stolas, confused and cowering: I—I don’t understand. What are you getting at with this?

Stella: The screeching, the moaning, the disgusting fucking snaps and slicing from the arsenal of weapons you used to fornicate for hours. Not even the loudest blast of her shitty plebeian music could have drowned out that racket!! (She screams to herself and throws a vase, shattering it behind them) You fucking embarrassment of a father! (Her voice cracks, she tears up mirroring his own expression) What have you done?! What was it all for??

Stolas, falling to his knees: No no…no no no…you’re just turning her against me. You’re lying!! You never gave a shit about me or our very much arranged marriage!! I…I got back at you. You never even tried to make it comfortable for us! It was all me! All for that girl!!

Stella: “That girl” has been nothing more than your toy to make you feel better about yourself. For you to try to re-parent YOURSELF through her. To make you feel like you haven’t made a mistake.

Stolas: Shut up!!

Stella: That girl, has been living our lie—your lie—since her birth! And I can’t do it anymore!!

Stolas: Enough!!

Stella: Were it not for my fucking anatomy, I would have filed divorce seconds after her egg fell out of me!! But you just had to have your little fantasy, your happy family. You always resented me for not sharing your theatrical displays, well fuck that. I’m not an actress and I won’t live a lie. We are getting the divorce! And you will compensate me for the years I’ve lost to you!! You will NOT take my home from me!

Stolas, weeping: No no…I don’t want that…you can’t make me…I don’t want it!! I don’t want that!! You bitch…you never once cared about me…not once…

Stella, is silent for a prolonged moment, face unseeen, she turns and a broken smile is on her face, she speaks in short sentences: Thats. That’s right. Fucking…pathetic man…you’ve finally met your match. And I know you’ll pay for it.

(She leaves, they are both deeply broken. Stella has a broken expression, she sees Via in the hallway and gasps, wipes her mascara trails away and puts on her ice queen persona): Via darling. Mummy and Daddy are just…playing a silly game. You know how we are. Don’t stay out in the cold. I’ll…run you a bath. (She reaches out to her)

Via, pain stricken after everything she’s heard, flinches away from her and runs off: I hate you…I hate both of you. I always KNEW this day was coming!!

Stolas, crumpled on the floor, stares into the sky: …It was for love…it was all for love…

#rewriting helluva boss #incorrect helluva boss quotes #stolas critical #helluva boss Stella

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quordleona03 · 10 months

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"Janet Wilkerson had a problem. As vice president of human resources for Peterson Farms Inc., she was having trouble filling the overnight shift at her chicken processing plants. The hours were long. The pay was low. And there never seemed to be enough workers."

"It was a slave camp."

“We felt like nobody had ever listened to us,” said one of the plaintiffs, Lucas Miller-Allen, when reached by phone today. “When all of our drug courts send us there, it’s like you don’t exist. It feels like you’re forgotten, like you’re thrown away. Like slavery. You’re dreading waking up each day, working for free, for nothing.”

But Janet Wilkerson was having trouble filling work shifts at her chicken processing planet, and she doesn't now. Judges in Oklahoma are still sending her men to work for free. The "rehab program" keeps their wages and workers-comp for injuries on the job.

The above stories are from 2017. OPINION AND ORDER by Judge Terence Kern ; dismissing/terminating case ; granting (Document 131) Motion to Dismiss for Lack of Jurisdiction U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Oklahoma / Copeland eta v. C.A.A.I.R et al

This is from 2022:

CAAIR, as it is commonly known, began more than a decade ago sending residents to work at Simmons Foods Inc., a processing giant that Walker touts as a principal partner and supplier to his distributorship, Renaissance Man Food Services. State judges assigned convicted offenders to CAAIR, giving them a choice between the residential program and its requirements or serving time in conventional jails or prisons. Simmons would then contract with CAAIR for labor at its plants; CAAIR program participants were not paid.

Herschel Walker, who was Donald Trump's preferred Republican candidate for the 2022 US Senate election in Georgia, appears to be one of those "Christian businessmen" who profits from the free labor provided by CAAIR.

#CAAIR #Janet Wilkerson #slave camp #modern slavery in the US #Renaissance Man Food Services #Peterson Farms Inc #Herschel Walker

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genderkoolaid · 1 year

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https://thenewinquiry.com/on-hating-men-and-becoming-one-anyway/

found this beautiful article written in 2019 which sums up so so much about transmisandry and the dilemma of trans men, where they’re grouped with the perpetrator class even though they’re equally vulnerable

OHHH kissing you this article is so fucking good. 100% gonna post some quotes from it. I love how this is written & its a really good explanation of how "trans-inclusive" radical feminism & radical feminist ideas fuck over transmascs in a unique & painful way. Like!!:

But trans men’s manhood is inseparable from our transness, and the relationship between trans men and cis womanhood can’t be accurately understood by separating trans status from gender in order to claim we’re oppressed by one but not the other. The day-to-day operations of gendered power in our lives make no such distinction, and while theories of intersectionality are often invoked to defend such claims, the idea that these “axes” can be neatly separated relies on the exact additive conception of oppressive power relations that intersectionality was invented to disprove. In the critique where she coined the term, Kimberlé Crenshaw argues that Black women are frequently excluded from antidiscrimination case law, feminist theory, and anti-racist politics precisely because their experiences cannot be reduced to the sum of racism and sexism. She references the case of DeGraffenreid v. General Motors, in which five Black women plaintiffs were denied consideration of their Title VII claims because the discrimination they experienced was particular to Black women rather than all Black people or women of all races. Because each form of discrimination was treated as a “discrete set of experiences” in this case rather than part of a multidimensional whole, “the boundaries of sex and race discrimination doctrine [were] defined respectively by white women’s and Black men’s experiences.” In reality, however, Black women relate to power differently from either group, and their experiences cannot be understood by combining the experiences of oppression each have. Similarly, trans men’s relationship to gender cannot be understood by adding the privilege of maleness to the oppression of transness; the interaction between these axes substantively transforms both such that it generates an experience qualitatively different from either alone.

He even discusses black trans men&mascs experience with gendered racism & how exorsexism play a part in this. Read this article.

(Although it is fun how he talks about Tumblr in the past tense, like its a ghosttown. My friend we are still doing "do trans men experience misogyny" discourse here lmao)

#also im thinking of making a new pinned post potentially w a reading list & if so #this is def going on it #m.#ask box #transandrophobia #transmisandry #anti transmasculinity #transunity

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year

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Scorpio Curse (König x F!OC)

Part 2/3 of Valkyrie

(Part 1 here)

Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.

Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff

Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters.

Part 2: Mostly König who is in desperate need of a hug (don't worry, he will get it soon enough :*)

A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi.

"You should've come to me, König."

He was still here.

No one had told him to leave his stuff and sign the papers and get the fuck out.

He had been called to see the team leader, though.

Immediately.

"It's true that we don't do that shit. Especially with the SpecGru, not after everything that already went through."

He told his side of the story, and apparently, the command agreed that Conor had made a mistake.

"Your superior officer slipped, but that doesn't mean you have the right to do whatever the fuck you deem more appropriate."

The leader's cheeks were red, and his voice traveled from peaceful, tired account to a booming loud yell.

"To tell you the truth, König, you're good at what you do. But pull this kind of shit again, and the KorTac will ensure you lose your rifle for good. They'll make sure you'll get spat in the face in every fucking PMC on this fucking planet, you hear me?"

He was surprised he didn't catch spit flying right now.

"Sir."

"Now go fix that goddamn fence."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

König, former weapons sergeant of the Jagdkommando and current operator of the special forces known as KorTac, felt like a fresh recruit when he turned heel and marched from the office. He thought about asking whether the surveillance tape would be destroyed or if it was already but sensed that this was not the best moment to ask questions. The leader's tired voice followed him as he walked away with cold sweat tingling down his back.

"Jesus. Where did you even get those bolt cutters.."

He worked half a day to get it right. Repairing the fence was easy, but fixing it so that it wasn't a weak spot in the area's defense was not. He had kneeled down in this exact same spot less than 24 hours ago, with a tense, silent cargo thrown on his back in a fireman's carry.

He had yanked the door to the surveillance room open to let the men know they could get a coffee break while he watched the prisoner — only to find that there was no one there. He had been played twice the fool, and she had paid the price. He wasn't man enough to tell her it had been all in vain when he went to get her.

He certainly wasn't going to tell her that he would still do it all again.

She stayed mute the whole journey to the fence, remained quiet even when he placed her gently on the ground and showed her the hole he had made on the chain link fence for her to crawl through.

"There you go, little Walküre."

She stared at his work for a while, sniffed, then looked up at him.

"You think you can fit through that?" He asked, although he had made sure the hole was big enough for even him to go through.

"Yeah…" she uttered her first words since forever before reaching for her road to freedom. Realizing she was still tied, she pivoted back.

"My hands.." she started, but he was already kneeling on the ground with his combat knife pulled out. With utter care, he cut her loose. She caught him after it was done, and he glanced at those tiny fingers that barely reached to close around his wrists.

"Thank you."

He raised his stare, and her eyes bored into his as she ensured her words had sunk in. Then she turned, dived for the hole… but turned back again.

"König."

He had enough time to discover that the naked pain in her eyes was of the exact same kind as the agony spreading in his heart before she leaped to him, threw her arms around him — and suddenly, he was home.

"Don't get yourself killed." Her voice was a muffled sob that hit his skin through the mask as she pressed her face against his neck and squeezed him with a surprising amount of strength. Dumbfounded, he raised his arms but wasn't sure if she would welcome the touch. He didn't want her to think he would seize her just when she had been offered a way out.

"Promise that you won't get killed."

He knew that he would probably get maimed for this. At the very least, he would lose his contract. But he hadn't even thought about it when he made that hole and carried her here.

She released him and pulled back. Her eyes were pure attention, a time-halting awareness that seized him without warning. It didn't matter that he was loaded with gear, that he had a helmet and a mask on. She could see him. All of him. And she smiled.

Then she reached for his mask.

He did nothing to stop her as she grabbed the hood and started to lift it. His vision went black with the ascending cloth for the longest second…

And then he could see again — see her wide eyes roam his face. The silence was pierced by a few raindrops, the first of an impending heavy rain. They landed on his helmet and on his arm guards, specked on her cheeks as they fell from the heavy clouds above them.

"Wow," she breathed, with parted lips and eyes that sparkled.

She grabbed his helmet through the cloth and pushed both the hood and the piece of metal away. The bundle landed somewhere next to him with a soft clunk a second before her lips pressed against his.

Rain fell, and with it, the paint from around his eyes — all the black he had surrounded himself with ran down his cheeks and neck, all the way under the collar of his shirt and over his heart that thumped like a maniac. They were in a warm August shower together, and she pulled him by his neck, threatened to swallow him, and he could do nothing but melt and surrender and answer with the same gentle hunger.

Her fingers swept across his chin; they caressed his temples, brushed his scalp, and tugged at his hair, not hindered by the fact that there wasn't much to grab hold of in the classic military undercut. They slid down his neck, grabbed his tactical vest, and pulled him deeper into the kiss. She sucked his lip, kissed the raindrops away, and he was hard as a rock even in the pants that were soaked and cool.

When she relented, all too soon, he would've given everything to freeze time and stay there. Under that hail, kneeled in that mud — with her, forever.

"I can't go through that fence unless you promise me," she panted in his mouth, and every single fiber in his body told him not to promise anything. He wanted to grab her instead, take her back, tuck her somewhere safe, and keep her as his own.

"Ok," he whispered.

A gush of hot air landed on his face as she gave a short laugh.

"Ok what?" She smiled against his mouth, her teeth colliding with his lips.

"I… promise."

"'Atta boy," he felt the words before he heard them, and she kissed him once more, and he could've drowned in that kiss. In those words.

"I'll never forget this," she said, lips wet with all that rain, eyes blinking through the drops that slithered down her face and got caught in her lashes.

I'll never forget you.

"No problem."

"No problem…? God. Could you get any more charming?"

She thought he was charming…

"Just one more thing, hero."

She bit her lip, looked down on the soaked grass, then up at him, and smiled.

“What’s with the hood? I really don’t get it. You look super nice.” She winked an eye at him. And then she turned and crawled through that hole and vanished into the darkness.

He was left alone in the descending rain, and there he had remained ever since.

He was convinced he still had her scent on him. He never washed that shirt he had been wearing the day he lifted her in his lap. He tried to catch her from it, and for a few days, he thought he actually did. But then that scent became only a memory.

Nevertheless, it followed him everywhere. No one knew that he was encompassed by it. That he was shrouded with her as he walked the base or rose on the plane.

Days passed by, and he still felt her lips on his own. Her taste in his mouth. Felt her legs around him, her soft walls surrounding him.

He replayed the frenzied vision over and over again in his head to remind himself that he had truly been inside her. That he had made her produce all those sounds. Made her clench around him and smell like honeydew and summers by the lake. He realized that he had started to truly live only after he had opened the door to that bleak room full of her. And then his life froze like a movie that was pressed on an eternal pause as he saw the soles of her boots push against the muddy ground to get her through that fence and away from him.

Three weeks passed — three weeks without her.

He did his job, went on missions, and executed orders to the letter.

But mostly, he was in his thoughts.

Mostly, he thought of her.

He thought of her when he had a rifle in his hand during ops. He thought of her during briefings, when he did deadlifts, racked a barbell after bench press, or sparred with training knives.

He thought of her in showers, in the mess hall, and most of all, in bed at night when he stroked himself to a release that eased his sleep.

He had never been so virile, not even as a teen. His libido was off the roof as the only thing he could think about was how he could get to jerk himself off in the shower stall or in his bunk after the day was done. Thoughts of her were his reward, the only thing that seemed to sustain him.

She was the most radiant thing in his life: everything else had faded away, turned to gray and black. Monotone, lifeless, empty. The pain faded for a while every time he came into his fist. Then it hit him with an even more crippling force as he realized that she wasn't real; she wasn't here.

Still, he fantasized what it would be like to hold her after, how they would drift off to sleep together. He envisioned her skin, her scent, her hair. The top of her head against his chin, her little hands around his neck, her laugh, all of it.

Sometimes when he had a hard day, he fantasized how her body would press softly against his back, and she would slide an arm around him, and it would disappear beneath his shirt. Her palm would come and rest right where his heart was, and she would just hold him.

