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#and that wasn't just ''terrible human being''
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Some of the criticism of the show is valid and some of it is just...people lacking any sort of nuance or comprehension skills.
1) "They are stupid and irresponsible for being together in the public". Yes, but also the public doesn't know ji han is a chaebol and ah jeung is a no name actress. The public also doesn't know who Dohan's financee is. Only the wedding has been announced. It's not surprising at all that the two dumbasses thought they could be together without being seen. Ji han has no reason to believe his step siblings would send a reporter after him knowing it's Dohan's position they are after. Something so obvious shouldn't be have to be spelled out by the writers for you lot.
2) "How could that bitxh Ah jeong have the audacity to have feelings that don't revolve around Dohan? She should have continued being miserable and uncomfortable because it is only Dohan's safety and comfort that matters." No woman should put herself through so much pain for another man not even for her gay best friend. If you want to watch women make decisions centered around their relationship with a man then plenty of shitty BLS and works by incels with one dimensional fl characters exist.
3) Dohan, ji ahn and ah jeong are flawed human beings. None of their mistakes deprive them of their humanity and their right to love and be loved.
4) kdrama viewers have a meltdown every time a character makes decisions that are not the most ethically, culturally or rationally correct. It's not bad writing if a character makes a terrible choice CONSISTENT with their character.
5) But the outrage is always more loud for a FEMALE character every single fucking time. Like clockwork. Not only are you guys consistently boring with the demand for characters to stay conventional but also consistently MISOGYNISTIC.
6) Both ji han and ah jeong fought their feelings for each other before finally giving in. It wasn't immediate. They both are clearly guilty. Both of them wanted to talk to Dohan about this. He was the first person they wanted to talk to. He was on their minds on the date too.They only went out together as a couple to a STRANGE PLACE for ONE DAY where they thought they would be safe. Why are people acting like they have been hiding their relationship for ages? They didn't even get the chance to be public yet. NO, THEM ROAMING IN A STRANGE PLACE DOESN'T COUNT AS PUBLIC BECUASE NO ONE AROUND THEM KNOWS.
7) MEDIA SHOULD NEVER CATER TO YOUR MORALES OR FEELINGS. This world consists of average people who make horrible choices and who hurt themselves and others. I like watching them on screen. Hope more kdramas are courageous enough to experiment with genuine character flaws that aren't just being 'quirky' or a 'tsundere'.
8) None of the characters one this show are 'morally dubious or gray'. They just are people with flaws. Idk maybe read a book or two or watch peaky blinders.
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queers-gambit · 7 hours
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Damage Done
prompt: The Winter Soldier is activated and Bucky's lover is unlucky enough to be in proximity.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 5.4k+
note: oh, wow, Cherry wrote Bucky NOT in a Mafia AU?
warnings: takes place during Civil War, absolutely no plot - author just doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. cursing, violence, small angst, injury, blood, hurt and comfort, Winter Soldier antics, choking, abrupt ending, maybe domestic violence? it's the WS.
it's really not that bad, it's not terribly descriptive but still tread carefully if triggered by these topics.
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"Keep them together," Agent Everett Ross commanded, a little man with a raging Napoleon Complex, gesturing at you and Bucky; the latter held in mobile, restrictive captivity. "He doesn't play nice if he doesn't see her, or so it's said," his eyes rolled.
"You're making a huge mistake!" You barked, struggling in the restraints they had you wrapped in.
"No, I don't think so," he sneered, approaching you as Bucky's unit kept moving. "I think the mistake was letting you out of anyone's sight. Tell me, how long have you been in cahoots with the Winter Soldier?"
"He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, you jackass, he's a person! A real, live human being! His name's James but he prefers Bucky! He likes plums," you were yanked away, still snarling, "his favorite color is blue, likes motorcycles, he has real guilt over his past transgressions, and you've got the wrong guy!"
"Oh, right, like you're the best judge of character," Ross laughed.
"Natasha! Nat! Fucking tell him!" You pleaded, struggling in the hold of the men who kept iron clad restraint on you and were starting to drag you away. "You've got the wrong guy! Bucky didn't do this! I wouldn't lie - not to you, Natasha! Tell him!"
"That's touching, really sweet," Ross mocked, rolling his eyes as you were finally overpowered and lead away.
"Hang on a second," Nat muttered, sharing a look with Tony. "Was her DNA or facial recognition anywhere at the UN? Anywhere near where the bomb was set off?"
"What's that matter - "
"Since they met, they've not parted ways," Nat spelled out. "He won't go anywhere without her - you, yourself, are keeping them together for interrogation - "
"It's just easier," Ross scoffed.
"No, you know..." She blinked in confusion, "You know, Bucky won't talk unless she's there - you know he'll be ten times as difficult if she's not in the room."
"So?"
"So, in the past two years, have you heard about him without her? Have you seen her without him?"
"Nobody's seen or heard from either of them," Ross shook his head.
"Exactly," she nodded, lungs tightening with nerves. "If you can't find evidence of her being in Vienna... Bucky might not be your guy... Besides, they're both trained to avoid cameras - "
"Mistakes are made," Ross waved off.
"Not by two highly trained assassins like them," she snapped. "Check the files, go back - look! Actually look, run her scans through facial recognition - if you don't find her, it wasn't Bucky."
"You're so sure?" Tony asked skeptically.
"I know her," Natasha nodded, "better than anyone. She's as good as my sister, she's as good as blood. I know her. I know she wouldn't run this risk - "
"Then you also know she wouldn't get caught," Ross laughed.
"Neither would Bucky."
The silence stretched, but Ross was stubborn; sneering at the Avengers and taking his leave with his own plan of action in mind. He left Tony and Natasha to deal with Sam and Steve as he went to observe the interrogation. When he got before the monitors, he watched as it took four different men to restrain you enough to hoist your locks up the wall until they were clicked in place by ultra-strength magnets.
You jostled, feeling the full extent of your containment, grunting when the pipe you were connected to shocked your entire system into submission. Everett Ross smirked at your pain; watching your tongue swipe over your teeth, arms high above your head, readjusting your weight in your feet, but otherwise, not moving.
Ross heard Bucky ask quietly, his eyes watching you carefully from inside the reinforced cell, "You okay, doll?"
"Looks like they learned from last time," you grit, the cuffs around your wrists electrified; charring your skin, making you grimace slightly in a veiled attempt to hide your pain from your lover.
"Don't fight, you'll make it worse," he advised softly, frowning, eyes glassy from restrained emotion.
"They could've at least put me in a bit more comfortable position," you sneered, glaring up at one of the cameras, shaking your head as if in disappointment.
"I don't think they want to play nice, sweetheart."
"Yeah, could've guessed that from when they arrested us," you shook your head, puckering your lips to gather the blood in your mouth; spitting it to the floor. "You good, baby?" You asked as the men who restrained you moved to plug in the power cell caging Bucky.
He nodded silently at you, bowing his head and letting his long locks curtain his face. You frowned, shifting again as you blindly felt your cuffs and designed a way to get free; watching the men stoically as they exited the room to make way for the psychologist. Your jaw clenched, the air smelling foul - alerting you that something wasn't quite right.
