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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

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Of Kings and Beasts - Eight

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff,

Word Count: 3.6K

A/n: I’m alive! I know, it’s been like 4 months. I honestly didn't know how to ‘come back’ so this is it. I’ll be answering asks and messages tonight, but things are going okay. I work 54 hours a week so I’m not writing as much as I’d like to but I’m trying!!! I love you all so much, and I hope you enjoy this!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

The doctor lies unmoving on a medical cot, stitches across his throat to close the gouge that was meant to end his life.

“Do we have any idea who is behind this? Or why?” Steve asks quietly, eyes darting between his most trusted man and his husband.

“I do not know who is behind it, but I think they are aware that we know.” Steve’s brows pull together at his husband’s words, and he waits for him to continue.

James huffs out a deep breath, glancing around the small room as if checking for any listening ears.

“Doctor Banner found an incision on the base of my skull. Someone has performed an operation on me without my knowing. I’m assuming the Doctor found something out, and while on his way to find me he was ambushed.”

Steve’s still stuck on the fact that his husband has been tampered with.

“What do you mean someone performed an operation on you?” James shakes his head. “I’m not sure what they did, but I have reason to believe that it is why I have been so hostile towards... our wife.” He fears saying your name. He doesn’t want anything to trigger the beast.

“How long have you known this?” Steve demands, angry that James would keep something like this from him.

“Since the day she went out into the snow. I was not sure who I could trust. I still know not. But one thing is certain: someone means to kill our wife and destroy our marriage, and it is someone close to us.” Regret instantly fills the blond king and he excuses himself without another word, head swarming with thoughts that include nothing but pain and punishment.

His feet take him down the spiral staircase, his hands wrenching open the cell door and grabbing the prisoner by his collar.

“Who is it that sent you?! Tell me! Now!” The man is confused for a moment before a yellow-toothed grin splits his face.

“You will tell me now!” Steve pulls his fist back and slams it against the man’s face, but the prisoner only laughs manically.

“Who is it that intends on hurting my wife? On ruining my marriage?” The man shakes his head, blood dribbling down his chin.

“The only one who ruins your marriage and hurts your wife is you, your majesty. But from what I hear through the walls, your bloodline ends with you. The great Kings of the West will be nothing more than fairytales. Their whore wife, a forgotten name. And that will be your doing.” Steve’s vision clouds and he unleashes his fury upon the prisoner, beating him to a bloody pulp until his face is hardly visible.

The King stumbles back, chest heaving and fists covered in blood, while the man slumps to the floor, wheezing and gasping.

“Cut off one head... two more shall take its place,” is the last thing the man utters before collapsing in a pool of his own blood.

Steve stands there, furious and dumbfounded. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize he isn’t alone anymore until a cool hand is on his shoulder, turning him around.

“What happened?” James asks, his eyes on the dead man on the floor and then on his husband’s bloody fists.

“Your assumption is correct. Someone has orchestrated this and we are being toyed with. Where’s (Y/n)?” The mention of your name has James squeezing his eyes shut as the beast bares its fangs.

“I know not. But you haven’t time for that. Thor and Anthony should be here within the hour. You need to make yourself presentable. We will tell them of our problem and see if they can offer any assistance.” Steve doesn’t want to meet with the other Kings. No, he wants to find you and get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, of which you may or may not grant, but he’s willing to beg and plead in front of his entire kingdom if he needs to.

“Come on. Let’s go get you cleaned up.” James ushers the blond out of the dungeon and to his chambers, his mind racing as he tries to piece the mystery together.

~*~

Your eyes trace over the trails etched in the book in your grasp, trying desperately to memorize them.

You’re so engaged in your reading that you don’t notice the man in front of you until you’re walking into him.

“Oh!” You stumble back, the book falling from your grasp as you lose your footing. The man is quick and grabs you around the waist to prevent you from falling.

“I am very sorry, Your Majesty. You must forgive me, for I was not paying attention to where I was walking.” The man has a deep, booming voice, his accent different than the ones you’re used to.

“It’s quite alright. I was hardly paying attention myself.” You look up at him and your eyebrows raise.

He’s an absolute Adonis of a man.

With beautifully kind blue eyes, a warm and inviting smile, and long locks of blond hair that are pulled back into a half-bun.

“It must be an interesting story that you were reading then?” He questions, hand dropping from around your waist as he stoops down to pick up your book.

“You could say that.” You’re nervous. You know not who this man is nor where his allegiance lies.

“This is a book of maps. Have you a journey planned?” He seems just genuinely curious but you’re defensive nonetheless.

“Might I ask who you are and why you need to know?” He raises his brows then chuckles.

“I suppose we have not been introduced, although I have heard many things about you. I am King Thor, of Asgard. And you are Queen (Y/n). Born of Orlen but wed in Acadia. The Kings eagerly awaited your arrival, I must say. And you are every bit as beautiful as they said.”

You shake your head bashfully.

“May I know where your journey will take you? It will remain a secret between the two of us. You have my word.” You ponder this for a moment, but he looks so kind and so genuine, you can’t stop yourself from telling him.

“Well if you must know, I’m leaving.” He huffs a breath of surprise.

“Leaving? But for what purpose? You are a queen.”

You laugh softly at that, the tugging up of your cheeks making your cuts burn.

“A queen, yet I am treated like a prisoner. You must forgive me for speaking so plainly in your presence, but I fear that I have lost any sense of... propriety in this place. My husbands may have spoken highly of me, but that was before they met me, I suppose. Now... I am nothing more than a thorn in their sides.”

Thor shakes his head, not believing a word coming from your mouth.

“That cannot be.” You sigh heavily and tug the collar of your gown down, showing him the dark bruises around your neck.

“From his Majesty, King James. And King Steven gave me these.” You show him the bruises on your arms next.

He’s absolutely appalled.

“And I assume they are the ones responsible for these?” One of his warm fingers traces across the marks on your cheeks and you nod.

“I do not blame you for wanting to leave. You must feel stifled.” You nod, taking his outstretched arm and allowing him to lead you down the hallway.

“It... has not been an easy transition. I have not even seen my kingdom yet. I know not what it has to offer nor if it is thriving. I have not met my people or even seen my lands. This place is supposed to be home to me, but it is no more than a prison with hot water and soft sheets.”

Thor’s quiet for a long moment and you regret every speaking. Just as you’re about to tug free from his grip and lock yourself back in your chambers, he turns to you.

“We cannot simply allow you to not know what your kingdom has to offer! I am making it my duty to show you the beauties of Acadia.” Your eyebrows raise.

“But surely you’re here on business? You mustn’t have time for something as tedious as that.” He takes your hand and brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. “A chance to get to know the Queen? Show her that her Kingdom is not all bad? That is not tedious. The Kings can wait. They have Anthony. I will take you through the Kingdom and show you all that there is to see.”

~*~

Thor is true to his word and shows you every nook and cranny in the Kingdom. From the poorest parts to the wealthiest.

“This is the village orphanage. I often come to volunteer my time, however business has kept me away for far longer than I’d like to admit.” You pull your cloak tighter around yourself at the biting chill of the wind, a frown on your face as you look at the run-down building.

“Do the kings not know the ruins of their Kingdom? Surely something can be done to fix this building. The children must be freezing.” You’re reminded of your own experience in the cold confines of the north tower in Orlen. The small chamber you were locked in whenever your adoptive mother did not want to see you.

“The Kings often busy themselves with their work. They are conquerors. They have not the time for such trivial tasks. It would be the duty of a queen to fix the Kingdom, here at least. They are my friends, and they are good at taking, however it seems they know little of giving back.” You nod at this, knowing firsthand how much they can take and not give back.

“I wish I had known that the kingdom was in such ruins. I would have made it my priority.” He looks at you for a long moment, wondering what on Earth could cause the Kings to treat you so poorly.

“If you would like, I can help you to arrange some repairs? Perhaps we can make it your project? Have you in charge of it. It could be your first official duty as Queen.” You smile but shake your head sadly, turning away from the orphanage and back towards your horses.

“I doubt the Kings would approve of something like that. I’m sure I will have their wrath to face for having kept you from your business for so long. I fear what they will do to me, if I am quite honest with you. Steven was lovely before but... he has... I know not how to explain it.” Thor comes up behind you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I will ensure that they do not bring any more harm to you, Petal. You have endured far more than should be expected of you. You have little to gain, and yet you remain here for them.” You shrug, walking with him to your horses.

“My situation were I to leave would not be very different. I have nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I am alone both in the Kingdom and outside of it.” Thor hates the truth behind your words.

“Come, let’s get you back to the Palace before you catch your death.” He helps you up onto the horse then gets on his, mind full of everything you’ve told him and all that he needs to discuss with the Kings.

~*~

He walks you to your chambers, having told Wanda to draw a warm bath for you. As he reaches the wooden door, he pauses and smiles warmly at you.

“I very much enjoyed our time today, Your Majesty. I hope to spend more time with you during my stay. But unfortunately, I must go.”

As he’s turning to leave, a voice calls your name. The way you stiffen has Thor grinding his teeth together in frustration.

“Your Majesty,” you greet, bowing your head to your husband while your hand inches to your door.

“May I speak with you? Please?” You open your mouth to reply but Thor cuts you off.

“Actually, Steven, I believe you and I have matters of our own.” And just like that, The booming blond ushers your husband down the hallway. Steve’s blue eyes stay on you, his head turned to look over his shoulder as much as he can until they round the corner and render you out of sight.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and enter your bedroom, smiling tightly at Wanda as she helps you into your bath.

~*~

“You were with (Y/n) all day?” Thor shrugs, “would it matter if I was? It seems that I am the only friend she has.” Steve grinds his teeth together but huffs a breath out through his nose.

“I understand that I have been unfair, but all I want is to make things better between the two of us.”

Thor shakes his head, thick arms crossed over his broad chest as he looks between the two kings. “That can wait. What is it that you needed to discuss with me so urgently?”

Steve sighs and looks over at James as if trying to figure out where to begin.

“We believe that someone is trying to sabotage our marriage to break us apart and overthrow our rule. And it must be someone close to us. James has been... tampered with. And I was made to question the loyalties of my own wife. My anger and haste for answers have... brought forth a beast I had hoped to keep hidden from her. And I fear I have played my part in the sabotage of my marriage.” Thor thinks about how helpless you sounded, how absolutely broken down you seemed and can’t help but agree with Steve’s words.

“If someone is plotting to overthrow your rule, they must be close. Close enough to know of any decisions being made. It would be wise to deceive them.” James furrows his brows in confusion. “Make it seem as if they are winning. Send away your wife and tell no one the truth.”

Steve’s shocked at the suggestion.

“Send her away? To where? And with whom? We cannot very well abandon her when people mean to kill her!” Thor purses his lips for a moment before smiling.

“She won’t be alone.”

The other two Kings stare at him as if he’s grown a second head.

“You mean to stay with her? And protect her?”

“Your wife is a spitfire, that much I can tell. She may come across as a woman of few words, but she has a raging soul that cannot be so easily tamed. She wishes to leave you, plans to.”

James’ shoulders cave and Steve’s face crumbles.

“She told you this?” The brunet asks, voice hoarse and weak.

“Not in so many words, but the desire is there. She is unhappy. If she would agree, I would take her to Asgard to be a wife of my own, however, her heart is loyal to Acadia.” The two kings each glare at the big blond man, angry at the very thought of someone taking their wife from them.

Thor continues, unbothered by their anger.

“Which is why she should be sent away. I have a cottage at the border of Asgard and Acadia. My men will be around and you can send men of your own. I will stay with her until she is comfortable and then I will take my leave, but for her safety and her sanity, she must leave the Palace.”

The silence in the room hangs heavily over all three men for a long while before Steve nods.

“Very well. If it is truly in her best interests, then fine. But I will not shun her without giving her a proper explanation.” Thor bows his head as Steve rushes past him, heading towards your chambers.

He knocks once then slowly pushes the door open, desperate to see you and grovel at your feet.

You’re seated on your bed, a book in hand and a shocked expression on your face.

“Your Majesty,” you greet softly, bowing your head.

“No, (Y/n) none of that. I was... out of line. I will never be able to apologize enough for everything I have done to you.” You say nothing but your heart hurts at the fact that Thor clearly told him something.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Your Majesty,” you say stiffly, moving your gaze back down to the book in your lap.

He sits on the edge of your bed, his eyes on the scratches decorating your delicate face.

“We have been unkind and unfair to you, my darling. I hope that one day you will forgive us, but until then, there is something we must discuss.” You have no idea where this conversation could be going, and that thought alone scares you.

“You will be leaving tonight.”

Your face must display the confusion and fear you feel at his words because he’s quick to clarify.

“Joining Thor and staying in a cottage where our kingdoms border. There are people here, people close to myself and James that wish to do you harm.” He takes your hand gently between both of his and presses a soft kiss to your fingers.

“It pains me to do it, but I know you need it as well. You’ve been deprived here. No friends and no family. We’ve treated you terribly and not as Queen should be treated." You keep your eyes cast down towards your lap, unable to bear seeing the King so distraught in front of you.

He sniffles and places another kiss to the back of your hand.

“I hope that you will return soon, but if you must take time then I understand. When you do decide you are ready to return, we will both be waiting with open arms.” He pauses for another moment before speaking again, his voice softer than before.

“I had hoped that James would join me but he... he is not well. But he misses you dearly, of that I am certain. The days will darken with your departure.” He presses another kiss to your knuckles then slowly rises to his feet.