On the worst days, he cried. He thought of the bullies and what they would say and how they would laugh if they saw him now, curled up in the soiled sheets with a cock in his hand, falling asleep on a tear-soaked pillow.

After a few months, he started to dissolve.

He got reckless on the field — jumped out of the helo before it had even landed properly, was all sloppy with his cover, wasted bullets, and revealed his position for the sake of getting up close and personal, for having the satisfaction of killing his opponents with a knife or with his bare hands.

People complained. Hutch complained, Fender complained — even Zero complained.

Some said it was just good old König, that he didn't care. Medics said he had a guardian angel with him when he never got hit, got barely even scratched when at the same time, some of the best operators were severely injured.

And some saw right through it.

"He fell in love with that sniper bitch. That's what's wrong with 'im," Conor had said.

He had nearly attacked the man for what he said — what he had called her. His angel.

But he knew that's what Conor wanted: to taunt him into making a mistake that would result in his dismissal from the force. Would probably destroy his chances to continue a career anywhere in the military. And then he would quickly find himself in civilian life, where he had never quite fit into.

"Promise me you won't get killed."

He had promised her to stay alive, and he couldn't disappoint her. So it became a prayer. Every night he made an offering to her, so she would keep him safe. No bullet could touch him. He knew that somehow she could feel his longing, the love he had for her. She would protect her like the war maiden that she was. And even if he caught that bullet, he knew it would only take him to heaven. She had already carried him there.

Six months without her, and people started to fear him.

His teammates looked at him with dread as he geared up for missions with the secret knowledge that he was practically immortal. The team leader said he resembled a machine, and he took it as a compliment. Even Lieutenant kept his mouth shut and looked at him with something akin to respect.

But he got even more time off when he wanted the exact opposite. He was pretty sure that there was a note in his file now. Right after the screaming red words released a prisoner without the requisite order from a superior officer. A comment that said he was behaving wrong, that he was unstable or something. They offered him cognitive therapy, sleeping pills, meditation groups, ice baths, even acupuncture. He turned it all down, knowing that it was no use.

And so they sent him home more and more often.

It was even worse there. He never wanted the leaves, but KorTac was firm in their protocol. Contract soldiers needed time off duty to prevent "substantial impairment concerning the operator's ability to work." Even if he wanted to, he couldn't stay in the barracks and get every mission he could get his hands on.

He sat in his apartment, slept late, went for a swim, went to the gym, and came back to sit and sleep. He thought of her when he walked the streets with a hole in his chest, a hole as deep as the Mariana Trench. He saw her in all the women of the same height and weight as her. At some point, he realized he had never paid so much attention to women as he did now.

"Go get a pint and a girl, König. Just get it out of your head."

Zero meant well, but he could've punched him too for saying that.

He didn't want a girl; he wanted her.

Pint sounded good, though. He had visited the nearest pub only a few times before, but the place had only reminded him that he was not home and that pubs were different from bierstubes. But right now, he didn't want to go back to that cold, dark flat to stare at the ceiling and wait till sleep would come.

He pushed the door open and stomped his feet on the mat even though it didn't rain outside. He walked further into the dimly lit hall and saw that early evening wasn't the busiest time in this place: more than half of the tables were empty.

And then he looked for the counter and saw her.

His Kriegsmädchen was there.

His Walküre was here.

She was here and looked just the way he remembered her — no, even more luminous. Glowing.

Perhaps he had finally lost it. But he kept looking, blinking, and saw her fingertips curl around a glass, saw the hair she had tied into a high ponytail, the smile that spread across her face just before she laughed.

The angelic sound went straight between his legs and stabbed a hole in his gut, and he was bleeding — months and months of pain, right there in the hallway of a quiet pub.

She was alive and safe, laughing, and so lovely that his hands started to tremble just as they had when his bullies approached him back in school. It was odd because she was everything but. He took a step, heart thumping and palms sweating, like he was approaching an enemy he knew he had to finish with his bare hands.

He walked to the counter in the eye of a storm, and she evaded his gaze and tried to act like she didn't even notice that some man was striding toward her.

Did men approach her often?

Of course they did. And she tried to look like an immovable stone, a prey that wouldn't draw attention.

"Walküre?"

And only then did she turn her gaze, eyes filled with both fear and hope.

Her mouth opened, and she drew a sharp breath, shoulders tense. He had to fight tooth and nail to not grab her and press her against that counter or kiss her, devour her while he carried her off out that door...

"... Valkyrie?" Her friend repeated sarcastically, with a birth of a laugh on her lips, staring at him like he was a circus attraction. He didn't spare even a glance her way.

Couldn't, because he was mesmerized by the most soothing gaze in the world.

"Hi," she breathed, voice almost breaking.

His eyes went straight to her lips as she said it, the sound far too similar in his mind to the breaths that had escaped her in that dull, grey room.

She cleared her throat and swallowed.

"Kate, this is… Siegfried. A friend from my old job."

He knew he should move, look to the side, and say hello. Act normal. But he couldn't move, couldn't even blink.

She pursed her lips and looked down at her drink, at her friend, and then back up at him.

"Nice to meet you," her friend spoke, and he finally managed to turn his eyes toward her and nod slowly.

“You must be the battering ram.” She took a sip of her drink with a flash of eyebrows.

He heard a sharp inhale from beside him and only wanted to ignore everything and everyone else in the room except for the one who gasped like that.

“You know, the one they send to charge through doors?”

“Done that too.”

The friend called Kate's eyes widened from the stare he knew made most people uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?"

His angel spoke, and he turned. She was looking even more beautiful with flushed cheeks. It was strange to see her like this: sitting gracefully on that bar stool, wearing jeans and a bit of mascara. She wasn't covered in dirt and sleepless nights and fear, and he realized that he never wanted to see her like that again. He wanted her safe and sound, and happy; even if she had come on this earth to fight, just like he, even if she was deadly with a rifle. Even if she was a more able-bodied sniper than he ever could be.

"To get a lager."

"No, I mean," she laughed, sending warmth between his legs, "Why are you here, here?"

After a blink or two, he realized she meant the town.

"I'm on leave. I live here."

"Oh." She bit her lip. "Kate, um. Would you… Would you mind if we catch up a bit?"

He saw from the corner of his eye that the woman looked him up and down, and then a smile started to creep up her face.

"You know what June, I think I'm gonna head home. You two catch up for as long as you need and I'll see ya later, ok?"

Her name was June.

Like midsummer fests and seagulls and Radler.

Honey and raindrops…

"I'll go grab a table," he declared, thinking how odd that sounded, thinking whether his English was somehow off. As if he was going to physically grab a table and raise it in the air...

Kate chuckled behind his back as he turned and headed for a darker, more private corner.

"Jesus Christ, June… I knew you did some special commando shit, but that guy is -"

"Will you keep your voice down?"

"I mean… If you catch up all night, I doubt you'll be able to walk tomorrow."

"Kate…! "

The rest of the exchange of words faded as he reached the table and adjusted the chairs to be able to sit down.

Then he noticed that he was still wearing his jacket and got up to take it off. He saw her coming with her drink in hand, and she flashed a smile at him as he threw the leather bomber across the chair next to him.

"Nice jacket."

He looked down at the dark brown leather, worn and looking mostly what people called vintage or something.

"You gonna go get that beer, sweetie?"

Sweetie.

"Ja," he nodded, turned, and marched back to the counter.

He ordered a beer, then asked what the lady over there was having.

"I think she, ah… ordered a mojito." The bartender extended his neck to the side to glance at their table. "Yeah, that's a mojito."

"One of those as well."

The man gave him a look that distinctly said You really think you're gonna get some of that? He didn't know what it was in his aura that told people he was a loser. Or a menace. And he didn't know which of those looks made the pain worse. But all of it faded instantly as she greeted him with a shy smile when he returned to the table with the drinks.

"Oh, you shouldn't have… I haven't even finished this one." She raised those lovely eyes at him, smiling, smiling… "Thank you, König."

Her fingertips brushed his as he gave it to her, the glass sweating with tiny cold drops of condensed water. She had pale pink, almost nude nail polish that made her nails look shiny and pure, her hands even more delicate. She watched as he scoured through the chairs to take a seat, pick a coaster and place his own glass on the table.

"A big one."

She then turned those playful faerie eyes on him, and he was suddenly grateful that he had picked the loose, black cargo pants to wear today… and that he was sitting.

"This is considered a small beer where I come from."

"I'm sure it is," she chuckled. The tight, white t-shirt she wore reminded him of the first time he had seen her, even though it was not one of those heavy cotton, military shirts. He grabbed the beer to do something, anything, and raised it to his lips, almost pouring the liquid all over him when he took a sip. She watched him gulp and smiled even wider. He was half hard at that point and had to spread his legs to accommodate and conceal what was happening in his pants and under the table.

"What about you, Walküre? What are you doing here?"

"I'm helping a friend -uh, Kate. She had an awful breakup."

He nodded and kept picking up his beer, drinking a small sip and trying to hit the center of the coaster as he set the glass back down.

"You're not with SpecGru anymore?"

"I signed off one week after… After. You know."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, even though he wasn't sorry at all. At least, not for the fact that she was out of harm's way.

"Nah, don't be. It was for the best. I'm able to sleep at night and everything."

She had trouble sleeping? Maybe that's why she looked even more radiant than before. She had slept well.

"I was worried about you."

"Really?" she tilted her head to the side, and her eyes started to shine even brighter.

"... that you might not find your way home."

"I'm a big girl. Trained with the Green Berets and everything.. But it warms my heart to hear that. I worried about you, too."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Sure, I mean… I was afraid you'd get into some trouble because of me."

Someone laughed at the next table, but the unexpected sound reached him through a comfortable haze; like he was sitting underwater. The battlefield wasn't nearly as distressing an environment as this peaceful pub - or any other place he rarely visited. But this time, with her, it was not too bad. His senses were blown wide, but he wasn't afraid.

"Also ja… They did yell at me."

"That's horrible. I could never yell at you."

He felt himself nearly choke on the beer, tried to breathe through his nose, and forced the liquid down with an audible gulp.

"You kept your promise," she said in a low voice, her smile fading slightly. Her eyes locked with his, and he basked in the warmth.

"Natürlich."

I prayed for you every single night, Kriegsmädchen.

She gave him a small, sad smile and looked down, swirling her ice-filled glass.

"You know I…" she started, took a breath, then another. "I've missed you, König."

He squeezed the tall glass before realizing that it might actually break at some point.

"I've missed you too, Walküre."

He looked at his beer, still halfway full, and then at the completely untouched drink he had brought her.

"You want to go to my place?"

Part 3:

#könig fanfiction #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty #könig imagine #my fics #könig x oc #könig #könig x female oc

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 10 months

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book 7 part 4 thoughts!!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7, PART 4 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***

Usually I would put this in bullet points, but I have so many thoughts that I have to format it as paragraphs. (If you’d like to watch a rough part-by-part summarized translation, please check out this archived stream!)

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

LILIA'S SO DIFFERENT 🤡 His voice is deeper, and he speaks more gruffly. He definitely comes off as more combative and having disdain for humans. HE'S POPPING OFF ABOUT HOW BAD SILVER/SEBEK/GRIM ARE AT MAGIC??? Damn, what happened in the following years to make him change????

The contrast between current Lilia telling Silver "there's nothing left for me to teach you" and past Lilia being like, "there's nothing for me to teach you, are you trying to make fun of me?"

The human faction they're fighting at the moment are the Silver Owls!! There are also people who dress in iron (a metal which harms fae in irl mythology), I'm not sure if they are synonymous with the Silver Owls or not.

IHBFIOASBFIAADSI LORD, THE FAE SOLDIERS ARE ALL MIDDLE SCHOOL NEKO GIRLS HISSING AT US

AYO, SEBEK GRANDPA REVEAL????? ??? ? ? ????? BAL/BAAL/BAUL REAL, I CAN SEE WHERE SEBEK GETS HIS LOOKS AND HIS PERSONALITY FROM

Silver's asking to team up with Lilia and his group (Lilia was about to just leave them there because he's concerned with the Silver Owls setting up camp at the base of the mountain)? Bruh, book 1 we're calming down an angry classmate and book 7 is like, HEY KIDS LET'S TAKE A FIELD TRIP INTO AN ACTIVE WAR ZONE.

Silver's hoping to shock him awake via a fight, here comes a Sebek and Silver tag team battle!! RIP Lilia beats them up a little :v (Sebek. Don't fanboy over his strength, WE ARE FIGHTING FOR OUR LIVES HERE)

Oop, they disorient him with light and Lilia's mask off!! It's treated like a big reveal????? Sorry, but how does Yuu not notice this is Lilia automatically 😅

Lilia voice) you are not my son (and here you can hear Silver's heart breaking/j)

Oh boy, we get to be prisoners of war/j

NOT LILIA ASKING SILVER AND SEBEK HOW THEY KNOW HOW TO FIGHT SO WELL WHEN IT WAS LILIA WHO TRAINED THEM TO BEGIN WITH

"Fae don't go back on their word" AH SO THEY LIKE TO KEEP PROMISES EH

"May the night bless you" seems to be some kind of salute for nocturnal fae?

LOL Lilia's against being called a father OTL THE IRONY HERE IS SO STRONG

Not Sebek's grandpa telling them off for not showing Lilia respect and saying how great he is... Fanboy genes run in the family/j

DOES YUU STILL THINK THIS IS A PERIOD DRAMA OR SOMETHING

BAAL IS CALLING SEBEK A HUMAN KEK

BAL/BAAL/BAUL REAL DROPS THE CROC MASK???? ?? ?? ?? ? He's got SCALES instead of facial hair???? ???? ? ? Oh man, he reminds me so much of Seteth FE3H OTL The scales are a signature trait of the Zigvolt line! Sebek says his mom has the same scales.

NO NOT SEBEK HAVING TO CONFESS THAT HIS DAD BEING HUMAN, IS THIS THE START OF HIS CHARACTER ARC

LILIA TOLD BAAL TO BABYSIT US...

AW Sebek's so excited about seeing his grandpa in his prime... I'm happy seeing Sebek happy OTL

Lilia's dreaming about the past... I wonder if it's because he was thinking about his life and what he has achieved before leaving his loved ones with his legacy...