"Hello, Mr. Barnes," the accented man greeted casually, standing at a single table in front of Bucky, you off to the side; chains rattling as your defenses flared. The psychologist smirked and greeted you, too, assuring your real identity was known - something that Natasha released to the world about two years ago when HYDRA sent Bucky after Cap in DC. You didn't fault her, in fact, you respected her move, and after getting out of the blown-to-shit base, you had run into the Winter Soldier... Beginning your epic love story, both of you on the run from authorities and higher powers.
You smuggled Bucky out of the country, using fake aliases that had yet to see the light of day and therefor, wasn't released in the files Nat published during her takedown of the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. agency. He was appreciative, pondering how he was meant to go forward in a world he didn't know; so, you agreed to stick around for a bit to help settle him, and that bit turned into a couple of years - the two of you inseparable.
There was an incident in London that almost exposed you, but instead, it just shined a light on your new partnership. Captain American, Nat, Sam, shit - even Tony Stark himself was unable to catch up; your trail going cold, Nat knowing your Widow training was running the show and keeping you safe. Granted, she probably could've unraveled the web you had weaved - but the truth was, she didn't want to. So, she kept quiet. Leading you all here...
"I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you both," the man you'd come to know as Helmut Zemo continued; playing his part very well, but not well enough to convince you of his innocence. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked politely, feigning like you two had a choice. When he did, Zemo continued, "Your first name is James?"
He noted the way Bucky and you shared a look, both remaining silent. Zemo tried to assure, "I'm not here to judge you - either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Continued silence, your head subtly shaking - an act only Bucky clocked. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."
"My name is Bucky," he croaked, your sigh echoing around the room.
"Hm," Zemo nodded, "I take it, she doesn't want you to talk?"
"She wants me safe," Bucky answered stiffly.
"That is admirable," the psychologist offered kindly, "a great display of love, is it not?"
"Jesus Christ," you shook your head, offering a glare, "you went through all that schooling to ask stupid fucking questions? Might wanna get your money back."
Zemo chuckled after humming, "I am merely trying to establish the connection you two share. I hear it is rare to find one without the other, that you two have become, uh, joined at the hip?"
"I protect her," Bucky offered, sharing a long look with you, "and she protects me."
"An equal partnership, would you say?"
"Yes."
"Buck," you warned, wrists twisting to hold the cuffs; being zapped, making your jaw clench and the veins in your neck to bulge.
"It's all right," his voice sounded like it was being put through a grater. "We're caught, doll, it's all right."
You huffed, eyeing Zemo as his eyes flickered between you two. He nodded, making a note in his little book, "I was warned that you would be unwilling to cooperate without her present. Why is that?"
"She keeps me safe."
Zemo hummed, "So you've said, and yet... Here you both are..." You were ready to lash out, but the doctor changed course, "Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"
"I don't wanna talk about it." Your restraints zapped you again when you jolted forward as if to physically silence Zemo, Bucky's head snapping over and his eyes drooping in sympathy. "Told you not to move, it'll only get worse," he told you softly.
"He's asking questions that will get him killed," you snarled, gritting your teeth as the electric currents seized most of your energy. But it was worth it, finding a little weak spot and letting your mind devise a specific plan.
"You fear," Zemo continued, "that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. I feel it is safe to assume, uh, your lady is privy to your past experiences? Perhaps, you two have shared a couple?"
"Just leave her out of this," Bucky pleaded.
"Don't worry," he assured you both, tapping something on his tablet before looking back at Bucky with a sick recognition. "We only have to talk about one. One mission... That I know you," he nodded at you, "were not present for."
"Kinda game you playin', Doc?" You sneered. "Think anything he says will change my opinion about him?"
"No, no, I know your relationship is too strong for that," Zemo smiled. "So, it's not so much what he will say... But what he will do..."
"The fuck does that - "
But then, the lights went out; darkening the room save for the lights individual to Bucky's holding cell. You perked up, the electric currents halting as the cuffs died with the power and gave you an opportunity to begin working on your escape. As red panic lights flickered, Bucky questioned, "What the hell is this?"
"Why don't we discuss your home?" Zemo offered. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no," he reached into his satchel, revealing a red notebook the world thought long lost... Buried in snow... Forgotten in time. "I mean, your real home," Zemo removed his glasses as you frantically started working.
"No, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, hey, don't - fuck!" You grit, trying harder to free yourself. "Bucky - Bucky, don't listen - ah, Goddamnit!"
The man you now understood to be a fake psychologist stood with a little flashlight, opening the red notebook, and began repeating words in Russian that would activate the decommissioned Winter Soldier. Bucky had told you all about these words, begging you to provide a shield against them should they ever be uttered again; but you had prior knowledge, the Winter Soldier someone you had been debriefed on during your time with other secret agencies.
"Longing."
"No," Bucky whispered, head tilting back in panic as he felt his stomach curl in a familiar pattern.
"Bucky - don't fucking listen, please!" You begged, still working to free yourself.
"Rusted."
"Stop," Bucky pleaded, sounding in pain.
"Don't do this!" You pleaded to Zemo. "You're fucking hurting him, please, stop!"
"Seventeen."
"Stop!" Bucky barked, his vibranium hand clenching in anger and pain; the entire arm whirring from the flex of his muscle. He began to pant, a deep growl emitting above your panicked whimpers.
"Daybreak!"
"You have no idea what you're doing!" You raged, Bucky screaming in pain as his mind was forcibly sunk back into dark recesses of his past. "Don't - Bucky, baby, listen to me - don't fucking listen to him, please, please, baby, don't do this!"
He screamed, breaking free of the iron restraints that kept him seated in the reinforced, mobile cell. "Furnace!" Zemo continued, ignoring the pain and panic you and Bucky were both thrown into.
"Fucking stop, please! You don't understand!" You begged, freeing one hand and working in vain to unlatch the other. Bucky was out of his seat, anger coursing like a palpable rain over you all - him screaming as his metal arm worked to pound into the strengthened glass surrounding him.
"Nine!"
"Bucky, please, baby, please, don't do this!" You tried a new tactic, hoping you were enough to cut through the brainwashing - but how silly to imagine. Decades of trauma was washing over Bucky again and your little words couldn't cut through the barricades of his mind.
"Benign!"
"You stupid fucking little man!"
Zemo rounded around the cell, Bucky still pounding away at the glass. "Homecoming! One!"
"DON'T!"
"Freight car!"
You whimpered in fear when Bucky punched the entire door off the hinges, freeing him at last; but the words were spoken, the damage done. He crouched on the floor, Zemo pausing to take in the sight, slowly approaching Bucky as he stood upright; the jangling of your chains louder and more frantic as you tried to free your last wrist.
"Jesus Christ," you whispered, trying to divide focus between the two tasks of freeing yourself and protecting Bucky - but being terribly unsuccessful as you watched Zemo stand in front of your dead-eyed boyfriend.
What a ridiculous, mundane label to assign someone like Bucky.
In Russian, Zemo questioned, "Soldier?"
And in Russian, the man you loved answered, "Ready to comply."
Zemo demanded in English, "Mission report. December 16, 1991."