“No one is to know the true reason for your departure. You mustn't tell anyone, for I fear you will not be safe if you do. Can you promise me that?” He asks, his eyes full of desperation and sorrow.

“Yes, your majesty.” His heart cracks at the fact that you’re still not addressing him by his name, but he realizes it will take time for the bond to be rebuilt between the two of you.

“Wanda will pack your things then you will be met by Thor and he will take you somewhere safe.” He cups your cheek gently, sniffling and trying to fight tears.

“I am so very sorry that your own home is a place that causes you pain.” With that, he turns on his heel and exits your chambers without so much as another glance, the pain he’s feeling evident in the tightness of his shoulders and the stiffness of his walk.

It’s not five minutes later when Thor is at the door to your chambers, sliding a thick wool cloak over your shoulders and pulling the hood up to cover your face.

“Just a precaution, Your Majesty. And the wind has a bit of a bite to it. But a carriage is waiting.” You nod your understanding and follow him silently out of the palace that has been no more than a prison to you.

Steve and James watch from separate windows as you climb into the carriage, not sparing a single glance back at the palace. But they cannot find it in themselves to blame you. What you have been forced to endure is far worse than anyone should have to. Especially someone as delicate as yourself.

A dark cloud falls over the kingdom as their queen is whisked away, brought to a safe haven that their kings couldn’t provide, by a man who is not even a member of their kingdom.

~*~

The journey to Thor’s cottage is a fairly quiet one, far too many thoughts racing in your mind and feelings in your heart.

“You are unhappy to be leaving the Palace?” Thor asks, confusion evident in his voice. You sigh heavily and shake your head, turning to look at him.

“It is a relief to be able to speak freely, however, I cannot help the guilt that I feel. It is my duty to do what the require of me, regardless of whether or not I enjoy it.” Thor shakes his head, a frown on his handsome face.

“No human should ever have to endure that. Regardless of their duties. You will not be shunned by the kings and even if you were, I’m sure Orlen would accept you back with open arms.”

You chuckle once, the sound dull and lacking humour.

“Orlen could not care any less about me if they tried. I’m not a princess to them. Merely the bastard of a King. One who was convenient to use in a trade agreement. My father would have me beheaded if he knew I was running from the kings.”

Thor is rendered speechless by this new information, his heart heavy for you, the delicate princess who deserves a far better fate than the one gifted to her.

#king!bucky #king!steve x reader #king!bucky/reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve/reader #royal!au #bucky x reader royal au #stucky x reader royal au #bucky x reader royal au #steve rogers dark au #bucky x reader dark au #Dark Series #Steve x reader dark au #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers/reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader

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sscarletvenus · 2 years

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jake x samuel >:)

SEOKIM? where do i even begin like they’re literally so perfect??! why be rivals to lovers when you can be rivals AND lovers! if the rivalry lasts this long maybe you should just kiss idk.

also as i have always said, jake definitely has texted sammy some version of the “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” like they’re simultaneously a comedy sitcom will-they-won’t-they pair who become the most annoyingly in love couple you’ll ever see by season 8, and lovers straight out of a horror tragedy where the crazy bastard rails the object closest to his obsession in order to assert dominance, not realising that the object is now horribly infatuated with him and he has ruined that object for life…

like why’re you as a man, fighting another man physically whenever you two meet? to feel his body or something?

ALSO they’re the lookism version of chengxian from mdzs dynamic (manic tsundere x silly flirt) whether you enjoy them romantically or platonically… do i need to say more?

#lookism #jake kim #kim gimyung #samuel seo #seo seongun #seokim #samuel x jake #anon asks #asks answered

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demonytekav · 3 years

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Few years after they graduate and the boys are living together, the class realizes that Deku is good at dealing with Kacchan. It was hard to notice at first until they noticed that Kacchan would stop being his ultra demon child self mid rampage due to Dekus interference. So they start sneakily calling Deku or alerting him wherever Kacchan started getting riled up. This prevents his hero image from getting damaged AND keeps any lawsuits or damage of property down….

Kacchan would be confused as fuck as to why Deku just shows up and cuts off his temper tantrums and it’s pissing him off to no end.

One of the ways Deku gets him to stop is to direct Kacchans anger at himself- “Kacchan, if you don’t stop I’m washing all the clothes together from now on. No separating them, I hope you don’t have any white shirts you care about.”

“The fuck you are bastard!” And Kacchan would get pissed at him and gripe but he’d stop harassing whoever it was, focus now on Deku who can and does handle him.

Using Kacchans ‘care’ against him. Threatening to eat take out all the time instead of Kacchans delicious food usually does the trick, but that one includes long complaints about wasting money and food already bought and paid for- plus how awful it is for his body. Not to mention the bitching and grumbling while the blonde does cook- or that it’s extra spicy. But it’s worth it in the end since the blonde demon doesn’t actually murder anyone.

“I swear I’ll leave the shower without drying off from now on If you don’t put that man down Kacchan” Deku says hands on his hips frowning at Kacchan who is shaking a whimpering obviously defeated villain.

“You get our floors wet and ruin ‘em Im going to gut you and shove your intestines down your throat asshole!” Kacchan drops his ‘victim’ and stalks over to Deku grabbing him by the collar roughly.

“Yeah yeah, I love you too Kacchan. It’s time to go home.” Smiles at the police who give Deku a nod of thanks as they run in to take the villain away. They had been hanging back as the raging blonde hero ranted and raved at the bad guy, keeping their distance as they knew interrupting caused chaos.

“Fuck you!” Kacchan Stomps off completely put off of harassing the villain he had captured. (They aren’t together yet so he’s embarrassed by the ‘I love you’ awwww)

Eventually the baku squad pisses him off one day reaaaaal bad and while he’s blowing “Dunce Face” up Kirishima panics and as usual secretly dials Deku. Hurriedly explaining where they were and that Kacchan is on the loose.

He squeaks in terror when the phone is ripped from his hand. “Whatcha doin there Shitty Hair? Calling your mommy to tell her you’re about to die?”

Kacchan cackles and sparks fly from his hand until he hears his name being called from the phone. He frowns and holds it up to his ear.

“Hah?! The fuck do you want nerd I’m busy murdering these assh-“ he cuts himself off before listening to whatever Deku has to say. Then his face morphs into a manic feral grin.

“S’that right?” He raises his eyebrows and smirks wider. “I’ll fucking be there in half that” and he ends the call before snarling at Kirishima.

“It’s your lucky day bastard,” he cackles. “I’ll let you live today but the next time you call Deku to save your ass I’ll be sure to mount your head on a pike in front of your agency, you got that? Good.” He tosses the phone uncaringly toward the red head and stomps out of the cafe.

Idk, I just think it would be funny to see Kacchan be ‘tamed’ by Deku and Deku only. And the entire world knows it. So they are all basically in on it whenever Kacchan starts getting out of hand. Kacchan would be pissed about it except he kinda likes it since Deku is around more and more (even though they live together) and eventually when they get to actually BEING together he gets good incentives to not go ultra raging devil spawn. But he puts up a good fight. Ain’t nobody gonna tell him how to be. He CHOOSES to listen to Deku okay? Okay.

#bakudeku #bkdk #idk this was hastily written down so it might not make sense #but I think it’d be funny #alternatively Kacchan being Dekus ‘stop letting yourself get too hurt you dipshit’ would be good too #they have tamed each other #well #not tamed #but you get what I mean #dekubaku

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sparxwrites · 3 years

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@manoessay replied to your post:

This post activated my brain harder than most so even though you arent gonna make a fanfic i will add, Dream testing how many times you can bring a person back on quackity once he gets out.

(i absolutely fully got possessed by this idea, and then wrote this self-indulgent and weirdly experimental fic feverishly at like 1am last night. this is... probably not what you were imagining, but it’s what fell out of my brain, so! enjoy? written to “innocence” by madeon.)

cw moderately graphic torture / gore, mental breakdown, mind games, temporary character death

[ao3]

“How many times have you died now, Quackity?”

The words flash hot through his skull, but don’t translate into meaning. Don’t translate into anything other than noise. The floor is cold beneath his palms. Russet-brown flakes up beneath his nails when he claws at it, chest heaving, lungs trying to remember how breathing works.

His first inhale gurgles, wetly, makes him jerk on his belly like a worm on a hook. His throat is raw from disuse, from screaming, from the sword that had sliced through his trachea like a knife through so much butter. When he tries to speak, the only thing that comes out is blood.

It goes like this, every time Dream drags him back from Limbo: his ears full of a high ringing, his lungs not working, his body numb. The link between flesh and brain is faulty, sparking wrong – like the battered neurons take a few precious minutes of life to rewire back together fully. It fixes itself a little less each time, the link; he’s permanently numb down most of his left side, now. The fingers on his right hand are going insensate in terrifying inches.

“How many times?”

Crooked mask, ragged voice, cracked porcelain smile. Dream looks better than Quackity feels, but not much – crouched low on a stone floor that’s caked in layer after layer of old blood, watching Quackity like a bug under a magnifying glass. His hair’s a greasy mess, his mask dirty-white and chipped, his clothes spattered with weeks of gore. With Quackity’s gore.

There’s blood dripping out from beneath the mask, though, fresh and hot. His hands shake. The knuckles clenched around the hilt of his sword are white, the skin beneath his fingernails faintly purple-blue.

The eyes behind the mask are just a little too green.

“Can you even hear me?” There’s a giddy slur to the edge of Dream’s words, the manic lilt of a man high off the same shit that’s melting his brain out through his nose. That feeling was familiar to Quackity, in another life. “Quackity. Hey, Quackity. Anyone in there?” He laughs, short and cruel and batshit crazy. His eyes are the colour of battery acid. “Have I finally broken you?”

There’s no response – because Quackity’s still trying to remember how his lungs work, remember what ribs are, remember how to do things that aren’t screaming and curling in on himself and rocking – and the amusement in his voice turns angry, sour. “I said tell me how many times, Quackity.”

Dream stands, unsteady, swaying as he does and leaning heavily on the sword for balance. His hands are still shaking. The blood’s stopped dripping, but there’s a sickly tinge to it, and when he wipes at his chin with the back of one hand it leaves a smear that’s more brown than red.

There’s a flicker of something, as his knuckles touch the half-inch of exposed face – dirty white light, bridging the gap between skin in a static-shock flash. There and then gone, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it.

The eyes behind the mask glow a little brighter. A little greener. A little less human.

The point of Dream’s sword sinks into Quackity’s shoulder, splits open an old scar. Quackity’s covered in them, now, more scar than skin. More ruined than not. He spasms, chokes, bleeds wet and red and fresh over the dried blood that carpets the floor. The noise he makes is animal, leg-in-a-bear-trap high and thin and dying. Barely alive five minutes, and he’s bleeding out again already. It’s almost funny.

Dream laughs, and leans on the pommel of the sword. It pushes in another inch.

“Month!” manages Quackity, forcing the word out through the wetness in his lungs, through the broken-bone grind of his throat. If he weren’t so many shattered parts, pasted back together by unholy power and Dream’s capricious whims, it might have been a howl. As it is, he barely has the energy to sob, the words raw and hoarse and threadbare. “A month, a month– thirty– haha, thirty-six days in, in, in Limbo, fuck, please, please–”

There’s wet on his cheeks. Tears? Blood? Worse? He can’t tell any more. He can’t even feel the left side of his face.

He grabs for Dream’s boots, presses his forehead against them, gasps for air that doesn’t seem to bring any relief from the cold ache in his lungs. One of his hands finds an ankle, a strip of bare skin between shoe and pant leg. Dream’s skin is fever-hot, sickly, bottled lightning gone past its sell-by date.

The shock of the contact knocks him silent for a second, though. They won’t touch him, in Limbo, the ghosts – or can’t, or both, can’t and won’t. Because they’re bastards, because they hate him, because he isn’t one of them. They can’t-won’t touch him, can’t see him, won’t see him, won’t speak to him– and he’s left, alone, in a room full of the faded impressions of people he once knew, once loved, once was loved by. A room full of people who do not see him, and do not touch him, and do not hear him when he talks.

(When he screams, when he swears at them, when he tries to claw their eyes out with unsteady hands that don’t make contact– when he begs, when he pleads, when he wheedles and bribes and bargains to deaf ears– when he wraps arms around himself, when he rocks himself back and forth until the blood rushes in his ears, when he whispers to himself until his voice fades to nothing, and tries to pretend it is the same thing as being loved and held and comforted–)

“Please, don’t– hahah, don’t kill me, fuck– please, look, look, hurt me, please, hurt me– anything, anything, I don’t–” He doesn’t have the breath for this. Doesn’t have the energy. Doesn’t even really have the words any more, after screaming for thirty-six fucking days straight, after talking to himself for so long his vocal cords wore out and left him mouthing silence in a desperate attempt to keep himself company. “Don’t, don’t send me– not, don’t send me back, please, fuck, anything, ha, haha, don’t, don’t–”

“I said I’d make you beg for death,” says Dream, amused, bored, manic. “Not torture. Not that I’m complaining. It’s just kind of funny. Don’t you think? I think it’s funny.”

He pushes the sword in, another inch. Quackity sobs, desperate and pathetic, and feels no shame for it. Presses his face to Dream’s boot, clings to his ankle like a lifeline, and feels no shame for it. Shame was beaten out of him, bled out of him, several lifetimes ago. “But that’s not what I asked, though. How many times have you died now, Quackity?”