Lilia first got the invite to NRC 500 years ago??? So NRC has been around much longer than we expected.

Ahhhh, crap 🤡 The return of book 6 limited battles but now with a battle map. There is a new mechanic where HP carries over from each battle; if a card's HP gets knocked to 0, you cannot use them. (5 cards be restored at random if you get to a heart space on the battle map.)

SEBEK'S ACTING AS OUR OLD FAE SPEECH TRANSLATOR (He's throwing his own angry commentary in, which is hilarious)

The humans arrived on a boat ~100 years ago. Now they have a settlement in the east and are mining around Briar Valley + taking the fae's natural resources. (I think this is why Mystium, that shape-shifting magic green ore that Lilia's weapon is made of, is no longer as plentiful; it was likely mined into obscurity.)

Magical creatures are now coming down from the mountain and causing trouble in Briar villages; the fairies cannot handle all of this. Damn, this is just the plot to the first Shrek movie 😂 They're invading Shrek's swamp--

Oh, interesting! So there are different kinds of fae language (depending on the type of fae they are; think of the diurnal fae from Fairy Gala speaking in bell tinkles), but they infuse their voices with magic so they can understand one another. In modern Briar Valley, there is a common tongue. Omg, Sebek speaks it with his mom and grandma! BILINGUAL KING, HE'S SO PROUD OF HIMSELF... Silver tried to learn from Lilia, but he struggled with it; Sebek's dad had the same issue so the problem must be that human ears cannot pick up on the same range of sounds as fae ears can. This is true of real life as well; different creatures have different auditory thresholds and auditory detection ranges.

Bruh, not Lilia sending out literal children to fight for him on the battlefield...

Eh, new character named??? Some human soldiers are talking about Henrich?? Henrik??? Henric??? He's a commander of the Silver Owls who is conceited and dumps his work onto his subordinates. Errrr he apparently also has a little sister named Leia? Lea??? Leah???? Who is rumored to be in a relationship with someone called the Dawn Knight.

More interesting lore????? Kind of???? Some pixies (small fae) come and warn Lilia about something up ahead, then heal them too. This is notable since in Fairy Gala: What If, we learn that diurnal fae (which I believe pixies are) and nocturnal fae (which Lilia and Sebek appear to be) do not like each other. It seems they got along well enough in the past to confront a common enemy?

They reach a Silver Owl camp!! ... Aaand Lilia tells his soldiers to boot them out so they can take over the camp. I mean, it IS technically the fae's land to begin with, so. Uhhhh, yeah I think I'm with Lilia on this one 💦

I don't think iron affects fae negatively in Twisted Wonderland?? Lilia and co. are having no trouble fighting them even when the humans are clad in iron armor.

HMMMM they've named dropped a formidable person on the human side called the Dawn Knight (Lilia mentions them once, then the human soldiers do). The Dawn Knight is the captain of the Silver Owls and even Lilia considers them a strong opponent. Methinks they'll become a key player later...

OH NOOOO 😭 Sebek’s like, “let’s change this fate!!” but since it’s just a dream, reality won’t be altered at all… Then Sebek suggests just. Staying in the dream???? Which makes darkness spawn… The light from Silver’s ring thing (the trinket he got from Lilia as a sign that he is now a full fledged adult) protects them???

Silver fears the dream will tempt him to stay too 😭 He asks Yuu to snap him “awake” if it ever comes to that… Silver, sweet boy… OTL

NOT SILVER AND SEBEK JUMPING IN TO STOP LILIA FROM COOKING FOR THEM (Come to think of it, how have Lilia's soldiers survive this far with him cooking for them???? ?? ??? ?? ?? )

LILIA THINKING THEY'RE GOING TO POISON THEM, THAT'S SO JAMIL ENERGY

Omg... They're acknowledging their Master Chef training (this is the only time they've referenced events in the main story, if I recall correctly)... Silver even prepares a risotto for them all~ (His own favorite food is mushroom risotto, so I like to think of it as he's sharing a piece of himself with the fae.)

asldiuhaodasidba Lilia complaining about the tiny portions in fine dining...

SEBEK PREPARING A ROAST CHICKEN FOR THEM, they're going all out for this one meal??? ? ? ??? ? ?? Poor Sebek though 😭Baal refuses to eat anything Sebek made, he'd rather starve or eat rations than a human's cooking...

AW BAAL BOUGHT SEBEK BOOKS????? And encouraged his love for reading... 😭

Grim taking Baal's portion of food... (Of course... Did we really have any doubts about that?) Sebek really did get his attitude from Baal... Now Baal's going, "Gimme my food back!" after Grim started digging into it... And then Baal has three entire helpings of risotto... THEY HAVE THE SAME INTIMIDATING-YET-ALSO-PATHETIC VIBES

AYO SILHOUETTE FOR MALLEUS'S MOM????? Her name is (Princess) Mallenoa, the only daughter of Maleficia (Malleus's grandma). She lives at a separate palace and commands the military. Lilia also describes her as being extremely powerful, fickle, stubborn, selfish, and easy to anger. He's just tossing out allllllll the adjectives ahdbayodqdq

Ah, so it sounds like humans greatly outnumber the fae??? So they're at a disadvantage. Normally a royal would handle diplomatic stuff like this but for some reason Lilia is being sent? They're traveling on foot to deliver a message to the human encampment to the east; the last messenger (that travelled there via magic?) did not return. Ominous...

Fae nobility are repulsed by the smell of iron? I'm confused, are fae in TWST impacted by iron or not????

Aww, Silver... He's asking his dad to come to school not to learn, but to make special memories there 🥺 Back to "our Night Raven College"...

NOOO NOW THEY'RE FLASHING THROUGH ALL THE DORMS... while Silver and Sebek monologue about how everyone at NRC is very different, but despite how weird they all are, there is a lot that can be learned from their differences. Silver's spreading what he learned from his dad... and the fact that even Sebek pitched in... 😭

Lilia voice) let's make these high school students our pack mules and unpaid chefs and if they fuck up we leave them for dead in these woods where there are monsters lurking about

Man, he's so ruthless????? Lilia will use anyone he can to succeed in his mission... But then the next second he lays into his princess with a smile www

Lilia knew the princess since they were kids ~300 years ago, which puts the current conflict at ~400 years ago from modern day (since present Lilia is ~700 years old).

asdjbasbldbasdi Gotta love the lowkey jabs at classic fairy tales... Lilia says that human princesses may need protecting but not theirs???? (Yet Mallenoa still stays in her castle all day like she's waiting for a prince.)

THE PRINCESS HAS AN EGG... MALLEUS????? IS THAT YOU???? ???? ????? ? ?? ? ? (LOL at Sebek calling it Tamago-sama asghdyqovywqdwp9qbpacpasb) JAHAJAAH BAAL SUS OF THEM BEING INTERESTED IN THE EGG????

Oooh, so dragon eggs only hatch after receiving enough love and magic from the parents??? (Otherwise the egg will not mature and hatch.) The "power of love" is real, you guys 🥺

ANOTHER new character name drop?????? Levan/Revan??? It's a fae that went missing (probably the messenger from earlier??) I-Is that. Is that Malleus's dad???????? (Lilia says that both the princess and Levan/Revan have been pushing their tasks onto him; he has known them both for a long ass time.)

Baal voice) I still don't trust you

Fandom, back at Baal: Sorry (grand)daddy. Sorry. (Grand)daddy? Sorry. (Grand)daddy? Sorry.

Malleus is 178 years old in current day even though his egg existed 400 years ago, so it seems there was a few hundred years of delay before he actually hatched (normally the egg would hatch in 2-3 years). That means Lilia was ~522 when Malleus hatched and ~683 when he found Silver as a newborn (Malleus was ~161). Silver and Sebek think it’s weird that the timeline does not add up; it means Malleus was dormant for quite a while?? Or is the dream world wonky to accommodate for a “happy ending”? Or maybe the history they know is not correct (since earlier in book 7 Lilia mentions how true history can be distorted over time.)

Very sus, apparently there is not a lot known about Briar Valley's history??? Lilia never talked about the past around Silver, and Baal did the same with Sebek. None of the books Sebek read really goes into that history either. In current day, the palace where Malleus's mom resided isn't even there anymore, it's just land. It suddenly became a mystery...

MAN, I've been wondering this whole time why Lilia's happy ending is wartime but maybe. This is the period where Malleus's parents both died???? Maybe his happy ending is saving them??? Instead of them dying and him having to live with the guilt of not being there to protect his friends and his future prince's parents???? (I previously thought it was during war that Malleus hatched and/or Lilia found Silver, but I guess the timeline doesn't make sense there.)

According to Silver, they cannot stray too far from dreamers or else the darkness will return and try to drag them into a deeper sleep.

asdhbasdobasdbas Sebek is SUPER hype to see baby Tamago-sama Malleus...

Sebek points out that Silver is not nodding off (good catch, I actually did not notice this because I was too busy screaming about the lore); sooo when Silver is dream walking, he's consistently alert. It looks like Silver's narcolepsy is an important detail??? (Lilia took him to lots of doctors that didn't know how to help him, Silver does whatever he can to sleep well and to have a sleep schedule.)

OH MY GOD, I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT YUU AND GRIM STILL DIDN'T KNOW LILIA IS SILVER'S DAD. They thought it was a friendly nickname this entire time??? Kind of late to get to that, but alright 😅 We have acquired the Forbidden Knowledge... (SEBEK'S MOM IS WAY OLDER THAN HIS DAD BUT LOOKS WAY YOUNGER?? I mean, I kind of expected that but to have it confirmed just hits different.)

One of the soldiers tells the kids to stfu so they can sleep and so Sebek yells at everyone to stop disturbing them (you know, in his LOUD AS HECK voice).

Water in the Briar Country is cold because it is located up north (it snows a lot!). The lake water usually comes from melted snow. Checks out, I guess?

They're packing up to leave the camp... Reminds me of Mulan!

[Insert boring trek to the Silver Owls' base. Interesting tidbit: some soldiers we run into comment that Silver resembles the Dawn Knight/they didn't know the Dawn Knight had a lover?????? So... that's obviously gotta be an ancestor of Silver's, right??? Also??? The Dawn Knight apparently never removes their helmet, even around subordinates... VERY SUS, SIR

NAYUUURx NOT SeBEK CAViNG TO THE DATKNESS 😭 I feel like??? This is a really big character development moment for him?? He’s always been pretty blindly loyal to Malleus and hateful of humans, but this marks the first time he willingly does something against Malleus’s will and he calls Yuu and Grim by name… Sebek, sweetie… 😭 (Side note: Silver’s been so strong-willed through all of this, but I’m glad that TWST showed he isn’t perfect and infallible; he, too, was tempted to stay in the dream when Sebek started to consider it too.)

bchsheoxndle Something else I enjoy is Baul being so… tsun?? He complains about the kids but keeps an eye out for them anyway (and Sebek in particular)… The paternal vibes are too immaculate to completely squash 😎]

They made it!! Finally!!

UHHHHH THEY'RE FIGHTING A BIG MACHINE AND. LILIA INSTINCTIVELY BLOCKS SILVER?? (He’ll be fine, he’s in his prime 😌)

Oop, Heinrich and the Dawn Knight were supposed to be in the eastern base but they aren't??? Oh no, it looks like. It was a diversion?????? While Lilia and co. are busy at the base, Heinrich launched an attack on the palace where Malleus's mom is???????

AND OF CORUSE THAT'S WHERE WE CUT OFF?????????? BRUH.

OKAY, so this entire update was focused just on Lilia's dream. We have no clue what's happening in Idia's dream or the real world with Ortho??? Which I'm totally fine with; I feel like we learned SO much about Briar Valley's history and important figures in it. That's a very fair trade-off. I loved getting to learn about the conflict between humans and fae, fae culture, and about how Briar Valley (or Country) works. I'm surprised that the characters themselves know so little about the history, but that just makes me worried that that's because it's a dark part of history that was purposefully censored from the textbooks...

There were a lot of new characters introduced in this part, most of them just mentioned by name or silhouette. It really feels like we walked right into the most dire part of a history textbook... So much tragedy has been set up, so many key players put into place... But being that this is Lilia's promised happy ending, surely he must reverse fate and save the day in the end????? Right? Right??? ?????? ?? ??? ? ? ? ? ? ?????? I have my eyes glued to the Draconia family lore and history, I'm READY to absorb it!

Something else I found really fascinating was learning more about Sebek this update! He still has a very arrogant attitude about him (that much hasn't changed), but I loved seeing how he acts different around his grandfather and how excited he gets over little things like seeing Malleus's egg. I think this part also marks the start to his character arc; he is constantly put down time and time again by his grandpa, someone whom he really loves. Sebek is used to his grandpa accepting him for who he is, but now his grandpa is shouting hateful rhetoric and discriminating against him for being half human. It's the same ugly behavior that Sebek slings to other people, but now the shoe's on the other foot and HE'S the victim in these situations. It must no doubt be extremely uncomfortable for Sebek, but it's also forcing him into a situation where he has to look at his own bigotry head-on, and it gives him a chance to reevaluate himself. It's similar to how Vil had to challenge Epel's outdated gender views even when Epel kicked up a fuss every time Vil did. asdhbsaisdbabdil I'm just really invested in Sebek's character arc!!

I think there's a high probability we'll see all of the silhouetted figures in full in a future update, it's clear that we'll eventually be rushing back to check on Malleus's mom at some point. I'm super interested in seeing how Malleus's parents, the Dawn Knight, Lilia, Baal, and Henrik tie together. (And, of course, we NEED to check in with the Shrouds as well.)