You whimpered in fear, listening to Bucky give the report that would haunt you for years to come. Just as he finished, you managed to get out of the cuffs, but the clanging of your freed restraints caught Zemo's attention - who smirked with abundant cruelty. "Don't," you warned, backing out of the room just as officers began to flood it.
It was a brutal fight, trying to stave off Bucky once in his Winter Soldier mindset. You grunted as he engaged you, men dead at your feet - the lucky ones just knocked out. You grit your teeth, trying to defend yourself as Bucky operated mechanically; doing what you could to protect yourself, but it wasn't enough.
Blows landed, punching and kicking one another in an equal match of strength and stamina.
"Seize her," Zemo demanded, and in the next moment, Bucky had you by the neck; an effort that made you wheeze and claw at his bionic hand.
"Bucky," you begged. "Baby - baby - it's me, it's me, please, don't, it's me! Don't do this, baby, please, come back to me. Come back!" You struggled in his grip, trying to pry his hand open, "Baby, please, please, come back to me," spit drooled from your lips as he squeezed tighter. "This isn't you!" You managed to squeeze out, tears surfacing. "Not anymore, don't let them win!"
"Shut her up, Solider," Zemo commanded in Russian, your eyes widening and trying to beg Bucky again before he was sending you into a wall. He marched up to you, grabbing your hair, and surging his balled up metal fist directly into the bridge of your nose, breaking it, head jolting backwards, and effectively knocking you out.
When you came back into consciousness, it was to Steve's worried face; his hands caressing your cheeks and begging, "You all right?"
"Fucking hell," you winced, reaching up to prod the tender spot on your head; revealing blood.
"Got your ass kicked, huh?" He frowned.
"Watch your language, Cap," you smirked, wincing when your face throbbed. "Shit, how bad is it?"
He looked you over, offering, "Definitely a broken nose."
"Goddamnit - where is he? Where's Bucky?"
"Help me," a voice pleaded from the next room, Zemo playing his part by splaying out on the floor like bait.
"Don't trust him, something ain't right about him, Steve," you whispered, waving him on as you sluggishly hoisted yourself up the wall to lean against it. "Kept asking about Siberia, asking about shit nobody should actually know."
"Get yourself safe," Steve told you swiftly, nodding at Sam; who was checking on the status of the other bodies around you.
"Just find him, Steve, he's lost in his own mind - a threat to himself," you panted, slowly standing.
"I know - "
"You don't know," you shook your head, wiping a trickle of blood from your temple, "but you're gonna have to do more than understand him right now, Steve."
"I've got this," he promised, watching you nod and limp away. You had just missed the action, Bucky overpowering both Sam and Steve; getting to a safety landing and running into Natasha, Tony, and Agent Sharon Carter.
"We'll hash our bullshit out later," you panted, "but for now - "
You heard a commotion behind you, flinching out of sight when Bucky made himself known and began taking down rogue agents unlucky enough to stand before the Winter Soldier.
"He have an off switch?" Nat asked.
"Not that I've found," you frowned. "Split up."
Tony tried to engage Bucky first, using a mobile Iron Man device he wore on his wrist that used sonics to disorient Bucky. It only worked to a small extent, the two exchanging a few blows, Bucky firing a bullet at Tony's face at pointblank range that was saved by his technologically advanced glasses. Bucky got the upper hand, sending Tony flying back, letting Sharon and Nat attack.
He disposed of them both easily, stumbling when you caught him off guard and wrapped your legs around him. Normally, you'd do anything to have your legs around him - but this wasn't one of those times. You exchanged several punches, blocking one another, going for disarming hits but being of equal challenge; leaving small cuts and blooming bruises on each other as if to prove the engagement. Natasha rejoined the fight, two Widows showing Bucky up on a few instances, but he was heaving her across the room as you swung onto his shoulders in an impressive acrobatic move.
You heaved your fists down in a repeated fashion on the top of his head, Bucky charging at one of the cafe tables; slamming you down and choking you again with his metal hand. Both your hands held his, legs up around his neck to try to keep him at a distance for relief on your windpipe.
Through a strangled breath, you managed, "You could at least recognize me!"
"Who said I don't?" He growled, reaching out to snap a piece of wood from a chair.
You tried to regain normal breath, wheezing, "This isn't you, baby, you are not this person anymore - you're not a psychotic, robot killer! You're a man - please!"
"You don't know a damn thing about me," he seethed.
"I know everything about you," you strangled, "and I know this isn't you. Come back to me, baby, please! Y-You can't let the demons win, Buck, please - fucking listen to me!" But he only raised the wooden shaft above his head. "BUCKY, DON'T!"
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
You cried out shrilly when he jabbed the sharp wood into your shoulder, staking you to the table just as King T'Challa rushed onto the scene and stole your brainwashed boyfriend's attention. You hissed in pain, trying to yank the wood free but being unsuccessful; resulting in blood to splatter onto the tiled floor.
Hearing someone pant your name, you caught a glimpse of red and knew it was Nat, her face worried over yours a moment later. "Where's Bucky?" You coughed and winced in pain.
"Goin' up by the looks of it," she informed, "now hang on, this is gonna hurt. Want a belt to bite?"
"No, just do it, get it done, please," you panted, bracing yourself, and suddenly, without warning, your companion heaved the piercing shaft free from your flesh. Naturally, you cried out, groaning and clenching your jaw so tight, it nearly crushed your teeth into dust.
"Hey, you seen..." Sam arrived on scene, taking in your injury, "Holy shit, you good?"
"Yeah," you grunted, stumbling to your feet as blood bloomed into a bigger, brighter blemish on your tactical shirt. "We gotta go, Sam, we should get outta here."
"Hang on," Nat paused you two, your opposite hand holding your wound; her hands occupied by a smart device, "looks like Bucky tried to highjack a helicopter. Steve stopped him, but it resulted in them all crashing in the river."
"Shit," Sam breathed. "We gotta go find them."
"We need to get outta here, you know, away from the cops and agents," your head shook. "Get somewhere safe, away from this catastrophe. We'll regroup with Steve."
"Go," Nat permitted, "I won't say a word."
"You're one of a kind, Nat," you praised, pecking her cheek. "Let's go, Sam. And grab that First Aid kit," you pointed to the wall where the white box was mounted. He agreed and you lead the way out of the facility.
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Bucky groaned as he woke up, head lulling back before realizing he couldn't move his metal arm; finding it clamped in industrial weights. Sam called you both to attention, but while Steve jogged over, you remained in your place out of sheer distress.
You only vaguely listened to the conversation, hands trembling as your shoulder was bandaged to prevent further injury or infection. You did what you could to patch up any injury, and when you heard your name, you dialed in; Bucky asking, "Where is she? Is she okay?"
"You don't remember?" Sam sneered.
"No..."
"You stabbed her," the Falcon growled.
"What? N-No, I-I-I couldn't've - I wouldn't!"
"You did," Steve confirmed, pity coloring his words. "Punched her out pretty well, choked her, too. Broke her nose..."
"Please - Steve, please, tell me I didn't."
"I'm sorry, Buck."
"That why she's not here? She's in a hospital?"
"Actually, no," Sam trailed, "she's just in the other room."
"She didn't want to come here?"
Steve sighed as Sam informed, "Don't think she wants to see you right now, man."
"I didn't mean to hurt her."