The sword in his shoulder twists, and Quackity screams. Something severs with a pop, and then another, and then another, until the joint is little more than a hot ball of pain and wet meat, grated bone. Until he can no longer scream, gasping desperately through the pain, weeping like a child. Another twist, and something else severs, something vital, a second’s resistance before a give and a spray of warm blood.

He bleeds out between one sob and the next, tumbling into darkness, the golden net of the respawn reaching up to catch him as he falls.

He wakes up three feet away, sprawled out on the filthy bed that occupies one corner of his cell, still sobbing. The respawn clings to him like a second skin, like weights around his ankles, frightening and familiar all at once. It fades slowly, reluctantly; slower each time he dies, he thinks. Like it’s getting used to holding him. Like it doesn’t want to let him go.

It’s only barely gone by the time Dream crosses the space between them, two short steps, no time for him to flinch, no time for him to hide–

Dream grabs him by the wrist, wrenches his body up from the bed, and slots the sword neatly through the front of his throat. The broad, well-used scar carved across it parts for the blade like an old friend, swallows it whole – and Quackity dies for the second time in as many minutes, choking on his own blood.

The respawn catches him. Drags him down into darkness. Drags him back up to the surface of reality, deposits him back onto a bed now sodden with crimson. He’s shaking. He should be used to it, but he’s shaking so hard his teeth clack together, so hard he’s not sure it will ever stop.

Dream drags him off the bed, back onto the floor. Back onto the filth, the layers and layers of dried gore, a carpet constructed from every time he’s been slaughtered like an animal in this tiny, lightless cell.

“Dream,” he begs, quietly. “Dream, Dream–”

Even to his ears, it sounds more like a prayer than a plea.

“It’s a simple question, Quackity. How many times have you died now? Properly died. How many times have I brought you back? I just want a number. Just a number.” The mask obscures Dream’s mouth, but his grin is audible. His eyes are so bright, they hurt to look at. “How many times have I proven to you that I’m a god?”

Quackity tries to curl in on himself, but Dream is in the way, one boot by his shoulder and the other pinning his wrist to the floor beneath its toe. He’s not surprised. Dream is everywhere, always, omnipresent. His free hand seeks out Dream’s ankle onces more, curls around that curdled-lightning skin, desperate and needy. It grounds him, touching the only real person in his whole entire world, and he hates himself for it.

“…T- ten?” he tries, and knows as he says it that it’s wrong. The panic rises like the respawn, choking him. He can’t breathe. “Ten, ten times– maybe eleven– fuck, fuck, Dream, please–”

The sword-tip finds his back, finds the space between his fourth and fifth rib. Finds the ropy scar there, beneath the rags, soft from re-use – like a zipper, easy to pry open right down to his weak, wet heart.

“Good guess,” says Dream, quietly. “Closer than before. But still not right. You need a little longer to think about it, I guess. But– hey, you know what? I’ll be nice, and give you a hint.” He pauses, and Quackity’s world stands still. “You’re guessing too low.”

He pushes the sword down. It slips between Quackity’s ribs like an old lover, lodges in the crusted filth and stone below, pins him still against the floor. His heart beats once, twice, a butterfly-flutter around the diamond skewered through it. His body convulses. He falls still.

The blood from his mouth dyes the toes of Dream’s boots crimson, as the light leaves his eyes.

He wakes in Limbo, on his knees, in a room full of people – full of impressions of people, like the ghosts of a faded photograph. He sees them all there, their backs to him, as they move amongst one another, as they talk amongst one another. Tubbo, and Schlatt, and Fundy, and Wilbur, and–

Sapnap, who looks right through him. Karl, whose eyes skate over him. They hold each other’s hands. The rings on their fourth fingers gleam weakly in the strange, nebulous light of the afterlife. They do not hear him when he says their names, ragged and desperate, like a plea. Like a prayer.

And then they, too, turn their back on him. And Quackity – still raw, still bloody, still skewered open right through his butterfly heart – screams and screams and screams.

#manoessay #dream smp #quackity #dream #dsmp fic #dsmp tag #fic #to my ex-y*gs fans: say hello to dirty white source code light and weird respawn headcanons again!#something something stop fucking around with creative mode or the dirty white light will eat you from the inside out like a parasite #it wants to pour the entirety of the universe into your head until there's no space left for *you* in there any more #that's not something you dick around with just to ensure the guy who tortured you in prison is broken down into more animal than human #also i will not apologise for making quackity's limbo so fucking miserable #he's in a hell of his own creation lmao #hc that you get what you think you deserve in limbo lmao :3c #torture //

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emmawrxght · 2 years

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Tagging: Emma & Micah Wright

Timeframe: Evening of June 21st, beginning of the party

Location: Faerie Court

Notes: Emma and Micah have a spat when they meet for the first time, Micah spends the party as a beetle.

The last thing Emma remembered was watching the sunrise on her balcony. Her eyes drifted closed and when they reopened she didn’t know how many days it had been or how much time she’d lost now, but one thing she did know was that she was in the Otherworld. In the faerie court of all places. She looked down at her dress, the mask that adorned her face didn’t obscure her view in the slightest, in fact, it felt entirely natural. Like she’d been born with it, like it was a part of her.

“Fucking hell-” the voice came from beside her, it was one she knew, and yet had never heard in person before. Voice notes left over phones, recordings traded through childhood, when Emma looked to her right she saw Micah for the first time in the flesh. Dressed more crudely than she, the clothes he wore were a fine testament to his personality just as his mask mirrored her own.

“Micah…” she started, bewildered but glad to see that he smiled when he saw her.

“Emma-?” A beat passed and naturally, it was he that made the first move. “Emma!” Came the fond exclamation as her brother surged forward and embraced her. Emotion rose within her as she recounted all of the times that she’d gone to bed at night wishing to see her brother just one time, to know the person she shared half of her life with. Emory used to speak so highly of him, their mother too, but she’d never known him herself. His hair smelled like apples, and when her arms at last moved and she held him she wondered if this was what it was to feel safe, to feel loved.

“Micah-” her words were choked as she felt a sob heave in her chest, she didn’t know what magic brought her here but all at once she felt a river break within her as tears fell without a second thought. “Micah-” she breathed again as if the name itself was its own sort of charm.

“I’m here.” His arms were strong, stronger than she imagined, but his tone was kinder than she’d ever hoped. She thought he hated her, he’d been silent for so long.

“Micah, something's wrong.”

The party began to bloom around them as more and more guests started to arrive. As quickly as she could she tugged on her brother’s hand and led him to a room just off the grand hall, closing the door behind her.

“What do you mean?”

“With us. I’m losing time. Days. Weeks. I think… I don’t know, I might be sick or maybe the curse is getting worse”

“No, no, it’s-” he smiled again and Emma quickly realised that as pleasing as the smile was to the eye she didn’t like it. In fact, she recognized it. The smile was a capricious one. A treacherous one, and all at once the room began to feel small. “I was just… giving you some time off, I found these pills, they like, block magic I guess. I just… I take them and… I get to keep control, and you sleep.”

Again, the room felt too small now, like Micah was taking up every inch of space and she could feel him suffocating her. Months now she’d spent believing that she was dying, manic, crazy, crying - lucky to have a few uninterrupted nights in a row. She’d lost work, friends, and who knew what else. Their lives were already fractured, small, and now Micah was telling her that it was him. It wasn’t enough for him to have every day to himself, he had to take her nights from her too, half a life wasn’t enough for either of them so he just took what time she had for himself.

That smile remained fixed, though she could tell as the light in those green eyes wavered that he knew he’d done something wrong. Something catastrophic, what was he planning? To keep going on as if he wasn’t ruining her life, as if he wasn’t gaslighting her into an early grave? Messages he ignored for so long, he knew she was panicking and he did nothing to help her.

“Bastard.” She hissed. It was then that she felt it, power in her throat, fire in her veins. Emma felt stronger here than she ever had before, perhaps this was what it meant to be part fey and to dwell within the Otherworld. “I’ve done… I’ve done everything for you.” She realised then what a sham her life had been, countless years babysitting the older twin to make sure he had a comfortable lifestyle. She blamed herself for the fact they’d had to run away from home and for years she’d been trying to atone. “After everything I’ve done for you, I’ve washed your clothes, kept you fed, cleaned your vomit off of myself when you passed out in it and left me with the mess. Years you’ve ignored me, you let me believe I was dying, that I was sick, that there was something wrong with me.” She stepped in as power swelled, tendrils of gold enveloped her arms and lashed out at her surroundings, a chair turned to dust, a lamp burst into an array of butterflies.

“Listen Emma- I was going to tell you, I was, but I saw you were freaking out and it freaked me out. The pills, you can take them too, you know we can trade off?” Micah offered as he took a step back, eyes wide as he saw the faiman before him, his sister that was less capricious and more malicious. They’d had a deal, and Micah betrayed that relationship. “Just… just relax alright, this is a party, lets just find a drink, maybe, maybe our dad’s here-?”

“Shut up!” Emma interjected, “I’m tired of being your keeper. Yes, you’ll attend the party,” she snatched her brother by the throat as her power swelled, “but on my terms.” A flash of golden light overtook him and a beetle buzzed about before Emma grabbed it from the air. She transmuted a glass into a gilded cage and left the creature on a desk off of the grand hall. “I won’t take responsibility for you any longer, destroy your life if you must, but I refuse to be a casualty. I’ll find a way to break this curse, and let your own fate be damned.”

#event.masquerade #micah #emma #selfpara #micah shant be attending this event

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years

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Little Harbor - Beach Day Part 2

Thank you all for the lovely feedback on my writing so far, it means so much to me. I’ve decided that the Beach Day Imagine needed a Part 2 and spent last night manically writing 6.6k words of fluff, angst and semi smut.

In this part, Abby and the reader finally make their trip to Little Harbor and spend the night at the cabin there. The reader finds out they don’t know everything about Abby and there are some things in her past that still weigh heavily on her mind.

TW for death/loss (Seattle plot for the Salt Lake Squad), light nudity, language and mention of suicide and mention of blood

This ist the playlist I curated for this fic. Make sure you disable shuffle and listen to the songs in order for them to fit! (It’s called Little Harbor on Spotify and has a picture of Abby in the thumbnail)

Little Harbor

The last few days had been a blur of happiness and secrecy. Stolen kisses in empty hallways, sitting next to each other in the cafeteria with your knees touching, sunsets in the watchtower staircase, and sweaty hugs whenever you picked up Abby after her morning training. It was clear to you by now that there was no going back and no stopping this. You were absolutely, hopelessly falling for the tall blonde soldier and she actually seemed to feel the same, which was still unbelievable to you.

Abby had taken up work with some of the combat and strategy trainers, educating them on the different groups she had encountered on her journey and on their territory, tactics, and relationships with each other. Lev had come in to explain more about the Seraphites, their whistle language, and their infrastructure. Even though it was unlikely that the Seraphites or WLF would come knocking at the Fireflies’ door, they still wanted to know as much as possible about the current state of the world.

The Rattlers were a different story altogether. Lev refused to speak about them and even though Abby had told the Firefly leaders about them as soon as she was conscious after her emergency surgeries, there was still much to talk about. She tried as hard as she could to remember every little detail and she got incredibly frustrated with herself when she found gaps in her memory even though that wasn’t her fault. The torture and mistreatment at the hands of these bastards had been so immensely traumatizing that her mind refused to let her remember the worst parts.

While the past few days with her had been all fun and exciting, the evenings had been more difficult and it had taken a lot of strength from both of you to get through this together. Abby was just learning to confide in you and talk about her feelings while you struggled with being there for her the right way, having never experienced anything close to the terror she must have felt. After the first day in the strategy room, Abby had knocked on your door just as you were about to go to bed and practically fallen apart in your arms. The Fireflies had decided to send a few teams back to Santa Barbara to see if there were any survivors and capture or help the people they found, depending on their previous alliance. They had offered Abby to go back with them, which she declined, and made it clear that she had to try to identify every single person they brought back.

You just hoped that the only people left there were the other prisoners who had freed themselves. It would be horrifying to know that some of the torturers could soon be sitting somewhere in this very building, practically at arm’s reach from Abby and Lev.

Although the others had advised her not to, Abby had told Lev about all the plans and tasks to come and he had agreed to help identifying people but remained silent about his thoughts on all this.

Trying your best to make Abby’s first week as an official Firefly less hard on her, you had organized a mission for you both to go to Little Harbor. You were supposed to check up on the little cabin there, throw out anything that wasn’t necessary and stock it with a few supplies in case someone in the area needed them in the future. The best thing about Little Harbor was the beautiful beach that stretched in a perfect arc and had the most beautiful sunsets you had ever seen.

You had just talked to your friend in admin and gotten the confirmation for the mission. For a second, you debated telling Abby at lunch in an hour but you simply couldn’t wait. Rolling up the note with the assignment on it and shoving it in your back pocket, you rushed toward the east wing of the base, practically jumping with every step.

As you came closer to the strategy room, you heard muffled voices. There seemed to be a heated discussion. You really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you were already at the door and didn’t feel like you should knock and interrupt them in the middle of their conversation.

“Oh come on, Abby, what are you not telling us? You have to know more about her than that!”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know where they lived and I don’t know where she is now! I met them the first time at the WLF outpost in the middle of nowhere around Seattle and the last time I saw her she was in Santa Barbara. She’s probably dead, anyway, she was injured and all alone.”