I have heard people say that Henrik may be a reference to King Henry from the live action Maleficent? Then that means that the Dawn Knight may be TWST's equivalent to Stefan/Stephan (Aurora's dad) and Henrik/Henric's little sister is Leah/Leia (Aurora's mom)??? Then I've heard other theories that since Malleus's dad vanished, we have no corpse to confirm he is for real dead and maybe he's actually Crowley who went off to buy some milk and never came back???? (Because “Levan” sounds like “raven” and you know who else is a black bird? CROWLEY. Is he. Is he really going to be the Ultimate Absentee Dad by pulling off his mask in front of Malleus and go, “Luke, I am your father” at him????) And then there's those of us who are drooling over new character designs and screaming about how hot Sebek's grandpappy is. Point is, there are so many wild parallels, theories, ideas, and thirst posts flying around right now. I love how this wild update reinvigorated the whole fandom into a new period of theory crafting and other creative works. asdhabsdasdbasdi Every new book 7 update gets more and more hype... I just hope we get part 5 in July!!! Super intrigued by the history of the Briar Valley~

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siredtoyourlips · 8 months

Text

The Honeymoon Never ends D.DxF!r

Summery~ When Daryl walks in on the reader practically naked he can't keep his hands off his wife. ( Read the Warnings before you read)

1.1k words

Warnings~ Smut, sweet!Daryl, horny!Dayrl, husband!Dayrl, p-in-v, brief fingering, breading kink, talk of children, kissing, teasing, praise, hint at degradation, dirty talk, reader calls Daryl Daddy, swearing, Daryl is lowkey possessive, love making, sweet sex, pet names, Dayrl being cocky, Daryl being a thigh man, hickies, aftercare, age gap, reader is in her 20's and Dayrl is in his 40's.

PSA~ I hate reading my work so it's probably not the best🫥

I found this group, there were all kinds of different people. Some were nice and some were not. I met this lovely woman named Carol, she had the most beautiful daughter and most cruel husband. Then Carl and Lori and Rick, who was a cop and his best friend Shane.

Before everything I was no one, I was a girl who didn't know where my life was going and honestly didn't care. I was quiet and shy and never did anything. I never dared to. Then the apocalypse happened and suddenly everything came at me all at once. my first encounter with a walker was in my kitchen in the middle of the night. I froze and almost died right then and there. Could have gone better.

Then there was him Dayrl, He was mean, and rough and cruel but over time he warmed up to some people like Rick who took care of those of us who were left. And Carol who was basically his best friend and mine. And then there was me, He became so nice and sweet to me. One day while we were living in a prison and we were all really tired he just kept asking me if I was all right. I didn't understand why until later he kissed me. I thought I was imagining it but I wasn't because I kissed him back. Since then I've never let him go and he's never let me either.

That brings me here now. In Alexandria a year after Dayrl asked me to marry him and two months after I did. When he was out with Carol and I was in our room. Getting dressed

I was trying to find an outfit to where since most are dirty. I was completely naked besides my panties. 'You look so pretty baby' Dayrl said in his thick accent which I love so much. ' I have to get dress Dar' I said as he carreses my thighs. ' for what? hm. what do you have to do? sit down and look pretty for me?' he says right into my ear and his hand goes higher and higher up my leg. ' I wan' the day with my wife and that's what I'm I plan to do'. I moan when be places kisses all down my neck and says ' Carol is taking my shift doll I get you all to myself'.

He turns me around and walks backwards with his tongue down my throat until I hit the back of the bed a fall onto it. He doesn't take a break from Kissing me for what seems forever. God he's so hot. When he finally does stop it's to take off his clothes. All I wanna do is kiss his beautiful body but he won't let me up. He finally takes his boxers off and his cock springs up. It's so red and leaking with precum and it always stands so tall.

'Whatcha lookin' at baby' he asks as your checks become pink but you don't care, you both know what you want and even if you wanted to say anything you don't have time before he's pulling your panties down and kissing up your leg making sure to leave marks that he only he will be able to see. When he finally gets to where you need him he picks his head up and you grind over nothing. ' No dar, please don't stop'. you say and you swear his eyes get a shade darker as he says ' Who does this pussy belong to?' God I love when he acts like this you thougt. 'You, Only you' and the second you say that his mouth is on your clit and his fingers and inside you.

'No. no, Stop' you say and he looks so confused. 'What' he says and you sit up on your elbows and say ' I want your cock please' and he just has the biggest smirk ever before he gets in between your legs and pushes them apart before he pushes into you and gives you a minute to adjust to him until you nod. The second that you give the ok He starts fucking you and it feels so good ' Holy shit Daryl. Kiss me' and he doesn't hesitate, the second you say it his lips and on yours 'faster please' and he backs up says 'you sure?' and you nod. And he goes faster ' Fuck, Daddy'. He never gets sick of you calling him that. And he says ' Fuck, 'Wan' to make me a Daddy baby?' the second he says that your eyes are open and your moaning " yes, yes, yes, please I want to make you a daddy'.

Once you say that he's going faster and rubbing your clit and it feels so good that you don't even have time to warn him before you cum. But he doesn't stop or slow down, all he cares about is cumming in you. And after you catch your high your squeezing his cock all over again, it all just feels so good too him and he cums in you while you cum around him. and he falls on top of you.

You two lay like that for a few minutes before he pulls out and you hiss and the feeling of being empty. ' did ya really mean it' he asks. 'Yeah, I did Dar' you say giggling. ' lay down Daryl, I wanna ride you' you say and he lays down, you climb on top of him and his cum that's coming out of you is making it so easy for him to slip into you. ' shit' he mutters. " Holy shit, fuck. you feels so good' from the Overstimulation of the past two orgasms this one a coming fast and hard 'shit dar, I'm gonna cum again' then he starts sloppy thrusting into you and says ' shit, me too baby' and at that moment you both cum together.

'Hm, you ok baby?' he says to you when you fall into his chest. ' yeah, just tired asshole' and at that he just laughs and sits up with you still around him and carries you both to the bathroom. He sets you on the bathroom counter and gets a rag wet. ' no' you say sleepy and kisses your temple and says ' gotta doll, don't want anything to happen to my beautiful wife' and gently puts the rag agents your swollen cunt and cleans when he just fucked.

I can't wait until you're pregnant' He mutters. Then he picks you up and carries you to the bed. 'Sleep tight my love' he says as you fall into a deep slumber. And you sleep knowing you have the hottest, bravest, husband in the world that would do anything for you

#daryl dixion smut #fanfiction #smut #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl fluff #read the warnings

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metalomagnetic · 5 months

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hiii! i love your different characterisations of v so muchhh, how would you rank your voldemorts from the cruelest to the least cruel from all your fics?

That's such a fun question! Made me think a little, since my Voldemorts are always similar in nature, and mostly have some slight differences based on circumstances.

So, here we go, from the cruelest to the least cruel:

1.Voldemort from Ouroboros. (and from Beauty and the Beast, since I always intended them to be the same person with the same history. And he's also the same with The customer is always right.)

I think some people will not agree with this- I think the most common opinion is that Voldemort from Either must die is the cruelest, but in my opinion the one from Ourobors is far worse. The only difference comes from the way the protagonists sees him; Tom is cruel himself, so Voldemort doesn't look so bad to him; poor Harry is a national treasure made of kindness and compassion so he perceives his Voldemort in a different way. But, overall, in my mind, Ouro Voldemort is so much more broken, so much crueler than Either must die Voldemort.

2.Tom from Lesser Evil

Tom here is worse than even canon Tom. He suffers so much more in this world ruled by Grindelwald, and he also grows up with Gellert as a mentor, who gives Tom access to prisoners and poor civilians, with no consequences to be had. That universe is very, very lucky Tom developed an obsession with Albus, who so far keeps this feral boy from burning the world down. But when Albus will die...well. I would not want to be part of that universe, I tell you!

3.Voldemort from Either must die

I wouldn't say he's especially cruel compared to my other iterations of him, but this one is one of the sanest, so that makes him *highly* efficient. The scariest thing about this Voldemort is his remarkable patience and his crystal clear logic. Yet, over time, his daughter (and Harry, to a lesser extent) definitely mellow him out by the end.

4.Voldemort from It runs in the blood.

This one is also very scary because he's at the height of his power, still saner than whatever came back from Albania, and he's an expert manipulator. Some people tell me he is noticeably softer than my other Voldemorts, but he's not. It just seems that way because we see him mostly through the eyes of our smitten protagonist, Sirius, who also doesn't have the greatest moral compass in the world.

However, this Voldemort now gets someone in his life that might influence him in some ways, teach him something about caring for others.

5.Tom from Ouroboros (I feel like he should get a place in the ranking, too, since he's also Voldemort)

This is a Tom that grew up with a very broken, bent on revenge Voldemort. That learned dark magic straight from him, since an early age. Saw him torturing and killing muggles in their home basement.

Alas, he also got friends in this, and he learned some compassion because he felt safe, and that allowed him to care about others, too.

He's a sweetheart compared to his 'father', but he's still very much a cruel, selfish boy that ends up ruling the entire world and allows Voldemort to commit genocide against billions of muggles.

6.Voldemort from The last enemy.

He's dead, so he has nothing else to lose. There's no one around to be cruel to.

He also fell in love. Better late than never!

7, 8. Voldemort from Prison Blues/ Tom from Dissonance

Just plain, old regular cruelty levels.

9. Voldemort from Metamorphosis.

He's retired! He's too done with everyone's shit to be that cruel. He has it in him, of course, but those darn kids and that annoying Albus with his lovely, bouncing curls occupy most of his time, so he doesn't have the energy to be cruel much. And did he forget to kill Potter again? He even wrote it down somewhere!

10. Tom from `Metamorphosis.

He's just a darling. He's a little ...deficient when it comes to compassion, but he's definitely the most well adjusted from all the Voldemorts. He also makes a great step-dad! Ask Lucius, he'll tell you in a heartbeat that Tom is his favourite dad and he can do no wrong.

(Also, I realised the last 5 Voldemorts all had a fling with Abraxas? And they're the least evil? Hmmm....is that the secret? Malfoy cock is a cure to evilness??? Must be researched!)

This is just how I see it! I'm sure some of the people that read all these fics would rank them differently and that's fun and interesting! At the end of the day, Voldemort is rotten, everywhere, but he's just such an interesting, complex villain that I will never stop loving him. (From behind a laptop scree, of course. Where it's safe to love him and torture him in my fics.)

Thank you for the ask! ❤️

#lord voldemort #my fics #I can't believe I wrote so many Voldemorts

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twirlywhirlywriting · 7 months

Text

What Would I Do Without You?

I finally did it!!! This was definitely a challenge for me as a writer. I am mostly used to female submissives so this was a huge change! I hope you all like it, I worked really hard on it! Here you go, my loves, submissive John Murphy!

Title: What Would I Do Without You?

TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut, Sub!Murphy x Dom!/Reader, Reader’s POV, Fem Reader, Use of Y/N, Cussing, Soft Dom, Mistress Kink, Obedience, Reassurance, Strip Tease, Kissing, Praise, Fingering, Oral (f receiving), P in V (unprotected), Orgasms, Soft Edging (literally one time), Handjob, Slight Mess, Aftercare, Mentions of Love

The first thing that I need to point out before telling you anything, is that John Murphy is mine. He is the love of my life, he is my best friend, he is my baby. He’s my submissive, my fuck toy, my good boy, just mine. I know that when you look at us, we seem like any other “power couple” who are really just giant assholes who don’t care about anyone else but each other. But really, he’s just trying to give the people what they want, and well, I can’t help myself from being protective of him and his feelings.

The only reason he is being so forceful in making everyone take off those stupid wristbands is because no one wants the fuckers who put us down here to follow us. We don’t deserve to be prisoners. We are lucky none of us are 18, otherwise we’d all be dead anyways. But they put us on this dropship without our permission. They are the ones who didn’t know if they were killing us or not. And now we have the entire Earth to ourselves. The last thing that any of us want is for those stupid assholes to follow us down and take control again, or worse, call us criminals again. We deserve this whole goddamn Earth to ourselves, we were the ones who were going to die for it if it turned out to be uninhabitable anyway.

Most people understand this and are happy to take off the damn wristband-tracker-whatever the fuck they are. If everyone on the Ark thinks we died, they won’t follow us and we will finally be free. But Clarke and her stupid boy toy followers are making things way harder than they need to be. They’re being dicks to John, my John. I can’t stand it.

“Stop it, Murphy! Everyone, you have to stop taking those off, the Ark has to know we’re alive!” Clarke screams at John over the fire. Maybe he is being a little bit intense, not letting anyone get dinner until they allow him to remove the wristband. But it’s for their own good! How can that bitch not see that?

“No one wants the Ark to know we’re alive, Clarke. We want to be free. We deserve to be free.” He retorts, then turns to everyone, “Do you want to be the Ark's prisoners again? For doing nothing? For saving their asses and getting nothing in return?” He yells, and everyone around boos at Clarke; she and Wells look like they’re about to pop their top.

She grabs a piece of meat anyways and starts eating, then glares at him. “No rules, right? Screw you, Murphy.” His eyes look like he’s ready to kill her, but I know that look. When he looks murderous, he’s really just sad, or scared, or something. Maybe angry too, maybe a bit murderous, but mostly sad. And that makes me fume.

I hand my food to John and stand up. Yanking the food back from Clarke, I step right up to her and get in her face. “You know you can’t do that shit. Chaos is good, but you’re just being fucking stupid. He’s helping people, whether you realize it or not. You, Wells, and Finn can all just go on your merry fucking way and find your own food. We’ll get your wristbands later.” She looks like she’s about to throw a punch, but Finn stops her and pulls her away. I’m still fuming, who does she think she is? Finn is right, she is a fucking princess. Wells and Clarke think they get to decide all the rules just because his Daddy and her Mommy are in charge up there. Well, they’re fucking wrong.

As I sit back down, John gives me back my food. We are both still so pissed off at the whole situation, and not just because of right now. Clarke and those stupid boys are always getting in John’s way. They truly think they can lead us! While I sit here thinking about how fucked up it is, John grabs my hand and brings it up to his lips, planting the softest kiss. I know he’s trying to calm me down, even though he’s just as mad as I am. He’s so fucking sweet. He could be ready to kill someone and when he looks at me or touches me, it is always so soft and loving. He treats me like a queen no matter how he feels.

I smile at him and when I catch his eyes, I can tell he needs a break. He is trying so hard to keep his cool in front of everyone, but I can tell the frustration of the day and that encounter is getting to him. I quickly shove the last bite of food into my mouth and lead him to our tent with his hand in mine. I’m going to take all of his thoughts and make them melt away, I know just what to do.

The second we get inside, he asks, “Am I doing something wrong?” and I shake my head and smile at him, staring into his gorgeous blue eyes. You may think he likes to take charge with the way he acts around other people, but you’d have it all wrong. He needs the release of not having to make choices. To listen to someone else for a change, have someone else be responsible for him when no one is watching.