"We know," Steve swiftly promised, nodding his head. "She knows it, too, you just have to give her some time."
Bucky looked utterly defeated, murmuring, "I scared her. Oh, my God, I scared her..."
"Gotta agree with you there."
"Sam," Steve reprimanded. "Look, Buck, she'll come around."
You waited until the two men left Bucky alone to regroup and stratify a new course of action. Slowly and almost sheepishly, you entered where Bucky was being kept, steps silent but he heard you anyways. His blue eyes flashed in concern as he met your gaze, mouth opening and closing as if words failed him.
"Doll," he finally breathed, "a-are you all right?"
"I'm okay."
"Don't bullshit me, how hard did I hit you? Steve said I broke your nose, I-I'm so sorry, doll, please believe me. What'd I do to your shoulder? Is that where I stabbed you?"
"Buck," you sighed, slowly squatting in front of him, "I need you to take a breath and know that I understand you were not in your right state of mind. You were forcibly triggered and sent back into that way of thinking, I know it wasn't you."
"I still hurt you, I still did it."
"Did you, though?" Your head cocked, eyes narrowing slightly, "Because I know my Bucky wouldn't hurt me, would never dare lay a hand on me - but the Winter Solider is a different story. You didn't do this, Buck, you weren't you."
"I can smell the fear on you."
"Well, yeah, it fuckin' scared me. I tried to stop that fake doctor, I tried to help, tried to save you and keep your safe. I'm sorry I was too slow, that I failed."
"You didn't fail anything, sweetheart... I-I failed you, I broke my promise to never hurt you."
"No, you didn't. The Winter Solider did all that, not my Bucky."
He frowned, repeating to ask softly, "Your Bucky?"
"My Bucky - the kind, charismatic, impossibly stubborn, kind hearted man I've loved the past couple of years who always gives me the crispiest fries, who has nightmares, who loves me unconditionally despite what I, too, have done in my past. And you know what I was doing out there while Sam and Steve talked to you?"
"What's that, doll?"
"Understanding that loving someone means loving their flaws, accepting them exactly as they are. So, while, yes, the Winter Solider scares the fuck outta me, he's still part of you and I can't authentically love you if I reject the Soldier."
His head shook "Your kindness is wasted on me."
"I think you should let me decide what's a waste and what's not when it comes to my own energy and emotion."
"I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. You're better off without me, baby, you and I both know you're better off keeping your distance. You should get out now while you still can."
"Not gonna happen. 'Cause you know what else I realized?" You reached up to caress his cheek, "I trust you beyond reasonable doubt, I trust you even if I'm afraid of the Winter Solider. I should've been faster, I should've helped you more, but I was powerless against that red notebook."
"You and I, both..."
You pet the cheek you were holding. "Buck, I know it was scary, I know how it must've felt being forced back into that mindset, but I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul - you're not gonna scare me off. Because I love you, Bucky, and every single part of you - whether choking me out or not. Whether I earn a broken nose or not."
"I'm so sorry. I-I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I hate that I hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby, I can't - I can't even put it in words how much I regret putting you in that position."
You smirked, "See? The Winter Soldier has no remorse, but my Bucky does." You gingerly reached out to curl his hair behind his ear. "My Bucky apologizes and takes accountability. There's no reason to not love that man - especially when he deserves it so much. Hey? Hear me? You deserve to be loved, too, Buck."
"And you deserve a man who doesn't run the risk of being turned into a psycho killing machine over a few measly words."
"I deserve to love my best friend, so let me do that. Say whatever you want, try to push me away - but I'm like a boomerang, baby, I'll just come right back."
"What kinda man puts his best girl in that kinda position? Who hurts the most important person in his life?"
"A man who endured decades of abuse," you laid your hands on either of his thighs, "a man who wasn't allowed control of his own mind. I can't - no, no, I won't fault you for that, Buck. Today wasn't your fault and I'll remind you of that as often as it takes. Don't you dare feel guilty because you didn't do this to me, okay? You didn't put me in any position - that fake fucking doctor did this, Agent Ross did this, special ops put us here. You, my sweet boy, didn't do anything to be at fault. You were trapped, but look at you now - freed, level headed, talking to me."
His eyes gleamed with a sheen of emotion, staring at the bloodied bandage wrapping your shoulder wound before his eyes danced over the bruising and other aftermath of your injuries. "I could've killed you," he muttered, tears filling his eyes.
"But you didn't - and surprisingly, neither did the Winter Soldier. Maybe there was a part of you still alive, wanting to refuse orders and not actually hurt me."
"Perhaps," he frowned. "I'm still so sorry, doll, I hate that I did this to you. It never should've happened."
Your head nodded, "I know, baby, and listen - I forgive you. Yeah? Hear me? I forgive you, this is in the past."
"Are you sure about me? You sure you wanna do this? Knowing I could flip a switch and hurt you - maybe even worse than today?"
"I'm sure about you, Buck," you agreed. "I don't wanna be without you, so, sign me up for whatever's to come."
"You might regret that."
"The only thing I could ever regret is abandoning you. I don't want to do this without you - I love our life together. In any world, in any lifetime, I'd still choose you. There's nothing that would make me regret you - regret being with you."
"You sure? I don't want to make you do anything out of your comfort."
"I love you, Bucky, yes, I'm sure. No matter what damage you think you might've caused, whatever damage has been done, I promise, that's not the truth. There's nothing about you that I could regret."
"Well, all that's left now is to get to Siberia, stop the other Winter Soldiers."
"And figure out a way to free your mind once and for all... It's what you deserve," you told him softly, rocking to your knees to meet his forehead with yours and caressing his cheek again. When you heard approaching footsteps, you sighed and pulled away from him to stand and turn, spying Sam and Steve. "C'mon, Cap, get him outta this. He's not gonna attack anyone," you requested, gesturing where your boyfriend was trapped.
"You sure?" Sam asked stiffly. "He did a real number on you alone. Not to mention all the other agents and cops he took out back there."
"He's good," you snapped, perking your brows at Steve, "and you two would do well not to throw what happened in his face, it wasn't his fault. So c'mon, free him, he's not a wild animal."
Steve agreed and lifted the machinery from Bucky's prosthetic, him instantly snatching it back and massaging where the joint met metal. Bucky stood with a set stare at Sam and Steve, as if anticipating them to lunge at him. His throat constricted, swelled with emotion when you stepped in front of him - posing barrier between the two Avengers and himself.
"You still got that phone on you?" Steve asked you softly.
"I do."
"Is it still unregistered?"
"You know it is. Who're we calling?"
"Reinforcements. We're gonna need help now that the Avengers will be looking for us. We gotta get to Siberia."
"Here," you agreed, unlocking the device and handing it over. "Who's first on your list?"
"Any Avenger who didn't sign the Sokovia Accords."
When he walked away with Sam again, you turned to face your lover directly; staring into swirling storms of baby blues. "You still with me?" You asked softly, reaching up to caress his hair again to push it behind his ear.
"Always. Got my six?"
"You know I do, baby," you smirked, stepping into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "We'll figure this out, together."
"Together," he agreed, sighing deeply and returning your embrace tightly. His flesh hand rose to hold the back of your head, bringing his lips down to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. His voice rattled quietly, "Thank you..."