She? Who were they talking about? Abby had never told you about a woman in Santa Barbara. Maybe another prisoner?

Someone slammed a hand on the table.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe we lost her again after all this time. At least we know Joel paid for what he did at Salt Lake.”

This sparked your attention. You knew Abby had grown up at the Salt Lake outpost before the massacre. Was Joel the guy who killed all the Fireflies there, including the doctors?

“What do you want with her anyway?” That was Abby again. She sounded bitter. “It’s not like we have the means to make a vaccine, Joel made sure of that. You’ll see what she did with the rattlers when you get there. Maybe you’ll find her body, too, and I can finally have some fucking peace.”

There was silence for a brief moment. Then a woman said: “Alright, let’s take a break. The teams are driving out to Santa Barbara tomorrow, then we’ll see what we find. Abby, thank you for everything you’ve told us. Take some time for yourself, I’ll call for you when the reports are in and hopefully a few survivors, too. I’ll see the rest of you after lunch.”

You could hear feet shuffling and chairs being pushed around. Quickly, you tiptoed away from the door and halfway through the corridor, then you turned around just as the door opened. Abby came out first, frowning and with her hands balled into firsts. When she saw you, her face lit up and she relaxed, taking a few big steps towards you and awkwardly coming to a halt in front of you, just a little bit too close.

“Perfect timing, huh?” She smiled at you before nodding to a few others that passed you.

You forced yourself to focus and smiled back.

“Yeah, I came to tell you that our mission is approved. We can leave as soon as possible.”

“Oh, that’s great! Martha just said I could have the day off and probably need to report back in tomorrow night earliest. Should we just pack now and get going after lunch?”

“Good idea. Say we meet in the cafeteria in 15?” you suggested.

Abby nodded. “See you there.”

As you packed your backpack, you tried to process what you had just heard. Abby knew the man who had run amok at the Firefly Hospital and apparently he was dead now. There had been another woman in Santa Barbara, and she had something to do with a possible vaccine? You knew the Fireflies had been extremely invested in the search for a vaccine after the outbreak, but they had given up on it a long time ago. Now they just tried to build safe zones without any infected in order to build communities of Fireflies, other survivors, and anyone else who wanted to join you.

Why were the others so keen on finding the other woman? What did Abby have to do with Joel and the massacre at the hospital? And why was this whole thing still affecting her so badly after all those years?

You wanted to try to talk to Abby later and find out what had gone down in Santa Barbara and at Salt Lake, but you also knew she had been waiting for this day to finally come so she could get out of here and distract herself for a while. Who were you to ruin this by forcing her to relive her trauma all over again?

Closing the zipper on your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder, you decided to just take it a step at a time. First, you had to get some food into your stomach.

Abby was excited about the trip and spent almost the whole meal asking you questions about the bay and the cabin. She told you she had spent some time in cabins up in Washington with her old WLF crew, but it had been snowing back then and the summer here was just an entirely different experience.

Lev was a bit sad he couldn’t go with you, but you promised him a beach bonfire in the next two weeks. He was way too happy about his new friends and tasks to sulk about your little duo mission. The boy was a fantastic archer and was now tasked with teaching his craft to younger trainees and older soldiers. He was delighted at being taken so seriously by adults for the first time in his life. His lessons at school were going well apparently, he enjoyed history and biology a lot.

Abby was attentively listening to him talking about crop diversification and the produce grown here during the different seasons as a group of fully-equipped soldiers came into the cafeteria. They seemed excited about their mission and were making a ton of noise, jeering and shoving each other around as they picked up their rations for the next two days from the serving counter. Abby and Lev both went quiet, poking around in their food and seeming to be holding their breaths until the squad had left.

Lev suddenly looked up at Abby with tears in his eyes.

“Do you think any of the Rattlers survived?” His voice was high pitched and he sounded like he was about to choke.

“Oh, Lev.” The blonde put her arm around his shoulder, her hands looking huge on his small frame. “I have no idea, I’m so sorry. I’m pretty sure the other prisoners were freed and got their revenge. She also freed some of the walkers in the area. It must have been bad. We’ll just have to wait and see, but I promise they’ll never lay a hand on you ever again.”

There she was again, the mysterious woman. Now you’d at least have a valid reason to bring it up. The boy sighed, then he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and straightened up. He waved over to a few other kids waiting at the exit.

“I need to go. Math class.” He grimaced and you and Abby both had to laugh. No one enjoyed math, but a certain basic knowledge was necessary for everyone here.

“See you tomorrow, Lev. I’ll bring her back safely,” you promised him and Abby rolled her eyes at you, but he gave you a genuinely thankful nod before tapping her shoulder as a goodbye and running over to his friends.

Abby smiled at you, her eyes lighting up as she remembered your plans for the day.

“You ready to go?” she asked, standing up and grabbing her backpack.

“Let’s get out of here.” You put on your backpack as well, took your plates and placed them in a plastic tub next to the counter.

In the empty corridor leading to the garage, Abby snuck her fingers between yours, sending sparks over your skin and making butterflies dance in your stomach. She pulled you toward her and after a quick glance left and right, she gave you a soft peck on the lips. You reacted instantly, burying your fingers in her hair and pulling her in for a second kiss, this time less innocent. Abby chuckled and grabbed your shoulder to push you away just a few inches and look you in the eyes.

You felt yourself blush and rubbed a hand over your eyes.

“Ugh, sorry, I just missed you all morning. Let’s just go.”

Grabbing her hand and pulling her with you, you entered the garage and quickly said hello to your coworkers before checking out the keys and leading Abby to your truck. Your colleagues didn’t lose a single word about the hand-holding and you were thankful for their discretion. They were your closest friends at the base and they knew you’d tell them more as soon as you were ready.

The drive out to the cabin took about an hour, one which you spent in blissful silence. You had rolled the windows down again and just like the last time, the summer air was whirling through the cabin and playing with your hair. Abby let an arm hang out of her window and took in the view of the different hills and forest patches, the beaches, and the beautiful meadows. She looked serene, completely at peace with herself and the world.

When you arrived at the cabin, it was better than you had remembered. The little wooden cottage was still in good shape, firewood was stacked up at the back and there was a small front porch with a perfect view of the bay in front of you. Two wooden chairs and a table stood on the porch, completely grown over with moss.

You fumbled with the keys for a second, then you were inside. All the curtains were drawn, bathing the dusty room in heavy yellow light before you opened them and looked around. Abby was still standing at the doorstep, uncertain of what to do.

The room was perfectly equipped with a little kitchen unit, a table with four chairs, a worn-out striped couch, and a decently sized bed, luckily covered with a big sheet to stop it from getting unbearably dusty. A narrow door in the corner seemed to lead to a bathroom. You put your hands on your hips and turned to Abby.

“Well, what do you think? Too dusty for your liking?”

The blonde snapped out of her astonishment.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, it’s great! It looks so cozy, I think I’m gonna sleep better than I have for months.” She took a few steps toward you and wrapped her hands around your waist. “Especially when I’m sleeping next to you.”

“Oh, I thought you were gonna take the couch,” you said dryly. Abby’s eyes widened and you could tell she seriously thought she had overstepped until you wrapped your arms around her neck and snorted, immediately receiving a playful push backward that you put up with by holding on to her for dear life.

“You’re an asshole,” she laughed, “I got scared there for a second!” She planted a kiss on your lips and picked you up by your waist, making you squeal.

“I’m sorry, Abby, ahh! Please let me down!” you begged but you had to admit this was fun. The taller woman gently put you back on your feet, then she said: “Come on, let’s get settled here.”

She opened the windows while you tried the tap unsuccessfully before pulling the cover off the bed and revealing buttercup yellow sheets. Sweet. Abby used a towel to wipe the dust off the table before setting her bag on it and offering to take yours as well. She put all the supplies in the kitchen cabinet before announcing that she was going to find you some water.

“When you go outside, there should be a pump on the left side of the house. Make sure to pump for a while until you touch the water, it’s got to be disgusting,” you said as you started sweeping the floor with a broom.

“Yeah, I know how a cistern works, thanks.” She rolled her eyes at you. A minute later, you could hear the squeaking of the old metal pump and the gurgle of water seeing daylight for the first time in years. You put the broom in the corner and wiped your hands on your jeans. The bed looked inviting, but the beach called to you even louder. You could feel that this night would have a lasting impact on your life and your relationship with Abby.

After checking on the roof and the cistern, you made your way down to the beach and spent the afternoon swimming, reading, and chasing each other around. One time Abby actually tackled you too hard and you got sand everywhere - your mouth, your nose, your eyes, even under your bathing suit. Abby couldn’t stop apologizing and telling you how sorry she was and how she underestimated her own strength but you swore vengeance for later and laughed it off. In order to get rid of all the sand underneath your suit, you went into the water and took it off before whirling it around over your head and getting Abby all flustered.

You secretly wanted her to join you, but she seemed to be too timid to go that fast so you put your bathing suit back on and let yourself flop down next to her, purposely splashing water on her and making her squeal as the cold drops hit her hot skin. Following an impulse, you rolled over and on top of her, pressing your cold, wet body on her soft, warm back. This time, she forced herself to stay still and not throw you around again, instead resorting to cursing you and calling you an atrocious little eel, only making you laugh harder.

After a while, she gave up on fighting you and you rested your cheek on her warm shoulder, humming in satisfaction. This was nice. It would be even better when you’d lie next to her in bed.

The afternoon seemed to go on forever, time standing still as you two forgot all your worries and enjoyed living in this little bubble of sun, sea and happiness. Then, finally, the sun hung low over the sea, drenching the world in golden light and painting the water orange and the clouds pink. It was an explosion of light and color, the pure beauty you could only find in nature. Or in the person you loved most.

Looking over at Abby, you saw she was also watching the waves and the clouds, the soft light illuminating the tiny hairs on her face and arms and making the dried salt crystals that stuck to her skin glint like little diamonds. Her dark blonde hair was swaying in the slight breeze and her cheeks had a faint red tinge from the sun. She was mesmerizing.

You moved closer to her and drew your nose along her jawline, breathing on her neck and placing tiny kisses behind her ear and on her temple until she was humming and leaning into your touch. She slowly turned her head and grazed your open mouth with hers before running the tip of her tongue over your upper lip. She opened her eyes.

“This really is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Nothing has ever made me feel like this,” she mumbled without drawing back.

“I’m glad you like it. I’ve been wanting to show it to you for a while.”

“I wish you would have shown me sooner. But I’m really happy you’re doing it now.” She turned her torso towards you and brushed her fingers over your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could see the specks of gold in her iris, reflecting the last rays of sunlight and making her look ethereal and otherworldly. Oh god, how in the world had you found her? How had she found you? This was too good to be true, but you wanted to believe that it was, to believe that this moment could last forever.

In a desperate attempt to tell her all this, the beautiful chaos in your heart and your head that started spinning when you were with her, you leaned forward and kissed her. Hard, like you were scared this wasn’t real or it could be your last, then softer when you felt Abby tense up in surprise. She opened her mouth for you and you dragged your tongue against hers, tasting hints of salt and the fruit you had had earlier. You became more confident and placed your hand on her inner thigh which she took in with a gasp before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you closer, her tongue now more forceful and demanding.

You couldn’t take the space between you any longer and crawled on top of her, straddling her hips as you looked down at her face, her green eyes half-closed and her mouth hanging open. The sun had said its farewells and vanished behind the horizon and the atmosphere created by the dusk suddenly hit you full force. Abby’s face was still softly lit by the pink clouds behind you while the sky behind her was a dark, heavy blue fading to black in the distance. She looked like a fucking painting.

“I’m so glad I found you,“ you whispered, running your fingers through her hair.

Abby answered by wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in. She kissed you with a burning passion, gentle but daring, sweet but hot, encasing you with her body and her mouth and pressing you so close that there wasn’t an inch left between you.

As she moved her hands down your body, pulling your hips closer and caressing your legs, she noticed the goosebumps all over your body and halted for a second.

“Are you cold, baby?”

You wanted to say no, but you had to admit you were starting to shiver under your still slightly damp swimming suit and wet hair, the evening breeze dancing around you and mocking you for getting so lost in the moment that you forgot everything around you.

“I really am,” you sighed, “maybe we could get some blankets and food and start a fire?”

Abby nodded and you struggled to your feet, feeling very naked and small all of a sudden. The blonde noticed your change of behavior and immediately got up next to you. She grabbed your books and towels and wrapped her dry one around your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms a few times to warm you up before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up.”

Inside the cabin, Abby managed to light an oil lamp and fill the room with a wonderfully soft, yellow light. She slowly walked toward you and came to a halt right in front of you. Gently, she placed her hands on your shoulders and took the towel, placing it on a chair beside you. Then she hooked a finger under the strap of your swimsuit and slowly pulled it over your shoulder and down your arm, never breaking eye contact. Both of you were breathing heavily, the air between you felt like sirup and the world seemed to stop turning.

You laid a hand on top of Abby’s and moved with her, dragging the strap down your arm to expose a slight tan line and a hard nipple standing out into the cold air. Abby still hadn’t moved her eyes from yours, helping you pull your arm out of the strap and slowly pulling down the other one until your entire chest was bare. You could feel another rush of goosebumps chasing over your entire body while hot blood shot into your face and painted your cheeks in a deep red.