“No baby boy, nothing wrong at all. You’re perfect.” I kiss him on the lips, then kiss both of his cheeks, and when I look into his eyes again, I can’t take it. He’s just so hot, standing there and waiting to react to my every move. I kiss him again, harder this time, moving my hands up under his shirt a little to glide my hands along his stomach and chest. He grabs me by my waist and kisses me back deeply, stifling a small moan. I know he wants me. I grin and look up to him, putting my hand on his cheek softly. “What does my good boy want, hm?”

He bites his lip and looks into my eyes, knowing just the right words to say. “I want to make you feel good, Mistress. I just want to feel you all over me. I want to feel you on my hands, my lips, my tongue, I want to please you with every part of me.” It’s hard for me to keep my composure when he says such yummy words.

“And you can have me. But not yet. Sit on the bed, for now you only get to watch.” He immediately obeys, sitting on the bed with his eyes glued to me. I slowly take off my shirt, much slower than normal, feeling his eyes look over every inch of my stomach, my ribs, my tits, my collarbone and neck, and finally my face again. With my pants, it’s the same thing. I turn around this time though, giving him a full view as I bend over and let him watch every part of my ass and legs become exposed. I peel my underwear off too, giving him just a quick peek of my pussy before standing up and turning around again.

Instead of letting him touch me like he asked for, I smirk at him, trailing my hands up my stomach and start squeezing my tits, then trailing my fingertips around my nipples until they get hard. I love watching him practically drool, watching his pants get tight, his hands grabbing onto the sheets to stop himself from leaping up and grabbing me.

I move a hand down my stomach, across my hips, parting my legs just enough to let my hand slip between them. I keep one hand squeezing my tit and sometimes pinching my nipple, letting the other hand glide along my slit, then I start to slowly rub my clit. I lean my head back and moan, wondering just how much this is killing him and enticing him to watch. After maybe a minute or so, I pull my hand back up, stare straight into his eyes, and lick the wetness off of my fingers. His face flushes, and I ask him, “What is it? Do you want a taste too?”

He stumbles over his words as though he couldn’t get them out fast enough, “Yes, Mistress, please let me taste you.” It makes me feel so warm inside when he says these things. Of course, I’ll give him what he wants. I walk towards him, put a foot up onto the bed to give him a better view, and slide a single finger inside of myself. When I pull it out, it’s glistening. It’s fucking teasing me to do this too, but I love seeing how much he wants me.

“Open.” I demand as I put my finger up to his lips, and he does so immediately. I slide my finger in his mouth, and he is happy to suck my finger clean. “Good boy, you are so patient. You get to touch me now.” I lay down onto the bed, “Whatever you want to do to start with, baby, you earned it.”

He climbs on top of me, kissing my neck oh so gently, it almost tickles. He works his way down to my chest, and as he does so, his kisses become more erratic and have more pressure. He gets to my tits, and uses his tongue to circle my nipple, using a hand to follow suit on my other nipple. I close my eyes to fully enjoy the sensations, combing my fingers through his hair as he does this.

After a little bit of this, I feel my wetness and the tingle of desire a bit too intensely. “Okay, I need you on my pussy, right now.” The end of my sentence is almost a growl, I didn’t realize how fucking wet I was until it hit me like a brick wall and I couldn’t wait a single second longer.

“Yes Mistress, of course.” He scoots back on the bed, wetting two of his fingers using my own juices, sliding one in and pumping a few times before adding the second. He starts kissing my clit, just warming me up as he continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out, just barely curling his fingers up at the last second of every thrust, only a whisper of a touch to my g-spot. Even with how soft he’s being, my breathing quickens. He’s not one to need too much direction on exactly how to please a woman. He doesn’t start off too fast, and he definitely knows where all the good spots are. Whether he’s naturally gifted, or if he’s practiced, I’ve never cared to ask. He’s all fucking mine and that’s the only thing that matters to me.

“You’re doing so good, baby, you’re such a good boy for me, that’s just right.” I coo at him, making sure every second that he knows just how good he’s making me feel.

His kisses on my clit slowly turn into kisses with tongue, and that turns into pressing his tongue into me with the tiniest of suction of his lips, letting go with a tiny pop every time. As his kisses change into this, his fingers start working faster, and the second he feels my g-spot swell, he starts fully curving them into that wonderful “come here” motion as he pumps them in and out of me. His tongue gets faster as well, consistent stimulation with suction every few seconds, it’s perfect. I grip the sheets with one hand and his hair in another, unable to control how loud or often I’m moaning. I can barely talk anymore, but I mumble out a “Good boy, just like that!”

It only takes a couple of minutes before my orgasm comes to the brink, my legs shaking and the world around me practically spinning as I hit my peak. When it calms down, I grip his hair tighter and pull him up to me in a sloppy kiss, both of us breathing heavily. “Am I making you feel good, Mistress? That was good?” He asks me, and my heart melts. He is probably the only guy in the world to make a girl cum that hard and not be full of himself about it. He wants reassurance that he’s doing things just how I like them. Fuck, I love him. He is going to be mine forever, I swear to God.

“Yes, you are doing so good, baby boy. I’m going to keep you mine forever. Understand?” I look into his eyes so that he knows that isn’t just pillow talk, that he really is mine. Forever.

He nods with more enthusiasm than I’ve ever seen, and responds with the same seriousness in his voice that I had in mine. “Yes Mistress, I’m all yours, forever. You own me.”

I give him one more kiss before switching our positions so that I’m on top of him now. “I need you to be inside me now.” I say as I slowly ease myself onto him, groaning as I feel the fullness inside of me. “It’s my turn to watch as you feel good, baby.” I say soothingly, before adding sternly, “now don’t you dare look away. I want to look into your eyes the whole time I’m making you feel good.”

He bites his lip and nods, almost immediately moaning as I start riding him, slowly at first, moving my hips up and down, then back and forth, then a mixture of them all, in a circle. I love watching the sweat slowly build in his hair, watching the muscles on his chest and abs clench as I make him feel so good. I place my hand on his chest to give me better leverage to go faster, faster, and stop right as I see he is starting to get closer to his orgasm.

Disappointment flickers in his eyes, but only for a moment, he knows I’m never going to fully deny him. He’s too beautiful and perfect to truly be mean. I lean down to give him a kiss, before whispering into his ear. “Now, you’re going to make me cum again. I’m going to stay still, and you are going to fuck me like this, exactly how I tell you to.”

“Yes Mistress, I want to make you cum on me. Please tell me what you want.” He begs and I groan quietly, he’s too fucking good.

I straighten back up and tell him to start off slow, which he does. He keeps his hands on my waist to help him gain leverage, and I trail my fingers along his chest and tell him constantly how good he’s doing, how much he’s pleasing me. I tell him to go faster, then to slow down, then to go deeper and harder, then faster, then slow again. He follows along with my words perfectly. I like to work myself up to the edge, not too fast, I want to enjoy every moment of this. But when I notice he is getting a little tired, I tell him to speed up and fuck me as hard as he can.

My nails dig into his chest as I cum, my head falling back as I moan and my legs squeeze against his sides, making it harder for him to continue fucking me but he pushes through. When I look back down at him I smile at his flushed face, “Stop, baby. You can stop. You are such a perfect fuck toy. Now it’s finally your turn.”

I start riding him again, keeping up with the quick pace and making sure I’m going all the way down, pushing all of him inside me with every hip thrust. I love watching him pant and whimper as he gets close to the edge. “Mistress, please, I-I-I’m close!” he says with urgency, and I get off of him and immediately jerk him off, keeping the pace as I watch him cum all over himself, biting my lip as I watch.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby.” I tease, making him blush a little bit but he knows I’m not mad. I just love watching him make a mess everywhere, especially on himself. I quickly grab a rag and clean him up, first wiping the sweat off his brow and then cleaning up his chest.

I lay down next to him, propping myself up on my elbow. I kiss him all over his face, a million times practically, whispering in a soothing voice “You are such a good boy,” and “You did such a wonderful job,” and “It’s all over now baby, I love you so much.” and “I’ll be right here to care for you, always.” in between the kisses being peppered all over his face. He snuggles into me, and I am happy to hold him, regulating my own breathing in order to help him regulate his.

I stroke his hair, humming softly in a soothing lullaby I forgot the words to a long time ago, every once in a while kissing the top of his head. After a while, he looks up at me and asks, “Did you really mean it, that I’m yours forever? Because.. I want to be. I always want to be yours, Y/N. Always.”

I smile back at him, my heart melting all over again. “Whatever would I do without you, John? I love you.”

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ijustwanttoreadfanfiction · 1 year

Text

Candyland

Rockstar! (ish) Eddie Munson x AFAB! Bar Dancer Reader

Cherry Pie is always the inspiration for some absolute filth. Reader works at a Coyote Ugly type bar - you'll find out, it's hard for me to describe this one. Because I suck.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, suggestive content with the dancing?

The R-Bar, Chicago - 1991

Eddie is sweating his nutsack off, fingers red raw from shredding for almost two hours, voice sore and crackling. The mediocre applause that follows him off the small stage with the rest of the band hardly seems worth the pain. He snags a water bottle from a beat up trestle table, chugging it in relief as their manager Lambshank approaches; so named because he got shanked in prison with a lamb bone, true story.

“That was a killer set guys, great work, the crowd loved you!” He hails with so much bravado it verges on sarcasm.

“Yeah, all fourteen of them.” Eddie deadpans.

“I counted seventeen.” Jeff wryly supplies with a rough croak, finishing off his own bottle of water.

“Alright, it wasn’t the biggest crowd, granted, but everyone has to start somewhere.” Lambshank reasons.

“Yeah, but we started this group eleven years ago, Shank.” Eddie huffs, he knew the rockstar dream wouldn’t be an easy one to achieve but he thought after graduating and being able to pour all his time and what little money he had into the band they’d be playing bigger and better venues by now.

He was fed up, every place was like The Hideout back home, filled with drunks, and sticky floors. They did have a couple of genuine fans, who they appreciated even if they were slightly over-zealous in their affections; Gareth had never quite been the same since Luann, the forty-seven year old divorcee, threw her FF bra directly at his face mid-show.

“You fellas need a fun night out, get yourselves pumped up again and I know just the place.” Lambshank says bracingly, working his fists back and forth like a Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robot. Eddie scrubs at his tired sweaty face, pushing his hair out of his eyes, wanting nothing more than to shower and go to bed, god he was getting old.

“Shank I don’t need a night out, I need to get some sleep.”

“Eddie, I promise you, you’ll enjoy it - and the first round of drinks are on me.” Shank offers teasingly.

_______________________________________________

“Candyland?” Gareth asks, reading the pink neon sign aloud as they all stand outside a rather nondescript looking building, the loud heavy bass thumping of music the only indicator there might be something going on inside.

“Candyland.” Lambshank affirms with a grin, gesturing towards the heavy door in front of them, a burly and surly looking doorman giving Lambshank a curt nod letting the group in.

It’s a cacophony of noise, and flashing lights, the place is packed to the rafters, the smell of stale beer and sweat heavy in the air. But it’s the movement from the bar area that catches Eddie’s eye, a group of women all around his age in various states of undress, dancing and grinding along to No Sleep Till Brooklyn - Beastie Boys, they also appear to be serving drinks.

“Welcome to Candyland boys!” Lambshank laughs, patting Eddie heavily on the back.

It’s certainly a show, the girls are laughing and screaming things out, men and women on the floor crowded up to the raised surface cheering loudly, throwing money, and generally having the time of their lives.

The song finishes up, and the bar girls all jump down to be replaced by an older looking blonde woman with a microphone in her hand.

“Candyland, how are we doing tonight?!” She yells, to a deafening cheer. “C’mon I know you can do better than that, I said HOW ARE WE DOING TONIGHT?” She corrals with a fist to the air.

The bar shouts back in unison, even Eddie finds himself wanting to join in.

“That’s what I like to hear.” She laughs throatily. “Now I want you to give it up, and by that I mean your hard earned dollars, for our girl JETT!”

I Love Rock ‘N Roll - Joan Jett starts up, along with a raucous cheer from the crowd as girl jumps up onto the bar in black PVC booty shorts, a ripped white crop top, black bra visible underneath and black high-top converse, her back is to everyone as she claps her hands and stamps along to the beat, Eddie tears his eyes away trying to work out the best route to the bar in order to actually get a drink when Gareth starts tugging hard on his arm.

“Jeez man what?” Eddie huffs in irritation, Gareth points dumbly back towards the bar, mouth hanging open, Eddie looks again and feels his own jaw drop.

“Holy shit it’s -” Jeff breathes, the girl is finally facing the crowd, throwing her body back and forth, a huge smile plastered across her pretty face.

“Y/n -” Eddie finishes his sentence with a gulp.

Eddie hadn’t seen you since graduation, but it was definitely you, despite your get up and apparent new found sense of confidence there was no mistaking your face. You had been something of a shrinking violet at High School, choosing to hang out with Eddie and the gang as they didn’t mind that you were painfully shy and preferred books to conversation, and whilst you had never been a fully fledged member of Hellfire you sometimes took part in the occasional campaign if they were short and Eddie coaxed you enough.

It didn’t seem you needed to be coaxed into doing anything anymore though as you gyrated on the platform, hooking your leg and arm around a pole between the bar top and ceiling, spinning about seductively. You headbang slightly, before dropping low to grab a handful of dollars from a howling man, one of the girls behind the bar passes you up a bottle of vodka and you expertly pour a shot into the man’s open mouth. As the song fades out, some of the other girls jump back up to join you, the vodka bottle in your hand being swapped for the microphone.

“Good evening Candyland.” You purr slightly out of breath, laughing loudly at the tumultuous response. “Life is sweet, but you know what? It could be a little sweeter, so how about we pour a little sugar on you?” You ask suggestively, throwing your arms up as Pour Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard rings out.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look, well he knows exactly where he wants to look but he doesn’t know if he should. You’re back to back with one of the other girls, both winding down to your knees, you crawl across the bar and Eddie finds himself standing tiptoes to follow your progress. You lay on your back, arching upwards, so your chest is on display, while a redhead girl in Daisy dukes wets your body with the seltzer tap. You screech wildly, shaking your head allowing the liquid to splash the front row, Eddie thinks he might pass out as the blood thunders down from his brain to his cock.