"Hmm? For what, handsome?"
"Believing in me. It's nice to think we can end this torment."
You smiled up at him, "You deserve freedom, Bucky, and to live without this haunting fear."
"I don't know about 'deserving' it, sweetheart. Done a lot of things that would argue against that."
"Maybe against the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deserves the world. Deserves kindness, accommodation, love and understanding. Now," you smirked and sniffled, giving his waist another squeeze before releasing and pulling back, "get your head outta this pit and focus, we've got a long day ahead of us."
He agreed, letting you take his hand and lace fleshy fingers together in a tether. Sam's face remained stoic and passive, but when Steve saw you two, he couldn't help but smile. Two years he hunted for Bucky and just today, he's learned his best friend's been shacked up with you - a warmth blooming in his chest over the idea of you two finding one another and loving each other.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Marvel masterlist
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a-s-levynn · 24 days
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@corviisquire You have no idea how much i love you for this creature design
Btw the gold parts and the tentacles are glossy and have a slight 3d effect, the scanner just can't pick it up
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pkann18 · 3 months
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potential spoilers for pokemon sv dlcs
i haven't bought or played pokemon sv btw
but kieran and carmine are such kids, yanno? and i mean that in a "they're both young and learning how to be in a world dominated by pokemon battling on top of regular kid problems like insecurity" way.
like yeah they both messed up in different ways, but they eventually grow and learn to be better individuals in the end of the latest dlc.
what i'm saying is these characters are just kids, give them some grace and understanding that you'd afford real people
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tillbonesshow · 10 months
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Hey everyone back on another episode of why the fuck is my mother like this?
#ok rant time#i was thinking about enjoying a movie since i haven't in a long time and she was sleeping#i turned off the lights and sat down to watch it but she woke up and got into the room asking why I'm in the dark multiple times in an-#-aggressive way and turned on the lights#she then started asking 'what are you hiding from me you would only be in the dark if you're hiding something'#she ruined the whole mood and my night and then fucked off to sleep again#i can't enjoy a movie or really anything anymore cause she's glued to my fucking hip#if i smile at my phone she asks what I'm doing if I'm texting with my phone she asks who I'm talking to if I'm laughing she asks what I'm-#-laughing about if I'm watching something she asks what I'm watching if i woke before here she asks what i did and what i ate before she-#-woke up#stop just fucking stop i don't want to see your stupid fucking face anymore shut up get away from me I'm a fucking adult leave me alone#I'd be happy with her being annoying if she wasn't a terrible fucking human but she is i fucking hate this so much just shut up shut up#i fucking hate this house so much i want to burn it down with me in it#why the hell do i have to live with her constantly annoying me venting to me taking out her anger on me but my siblings can have their own-#-lives outside of this#this isn't fucking fair i never fucking asked for this any of this why why the hell is it always me that has to suffer#why the fuck is it me that got bullied and hit by my eldest brother for years but then i got threatened to be kicked out of the house by my-#-mother i was a fucking child why the fuck do she always side with anyone else that isn't me then has the fucking nerve to demand i treat-#-her like a friend she will fucking never be my friend i won't forget what she did and what she does she will never be my fucking friend
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hrhgeorgerussell · 9 months
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I just deleted TikTok because these people are taking it too far and I can't stand it anymore. Someone made an AI video of Jules Bianchi telling the story of his own death. This has to stop oh my God.
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agentravensong · 4 months
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my parents asked if i wanted to go with them to see the new napolean movie this afternoon. i was not interested (espec after looking at the length and average ecritic scores) so i stayed home and finally got around to reading this is how you lose the time war instead. 1000% the correct decision, holy shit
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habsjost · 5 months
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i'm trying real hard to overcome my social anxiety but gosh some days it really is just unbearable 🙃
#like i saw someone on here make a comment that wasn't even directly about me#but it easily could have been and so ofc my mind started spiralling#i love all of my mutuals but sometimes i'm convinced they hate me </3#and usually my social anxiety is more prevalent irl which is why i use social media as an escape#but when it's on social media... gosh i just feel trapped#like when a regular hasn't interacted with me in a while i immediately go#'oh no they found out i'm a terrible human being and then told everyone'#'and now we can never be friends'#or when people don't respond to my last text that wasn't just a one-word/emoji...#that stuff happens so damn often and i always blame myself for not being interesting or cool or mentally stable enough#i shouldn't even care bc why does it matter what ppl think of me#especially ppl who aren't even close to me#but that's the anxiety lol#but i do try to focus on the positives / the people who actually know me & love me#like my closest friends (kailyn especially <3)#or one of the clients i work with who calls me 'darling'#or the boy i like who thinks i'm 'gorgeous' 🥹#just the little things... the reassurance#it really means the world to me#and that proves to myself that i'm not difficult. even when i feel like i'm hard to love i remember that i really don't ask for much#and i always give twice the love i get#so anyways i'm just gonna keep reading the books that help me mentally#and talking to the people that make me feel like i'm easy to love#social anxiety#**
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songprof · 2 months
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current struggle in putting together my ideas for this portrayal is being unable to decide just how chaotically divergent i wanna get
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pheonix-inside · 6 months
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The musical I'm in rn at school is really fun and has really interesting themes about marriage and gender and relationships in general in the 70s, but my god do I die inside whenever we rehearse one of the songs that basically boils down to the male characters not liking their wives and objectifying other women. Hahahaha.
At least my character's husband loves her. 😒
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theminecraftbee · 2 months
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"So, and I can't believe I have to be the guy to point this out," Doc starts hesitantly.
"Terrible start! Go on," Cleo says.
"But you seem to be one of the only sane people left right now," Doc continues.
"Even more terrible, although I appreciate your delusion," Cleo says.
"And I have to--you know, if you're going to make fun of me for bringing you a problem maybe I just won't. I can solve it myself. I basically solved the moon thing myself," Doc says. "I am trying to be responsible before this turns into a whole thing."
"Doc, you came to me. Did you want anything that wasn't me making fun of you? Because you know, if so, I really feel bad for you. I already feel bad enough for you that you think you actually managed to do anything at all about the moon thing."
Doc throws his hands up. "I am trying to warn you the ocean is evil! It's important! This is important!"
"The deep sea being evil isn't new," Cleo starts, "I was building Atlantis last season--"
"It sent, sent, salmon people to kill me!"
Cleo stops. They look Doc in the eyes. They search for any signs of deception at all. It's a little hard to tell, on account of Doc only having one eye even capable of expressiveness, and his face being the opposite of human, but...
"What?" Cleo says dumbly.
"It was like, like, Beef and Skizz, they were crazy! They were talking about a giant fish and how I shouldn't defy it. And I was like, what is a Big Salmon? I don't know, man, but they're ocean mobsters. And then I started looking. It's not just them. It's not just them Cleo, it's everyone. The ocean, man, it's evil, it's getting everyone. I've, I've made a list. Grian. Have you looked at Grian lately?"
"I think if we were worried about every time Grian got possessed then we wouldn't have any free time," Cleo says hesitantly.