You both took a deep breath simultaneously, then you nodded at the tall woman in front of you. She lowered her eyes to your breasts and let out a shaky breath, then she raised a hand and drew her fingertips over your collarbone, down your ribs, and up between your breasts before brushing over your sensitive nipples and finally using both hands to cup your breasts. She stepped closer and bent her head to kiss you. You melted into her, her hands now all over your body, her hot skin on your cold flesh, and her mouth on yours before attacking your throat, making you throw your head back and let out an ecstatic moan.

Suddenly, Abby’s hands were on your ass and she picked you up effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around her waist and held on to her shoulders as she carried you towards the bed, sitting down on it with you in her lap. You buried your fingers in her hair and pulled on it as you ground your hips forward and kissed along her jaw.

In this moment, you felt something shift inside her. She tensed up, but not in a way that felt right in this situation. You let go of her immediately and leaned back to look at her, scared you had done something wrong or she didn’t want this after all.

“Abby, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice sounding strangely loud and panicky in the silent room.

She kept one hand on the small of your back while rubbing the back of her head with the other.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s just - fuck…” You could see tears welling up in her eyes as she furrowed her brows and tried to keep it together. “You just reminded me of someone. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. It’s just… you don’t know everything about me yet. Maybe it’s time you did so you can decide if you still want me.”

She averted her eyes and let her hands fall to your thighs. For the second time in minutes, you felt strangely exposed and out of place. You nodded, then you stood up and turned away. It felt like your heart was slowly tearing at the seams and pouring blood into your stomach. Why couldn’t this be easy? What was the secret Abby had kept from you? You couldn’t imagine not wanting her anymore. She was everything you had ever dreamed of, the only person that had ever made you truly happy and it was impossible for you to see a future without her. The thought alone felt like a knife to your stomach.

You quickly pulled a big hooded sweatshirt from your backpack and put it on before taking off the swimsuit and slipping into fresh underwear and linen pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Abby getting dressed as well.

“I’m gonna get some wood from the back and start a fire on the beach,” you declared into the silence and rushed out the door without daring to look at Abby.

You piled up the wood on the sand, added some dried grass and small sticks in the middle and lit them with a match. The breeze had died down and the fire started at the first try. Abby came down from the cabin with two plaid blankets, a water bottle, and a small loaf of bread from your provisions. She spread one of the blankets on the ground and motioned for you to sit down, putting the second one around your shoulders when you had settled.

She sat down next to you and took a few gulps of water before handing the bottle to you. You were thankful for the cool liquid soothing your dry throat after the day in the sun and saltwater.

Abby took a deep breath, then she began.

She told you about her life at Salt Lake, growing up among the Fireflies, about her father, the surgeon, and the search for a vaccine. They had heard there was a girl who was immune and on her way to them, but only a few people believed it, her dad among them. When the day finally came, she had been out training with her boyfriend Owen and upon her arrival at the base, everyone was talking about the girl and the surgery her father was about to perform on her in order to try to develop a vaccine. There was an actual chance of salvation; everyone was enthusiastic.

Then the shooting had happened. Joel, the man who had brought the girl had suddenly changed his mind and abducted the girl straight from the operating table. He had shot everyone in his way. When Abby ran to find her father, it had been too late. Joel had killed him and with him the last chance of making a vaccine. Abby’s world had been destroyed in a matter of minutes.

That day, she had sworn vengeance. She had started training even harder than before and followed every tip she got to find Joel. The Fireflies had crumbled and she and a small group of friends had joined the WLF. Abby had broken up with Owen and everyone but her had given up on vengeance, but one day she had found Joel and his brother Tommy. She had brought them to the cabin where she was staying with her crew and she had killed Joel. An eye for an eye.

What she hadn’t expected was the young woman turning up at the last second to inevitably watch Joel die. They had left her and Tommy there and seen the matter as dealt with.

Then, suddenly, Abby’s friends had been killed one by one. This was at the same time she had met Lev and helped him flee from the Seraphites. In Seattle, she had come face to face with Ellie, the immune girl from way back and the woman who had watched Joel, her father figure, die at the hands of Abby. She had been the one to kill Abby’s crew trying to find her. Abby however had defeated her and Tommy once more and warned them not to come after her again.

Months after, just as they had made first contact with the Catalina Fireflies, Abby and Lev had been captured by the Rattlers and were tortured for weeks. One day, Ellie had turned up there and helped them escape before challenging Abby to one last fight to the death, threatening to kill Lev if Abby wouldn’t do it. They had fought a gruesome battle, both sustaining terrible wounds before Ellie had given up and let Abby and Lev go.

Abby didn’t know where she was now and if she had survived, and she didn’t care. She knew why Ellie had pursued her and she knew Ellie understood her reasons, too. Still, the loss they had suffered at the hands of the other was unbearable. Abby had lost everyone she had ever trusted or shared good memories with to horrific deaths and there would never be justice. She would never get them back and she would never understand why all this had to happen.

By the end of her story, Abby was sobbing. You had wrapped your blanket around the both of you and your hand lay on her thigh, but you didn’t dare to make closer contact. You didn’t know what to think of all this. What a waste. What a terrible, devastating tragedy. How horrible to suffer this much and have no one to blame, nothing to do with all the pain and grief.

Abby wiped her eyes with the corner of the blanket.

“I think, if I hadn’t found Lev, I wouldn’t have made it. I would have let her kill me. What was there to live for after everything that had happened?”

The thought of Abby dying was the final pull that ripped your heart to shreds. You pressed both of your hands to your chest to assure yourself you were okay, panting heavily as you tried to find something to say. There was nothing you could offer that would make this hell better for her. The realization was crushing.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes while Abby tried to calm her breathing and you tried to calm your thoughts. Finally, you broke the silence.

“I’ve loved Lev from the minute I met him and I’m so thankful he’s here.”

What you wanted to say, wanted to scream into the flames, was that you had loved Abby since the second you saw her, that she had your heart, that this was fucking confusing but didn’t change your feelings for her and that you would never give up on trying to be with her.

“That little boy has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. He’s been through so much and he had to grow up in the span of a few months, but when I see him smile or hear him laugh or talk about fucking sustainable agriculture” - she had to laugh through a veil of tears - “I know it was all worth it. Every fight, every day in that godforsaken cell, every bullet. He’s my reason.”

Fuck it. It was better to tell her right now than to suffer the uncertainty any longer.

“Abby, I honestly don’t know what to say. I can’t even begin to perceive the horrors you’ve been through and I’m not going to act like I even remotely understand how you feel. What I do know is this: there is no one to blame in this whole terrible web of tragedy. What matters is that it’s over and that you now have the chance to live a life without constant danger and death and disaster. And I’m going to be at your side every day, no matter how long it takes for you to accept safety and peace and maybe even happiness into your life, even if it takes you forever. I have never felt the way I feel with you, I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone this deeply. I understand that you’re far away sometimes and I know there is still a lot of distance between us and you don’t have to reciprocate any of this, but I just want you to know . Know you are loved, know you have a place here, and know I will do everything in my power to help you through this.”

Abby’s eyes had gone wide at your monologue and she seemed completely blindsided by your confession. How had she not seen this coming? Did she seriously think she was just some fling to you? A little summer fun? What was she thinking?

The blonde stared into the fire, contemplating and kneading her fingers.

“Today was the first time I didn’t think of them for several hours. Ever since we arrived, I just tucked it all away in a corner of my mind and decided I could be sad tomorrow because today, with you, I would be happy.”

You held your breath and waited for her to continue, not daring to move or say a word.

“And I really was. Happy, you know? And you’re different, too. Owen was there for me so I was there for him. It just turned out I didn’t care for him as much as he did for me. And that really, really fucking sucks to know now that he’s gone. But I can’t change it. All I know is that I’ve never cared for anyone as much as I care for you. You’re constantly on my mind and I get irritated and impatient when I haven’t seen you for too long, usually meaning only a couple hours, which is a little pathetic if I gotta be honest.”

She looked at you and it felt like she was staring right into your soul. You were frozen, in disbelief at what she was telling you. She held out her hand and you took it, your fingers naturally slipping between hers and closing around her palm. How could two bodies fit each other that perfectly? Abby took a deep breath and turned her gaze to the fire again.

“I still have a long way to go with all this and the next few days are going to absolutely fucking horrible. I have no idea how I’m going to survive that. But with you by my side, I want to try. For you, for Lev, and for all the people I’ve lost. I owe it to them to make the best of the life I still have.”

She lifted your hands to her face and kissed the back of your hand.

“You, Y/N, have stirred something inside me I haven’t felt in years. It feels warm and hopeful and eager to see what the next day brings. And because I know tomorrow will bring a lot of pain, at the moment I just want to see what the next hour brings.”

You let your head fall on her shoulder and she put an arm around you. It had gone completely dark and the fire was slowly dying down, but you were warm and comfortable. The night was singing a bittersweet song for those gone too soon, the trees humming their wonderful tenor as the waves joined in with a whisper, the bats over your heads drumming their fleeting rhythm, and an owl completing the symphony with her wailing cries.

Abby started talking again and telling you stories about her time with the Fireflies while ripping off little pieces of bread for you both. One day, her and Owen had helped her dad free a zebra that had gotten caught in some wire. Her first kiss had been Nora, her closest friend and a brilliant doctor. Leah and Jordan had been the power couple at the WLF, brilliant together but also extremely annoying whenever they started wildly making out at parties or fucking in the bathroom thinking the others wouldn’t hear. Then there was Mel, part of the group but in a difficult triangle with Abby and Owen. She had been pregnant with Owen’s child when Ellie killed her. And Yara, what a wonderful young woman. Lev’s sister had stood by him and defended him when he had gotten in trouble with the Seraphites and she had done everything she could to protect him until the day she died. From that day on, Abby had taken that responsibility.

She also told you about her fear of heights and the trip through the sky with Lev, now laughing as she admitted how bizarre it all seemed looking back. It was nice to hear her laugh again and to finally really get to know her.

When the fire was nothing more than a few smoldering coals, Abby suggested going back to the cabin. You packed up your things and carried them back inside. Abby lit the lamp again while you folded the sandy blankets and put them to the side. Then you locked the door.

As you turned around, you could see Abby standing next to the bed, looking at you. Her features were only lit from the side, golden light flickering over her cheekbones and jaw. Her head was slightly cocked and her hands were restless again, searching for something to hold on to and finding only each other.

“Come here,” she said in a low voice. You felt yourself drawn to her by an invisible string, moving faster with every step until you clashed into her, hands and arms entangling, hot mouths pressed together. She let herself fall back onto the bed and pulled you down with her.

You couldn’t tell if the rushing in your ears was the sea or your own blood, but it didn’t matter. Abby’s calloused hands were exploring your back under the sweatshirt, her thigh was pressed between yours and her heavy breathing joined the harmony in your head.

You paused for a minute, staring down at the beautiful face beneath you, her eyes promising that she was all yours.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” you whispered, then you kissed her again and dragged her down with you into an ocean of pleasure.

Author’s note: After receiving amazing feedback from you guys and a demand for more, I’m currently in the process of writing a Part 3 for this! Thank you for your patience 💌 if you’d like, you can support me by buying me a coffee 💛

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby tlou2 #the last of us 2 #abby anderson fic #fanfiction #smut #fluff #angst

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somensfw-blue · 3 years

Note

Ok I had a thought. Vilbur using a fucking machine on his partner while teasing them. He would put I giant dildo on it and have it going super fast. He would switch between intensely rubbing their clit and finger fucking their mouth. He would have them tied up with their arms above their head. Sometimes he would just sit back and watch his partner screaming out of pleasure. Eventually he would remove the machine and start teasing their clit. At this point they would’ve had orgasmed so many times and would be so overstimulated that they would be screaming out in pain and pleasure. Once he was satisfied with how many orgasm they had, he would fuck them really roughly so that he could cum and have them cum one final time. Ofc the entire time that he was overstimulating them he would be mixing so much praise into the degrading saying stuff like doing so good for master.

There is my Wilbur rant of the day, will I have another? Who knows? All I know is I had a really intense manic episode earlier and it was simultaneously the funniest and worst thing ever

the shit would love watching them fall apart, such a little voyer. he'd only touch them himself when he can't take it anymore, seeing them screaming and writhing, it's too tempting and he can't not touch. and sliding his fingers into their mouth only to feel them try so hard to suck but the machine is fucking them so fast that they can't.

and after maybe 5? 6? he's lost count and they definitely have. he stops the machine, his cock so hard it hurts him, and he slowly, agonisingly pulls the giant dildo that had been ruining them for so long. he pulls it out slowly so that he can watch the way their legs twitch and the way their pussy flexes around it as it moves. and the mess that's made when it's finally out, he can't help but stare, licking his lips. and while they come down a little, he lets his thumb rub their clit slowly, keeping them stimulated while your brain clears just a little. but he's waiting for his queue, a bastard that no matter how badly he wants to fuck them, he will wait until they are begging

"wil- sir. please it's so much. please, sir. do something. need you, sir." there it is

he's quick to slide his own cock into them, replacing the silicone one that he them writhing. "you've done so fucking well. just one for me. wanna feel you cum around my cock, okay darling. god such a pretty whore for me." and once they cum that one more time, he's whispering out praises and i love you's until they fall asleep, which happens very quickly. and even though they're asleep, he continues praising them while he cleans them up

(i hope that you stayed safe and are okay post-manic episode, but i'm glad it was the funniest thing ever, even if it was also the worst)

#c:WLBR #c:VLBR #k:overstimulation #k:sir #sootywrites #;afab #k:degradation

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are space Orcs, “Interrogation.”