You move back up into a kneel, taking the tap and spraying it into the raucous crowd, whilst necking a beer you’ve taken off of someone. You and the rest of the girls line up, all bending sideways so you’re grabbing the ass of the other, spanking in time to the music, before shaking your legs so the muscles bounce and jiggle.

“This is insane.” Gareth says weakly next to Eddie, and he has to agree. You straighten up, spinning around the pole once again until you’re head on staring at Eddie and the group, a wide beaming smile of recognition breaking across your face. You seem to be dancing with even more enthusiasm now you’ve clocked your old school friends, hands running over your own form, as you strut up and down the platform. The redhead from before has a bottle of whiskey in her hand which she pours on her chest with a subtle nod to you, you lean in and lick the gold liquid from her skin, to rapturous hoots and hollers, tracing your tongue up her neck until you meet her mouth; Eddie notices more dollar bills clutched in your hands as you pull away.

The song comes to an end, and you instantly jump down into the crowd, pushing patrons out of your way, practically racing towards the band.

“OH MY GOD, HI!” You shout excitedly, barrelling straight into Eddie first, he barely has time to snap out of his funk and embrace you back before you're pulling away to address the others. You’re flushed with exertion, but to him you’ve never looked prettier.

“Gareth, Jeff!” You hail, bringing each of them in for their own hug, Eddie having to fight down a sudden surge of jealousy.

“Y/n! What the hell man?!” Gareth greets you with a laugh, gesturing to the hive of activity still taking place on the bar behind you.

“Girl’s gotta make a living, ya know.” You tease, punching him lightly in the arm. “It’s my Aunt’s place, she’s the blonde one up there.” You point to the older woman who revved up the crowd earlier, she’s currently pouring a row of shots, but all the while keeping an eye on her girls, including you.

“What are you guys doing here?” You ask casually, like you’re not standing in front of them scantily clad, and the source of their awkward crotch covered stances.

“We’re on tour.” Jeff supplies.

“Holy shit - that’s so cool, where are you playing?” Eddie wants to answer you, but your devastating smile is making his brain short circuit.

“They played the R-Bar tonight. Lambshank, manager extraordinaire and long time patron of Candyland.” Lambshank butts in, offering his hand in greeting, you shake it and Eddie sees a slight wariness enter your expression.

“The R-Bar huh? I’d thought with how good you guys were in High School, you’d be playing bigger venues than that.” You don't say it maliciously, you seem genuinely concerned, and it sparks Eddie's brain and mouth back to life.

“We’ve been trying to but it’s not been going so well.” Eddie says quietly, and you nod in understanding.

“Where are you guys playing next?” You ask with interest.

“We’re at the R-Bar again tomorrow night.” Gareth says, unable to keep the dismay out of his voice.

“Ok, cool, leave it with me. Drinks on the house by the way, just go see my aunt. Catch up properly at close?” You ask quickly, already backing up towards the bar, slipping under the gap and whispering in your aunt's ear as you service the clamouring groups.

Eddie's gaze is firmly fixed on your retreating form, he always had a soft spot for you through school, ok maybe crush was more accurate, although he'd play it off as a brotherly protective vibe when people had asked but what he was feeling now was far from brotherly.

"I'll get us some beers." He says not caring if the others are listening, purposely ignoring Lambshank's request for a double JD, as he makes his way through the thronging horde, with a little elbowing he eventually gets to the front.

“What can I get you handsome?” Your aunt asks him, leaning across the bar.

“Uh - four Coors Dry please.” He responds absentmindedly watching the way you’re shaking a drink at the other end of the bar, clearly flirting with every customer and doing a damn good judging by your overflowing tip jar.

“Would you prefer for my niece to serve you?” Your aunt says with a wry smile.

“Oh - uh - no sorry, just haven't seen her in a while.” Eddie stammers, slipping across a $20 bill.

“You’re Eddie right?” He nods, she smiles and it’s not too dissimilar to your own. “I'm Paula. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. She never used to shut up about you when she was a teenager, Eddie this, Eddie that.” She laughs, pouring the beers.

“She liked me?” Eddie asks in shock, the thought makes his head spin.

“I don’t think you need to put it in the past tense hunny.” Paula grins, sliding his $20 back across the bar. “You break her heart, I’ll get Doug the Doorman to break your fingers.”

Before Eddie can respond, your voice cuts across the noise once more, you’re up on the bar again, microphone in hand.

“Alright Candylanders, it’s come to our attention that we have some very, very special guests here with us tonight -” The seductive lilt in your tone is back, commanding the attention of everyone in the room, but none more so than Eddie. “- all the way from my hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, they are the next generation of rockstars, the one, the only CORRODED COFFIN!” You bellow pointing towards where Gareth, Jeff and Lambshank are still standing.

“They’re the real deal, and they’re playing at the R-Bar tomorrow, I know - I know it's a fucking shithole." You argue back to the murmured complaints. "But here's the deal, you all go and I will reveal my very secret, very intimate tattoo at the end of their show -” You teasingly pull at the waistline of your booty shorts, before stroking your hand down over your covered mound, the crowd going wild. “- Alright you bunch of horn dogs, save it for tomorrow, now let’s get this fucking party started!” You scream, throwing the microphone down to Paula, who gives you a huge wink.

Cherry Pie - Warrant blares out of the speakers, the girls clambering up to join you once more, pitchers of water in their hands.

“ANYONE ELSE FEELING WET?” Paula shouts into the mic, as you and the rest of the girls pour the pitchers over yourselves, Eddie watches completely enthralled as the water cascades over your chest and down your legs, barely noticing how Gareth and Jeff have joined him.

You stomp over towards them, a huge smile on your face again, dropping into an impressive front split, water droplets glistening over your flushed skin.

“Hey Eddie, you want a blowjob?” You ask loudly over the music.

“Do I want a what?!” Eddie asks incredulously, half laughing, half choking on his beer.

You jump down, grabbing a shot glass, and two bottles of liquor, topping it off with some whipped cream.

“A blow job.” You present to him with a devious smirk.

Eddie throws his head back in a proper laugh, the kind of laugh you used to savour hearing through school, he moves to take the shot but you slap his hand anyway.

“Oh that’s not for you big boy, it’s for me. You need to sit right here.” You say patting the bar top, Eddie looks at you warily but hoists himself up regardless with a smile, you wink and then move to the other end of the bar, whispering something to Paula as you pass.

“Ohhhhh! Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like Jett is about to give some lucky guy a blowjob!” Paula shouts through the mic, stopping mid pour to ring a bell, Eddie’s ears hurt from the wolf whistles and stamping of feet.

Two girls, the redhead and a brunette, help get him in the correct position, legs spread with the shot in between, you get lifted onto the bar by Doug blowing a kiss to him and the gathered crowd. Sinking to your knees you stalk towards him in a slow crawl, he would never be able to listen to Smooth up in ya in the same way ever again. When you reach him, you lean in close to his ear so only he can hear you, his arm automatically coming up to steady you as you hover.

“When I touch your knee, put your hand on the back of my head, and when I touch it again let go.”

You move back, grinning from ear to ear, running your hands over his chest, down and down, fingers brushing his thighs, until you reach his knees; Eddie lifts a shaking a hand to run through your hair at the crown of your head, you wink again before arching low, ass in the air, he can see your lips wrap around the glass; he knows you must notice his raging hard on.

“SHOT, SHOT, SHOT!” The bar screams and Eddie suddenly remembers there are a hundred people watching your antics. Once you have the drink secure, you run your hands back up his legs, tapping his knee once, he lets his hand drop from your head albeit reluctantly. You throw your whole body back, chest jutting out, swallowing the shot to ear splitting cheers and clapping, letting a carefully choreographed bit of liquid spill from the side of your mouth, using your thumb to seductively chase it back to your mouth with a firm suck.

You press a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips, before standing abruptly, taking a bow.

“Can I get one of those? Please?” Gareth asks, voice strained.

_______________________________________________

The rest of the night passes in a blur of girls dancing, pounding music and alcohol but Eddie only has eyes for you. Even when Gareth gets his ‘blowjob’ from the redhead, Cherry, you’re still his focus, the way you move, how openly you laugh with the girls sharing private jokes, the way you handle yourself; fearless and so sexy.

The bar finally closes at 2am, it’s oddly quiet now the sound system is off, only the chink of glasses being collected and general chit-shit fills the air. Lambshank is chewing Paula’s ear off about management opportunities, which she seems to be responding to with good humour. Gareth is following Cherry about like a lost puppy, helping her with clearing tables, and Jeff is asleep in one of the booths, a cocktail umbrella tucked behind his ear.

You’re wiping down the bar top, a shy smile on your face, the one Eddie remembered from school, it seems the shrinking violet is still there once the music is off.

“So Eddie Munson the rockstar huh?” You say, voice a little croaky from a night of shouting and singing.

“I wouldn’t say rockstar.” Eddie murmurs, sipping at his drink.

“Is the band your only job?” You ask pointedly, spraying at a stubborn sticky spot.

“Yeah.” Eddie says, rubbing at his neck feeling self conscious.

“Well then, you’re a rockstar.” You grin softly.

“Alright ladies, you can all head home, Mr Shank here is going to help me finish up.” Paula calls, meeting your raised eyebrows with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders.

Eddie watches as Gareth attempts to rouse Jeff from his deep drunken stupor, wondering if he can manage to get him back to the hotel by himself, not quite ready to leave your side, evidently you are thinking along the same lines as you place a delicate hand on his arm.

“Shall we help get the guys back to your hotel?” You suggest gently, trying not to laugh as Jeff sinks lower into the seat trying to pull Gareth in for a spooning.

“You want to come back with me?” Eddie asks, surprised, not believing his luck.

“Yes, if that’s ok.” You say blushing profusely. “Unless you don’t want me to.” You add quickly feeling unsure of yourself.

“No! - I uh, I mean I would love for you to come back with me.” Eddie stammers, his face burning likely matching the same reddened shade as your own.

“Ok, just lemme go get changed.” You smile breathlessly.

The hotel isn’t far from the bar, and the thirty minute walk allows you and Eddie to catch up some more, sharing lingering looks and touches where you can, in between half carrying, half dragging Jeff. Gareth being absolutely no help, floating along behind slowly, waxing lyrical about how he is in love with Cherry.

“Should I tell him she’s a lesbian?” You whisper to Eddie, stifling a giggle.

“Let him have his moment whilst he’s still hammered.” Eddie laughs. “I’ll break it to him in the morning, assuming he remembers.”

Your head is swimming with all kinds of Eddie related thoughts as you try your best to concentrate on the task at hand, helping Gareth into bed, he passes out as soon as his face hits the mattress in the double room. Eddie situates a now entirely unconscious Jeff with some difficulty, before making sure they both have glasses of water and Tylenol on the bedside table ready for their no doubt horrendous hangovers.

You’re bubbling with nerves as he closes the door, but they abruptly disappear when he takes your hand, leading you down the corridor to his own room. It's small and basic but at least it’s clean.

“So - uh do you want a drink?” Eddie asks, rooting about in a plastic bag on the side. “I have slightly warm Coke or slightly warm Mountain Dew.”

“Such variety! I’ll take a slightly warm Mountain Dew please.” You laugh, perching on the end of his bed, rubbing your hands over your leggings.

“For Madame.” He passes you a can with a silly little French accent, sitting next to you with a can of Coke. “Gotta say it was one hell of a show you put on tonight sweetheart.”

You’re blushing again, shaking your head in embarrassed disagreement.

“It’s nothing special, just silly little dances and tricks, but it pays the bills, and it helps Paula out.” You say dismissively.

“I think it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Eddie mutters, his leg jiggling with nerves or pent up energy, you couldn’t tell.

“C’mon Eddie, it wasn’t that good.” You mumble, thinking if your cheeks got any warmer the sprinkler system would go off.

“When you did that thing with the shot, I nearly came in my pants.” He says honestly, laughing at his own admission, it sparks something within you, the same feeling of fearlessness you experience when you’re up on the bar. You stand up, taking his drink from his hand and placing it on the windowsill with yours, kicking off your shoes and pulling down your leggings so you’re left in your panties and pink Candyland sweater.

“It would be a waste if you came in your pants Eddie, when my mouth is right here.” You whisper, sinking to your knees in front of him, praying you hadn’t misread the signals.

Eddie doesn’t give you long to worry, grabbing your face in his hands, leaning down to kiss you hard, tongue stroking into your mouth making you moan softly.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is happening.” Eddie murmurs against your lips as you unbuckle his belt, lifting his hips to help you tug his pants and boxers down. His cock slaps against his belly, long and hard, making your mouth water, you wrap your lips around him eagerly, tongue flat against the shaft as you bob up and down.

“Oh - f-fuck.” Eddie groans, hands back in your hair just like at the bar, gently guiding your movements. The room is filled with the sounds of your choking and sucking, the wet slide of your mouth over his throbbing dick, and Eddie’s whimpering gasps.

“Yes! Oh baby, your mouth feels - shit - so fucking good. Used to dream about you - fuck - used to dream about you doing t-this.” He moans, hips pistoning up to meet your open throat as you move quicker. “Can I - ah! Can I fuck you? Please sweetheart?” He begs, and it sends a surge or arousal through you.

You pull off him with a broken gasp, lips swollen and wet.

“Yes please.” You say sweetly, slightly out of breath.

Eddie’s hands are everywhere as he hauls you up from the floor, peeling your panties down, fingers tracing through your wetness whilst he kisses you deeply again.

“Condom - where the fuck did I put the fucking condoms?!” He hisses, stretching back down to retrieve his pants, you laugh peppering his neck with licks and nips.

You’re practically dripping, hovering over his cock, waiting with baited breath as he rolls the condom on, angling the hard tip to your slick opening. Both of you letting out loud moans as you sink down inch by inch, walls hugging him tightly, spasming with the stretch.

“Eddie - oh my god!” You whimper, nails biting into his shoulder, rocking against each other, his balls hitting your ass.

“Yesss, you feel like fucking heaven.” Eddie growls, using his strength to hammer up into you, both knowing the other wasn’t going to last long, the entire evening serving as foreplay. You bring your fingers down to rub roughly at your clit, whining into his mouth through messy kisses, each thrust of his cock bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Eddie, babe, I’m gonna cum.” You gasp, pussy tightening almost to the point of pain, vision going blurry as you climax hard.