"Right, right, but it was supposed to be Demise. The killing each other, all of the killing each other. I thought, oh, that'll get it out of their systems. But it's not just him Cleo! It's--have you seen Gem? She's all, oh, I will build a boat. Oh, I'll provoke the creatures of the deep. And then. Do you know what I saw all of Team ZITS doing? Fishing!"
"Doc," Cleo says, increasingly concerned for him. He looks... disheveled.
"And not just fishing, oh no. They were standing in the water fishing! And Pearl! Have I mentioned that Pearl is dressing up as a salmon? I mentioned that, yes? The salmon Pearl?"
"You hadn't, unless that was the big fish thing," Cleo says.
"No, that was something different, I think Pearl is maybe a different salmon."
"Sure, okay, more than one salmon, that makes sense," Cleo says dryly.
"And everyone, they are fishing each other around the ocean, yes? Etho is in the ocean! XB is in the ocean! I think I saw Joe crawl out of the ocean earlier, he was all wet and haunted! Surely that is a sign the ocean is evil."
"No, he's just like that," Cleo says. "Also, I did the fishing rod thing too. I think it's just... normal fun."
"They're getting you too. My assessment that you're the sane one. I've said too much."
"I think you need sleep," Cleo says. "Doc, there isn't an ocean-based conspiracy. It's the start of the season. You know we're just like this."
"That's the thing, I can't sleep," Doc says. "I can't. I sleep and I see it. I see it, lurking beneath the waves. It's calling for me Cleo. It's calling. And when it calls, it seems so--kind. But then. But then! I wake up, and I remember the shape of it, and..."
Doc shudders and stops talking. Cleo looks at him a moment longer and then, like comforting a nervous animal, takes his shoulder.
"You should take a nap. It's the start of the season. You're over-stressing yourself. Too much too fast?" they say, as soothingly as possible.
"It's coming for us," Doc says. "It's coming. I don't want to ignore it this time, yes? What's coming for us. We should--we should--"
"Even if it is, Doc, I don't think we can fight the ocean. Come on. Maybe sleeping in my base will help reset your brain."
Doc shudders, but lets Cleo guide him inside. They watch until at last he falls asleep fitfully before shaking their head and sighing.
"A giant fish that was trying to kill him. Honestly. I don't know where he gets these things from. Always a conspiracy with him..."
They decide to go to Ren. Ren knows how to humor Doc. Surely they can get in their ridiculous games again, and Doc will forget all about this. Doc would enjoy the Ministry of Ministries. Maybe he can be an anarchist or something. That would be good for him.
Doc cries out in his sleep. Cleo turns to him.
Then again, they have this strange sinking feeling in their stomach. Doc's... awfully worked up.
But it's Doc.
Surely it's nothing.
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lavender-devotion · 14 days
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The Radio Demon has a WIFE??? And She was a WHAT??? (Alastor x Fem!Reader)
Summary: Mimzy stops by and brings up a little detail that Alastor forgot to mention: he has a wife...oh yeah, and she used to be a nun. How the fuck did that happen??? -Or- I was watching 'Call the Midwife' and got Alastor brainrot ideas while watching the romance between Sister Bernadette/Sheila and Dr. Turner.
Tags: Fem!Reader (for obvious reasons), She/Her pronouns, No Use of (Y/N), everything I know about being a nun is from a TV show (don't kill me pls), Husk is...so fucking tired, also I couldn’t find a midwife house in New Orleans so I made one up (don’t kill me pls x2) TW: None, other than my possible terrible idiocy regarding nun shit and Catholicism, I feel like me being the author should also be a TW in and of itself ngl Word Count: 2.4k Read it on Ao3 <3
"WHAT?"
Husk winced as Angel's voice echoed throughout the lobby, loud and full of indignation.
"There is no fuckin' way tall, dark, an' creepy is married," he insisted, staring down Mimzy as she took another swig from her glass, "you've gotta be fuckin' with us, right Husk?"
Husk pointedly ignored the question, turning his back to the two idiots and their quickly gathering crowd of spectators—the other residents of the hotel. Alastor didn't like people talking about him unless it was with hate, fear, or admiration- (the arrogant fuck) -and he liked people spreading his personal business around even less.
He wasn't stupid enough to get involved in this conversation, even if Mimzy and Angel apparently were.
Mimzy laughed, "oh please, that's not even the best part! Alastor's sweetheart actually used to be a sister!"
"A sister?"
"Yeah-"
'Don't fuckin' say it-'
"-like a nun!"
'Motherfucker.'
That statement had Angel choking on his drink, everyone else letting out various exclamations of disbelief—all of which only made Mimzy's smile widen. She was enjoying the attention.
"Yeah," she continued, "the pretty thing was actually part of one of the few nunneries that were up and running back in our day—although hers also served as a sorta home base for the midwives in New Orleans before it all became a hospital affair."
"So not only did Smiles somehow manage to get 'imself a sweetheart, but he managed to bag a fuckin' NUN?!" Angel asked incredulously, "how the FUCK did that happen?"
Mimzy grinned mischievously, "well-"
"Mimzy," Husk said, caution and warning in his tone. It was one thing to drop a couple facts and then shut up—Alastor was fond of her- (as "fond" as the bastard was capable of) -so she might be able to get off with a warning—but to start telling stories about his life? Spilling all his carefully guarded secrets?
Yeah, that'd get her killed. Or worse.
Even so, Mimzy either didn't know how secretive Alastor was- (doubtful) -or she was just under the delusional belief that he wouldn't hurt her for her slight- (bingo) -because she just waved off Husk's warning.
"Hm...where should I start?"
---------------
What everyone in Hell tended to forget was that the cruel, bloodthirsty, "Radio Demon" they all feared...used to be a man, used to be human just like all the rest.
Quite the human he was, though.
Obviously he did his fair share of terrible things, he didn't end up in Hell for being a saint, but before any of his...transgressions came into the public eye, people truly thought he was. He'd come from a poor home, his father ran off when he was young, and yes he was an odd child—but all of that seemed inconsequential the older he got.
He worked hard in school and worked his way up in the world until he finally became a famous radio host, the crown jewel of the French Quarter. Even so, all of the attention never seemed to go to his head. His mother's son, always his mother's son, he was the picture of a true gentleman—always polite, always chivalrous, always helping others. It certainly didn't hurt that he was handsome too, and his charm was unmatched by any other man in the city.
As such, it was no shock that he attracted all manner of attention from people vying for his affection, but no one seemed to catch his particular eye. That was, until he met her...
---------------
“Now, keep in mind, I don’t know very much about his missus before they got together,” Mimzy admitted, “but, from what I can tell, she'd always been a mystery, so I don’t think it really matters-“
“Obviously it matters!” Angel interrupted, his drink and everything else long forgotten, “for someone to get together with Smiles willingly, they’ve gotta have some of their own skeletons in the closet! C’mon toots, you gotta know something.”
Mimzy circled a finger around her glass, playing coy, “well…maybe I might know a thing or two…”
Husk wanted to bash his head against a wall.
Fine, fine, fine. It was one thing—one really fucking stupid thing—to talk about Alastor, but to talk about his wife? Especially to fucking gossip about her?
Yeah, no, these morons were definitely dead as soon as Alastor found out.
“Well?” Angel pressed, looking downright desperate for more information.