Wrote this after my first day of work, so forgive me if there are any issues.

Admiral Vir sighed and tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling overhead. “You can make me wait here all day, it isn’t going to change my story.” He leaned back further in his chair to the point where he balanced on two legs, “You want to know why?” He turned his head towards the mirror across the room, which he was in no small doubt, was a one way mirror. He allowed the chair legs to drop and slam against the floor, “BECAUSE I AM TELLING THE TRUTH.”

He sighed and slammed his head against the table with a sigh. The energy cuffs on his wrists hummed, buzzing slightly against his skin when he moved.

He groaned, “I’ve told you countless times. I am-being-framed.” With every word, he accentuated his statement by slamming his forehead against the metal of the desk. Not hard enough to hurt, but he was just so bored that maybe pain would be better than just sitting here.

He sighed when no one came and looked around at the small room, the single table, the one way mirror and the two metal chairs, his hands chained to the desk in front of him.

He groaned and slumped down in his chair. Folding his arms before him, he rested his head against his arms taking a deep breath and sighed. Well maybe he might fit in a nap while they were working, at least that wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing he wasn’t enjoying this.

He was asleep within seven minutes.

***

“YOU BASTARDS. YOU MONGRELS. YOU HARRY SYCOPHANTS. IF YOU HURT A HAIR ON HIS HEAD, I SWEAR I WILL RUIN YOU. ADAM VIR IS INNOCENT I TELL YOU, INNOCENT.”

“Stop.”

“I WILL TEAR THIS PRECINCT DOWN BRICK BY BRICK.”

“Krill!”

“DID YOU HEAR ME YOU FUZZY PISSANTS.”

“Krill STOP!”

His ranting was cut off as Sunny clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him away from the front steps of the Tesraki prescient, “What are you doing! This isn’t going to help Adam. If anything that is going to make it so much worse.’

Krill turned his head to look up at her, eyes narrowed, “Who are you and what did you do with Sunny.”

She frowned, “what do you mean.”

“Are you kidding me Sunny! Your battle partner is in there, and who knows what could happen to him . Who knows what is happening to him as we wpeek Whoever framed him had a lot of ower and that means they have the power to murder him on the inside.”

Sunny snarled, “Don’t you think I know that Krill! I can’t believe I am saying this, least of all to you, but we have to be rational! Charging in there weapons blazing is only going to get us hurt, thrown in jail or killed, and neither of those would be useful to Adam right now. We have to prove that he is innocent!”

“What more proof can we get that they won’t just reject out of hand. It doesnt matter that he was traveling with the two of us, or that his ship is full of aliens, or that he is the head of a drev clan. Something bigger is going on here Sunny, we have to do something even BIGGER to fight this.”

She frowned tapping her fingers lightly against the bottom of her chin.

Great drops or rain began to fall from the sky plunking down on the pavement with subtle thudding noises.

“We have to find irrefutable proof, something they cant argue with even if they tried.”

“Where do we start.”

“That list Adam gave us should be a good start.”

Krill sighed, “Fine, but there isn’t time to be nice about this. We can’t rely on the authorities. We have to do this our way.”

***

SLAM

Adam jerked awake, his head ringing as he sat up in his chair staring around the room and groggily trying to find the source of the noise. It didn’t take long before he found what he was looking for. The Detective stood over him, his jacket hanging lank and long draped around his shoulders and towards the floor.

On the table before him, there sat a large cream file, which had likely been the source of the noise.

Adam frowned and sat back in his seat.

“Really, a file. Is that supposed to intimidate me or something?”

The Detective sat across from him, “Do you need us to get you anything Admiral.”

“How about the key out of here.”

The man frowned, “So you fancy yourself a comedian.”

“No, I fancy myself a free man.” he would have crossed his arms if the cuffs didn’t get in the way.

“Are you always this resistive to authority.”

Adam snorted, “I’m in the fucking army asshat of course I’m not. I am resistive to assholes who falsely accuse me of something I didn’t do and then ignore my friends when they try to stick up for me.”

“The Drev and the Vrul?”

“Yes.”

“We are looking into them as we speak. We are sure to find their link to your plot soon.”

Adam sputtered, “Plot, what plot you daft dimwit.” he wrigged his fingers comically, “My dastardly plot to give hugs to all the aliens in the universe, or how about my evil scheme to steal cake from the shared company fridge. Oh what a fucking moster I am.”

“Where did you put the body parts?”

He stopped in his tracks, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The body parts of the first Tesraki, where did you put them.”

Adam shook his head in disbelief, “Look Detective dumbass, I didn’t put the Tesraki’s body parts anywhere… do you want to know why?”

The detective raised an eyebrow and leaned in a bit as Adam motioned him closer.

“BECAUSE I WASN’T EVEN ON THE FUCKING PLANET!”

The man nearly lept out of his skin with the strength of Adam’s voice. Adam sat back in his seat, “Just look at my ship’s log. I was busy working in the Perseus spiral of the Milky way before I was called in here. There was no way I could have been involved.”

“I know, we have a ship log that says you were there.”

He frowned, “Than why try to get me to admit to something I didn’t do.”

The man shook his head, “I didn’t say you didn’t do it, I just said that your ship’s logs seem to state that you were off world during that time.”

Adam huffed in anger and indignation, “Are you suggesting that I doctored my own ship reports?”

“You are the admiral, you do have executive control over things like that.”

Adam sighed in frustration, “I can’t even believe you right now. Changing a SINGLE long would prove nothing. I would have to change hours and hours mabe even days of data. Looking on the ship, you will find collected specimens and photos and videos taken during the time of the killing.” He rattled his hands against the chains, “You are a pretty ass detective if this is the best you can do.”

The man frowned, clearly not very impressed.

“Did you ever stop to think about why you are even here? I CALLED YOU IN. Why the ever loving hell would I do that if i thought there was even a chance that you could come in and catch me. It’s stupid, and it doesn’t add up.”

“You aren’t doing anything to make yourself look better Admiral.”

“Because I shouldn’t have to!”

“I beg to differ.”

***

A bright light flicked on in the darkness.

The human cringed back against it his feet scraping on the floor along with the metal of the chair, which he was tied to.

“Krill I-”

“Shh Sunny,”

The human squinted past the light in confusion and concern as two shadows coalesced before him and his eyes grew used to the glare. He shifted back in his seat, eyes wide as the two aliens stared back at him, one of those big shiny Drev and those weird spider things he forgot the name of.

The little creature paced back and forth in front of him, ‘You will find it interesting to know how easy it was to find you. After we found your three thug friends on the list, surprise surprise, guess how delighted we were to learn you were all staying in the same room together…. And one of you was missing.”

The an hook his head staring at the scuttling legs of the little bug creature as he crawled past, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” The bug turned to look at him, and he was suddenly very disconcerted by the angry glower that covered the creature’s face, It was too human of an expression to belong on an alien.

“Wha, wh… I have no idea what you are talking about, I swear.”

The little bug leaned forward, as something shiny appeared in his hand, ‘Oh I think you do.”

“Is that a scalpel.” He squeaked out

“Yes, why yes it is. I am a surgeon by the way.” He glowered at the human, “And I know over 100 ways to.” His voice grew quiet, “disembowel yo, while keeping you alive.”

The man’s eyes widened in panic.

“Krill!” THe Drev hissed.

“Shut up, Sunny.” The Little bug crawled forward, until he was right up in the human’s face. Did you know when I was in medical school, I learned how to completely dissect the nervous system of a krevling. My record…. Ten minutes and twenty three seconds.”

The man turned to look at the Drev, who, surprisingly, out of the two of them seemed less crazy and violent.

She caught his eye, “Maybe you should do what he says. I don’t think he’s kidding.”

THe bug creature inflated his helium sack and rose into the air scalpel held out nonchalantly. He leaned in close quietly, “I hear humans taste like chicken.”

His mouth quivered, “I, I thought you bugs only ate plants.”

The alien smacked his lips together, or at least made the approximation of smacking his lips together, “I don’t know a light based diet hasn’t really been sustaining me lately. He leaned a little further in, “besides, I think sauteed lightly in butter with a couple of onions…. You might just manage to convert me to carnivorism.”

The man pushed back against the ground, metal scraping against concrete until his back was planted right against the wall, “I…. I don’t know what is wrong with you, but I swear….”

THe Drev placed a hand on the bug’s shoulder, “krill, seriously, don’t you think this is going a little too far.”

“This coming from you, Sunny.” He shrugged hr off, “I think I would like his toes first.”

The human took a deep breath staring down into the little creature’s prismatic orange eyes, crazy eyes, manic eyes.

Sunny, the Drev shook her head, “Look we don’t really want to hurt you, we just want to help our friend.”

“Toes.” The Vrul whispered

The look on the creature’s face was enough to have him loose his nerve completely, “OK OK fine, I will tell you what you want to know, just don’t. Just don’t touch my toes, OK. you Freak.”

*** “Dear lord in heaven above give me the strength not to smash my head through this table.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink.”

“You know that whole trying to be my friend thing isn’t going to work. You called me xenophobic after all, which is the msot damned insulting thing I have ever been called. My best friend is an alien, my g….my gr-reatest allies are aliens. I was the one who DISCOVERED them. I am the leader of a Drev CLAN for crying out loud.”

“People do things they don’t like for power.”

“Were you dropped on your head as a child or were you just born stupid.”

The Detective glowered at him, “Name calling isnt going to help you here.”

“I demand a lawyer.”

The detective snarled.

He tired to cross his arms but only managed to tug against his jacket, “I demand a lawyer immediately, and until I get one, I am not saying another word to you.”

“Admiral Vir, there is no law on the Tesraki homeworld that says.”

“Twinkle twinkle little star-”

“That is really mature Admiral.”

“Wanna hit you with my car.”

“Admiral.”

“Toss you off a cliff so high!” “Admiral, stop that right now.”

“HOPE YOU BREAK YOUR NECK AND DIE”

The detective was seen storming out of the interrogation room not minutes later fuming with the sound of lyrics followed him down the hall, which didn’t stop until the door closed all the way.

It would remain to be seen who was going to break first.

***

Sunny stared at Krill, and Krill did his best to ignore Sunny as he paced back and forth over the ground.

“What the hell was that.”

“What was what.”

“What you just did in there.”

“Interrogation.”

“That guy nearly shat himself.”

Krill looked up at her with a very serious expression, “That is what I was hoping for.”

“Have you gone insane.”

“No, not at all besides, it worked didn’t it.”

Sunny grumbled in acknowledgement. She supposed he was right. The revelations they had received from the man as he cowered back against his chair begging Krill not to cut off his nose.

Someone had hired the four of them for sure. He was in charge of locating their targets while the other three men did their dirty work. Following that he was supposed to doctor some information given to him by his outside source, “I fixed the surveillance to make it look like the admiral was there. I have the doctored files in my computer, and I was supposed to bring them to my source tomorrow night so they could use it as evidence against him.’

“And who are your contacts.’

“I don’t know, I never saw their faces, or asked questions. I was just the guy who dropped off what they needed.”

“Than that means you can take us to this dropoff point.”

“No I…”

“Did you know it only takes a spoon and less than a pound of pressure to pop a human eye out of it’s socket.”

“FINE FINE ILL TAKE YOU. Just get this crazy freak away from me.”

Sunny had grabbed krill then and dragged him out of the room with a disapproving frown.

“What you are a drev you should love scaring the shit out of people.”

“I love beating the shit out of people krill, not threatening to eat their toes.”

He shrugged seeming very unconcerned about the whole thing, “Either way, we have our way in. As long as Adam can hang in there, we might be able to save him.”

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cibeewastaken · 5 years

Text

Ten Proposals and Nine Drinks

Summary:

Malfoy has been proposing to Harry all night. Harry wants a turn to propose as well.

(On Ao3)

═══════════════════════

“Here’s an idea,” Malfoy said.

“Uh-oh,” Harry said. “We haven’t even got to the pub yet.”

“Piss off.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Shut up,” Malfoy said. “I’m trying to say something.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“For the love of — My plan involves a lot of free alcohol, what are you offering beside your mouth?”

“My mouth is always opened to you,” Harry said cheerfully.

Malfoy took a deep breath. “My idea is — ”

“That maybe you can’t finish a sentence?”

“Oh, for — ” Malfoy stopped to kick an innocent mailbox. “ — fuck’s sake!”

Harry couldn’t help but marvel at how much of a brat he became in the five years he’d been together with Malfoy. Though, it was either become a quippy brat himself or get railed on day and night by Slytherins. Honestly, it was just Darwinism at its finest. Harry only did it to survive, no matter what Ron said (“You get the glow every time you snark with Malfoy, really, it’s actually more disturbing. You’re getting the after-sex glow without the sex. What the fuck?”)

Malfoy drew in a deep and slow breath. “You know how they give away free drinks to people on special occasions? Birthday, engagement, their bastard of an uncle died, you know, that sort of thing?”

“You want to pretend it’s one of us’ birthday,” Harry guessed.

“I would, but the whole magical world knows a certain twat’s birthday,” Malfoy pinched Harry’s side and Harry yelped, squirming away and bumping into a few girls.

“Sorry, sorry!” Harry flushed, glaring at Malfoy when he laughed. “So who are you killing off?”