“Oh god - baby! Fuck -” Eddie chokes out, arms holding you in a bruising grasp, head against your neck as he jerks his hips at a brutal pace, hurtling into his own release with a loud cry.

Eddie continues to pump gently into you, drawing out your orgasms, lazy kisses, and stroking touches bringing you back down.

“Goddamn, why didn’t we do this years ago?” He asks breathlessly, as you laugh with exhilaration, he lays back on the bed pulling you with him, thundering heartbeats steadily slowing.

“Y/n?” Eddie asks quietly after a time, fingers stroking up and down your thighs.

“Mmm?” You murmur sleepily.

“I know I was a little distracted back there, but - uh - I didn’t see any kind of tattoo.”

You laugh again, pushing off the bed, rummaging through your bag, throwing a small packet at Eddie.

“Candy cigarettes?” He queries in confusion.

“Yep, with a free Batman rub-on tattoo.” You grin, jumping back onto the bed straddling him once more, shoving one of the candy sticks into your mouth.

“Those are a filthy habit, sweetheart.” Eddie teases grinning widely up at you.

“Care to do the honours?” You smirk devilishly, waving the temporary tattoo at him.

_______________________________________________

#eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson 18+#strangers things eddie munson #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fanfic

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bloodynereid · 7 months

Text

Reapers & Ravens

<< prev | chapter ii | next >>

pairings: jordan li x oc

tw: canonical violence and gore, mentions of mysterious vought pills, mentions of death, asshole dad, iffy morals, seizure

description: the story of a girl. a girl cursed by compound v to live a life without touch.

a/n: yayy it's finally posted! if u haven't read chapter one yet I would recommend that or else you'll be kind of confused. also i still haven't watched ep4 or onwards so if there are any mistakes plotwise i'll try to change them when i can. can't wait for you all to see vic's progression as a character oh and her dad is portrayed by chad michael murray. enjoy and lmk if u want to be added to the taglist <3

Blood. So much blood. It was basically singing with unaltered power. I had to hold myself back from just totally pressing myself against all the pool next to me. It was dark out now, and yet we were all still sitting on the stone steps right outside the crimefighting school.

People in neon yellow hazmat suits clinically cleaned up all that remained of Luke. I wanted to shout at them to stop to just let me experience that little sliver of power again, but I kept quiet and made eye contact with Andre. He had a whole aura of grief surrounding his very being.

The medical people had helped clean me up and had given me a spare pair of latex gloves as well as a collection of the school merch that I changed into. The plastic material itched against the soft skin of my hands. The cold burn lingered on the periphery of my brain. As if it was just waiting for me to absorb more and more life force.

Everything was thrumming around me and since all my clothes had been confiscated for cleaning I had no way of getting to my pills. I buried my head between my palms and tried to take a calming breath. No need to start freaking out and do something stupid… like taking a literal blood bath.

“Uh Miss Oaks. We found these in your jacket pocket, they looked important.” I look up to see one of the paramedics holding out the little packet of pills. I snatch quickly from her hand and drily swallow one of the neon green monstrosities.

“Thanks.” She nods and turns back to the ambulance, everything starts to calm down in my brain when I see Cate collapse. Her sobs seem to puncture the very fabric of relaity and tears start to form on my eyelids.

What kind of person wanted to bathe in her friend’s blood? I asked myself and rivers of water started to flow down my cheeks as a shudder shakes through my body. This year was off to a horrible start.

Finally we were released from whatever quarantine they put us in and before I followed Marie to the freshman dorms, I encased Cate in a quick hug.

“I have no idea how you must be feeling right now but all I know is that I’m sorry. If you want to get drunk and watch shitty tv shows I’m only a text away.” Cate’s small grateful smile shined through her tears as she thanked me quietly before we released each other and went our separate ways.

Jogging slightly I caught up with Marie as she pulled the door to our dorm open, she held it for me as we both stepped into the hallways which felt more oppressive and prison-like than usual.

“You okay?” I finally ask, breaking the silence when we reached our floor.

“Okay? Do you really think any of us are okay after that?” Marie basically burst out and looked at me incredulous.

“No… I just fuck I can’t- people are hard to figure out ok. I just- honestly I don’t know anymore.”

“Yeah me neither. Sorry for snapping.”

“Don’t worry about it, I think we’re all entitled to not being calm after everything.”

We nod at each other and when we get to our respective dorms she looks at me as if she’s contemplating saying something else but ultimately decides against it. She just lets out a loud sigh and pushes her dorm door open.

I push mine open as well and suddenly a cloud of incense hits my face. A hand grabs my forearm and pulls me quickly into the room before slamming the door shut.

“Uh… Gemma? What is going on?”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? I tried to get through the barricade but they didn’t let me through even after I explained who I-”

“Woah slow the fuck down Gemma. I’m okay, not hurt at all and you need to calm down. Come on deep breaths.”

We stare into each other’s eyes as I try to slow my roommate’s panicked breathing, every single breath we take together seems to get her a little more level headed.

“You okay now?”

“Yeah sorry, I really should be doing that for you.”

“It’s fine, Gem, now what the hell is with all this incense?” Her tinkling laughter adds to the calming atmosphere that the incense smoke had already start to create.

“Oh umm it helps destress me. When I realized I kind of went overboard I also realized you can’t open the windows.”

“Oh my god only you Gem. Well at least it smells nice.”

“Do you need anything by the way? I’ve got a horror movie lined up and I bought some stuff from Vought-a-Burger.”

“Uh yeah sure just let me get changed into something more comfy.”

“Of course. I’ll set it all up on my computer.”

Stepping towards my closet, I grabbed a pair of neatly folded pajamas and my softest cashmere gloves. Pulling the stupid latex gloves off I breathed out a sigh of relief. A migraine was starting to form at the base of my skull and the cold fire that had started to fade away suddenly came back full force.

I didn’t want to risk taking another one of the pills so soon after ingesting the first one that I just let my power hit me full force. A few seconds later, the cold fire seemed to erupt out of my hands quite literally setting them on fire. It didn’t burn, instead it was like someone had poured alcohol all over my hands and lit it with a match.

The fire stayed lit for a minute before it dissipated. The same second that the fire disappeared, so did the cold burn. I felt completely normal - even slightly refreshed. Weird.

Replacing the GodU merch with flannel pajamas and cashmere gloves, I jumped into Gemma’s bed and we settled in to watch classic horror movies. I felt the night’s trauma settle in more as the minutes of the movie ticked down. I wasn’t a stranger to death but I felt so utterly helpless - there was no way I could have helped. Nothing could have been done. Nothing could have been done. I let the mantra repeat over and over in my head, trying to shake off the overwhelming guilt.

Nothing could have been done.

It was the first official day of school and so far it was completely normal… other than the fact I had somehow made the top 10. Granted I was #7 but still - one of the first freshman to ever make the top fucking ten. Andre got the top spot and Marie also had made it into the rankings just below me. It was embarrassing how obvious Vought was being with their campaign.

What absolutely fucking sucked was that Jordan had been bumped down to 5… it didn’t make any sense since I literally saw how banged up (for a supe) they had been after fighting Luke, they was the one who saved out lives - I just stood around and did nothing.

I was sitting in the commons after making sure to drop a bundle of daisies next to the memorial. They were my private way of mourning Luke, even if they had been amongst the things left for Brink. Scoffing, I watched the rest of the student body act like vultures as they were fucking clout chasing at a damn memorial.

I turned up the volume of my headphones and laid down on the soft grass. The blades of grass pricked at my exposed ankles as the clouds danced past my face. Calm in the eye of the storm it seems.

My cloud watching was rudely interrupted by my phone’s ringtone stopping my music and incessantly going on until I fished it out of my jacket pocket and slid the ‘accept call’ button without really taking notice of who was calling me.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Oaks, your daughter is on the line.” The familiar voice of my father’s PA (or rather employee with benefits) rang through my headphones. Fuck me.

“Thanks Margot. Hello Vicky.” I fought a sigh and bit the side of my cheek - hard.

“Hi dad. How’s it going?”

“Good, good. The new movie seems like it’s going to make some money.”

“That’s great! Are you on set right now?”

“No, weekly massage appointment, remember?” As if I didn’t know that the massage appointment was actually code for, I scrunched up my nose in disgust at all the times I had accidentally walked in on him during one of his “massage appointments”.

“Right yeah, sorry. It’s been a hectic few days.”

“I actually called about that, congratulations on making the top 10 sweetheart, you better start working hard. First freshman in history! Well other than that other girl, what was her name? Natalie, Renee-” The little flame of happiness in my chest was slightly diminished because of the insult that always seemed to follow the compliment.

“Marie dad, Marie.”

“Right, yes. Anyways I’ve got to go, the masseuse is calling. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Sure da-” The line cut off before I could even finish my goodbyes, he really got on my fucking nerves sometimes. My music came back on full blast after the call finished and I tried to ease back into my calm state when yet another interruption decided to arise.

This time it was a gaggle of freshmen who had their phones pointed at my face and I could dimly hear them all gushing about being my best friend. Okay break over. Rolling my eyes I jumped up from my position on the floor and quickly made my exit from the scene.

The only place that I knew would be a good hideout was my dorm but Gemma was supposedly prepping for her first Performance Arts class, which I definitely did not want to interrupt and so that left… the library. But before I could even think of making my way over there I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

It was a message from Margot, stating that I was needed for promo materials at one of the auditoriums. Great, just perfect. I didn’t bother to respond to her text but started moving in the opposite direction of the library.

The heels of my boots click against the cement paths as I fiddle with the clasp on my gloves. The white leather glided over the metallic clasp as I hurried up the stone steps to the Performing Arts building.

Grabbing the silver door handle and walking into the studio, it was as if the neon backdrop exploded my retinas. Before I could even blink, I felt someone grab my arm and drag me over to a makeup chair.

“Oh thank god. We had no idea where you were, we had to get your father’s PA to message you and that already took enough of our time.” The frantic but familiar voice of Courtenay Fourtney greeted me as a bunch of random people seemed to appear out of the shadows, each holding some kind of makeup or styling instrument.

“Uh sorry.”

Suddenly I saw an ungloved hand start coming towards my face but just as my hand was about to grab the person’s forearm the damage had already been done. The soft pads of their fingertips grazed my cheek and energy started pouring into my body. I caught a glimpse of a childhood memory before a scream rang out from one of the other makeup artists.

“Goddammit, someone wheel her out or something and go get some water, I don’t need any more fainting. Did no one get the memo that you can’t touch her unprotected?” I was still trying to recover from absorbing an entire person’s life when, now gloved, hands started to touch my face and add makeup.

“Is she dead?” I ask, my voice slightly wobbly, as someone starts putting blush on my cheekbones with a slight shake in their hand. I hadn’t absorbed someone in a while so it was like a huge kick to my system - then the realization set in. Great another death. Not my fault, but even after all the years of telling myself that it’s not my fault I could still feel that spark of greed. To just keep taking and taking and-

“Yes but we had them all sign a waver now wait where the hell is the other girl? Claire? Claire!” Courtenay went off into the shadows as someone thrust a garment bag into my arms when my face was finished getting touched up.

“Change into this.” I nodded but before walking over to one of the changing stalls. I sneaked a look at my makeup - not bad. After I slipped on the turtleneck and slightly oversized cream suit, I grabbed the Vought pills. Another one couldn’t hurt right? The itch had come back from last night and no more accidental deaths would be good.

I popped one of the neon green pills and smiled at myself in the mirror. Time to be a hero.

“Hey Andre!” I shouted over to where he was talking to his dad, a relieved smile overcame his face even if his eyes were still filled with a clear dark emptiness.

“Wow Victoria Oaks. I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been? How’s your dad?”

“Hi Mr. Anderson. It’s good to see you. Dad’s doing well, I’ll be sure to get him to call you soon.”

“Yes please do. I’ll leave you two to talk.” He sent a wink to Andre before taking out his phone and walking out of the studio.

“Everything okay? I know how he can get.” I asked Andre, giving him a slight reassuring pat on his arm.

“Yeah, yeah we’re fine. Umm actually could-”

Before Andre could get on with his admission our little conversation was interrupted by the opening of heavy doors and Marie walking in - where she was immediately swarmed by Courtenay.

I felt a wave of sympathy rush through me, Andre and I had been in the public sphere ever since we were children. We knew who was trying to hustle us and what exactly we needed to do to get higher ratings but Marie was totally new to this.

“Uh sorry what were you saying?” I snap out of my little daydream and look over to Andre who was also starring over to where Marie was being handed the interview script.

“Just that uh… Luke, he said something to me before he you know,” I smiled sympathetically at him and nodded slightly urging him to continue. “Basically he said that my dad had something, but just now when I asked him he looked at me like I was insane.”

“You mean that-”

“Everyone quickly, places please.”

“We’ll talk later!” Andre nodded at me as I jogged up the steps and started to pose for my solo pictures. Andre watched on until Marie joined him after getting changed into a frankly stunning outfit.

About an hour later we were finally released from the clutches of Courtenay Fourtney - with a promise to be on time for the interview that night.

The three of us walked between the trailers, Marie with her hands clutching her backpack like a lifeline, Andre vaping and me taking bites of a random cupcake I had stolen from the tiny craft service table.

As we walked I could hear the shutters of people’s cameras, we posed for a few selfies and I blew some kisses to some of the cameras.

“One thing I’ve already learned, you can literally say anything to them and they will still take the picture.”

“That’s why you say yes to give the illusion of choice.” Andre answers with a slightly bored tone, I hum in agreement next to him as I take another bite of the strawberry frosting. This was a damn good cupcake.

“Did you learn that from your dad?”

“Did Luke say something to you about my dad?” Andre stuttered out and my interest suddenly peaked, we hadn’t gotten a chance to discuss what he told me right before the shoot.

“He just said ‘The Woods’.” A strange chill traveled along my spine when Marie’s mouth finished forming the words, they seemed strangely familiar but also foreign. I tune back into the conversation as Andre tells Marie what he told me before the photoshoot.

“Well good luck with that.” I finish my strawberry cupcake and look back at Marie with an incredulous expression obviously painted on my face.

“Marie? What? That’s it.”

“Look I don’t see how this involves me okay? I went out with you guys once, I don’t know you.”

“Marie, that's a flimsy excuse, come on. I barely knew Luke-”

“Exactly, you don’t need to get involved with this either Vic. He tried to kill us, remember?”