“Well…”
---------------
Alastor's sweetheart had always been an enigma since the day she arrived in New Orleans, every bit of her covered in that modest black and white clothing—all except her face and hands, of course.
By all accounts, she was a sweet girl—kind, attentive, always willing to help—but she was also very…secretive, one might say. It wasn't that the other nuns weren't reserved, because they were, but she was especially so, and her brand of reservation came across as more underhanded than anything else.
She never talked about her hobbies, her family, her life before taking her vows—hell, she never talked about her life before she moved to New Orleans. So it was no surprise that a fair amount of rumors followed her around, no matter how sweet she appeared to be.
Some said that she was a runaway, trying to escape an abusive father; others said that she moved there to get out of a loveless marriage; and a few even claimed that she was on the run from the law. There was never any evidence to support any of those rumors, of course, but people loved to talk.
One might think that Alastor was drawn to her because of all of those whispers, just chasing down another story for his radio show, but it was actually a mix of pure luck and her work as a midwife that brought those two together.
You see, midwives didn't only deliver babies, but they also offered all sorts of medical assistance to anyone who needed it. These services eventually brought her to his mother’s home one day, and it just so happened that Alastor was also visiting his ma at the time.
The two started talking and, between his magnetic charms and her sweet demeanor, it was no surprise that the two got along like a house fire.
From then on, every time she visited his ma to take care of her, he was there too. Then he started showing up at all of the events hosted by Saint Charlene’s, always finding his way to her side. And there even came a time where he started visiting her frequently, always welcomed by her fellow sisters and the other midwives with open arms.
---------------
“Wait a minute,” Angel interrupted, “I thought nuns weren’t allowed ta be in relationships. It goes against the whole point of bein’ a nun, don’t it?”
Mimzy huffed, “I was getting to that part!”
---------------
Obviously nuns weren’t allowed to have relationships, romantic or sexual, and most people of that time didn’t believe that men and women could simply be friends—so the friendliness they both shared fell under quite a bit of scrutiny. Everyone that knew a thing about that sweet girl knew she would never betray her vows, and everyone that knew a thing about Alastor knew that he’d rather die than be anything less than a perfect gentleman. 
But, like I said, people in New Orleans liked to talk.
Neither of them paid any mind to it, though. Alastor was already dealing with the bullshit that came with showbiz and his sweetheart already had a bunch of rumors circulating about her, so what did they care if a few more whispers were added to the pile? But eventually, a painfully long time after the two first met and became friends, there came a day when something that wasn’t quite platonic bloomed between the two of them. 
Obviously the two of them were horrified by this; Alastor, because he would never ask her to forsake her vows for him, and her, because she was worried that she was betrayin’ her God by feeling that way. 
Eventually she talked to the other nuns, though, and got some help figuring out her emotions and what she wanted to do, and Alastor talked things through with his ma—who was, frankly, overjoyed that he’d finally found someone who he fancied.
Let me tell ya, even with all of the others helpin’, it took fuckin’ forever for those two to finally get together. Between their shared emotional constipation, everyone’s expectations of them, the worry that the other didn’t feel the same way, and the fear of crossing each other’s boundaries…yeah, it took over a year after the two of them figured out they liked each other for them to actually say something. 
By the time they finally got their shit together, Alastor’s mom and the other midwives were already planning their wedding. Hell, the nuns were just about ready to rescind her vows themselves, they were so sick of the pining!
Everything worked out in the end, though. The two confessed, his sweetheart did the whole dispensation thing, and the two eventually got married.
----------
“Blah, blah, blah…they got a happily ever after and a white picket fence,” Mimzy finished with a lazy wave of her hand, “so, that's the story."
Angel just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly, “huh, I didn’t know tall, dark, and creepy had it in ‘im.”
Mimzy hummed, “yeah, he might seem all big an’ scary, but underneath all that he’s a total doll!”
Husk shuddered as the prickle of static suddenly made his hair stand on end, signaling Alastor’s entrance into the room—along with Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer himself. His eyes immediately found the small group that had gathered by the bar, and it probably wasn’t hard for him to figure out what exactly drew everyone there.
“Now, now, Mimzy, what have you been telling everyone about me?” Alastor chastised, making his way closer to their group. His tone was teasing, but it had a subtle warning at the end—one that said he wasn’t asking for shits n' giggles. It made Husk want to disappear into the wall, to get out of the way of what would follow if Alastor found out the subject of their conversation. Hopefully Angel and Mimzy would have enough sense to keep their mouths shut, but he doubted it.
“Oh, nothing you need ta worry about!” she said, waving him off playfully, “just a couple old stories from back in the day.” 
“Is that so?”
Mimzy hummed her affirmative, finishing off her drink, and for one blissful moment Husk thought that the subject would drop and everything would be fine. He was wrong.
“Yeah, and I gotta say I’m surprised atcha Smiles,” Angel snarked, “who knew ya had a missus back home keeping ya on a leash.”
The room went dead silent.
The lights suddenly flickered, a dark red glow casting across the room as they did—mangled shadows dancing on the walls. Husk shrank back, trying his best to blend in with the bottles of alcohol that lined the shelf behind him.
Alastor’s voice was pure radio static, barely restrained rage filtering through, “w̶͚̫̰̰̟̌̆̓̚̚h̵̩̤̹͓̗̾̔͗̇̉å̴̱̩̝͚̎́̐̔̏͜†̸̡͔̲̠͔̔̎̆̀̕ ̸̲̠͔̟̗͗͑̾͐͘Ð̷̡̠̥̞͚̔̾̋̋͘ï̶̩̼̻̱̣̓̀̅͆̑Ð̸̣͍̞̬͖͋͑̽͗̚ ̶͈͙̤̺̲̒̒̒̎̀¥̷̭̻̥̘͈̇̓͑́́ð̵̢̲͕͈͇͐͊̓̀̓µ̴͕̬͕̟̟͊͊͂͗͘ ̵̪̲̫̳͍͑̑͒̔͐j̶̨̦̹̪̟̄̽̽̄͘µ̸̧̭͖͇̞̈́̔̀̒͒§̵̺̠͚͓͓̓͂̚͘͝†̷̛̖̤̰̗͓͋̄̇̑ ̸̢̩͙̙̫̊͗̃͘͝§̷̻̣̼̼͙̎͋̂͆͝ą̸̡̛̱̣̻̊̈́̈́̑́¥̶̢̟̼̘̲̃̿̐͑͠?̴͉̞̠̞̦̒͌̋͗̓”
‘Fuck.’
----------
You hummed quietly as you sat on the couch in your and Alastor’s shared home, sketching whatever came to mind in one of the small notebooks he’d bought you—working away the time and trying to ignore his glaring absence. It wasn’t often you were left yearning for your husband’s presence, finding plenty to do during the times he was gone, but today you wanted nothing more than for him to walk through the door. Luckily, you got your wish, although things certainly weren’t how you expected. 
As soon as Alastor walked in, you could tell he was pissed. It was in his posture, his strained smile, the violent crackle of interference in the air. Even his shadow seemed agitated, flitting from one spot to another as if it simply couldn’t sit still. 
 “Al?” You asked carefully, “is everything alright?” 