“I was thinking Weasley, but I don’t want you to burst into tears.”

“I wouldn’t!” Harry said. “I can take a joke. You just have a shit sense of humor.”

“I do not!” Malfoy cried.

Harry ignore Malfoy’s protests and ducked into their first destination, which just meant whatever pub they see first. Malfoy was still talking indignantly when he sat down next to Harry. Harry cut him off.

“So, you want to propose,” Harry said. Of-fucking-course. “And I’m guessing you want to do the proposing.”

Malfoy latched onto Harry’s arm and batted his eyelashes. “You know me so well.”

Harry snorted. “Have at it, then.”

═══════════════════════

“Told you it would work,” Malfoy preened beside Harry as they head to the next pub.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “I never said it wouldn’t.”

“I could hear you think it!” Malfoy insisted. “Well, never mind that. Wasn’t I amazing at the end?”

“You certainly were . . . something,” Harry said.

“I admit I hadn’t thought of an exit strategy,” Malfoy skipped on the icy road, making the back of Harry’s neck prickled with anxiety and he untucked his hands from his pocket so it would be easier to grab Malfoy if the prick slipped and fell. “But they all seemed eager to send us off into our bright future together.”

Malfoy’s “exit strategy” mostly consisted of grabbing Harry’s face and snogging him until Harry was weak in the knees, before loudly declaring “I must have you now, my love! My sun! My petit four! (“Petit?” Harry had sputtered and Malfoy shut him up with a hard pinch to the face) I cannot wait to have you until after our joyous union, let’s go now, fiancé!”

They were ushered to the door by a harried bartender and laughing crowd. Malfoy blew a kiss at the pub at large before they stepped out, and his face made Harry wished this was always how every one of Malfoy’s plans went- dramatic and ridiculous with the backdrop of happy grins. Not anything else, never badly. Not for the first time, Harry wondered how his life could have been like if Malfoy had been kinder, and they had ended up friends when they were children.

Harry took Malfoy’s hand in his. It didn’t matter right now, or anymore. They still had a young night, and many pubs, and many more proposals to make and receive.

═══════════════════════

Well, Malfoy certainly had a knack for proposal, unfortunately, he also had a bigger knack at mortifying Harry.

Twice, Harry had to stop Malfoy from describing Harry’s dick with details even himself didn’t know about. Twice, Harry couldn’t even understand what the hell Malfoy was saying because he was so drunk from the previous congratulation-this-is-on-the-house drinks.

(Harry had been ready to call it a night by the fourth pub, but Malfoy, who was so determined to get free drinks, had brewed sobering potions to take with him.

“Drink up, Potter,” Malfoy had said. “I am not a rich man any more, and I insist on milking this dry since I’m sure this is going to blow up in the Prophets tomorrow.”

“You don’t care about ruining my reputation?” Harry had said.

“What reputation?” Malfoy had said, and downed the potion.)

Once, though, Malfoy went from loud and sappy tirade to fervent whispers against Harry’s lips. His hands, cold, clenched Harry’s jacket, and he spoke like he was kissing Harry, swaying them both, with Harry gasping for air.

They had gotten champagne for that one.

By the time they were drinking their third Sobering potion, they had successfully gotten nine drinks from both magical as well as non-magical establishments, and Harry was a little irritated.

“I want to have a go,” Harry said.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Please, Potter, you barely got through your speech at the Granger-Weasley cult séance, and you knew most of the people there.”

“Barely being the keyword,” Harry argued. “I want to try. And stop calling their wedding a séance.”

“All weddings look like a séance to me,” Malfoy said loftily. “And do not try to tell me that the abomination Granger and Weasley called a dance wasn’t a ritual to summon the devil or an attempt to murder me through sheer mortification?”

“I’m telling her you said that.”

“What makes you think I care?”

Harry squinted at his boyfriend. “You don’t have the guts.”

Malfoy flushed. “Please don’t tell her.”

“Let me propose next and I won’t.”

“Fine!” Malfoy said. “Good god, cease the histrionics, Potter, it doesn’t become you. But just this once, if I don’t get the attention at the next bar, I shall certainly perish from neglect, and who is going to tell you your hair look atrocious in the morning, hmm?”

“You talk way too much,” Harry said, pushing the door open, and let it slam in Malfoy’s face.

Malfoy caught it smoothly. Damn. “Come now, darling. Betrothed lovers shouldn’t be so testy with each other.”

Harry sighed. “If you’re this annoying before we’re engaged, I can’t imagine how much worse it’ll be after.”

“I have great plans for it,” Malfoy said as they sat down. “I’m waiting, lovely.”

═══════════════════════

Draco looked away, gleefully awaiting the abysmal attempt of Potter’s proposal. He was never good with words, was he? Let him see what happens when he tries to best Draco at his game. They would never get their free drinks with it depending on Potter, but that was quite alright, the privilege of knowing - and saying - he was better at this was worth the lost alcohol.

He waited and waited for the stuttering and ers to come, but instead someone nearby gasped.

Draco turned around to look for Potter sputtering, but instead he found Potter kneeling. Draco stared. Potter smiled.

Harry’s smile settled into his face - it became him - it looked as though he was meant to always be so — smiling.

And yes, somewhere, at the very back of his mind, Draco knew he would be so lucky to have Potter’s smile sunk into him for the rest of his life.

At the very front of his mind, however —

═══════════════════════

Harry smiled at Malfoy. He looked very startled.

“Hi,” Harry said.

Malfoy didn’t say anything. His eyes were wide and bright and lovely.

“Really lovely,” Harry mumbled.

“What?” Malfoy said.

Harry shook his head. “I just — ” he swallowed. Even though Malfoy’s dramatics unexpectedly set this whole night up for Harry, he was still shaky and scared. No matter how comfortably familiar the sight of Malfoy was for Harry, he was still trembling.

“I just love you,” Harry said, going for the one thing he knew he would never be scared of saying. Or would never waver no matter how scared Harry was. But then all of the valleys of words inside of Harry came tumbling out, too - “There’s nothing else, but it’s everything too. I love you, with you, holding you, spending time with you, living with you, being loved by you, everything. It all boils down to loving you, yeah?”

Malfoy looked as scared as Harry felt, so to not drag on, Harry fumbled for his pocket.

Finally, Malfoy started. “Oh,” he said.

“Yeah,” Harry laughed nervously, and it took him two tries to open the velvet box. The ring was pale, with a round moonstone in the middle. Harry remembered the day spend looking for rings, how it was filled with sparkling diamonds and gems, but the grey stones drew Harry in like Malfoy’s eyes always did, and the decision was easy.

Now, with both stone and eyes in the same vicinity, Harry couldn’t help but feel a little sappy at the uncanny resemblance between the two.

“Potter,” Malfoy’s voice was wobbly. “I swear to . . . I swear if this is your idea of getting free drinks, I will maim you.”

Harry laughed. “That was all you, prat. Of course you would mess up my plan, even on this. But then, I want to have you around so you would keep messing up all my carefully thought out plans.”

“Carefully thought out?” Malfoy swiped underneath his nose with his knuckles. The tip of his pointy nose was red. “You must still be drunk.”

“You’re admitting you aren’t as good at potions as you claim you are?”

“Piss off,” Malfoy said.

Sheepishly, Harry said, “I rather not.”

Malfoy’s hand pinched his thigh. His eyes never left Harry. He wasn’t blinking as well. For a moment, Malfoy looked like a statue, like his mind had forgotten it was still in the real world and left altogether.

“Will you, then?” Harry asked, belatedly. “Marry me.”

Malfoy’s laugh sounded manic. “Will I?” he said. “Who is going to tell you your hair looks atrocious in the morning if not me?”

“I don’t know. Hermione does a pretty good job,” Harry said. His knees were starting to hurt, but he didn’t want to get up.

“She does not!” Malfoy yelped. “I am marrying you, Potter, only I can insult your hair.”

“Yes,” Harry said. “Yes.” And he slid the ring onto Malfoy’s violently shaking finger with equally trembling hands.

Beside them, the bartender was frowning. “Excuse me,” he said, “are you still calling the person you proposed to by their last name?”

“Yes,” Harry said. The word felt incredibly gorgeous to say.

“Oh,” the bartender said. “Okay.” He turned around and poured two glasses of white wine. “It’s on the house.”

“That’s lovely of you,” Malfoy said. He had his left hand pressed to his chest. “But why don’t you give it to whoever sits here next?” Malfoy’s eyes sought out Harry’s. His smile made him looked all kinds of shine. “We have a séance to plan.”

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #hp #darry #harry x draco #draco X harry #my fic

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agirlwithachakram · 4 years

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Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandom: A Dangerous Fortune (2016 TV movie) Relationship: Edward Pilaster/Mickey Miranda Characters: Mickey Miranda, Edward Pilaster, Florence Stalworthy Pilaster, Nora (A Dangerous Fortune)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, sort of a "what-if", i don't know if I'd call it a fix-it, there is sex but it's not a very smutty fic so consider yourself warned, warning tags!, we got, Suicide Attempt, Canon-Typical Violence, Pregnancy, Giving Birth, and introspection

Words: 10923

I have started the AO3 tag for A Dangerous Fortune, the TV movie, not the book, and I blame Luca Marinelli for this. I was struck by the sudden dynamic shift that occurs near the end of the movie between Edward and Mickey, but it is never given the chance to go anywhere. So I took it somewhere. Massive spoilers ahead, obviously!

empty

Success had never felt so empty. Mickey Miranda had one friend in the world if he had any, and that friend had a gun to his head.

He'd slept with him to please his father--his father who would disown him if he knew, but not before beating the hell out of him, maybe killing him. He had nothing. He had no one. He'd abused and mistreated so many people in his life, passing on the cruelty from his father, and though he'd stopped being violent to women, even working girls, about seven years prior, what difference did it make? That he'd changed? No. He'd slept with his only friend to force him to ruin himself, after, of course, a six-year affair with Edward's monster of a mother. Mickey was the exact same bastard who was willing to destroy Samuel's life over the same morally neutral sort of thing he engaged in himself, all the time. For money. For power. To please his cruel father. Sometimes just for pleasure.

Sometimes. And not once for love.

"Shoot," he ordered. Because if Edward had finally grown a pair and was willing to go this far, to make this threat, Mickey didn't even know what his own life was worth now. He couldn't go home. Edward would expose him. And now, Edward was the one person who knew everything about him, and it appeared his judgment was that Mickey was not worth sparing.

He had slept with Florence, had been gentle and giving and made sure she got hers. She might get pregnant. She might not. But in the clarity after the act, utter exhaustion had overtaken him. There was a gaping void where a soul should be.

Nothing worth keeping.

Edward's face was stone. Mickey couldn't stand it. "Shoot!" he shouted, but Edward did not. Mickey approached him. Something had to happen. Maybe if Edward killed him, at least he could have some kind of life after all this. At least he'd learn a valuable lesson about not trusting people just because you want to fuck them.

It had to be easy, right? Simple. Dying wasn't something one strived to do, just something you let happen. He swallowed. His worthless life would be over soon. "Think of all the things I've done to you," he said softly, like he'd spoken to Edward in bed, because surely that would make him angry enough to do it.

Edward nodded, a strange half-smile gracing his face.

Mickey took two final steps toward him. His eyes burned. He was ready for this, but his body fought it. "So now, destroy it." He offered a small smile. "Please," he whispered.

But Edward just gave him a horrible, manic grin and pointed the gun away, slowly moving his arm toward himself. By the time Mickey realized what he was doing, it was almost too late.

He could let it happen. He would be free. He could go home, or he could run away, or he could go home, steal a lot of money, and then run away and become someone else. Run somewhere his father could never find him.

He could let it happen. How bad could it be to watch the one person who knew you blow their brains out while you stood there?

He didn't let it happen.

Continue reading on AO3

#a dangerous fortune #Die Pfeiler der Macht #luca marinelli #had to repost because it wouldn't go in the damn tags #mickey miranda #edward pilaster #now STAY in the tags

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captainkurosolaire · 4 years

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Reverie of Winning

“She has a name, you bastard!”