It’s not like I didn’t understand where Marie was coming from but this was important. A person killed himself right in front of us and she’s acting like it isn’t her problem. I let out a sigh of indignation.

“Andre, look let’s not push her into this, okay?” He looked at me slightly betrayed before looking back at Marie.

“Marie, I don’t think you get this. He’s dead. I guess you don’t have any problem stepping over him to get to the top.” I let out a soft gasp at Andre’s words, ok that was taking it a little too far but before I could rebuke him, Marie narrowed her eyes and spoke with a much angrier tone.

“That shit at the club, where you nearly killed that girl. I was going to get expelled for that, did you know that?”

“Of course not, I didn’t ask for that.”

“No you didn’t. You just get everything handed to you on a silver platter, because of your dads.” She shifted her face so she was now staring into my eyes, “Everyone knows who you are and are ready to cover for their precious supes, I don’t have shit. So don’t blame me when I try to have at least a little self preservation.”

I was about to call out to her when she started walking away from us but something stopped me. I wonder sometimes what would have happened if my dad wasn’t my dad and I had these powers. I probably would have ended up in one of those orphanages for dangerous supes. A shudder once again runs through my body - I had heard enough horrible things about those places to know how grateful I should be.

“So are you going to help at least?” Andre asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“Am I your friend?” Andre’s signature smile graced his face in return to my sarcastic remark and he linked arms with mine.

“You headed for crimefighting as well?”

“Yup, I got an update to my schedule during the shoot. I’ll be joining you in the junior class.”

“How did you manage that?” Andre asked as we posed for a few more selfies before heading through the large doors.

“No idea, but I’m sure it was dad. He texted, no, his PA texted right after the change.”

“Venice still around?”

“What? Oh no, she was like 5 PAs ago. Have we really not talked in that long?”

“I guess so, scary thoughts.” I snorted at his remark when we finally arrived at the junior crimefighters class. He dramatically pulled the door open for me. “Age before beauty.”

“That comment makes zero sense, I’m literally younger than you.”

“Exactly.” A loud and offended gasp left my mouth when I finally stepped into the class.

“Rude. Hey Jordan.” She seemed to shake out of their daydream when they looked up at us from her seat.

“Oh hey guys. Didn’t realize you were taking this class Vic.” I took a seat next to her and Andre sat down to my right after shooing off one of the other juniors.

“My dad made some calls supposedly?” They just narrowed their eyes and nodded at me.

“Right.” The flirty Jordan from last night was nowhere to be seen and I could quite palpably feel that the air around her felt heavier than normal. It was like a storm was brewing on the horizon.

“Jordan, look - I’m really sorry about Brink. I’ve only ever met him at some random premieres and book signings so I… I- fuck I’m not good with the whole emotions thing but if you ever need anything…”

Jordan after the end of my long spiel of stuttered phrases looked honestly really surprised. I cringed, emotions are not a thing that was ever promoted around supes. We were made of steel. But I felt like I needed to say something but before she could answer, either to rebuke my speech or to say thanks. The dean Indira Shetty walked into the room and smiled at us.

“Professor Brinkeroff died the same way he taught: a hero…” I spent the entirety of her speech switching between staring at my gloves and at Jordan. Their left hand nervously tapped against the plastic table. I was drawn out of my, admittedly a little creepy, staring by the door loudly opening. Everyone in the classroom turned to look at who had appeared in the middle of the dean’s speech. It was Marie.

“Hi sorry I’m late.”

“I’m Dean Shetty. It’s a pleasure to meet you, please take a seat. We’re letting Ms. Moreau and Ms. Oaks audit the junior-year classes. What you and Andre did, it’s obvious you belonged here.”

A pang of discomfort hit me like a freight train, I knew being a supe meant exploiting what you can to get to the top but it still felt horrible. I closed my eyes and willed myself to focus for the rest of the class.

I stayed behind after class to make sure that I would be able to be caught up with the material, Dean Shetty seemed more than accommodating and actually gave me a list of further reading I might be interested in for superhero psychology.

I was busy organizing the new papers and my laptop, that I didn’t realize I had bumped into Jordan until I had pain radiating around my shoulder where we collided.

“Shit sorry, we really need to stop meeting like this.” I said when I finally met his eyes.

“It’s uh fine. Look, I just wanted to say thanks for that in there.” A sigh of relief escaped my body, okay great they weren’t angry at me.

“It was nothing really. I did mean it though if you need anything at all don’t be too scared to ask.”

“Actually… if you wouldn’t mind could you tell them what I did when you have your interview with Hailey Miller. I would really fucking appreciate it. I tried talking to Marie but honestly I don’t know if she will do it and my rankings are all fucked right now cause of the trustees.” My eyebrows shot up, I didn’t have time to look over the script so I thought that they were going to at least be mentioned. Quickly fishing out my phone, I scrolled through all the news coverage Godolkin was getting. Not a single fucking mention of Jordan.

“Shit yeah of course. I haven’t really checked the script or the news I thought that… wow Vought really fucking sucks more than I already thought they did.” Jordan lets out a slightly defeated laugh and runs a hand through their hair.

“So you’ll do it?”

“Yeah sure, I usually wing these interviews anyway. It’s fun to see my dad’s PR people become all frantic when I say something slightly off script. That’s actually how I came out as pan.”

“Oh fuck right, I remember that. It was all over the news. Those fucking headlines oh my god.”

We both started laughing as I remembered the insane things the gossip papers printed. I had always had a rule of not searching myself up online but that whole thing basically stopped me from looking at any news altogether.

Jordan and I walked over to the cafeteria, falling into an easy conversation, almost as if we had known each other for forever. It was like we were surrounded by a sort of bubble, all of our issues and grief seemed to dissipate for a while when we just got to talk about everything and anything.

After spending the day going to classes, talking to Andre and Jordan and working through some of the reading the dean recommended, I emerged from my studies to find my phone blowing up from some random freshmen group chat I had been added to.

Quickly silencing the messages I didn’t bother to knock as I burst into my dorm room with a heavy sigh. Only to find 2 Emmas lying on Gemma’s bed. One of the Emmas seemed to have been furiously crying because her eyes were rimmed with red and the other was holding her tightly. They sprang apart the second they heard the door open and the one that had been crying looked between me and the other Emma with a surprised look on her face.

“Hey? Umm you okay Emma?” I asked, venturing a guess as to who had actually been crying.

“Uh yeah. Umm sorry is this weird? It’s definitely weird. I’m just going to-”

“Woah, Emma relax. Vic is like the least judgemental person ever right?” Emma shifted into Gemma a second later and looked at me with a pleading look on her face. Emma slowly sat back down on the bed and watched me, as if calculating the easiest way to get out of the dorm.

“Yeah, look I don’t know what happened. But whoever made you feel like this can instantly be dead, you just need to ask.” Emma let out a deprecating snuffle while I started to take off my gloves, when she realized what I was doing her eyes widened comically.

“No, no! It’s okay, no need to kill anyone.”

“You sure? Cause there was already an incident today…” I answered in a teasing tone and made a whole show of twisting my now ungloved hands in an overdramatized fashion.

“Yeah please don’t kill anyone for me. I’m guessing you haven’t seen the video then?” Ah the group chat blow up must have been associated with whatever Emma was talking about.

“Uh no?”

“Somehow it astonishes me how famous you are and yet you have absolutely no clue about current events.” Gemma says as she tosses herself back against her assortment of pillows. Seeing as there was no more danger of Emma flying out of the room, I stepped away from the door and threw my now cramped bag onto my bed and settled into the bean bag that Gemma kept on her side of the room.

“Here I would rather you just see for yourself instead of me explaining it.” Emma tossed me her phone as I pulled my gloves back on. Over the next few minutes, my heart sank lower and lower in my body. Who the fuck did this girl think she is?

When the video finally finished I looked up to the pair, who were now entwined in a position very similar to the one I had found them in. A too wide smile started to adorn my face.

“Are you sure I can't just kill her half way?” They both snorted even if they did look a little scared about the expression on my face.

“Look for real though, Emma I’m really fucking sorry about it all coming out like this. It should have been on your own terms or not at all. Either fucking way you are a badass and never ever let anyone think you are less than what you are, okay?”

“Aww you guys are going to make me start crying.” Emma stuttered out as tears started trickling down her cheeks, a grateful smile shone through - like a literal ray of sunshine had entered the room.

I started making my way to the interview way later than I probably should have but friends mattered more than stupid tv appearances, even if I had promised Jordan. Strangely enough I saw Andre a little ahead of me before he stopped and turned to look at the Lamplighter School. Tilting my head in question, I watched as he debated with himself for a second before walking towards the doors.

My interest peaked so I decided to follow him… it’s not like they could start the interview without two of the three ‘Guardians of Godolkin’ - okay yeah that was a shitty name. I followed behind Andre as quietly as I could until suddenly he stopped. Right in the middle of a hallway.

A second later he swiveled around and used his power to grab any of the metal that was embedded into the material of my clothes and pulled me towards him.

“Woah woah, Andre dude it’s just me.” I said before he could pull me too far, I walked out into the harshly lit corridor with my hands held up in an innocent gesture.

“Fucking hell. Victoria, what the hell are you doing here?” He asked hurriedly, sounding incredibly annoyed.

“I don’t know maybe if you bothered telling me why the hell you are sneaking into the fucking crimefighting school I wouldn’t be so suspicious!” I responded in the same harsh whispered tone.

“Ok fine you’re right. Come on, I'll explain on the way.” As we wandered through the hallways Andre showed me the video that he found on Luke’s phone, as I heard more and more of the message the same eerie feeling spread through my bones.

“I know what he’s talking about.” We had arrived at Brink’s door when the message stopped playing and I handed Andre back his phone.

“What?”

“I don’t know it’s like this feeling. All I know is that it’s bad, really bad.” Andre looked at me with a slightly worried look on his face.

“You don’t think that…”

“Fuck I don’t know Andre. Vought has been up to some weird stuff but I remember my life at least I think I do… you know what, let’s not worry about that now. Let’s figure out how to get his brother the hell out of there.”

I felt like I was in some kind of spy movie as Andre quickly navigated Brink’s computer to pull up the files from The Woods. I had been assigned to look out so I stayed closer to the door until I started to hear the loud footsteps of the school’s campus security.

“Andre hurry the fuck up!” I slid under the desk and squeezed myself into a ball to allow Andre to hide under it as well, but he stayed up there quickly taking photos. In the last second, just as the door swung open he dropped down under the desk and silently closed the computer with his powers.

I could hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears as the security swarmed into the room, it felt like every breath I let out would attract their attraction and then Andre’s phone rang… he tried to turn it off but everytime he declined the call it just lit up again.

He looked at me pleadingly as I watched him, feeling absolutely frantic. This is bad. This is very very bad. Thank whatever god was out there that his phone turned off. I was about to let out a loud sigh of relief when I realized they were all still here. We weren’t out of the woods yet.

After another minute of tense silence the security team left with a click of the door and my entire body relaxed onto the side of the desk. The curdled up position was already starting to hurt my back when Andre looked at me, echoing my relief.

“Fuck that was close.”

“Too close… you want to follow them don’t you?” Andre just shrugged with a sheepish smile, I let out a breath through my teeth and banged my head against the side of the desk for good measure.

“Fine, okay. We should probably go now.”

“Right yup.”

Andre and I tried to be as quiet as possible as we followed the security team through the grounds. Thankfully we had actually been training for this our entire lives… to be clear we trained to follow criminals not Vought security employees but with all this new information they might as well be the same thing.

The team finally came to a stop at the bottom of a stairwell, I leaned carefully over the railing making sure that I wasn’t too easily seen when a janitor appeared. Oh that’s not going to end well.

It seemed like my prediction ended up ringing true because a few seconds later the man was on the floor. Throat slit open and blood pooling around him. Andre let out a sharp gasp while I just bit my bottom lip - not letting any sound come out.

Andre’s slip up cost us, the murderer looked up from his task and we moved quickly away from the stairwell.

“Let’s go, Greg will clean up later.”

We both let out a sigh of relief, this night was probably doing horrible things to my blood pressure… did supes even have high blood pressure? Before I could finish whatever strange train of thought my stressed out brain decided to conjure, a security guard came up behind us.

Andre quickly shoved his gun into the wall as I tried to tug off my gloves but before they were even half way down my palms, a piercing wail seemed to drill into my brain.

“AHHH.” The ringing caused me to clutch my head in agony, my face scrunched up in pure and utter pain. I ended up falling backwards on the stairwell as the sound just seemed to get louder and louder and louder.

“Did you know supes have a wider range of hearing than us? Like dogs.” The man’s condescending little voice was the only thing that seemed to stop the utter pain of the ringing. Fuck.

“Hey Bob! Turn it off.” I was too busy feeling like my brain was leaking out of my ears to pay attention to the distant voice that had suddenly appeared. And then it stopped. Sweet, beautiful, wonderful relief.

It was serenely quiet for a second or so before I finally got my bearings again. When I looked up I found Cate instigating what seemed to be flashlight oral sex…? What the actual fuck. I carefully got up by gripping onto one of the metal railings.

“Oh god Cate my savior.” The blonde turned to look at the pair of us with a smile on her face which instantly dropped as she tried to get down the stairs.

“Andre… Vic. We- we need to go.”

“Cate! Cate! Your eye! You’ve been pushing too much.”

“I’m fine… I’m fine.” That was the moment that she fainted, she fell right into my arms and Andre’s. We carefully placed her on the floor and I ripped off my sweater, placing it under her head as she convulsed.

“Shit, shit, shit. Cate! Cate!”

“CATE!” I screamed out as I moved the bundle of clothing under her head but she didn’t stop convulsing. She couldn’t stop.

so yeah... hints at trauma and shit from vic's past - do be easy on her tho she has gone through enough accidental deaths to basically be desensitized at this point. ALSO I wanted to focus more on her supe side this chapter, hopefully that shone through cause like most other supes she has an ego the size of a planet lol - that's partially why she followed andre at the end instead of doing the interview

it's also funny to me that this poor girl has absolutely no idea what is going on with anyone else's backstory like the audience or the reader in this case knows more about everyone than she does

lmk what u think <3

taglist: @neapolitantoebeans @scorchedfangirl @losers-club6 @vvyuqi @bubblebuttwade

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