At no chance would that sufficiently hit Shiro who was calculated always and right now as he began returning to his evil ways, mental tormenting drew satisfaction. All forms had thresholds he felt compelling and screaming other demon’s floating inside him screaming the gap of their power was tremendously in his favor. The indifference's were believed absurdly countless to count. An aetherial icy hand began molding and attempting to seal in his block. More ice surrounded Shiro’s entire frame that often was always around him in a transparent bubble. He had a certain radius that kept him clean and secure from filth and pollution. A protective aura of sorts or defined as his safe-zone. The ice that spawned forth was rapid and not in any sense logically gathered as his corruption defied his normal limits. The Captain predicted a counter only under the many battles they contested his better instincts and judgments kicked in. He followed up in his motion high-kick while allowing them to remain linked to trace behind his spine and unstrap his revolver charged with high dense explosive hollow rounds. Taking a point of aim. Shiro laughed between the true portion of this fight began shaping full-on something associated with likeness of a Voidal presence alarming around the stage of this contest. Horns and demonic runes began burning his flesh and replacing his birthed markings. “Did I hit a nerve?” Before Kuro could hit the trigger Shiro ran his finger into the barrel jamming and stuffing it with a diamond icicle shard perfectly sculpted. Causing a clogged discharge and a catastrophic boom. At the same time releasing Kuro’s leg letting the forced impact entirely boom him ever comically over to the other side of the Ruins from a discharged recoil. He ate it up. Shiro manically became more unstable like a misperformance tune on a violin string. So this is what he sacrificed and sold his every remaining piece of humane for..? Good riddance. This power activated only in unmatched hatred and only festered parasitical growth. Captain’s entire frame clashed into a heap of old rubble as many additional falling slid onto his downed canvas in a burial pile. Shiro began a hymn step in casualty coolness while seeking to lecture and berate his cringe of a foe. “I uncovered recently in my travels all your memories of your loved one have stripped from you too, ironic, opposing my rightful claim in trying to get mine returned. However, I’d ask what you were doing coming here for this Treasured Relic was your intentions really any far from my own? Do you really believe yourself better than me, somehow, at all? That you could forgive yourself for letting that part of you freed. Yes… You threw all the other Stars to fall, those other so-called gems you go on about, everything and cast them aside for her sake, even abandoning the seas pledges in the pursuit of straying to whatever pact once that made you somewhat mildly amusing as a character. Though what makes your bond more important than mine? My sake is just as valued as yours! Losses of glory are always painful no matter so tell me your differences, fiend!” Long absence and pause happened on Captain’s side as he had to work much harder to catch his breathing from a hit like that. Suddenly softer pieces of rubble over-top began rolling down the pile. His hand breaking forth before shoveling himself into the landslide. Scratches, bruises, and blood already began dripping from him in disarray his eyebrow on his skin peeled back. His rigid lungs forced him to cough out the dust and debris.

As he slowly began to reclaim his posture. “Who said anything about mine is more important in comparison? I legitimately and full-hardheartedly messed up. It’s not my first-voyage or time, probably won’t be the last. I’ve been on the verge of being n’ the whole happily ever after sunset many times and I screwed them all up. There’s no blame outside my own. Look at me. I get n’ these types of injuries and situations all the time. This isn’t anything unusual, I’m a handful in every sense, sometimes, there’s more pain in that than the actual intended pleasure. Even to other Voidsents on my crew formerly, or mythical creature’s beyond mind, I can be an exhausting nightmare to even them. Ye think that’s healthy or stable or somehow certified sane? Doesn’t matter even if you’re eternal or everlasting or blessed by some creator that’s bound to taint and soil any waters. She cast me out and extended mercy on me and freed me even as I turned to the epitome of fright, a prediction she foresaw, even when I wanted to fog from reality.”

“T’ sow these rifts like this one I can’t make my departure soured without learning. No one deserves more happiness than what Ayla gave and should have gotten or any of the recognition I lacked in providing… I’ll always have a part of me that love’s her and owe every fortune I obtain here on and out as her claim too. But In order for that to transpire reassuringly all that I formerly had in the light and was known for my fame and all my signs of openly living must forever be the shadows ownership for now. Nightmares were meant to end when eyes are opened! So... WITH THAT BEING SAID. I’ll show you who I’m fighting for in this!” He took on a charge once again reinvigorated even knowing in every sense this was futile, outclassed and outmatched. Last time he came close to defeating Shiro first-time it took him preparing and actually expecting the battle. Using Grade 2 - Wyvern-Obsidian to carve through the Diamond Ice. He didn’t have that courtesy in this encounter. The pirate wasn’t selfishly throwing these in some self-made vault or intending to use any of the trophies acquired in usage. He wanted to secure and put them into a slumber further away from the worst in his sector corner. To let them be with either their people of origins or to reside with researchers in museums or artistic wonders if they didn’t forebode troublesome damnation. Regardless to Shiro’s belief the Captain had no plans or intentions to encounter his bettered-rival here in this map and next adventure and when he did stumble across and saw with his first sight. It broke a cord inside him with a sign of sympathy and regret. Shiro believes there was no such thing as a pirate of compassion. He was wrong alongside with that whole illusion of wishing-well when someone was in a compromised and fallen mood was a ruse. It was understandable coming from the upper echelon in society, people always swindled and played the same card to merely keep a connection or contact with status closely to them. There wasn’t an entire flaw in Shiro’s jaded thoughts though there was more depth he refused. Realms were led by statistics. It’s why categorization and separation hierarchies had to exist. There was realism and there was idealism. Those that weren’t taught the exact same ways as others those so-called privileged weren’t known by the same eld textbooks or hand-me-down spew from fossilized oaks. Those that had nothing but a scrap of their own knowledge and perception crafted their own past droid teachings. Eventually, there was one part of a group line that coherently believed in all formed free. Fears of free often were doubled-sided, naturally, as one part of the definition of free could simply just mean pure anarchy and chaos an excuse for lawlessness. While another believed that any and all forms of corrupt and foul could exist no matter the origins it was all individual influenced and decided. And shouldn’t be determined until active clarity was known but over time this became a worthless fight. It was easier just to knuckle up for these arguments and drive home their value. (Previous) — /References/ — ♫ ‘Black Holes’ — (Next Page)

#I don't care if it takes everything #So be it #Rivalry off the hinge #I'll melt #White Wolf #Black Lion #The Fated #Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV #Shiro Elune #My First Cage #reader discretion advised #creative writing

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

Text

Psycho Analysis: The League of Evil Exes

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is one of the greatest cult classics of the 2010s for a wide variety of reasons: it had great performances, it got a video game adaptation that didn’t suck, it had an awesome soundtrack, and best of all, it apparently ruined an entire generation of women! What couldn’t this movie do (besides make a profit at the box office)? Of course, more than anything, this movie delivered on the promise of its premise by having Scott Pilgrim fight against the seven evil exes of his manic pixie dream girl Ramona Flowers.

That’s right: There’s not one, not two, not three, but seven villains to talk about in this movie!

Thankfully, this massive amount of villains makes it a lot easier to talk about them, because each of them basically gets only a single scene with which to establish their characterization and deliver a fun, exciting battle. Still, it’s pretty interesting to look at them, especially since not all exes are created equal. As a note, I’m obviously not doing a “Best Scene” for these guys because... they basically have one scene each. It would be redundant.

Motivation/Goals: The League of Evil Exes has a very simple goal: to control the future of Ramona’s love life. As Lucas says during his battle with Scott: “The Seven Evil Exes? Coming to kill you? Controlling the future of Ramona's love life?” This is especially funny because Lucas is probably the least evil of the lot. While this is an incredibly simple motivation, it fits with the tone of the movie; this is a sort of a Bowser-esque motivation, one that perfectly fits a movie that is so steeped in video game culture.

Performance: Lets go one by one here:

Satya Bhabha is the first of the evil exes, Matthew Patel, and he really eases you into what to expect for the rest of the evil exes, though here “eases you into” means “grabs you by the balls and swings you over the head like a chimpanzee.” Despite his meager screentime, he makes the most of it, delivering a Bollywood-esque musical number complete with fireballs and demon hipster chicks and generally just hamming it up. This right here is just a warmup, though, because things get crazier from here – just like in a video game, really.

Lucas Lee, the second evil ex, is a big-shot movie star regarded as a pretty good actor by all who see him. Unfortunately, they got some unknown weirdo named Chris Evans to play him, but casting this obscure indie actor certainly paid off, because Lucas Lee’s smug, over-confident portrayal combined with his affable nature make him one of the most enjoyable characters in the movie. He really comes off as a cool, cocky guy who just happens to be going up against our hero as opposed to being an actual antagonizing force.

Todd Ingram is the other best evil ex, and much like Lee it’s mostly because he’s a pretty nice guy. However, the key difference is while Lee was cocky and affable, Ingram is just kind of a ditz. Played by one-time Superman Brandon Routh, he opts to go for the more subuded route, a cold ham as opposed to a large ham, and he definitely makes it work; I did call him the OTHER best evil ex, after all.

Then we come to Roxy Richter, played by Katara herself, Mae Whitman. She’s a very angry, tomboyish lesbian who gets in a lot of great lines and shows off a very jaded, irritated personality in her limited screentime. She’s definitely a lot of fun, though apparently she has a lot of elements of Envy Adams due to being combined with an early idea to make her Ramona’s evil ex in the movie.

The Katayanagi Twins. Ken and Kyle, are… nothing. Because Keita and Shota Saitou (Kyle and Ken, respectively) did not speak English, the twins have no lines and don’t really get to establish much of a presence before dying. It’s a bit unfortunate, because it becomes really easy to forget these two are here as a result.

Gideon Gordon Graves is a smarmy, smug, condescending jackass. You have met a man like him before, and you have wanted to punch his face in. Jason Schwartzman really amps up the sleaze when playing this creepy, controlling bastard, making him a fitting final boss.

Final Fate: Each and every one of them is defeated by the end of their scenes, bursting into progressively larger amounts of coins, with Patel being pretty meager in terms of value and Gideon literally making it rain when he’s defeated. It does kind of feel weird that the twins are worth more than a beloved actor like Lucas Lee, or that Roxy is worth more than both Lee and a musician like Ingram, but frankly this isn’t really a movie where you should be overthinking stuff to begin with.

Best Quote: I don’t think I can really say Patel or Gideon have amazing, quotable lines to the extent as some of the others, but I’d be pretty remiss to not mention Todd’s legendary “...Chicken isn’t vegan…?” and Roxy’s equally legendary “Well honey… I’m a little bi-FURIOUS!” here. Lucas Lee has a lot of good lines but he’s quite frankly too consistent for me to pick one; Chris Evans really just went all-out for this one.

Final Thoughts & Score: Once again, let’s go one by one:

Matthew Patel

Matthew is the definition of a warmup boss, at least by the standards of this film. He brings a lot of insanity to the table all at once, what with his demons and Bollywood musical number and sick dance moves, but the fact he’s probably not the most insane and baffling character in the film really tells you something. He definitely makes the most of his screentime, and while his fight is relatively short, it’s a lot of fun. This man deserves an S-L-ICK 8/10.

Lucas Lee

Lucas Lee is probably the second best evil ex in the movie. He’s just so cocky, arrogant, and hilarious, and he still manages to come off as a bit polite. Its like if Captain America and Ransom Drysdale had a baby, Lucas Lee would be it. The fact he’s played by a pre-superstardom Chris Evans really is the icing on the cake here though, because his battle is fun and ends with Scott defeating him by playing into his arrogance. Ah! But he didn’t get his autograph… Oh well. Lucas Lee is an easy 10/10.

Todd Ingram

As much as I love Lee, I have to say that Todd easily has the most impressive fight in the entire film, in large part due to his awesome psychic powers he gains from being a vegan. I gave one of his legendary quotes up there, but frankly, the entire battle is awesome and quotable, the fact that at least half the battle is a rock-off is great, and the fact Scott tricks him in the most stupidly amazing to defeat him and put him at the mercy of the Vegan Police is just amazing. There’s also just the sheer novelty of how, with the power in hindsight, we got to see Superman (Routh) dating Captain Marvel (Brie Larson portrayed Envy, Scott’s ex and Todd’s girlfriend and bandmate). Todd is just a perfect, lovable idiot villain, and deserves nothing less than a 10/10.

Roxy Richter

Roxy actually gets to show up twice in the film, getting a brief scene with Scott a while before her identity is revealed. While her screentime doesn’t really amount to much, it really is incredible how much characterization they managed to pack into her limited screentime, her dialogue really selling how she is easily the most bitter and angry off all the exes. She seems genuinely hurt at some points that Ramona left her and considers her just a phase, though this of course doesn’t stop her from trying to ruin her life. In a weird way, I’d almost call her the most complex of the exes, and Mae Whitman does a great job at selling her. I will say though, despite her fight scene being filled with some of the best dialogue in the film (which is saying a lot, mind you), the overall fight is a little lackluster, and Ramona getting in makes it reek of “designated girl fight.” Still, there’s nothing so egregious about her that I’d give her anything less than a 9/10.

The Katayanagi Twins

These two, quite simply, suck. They get absolutely no characterization, they get no dialogue due to the actors not speaking English, they get no personality. They are, quite simply, just there, and they are just there because Scott needs to fight a fifth and sixth ex. There’s really not much to say here except that their fight scene is admittedly pretty cool and it’s fun to imagine how the hell their relationship with Ramona worked. Did they date her one after the other? Were they in a weird poly relationship? Did they both just spitroast her on the weekends? For those two things I’ll save them from the very bottom of the barrel and give them a 2/10.

Gideon Gordon Graves

Gideon is a smug, evil, controlling creep for sure, and he is the final evil ex Scott must face. But the thing is, he kind of doesn’t feel any more wieighty than any of the others? Gideon is for all intents and purposes the final boss, and while he does get a little buildup, it all comes in the final acts of the film. It certainly doesn’t make him a bad villain – he actually manages to temporarily kill Scott, and puts up more of a fight than any of the others – but considering how awesome Todd, Lucas, Roxy, and Matthew were in style and personality, Gideon kind of comes off as underwhelming. Yes, he is definitely the most evil of the exes, but he just doesn’t really have the “WOW” factor the others do. He’s an 8/10 for sure.

Well, I guess that’s it, that’s every villain in the mo-

Wait?

What’s this?!

Psycho Analysis: Nega Scott

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#Psycho Analysis #Scott Pilgrim #Scott Pilgrim vs. the World #The League of Evil Exes #Matthew Patel #Lucas Lee #Todd Ingram #Roxy Richter #Katayanagi Twins #Gideon Gordon Graves #Chris Evans #Mae Whitman #Brandon Routh #jason schwartzman

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