He turned to you, obviously trying to pass off the illusion of placidity, “everything is fine, my dear, why do you ask?”
“Well you just seem–” the lights around the house flickered, and you could hear a few of them bust in the other rooms, “...tense.” 
He kept up the mask for a moment longer, still trying to fool you, but it dropped soon enough and he let out an irritated sigh.
“...certain people need to learn to keep their insignificant little mouths shut.”
You set aside your notebook and gestured for him to sit next to you, a request he obliged. Almost immediately your hands went to his shoulders and you began massaging them, trying to alleviate some of the tension practically radiating off of him—drawing an almost relieved sigh from his mouth. 
You pressed a barely-there kiss to the back of his neck, “what happened, love?”
“Mimzy stopped by the hotel today and during her stay she decided to fucK̶̝̥̘̪͍̉͋́̈̅Ḭ̴̛̭̪͇̀͋̐̍͂͜ñ̷̡̤̩̖̰̈́͂̑̐͝G̴̞̯̭͈̘͋̒̑̅̚ ̵͇͕͓͕̗͆̃͛͊̂Ġ̶̝̱̪͈̘̽̌͗͝Ö̶̼̲̬̪̟̏̌̄̚͝§̴̺̱̲̫̝̍̈͆̃́§̶̧̞̣̼̮̂͊͋͌͠Ì̷̲̰̹̰͚͌̀̌̇̂þ̴̢̥̰̖̬͒́͌̏̿ ̸̝̺̪̟̈́͊̅̏̆ͅÄ̷͎̘͓̬͇̋̍͑̏͠ß̵̢̫͇̣̻́̊͆͆͝Ö̸̡̤̤̤͙̀̎̿͛͝Ú̸̟̯̺͈̪̇̓̊͐̊†̸̘̺͎͖̣̂̍̽̋̚ ̷̪̺̖̜͇̀͂͒̚͝Ö̴̮̯̗͙̑̆̽̄̚ͅỨ̸̫̯̰̺̼̈́̄̐͝R̸̨̢̧̭͓̒͊̋̇͘ ̵̧̥̗̰͖̅̌̒̿̃þ̶̦̞̫̙͕̈̒̀̿̚Ȩ̵̞̖̲͖̀͗̂̎͝͝R̸̢̪̟̜̮̉̌͒̉̃§̴̢̣͇̠̫̓̀̈͗̽Ö̴̟͕͓̤̀̈́̒͘͜͠ñ̶̛̙͍̼͖͔̎̓̐̋Ä̶̢̬͇͙̟̌͌̃̈͌L̴̨̪͎̟̦̄̇̈̓̿ ̶̨̧̰̼̮̈͒̀̒͝L̸͖̬̙̮̗̂̓̀͘̚Ì̴͙̠͈̺̣͌̓͊̓̓V̷̯̭̞̙͖͆̐̾͗̔Ę̴̪̻̤̀̾͑͆͜͝͝§̷̛͚̤͇̫̘̑͆̾͘.̵̡̥̪̫͇̽̋̑͝͝ §̶͎̣̝̳͓͋̊̀̌͆ð̵̢̼̖̝̭̏̇̕̕͝ ̵̘̜͚̠̫́͊̈́͐̽Ì̷̢̧͖͚͙̆̔̌̓̏ ̸̻̩̪͓̞̀͑͒̇͋†̴̧͉̯̻̳̒̽͋̾̋ð̵̟͙͍̳͈͒̈́̑̍̑ð̸̲̤̞̞̙̄̅͛̓͠k̷̖̪̩̭͇͋̒̀͘͘ ̶̢̛̗̞͍̱̒̅͐͘ï̸̢̢͕̩̰̍̍̽̈́̈́†̵̠̥̖̗̌̌̾̿͠ͅ ̵͙̹̦͎̬͆́̈͗͛µ̸̧̼̲̮̙͊͂̑̓͌þ̶̹̬̫̥̹̓̑̆͘͝ð̷̡̺͖̣̇̅̔͐͑ͅñ̸̼͙̦͕̼̏̐͗͘̕ ̵̢̱̺͖͋̄͌͊̊ͅṁ̸͉̜͙͖͍̓̍͗͝¥̶̨̠̜̮̜̑͑͗̎̌§̵̧̜͉̣̓́͛̇̓ͅḛ̸̠̲̝̤̂̓̎̓͌̈́ĺ̵̛̻̭͚̝̹̽͐̍£̵̠̫̲̹̬̍̊̾̍̕ ̴̧̭̘̞̀̀͋́̄͜†̵̨̰̠̫̖̎̋̃̂͘ð̴̨͍̭̤̙̄̑̎͝͠ ̴̯̟̟̖̜͒͂͌͒̉§̶̪̜̙͎͎́̒̍̾͝h̷̝̻̞̖̄̅̔̆̕͜µ̵̨̨̛̣̬͓̍̑͋́†̶̨̢̰̤͙̌̀̈̈́͆ ̴͔̟̻̫̐͊̓͑̉͜ĥ̴̢̯͔̯̈́̇̑͋͜ê̵̡̳̠͖̺͋͒͐̍̇r̸̝̘͍̙̂͑́̃͊ͅ w̷̸̼̠͓̟͍̣͓̪͚͊̈͗̉̄̊̍̍̇̀͜h̵̥͓͕̲͉̋̓͊́̈́ð̴̨̡͚̲̦̄̃̄̓͋r̸̖̲̮̮͐͌͑́̃ͅę̴͖͇͙̥̂̐͛͌͒̽ ṃ̷̨̱͈̭̀̃͂́͘ð̵̧̛͎̗̟̒̇̈̊ͅµ̴̨̛̖͈̱͈̑̋́̕†̵͚̝̜̟͍̔̈̀̈́̆h̵͚̞͔̗̖̀͒̀͛͘.̴̳̙̞̗̬͒́͆̂͂”
The sudden surge of static and shadow didn’t phase you, even as Alastor struggled to not shift into his demonic form—sharp cracks of green light appearing on the walls.
When you’d first found out about his…extracurricular activities, you had been afraid and confused, but now it was nothing more than background noise. He was still the man you fell in love with, still your husband, even if he occasionally killed and ate the degenerates of the world and anyone that pissed him off.
All things considered, you were just glad that you’d ended up in Hell with him, even if the things you'd had to do to ensure that were...distasteful. 
You wrapped your arms around him, nestling your head into the crook of his neck. A luxury that no one else enjoyed but you. 
“That does sound stressful. Is everything handled now, at least?” 
“Yes,” he drawled, leaning back further into you, “unfortunately I was unable to get rid of the other l̷̡͈̼̘̩̾͌̉͝͠ï̸̗̭̝̥̺̈́̓̐̿̚†̴̢̡͕͖̹͌͌̋̈́͗†̸̢̣͖͚͔̓̌̉̾̐l̶̡̪͙͕͗͐̍́̕͜ę̴̡̦͕̜̂͋̏̅͘͝ ̵̰̥̩̺̪̀̋̉͑̍§̸̖̥̦̗͓̏̋̉̈́̃h̶͓͙̯͔͇̎̏̾̕̚ï̴̧̡̱̗̻̈́͗͆̃̀†̴̣̖̯̭͉̂͐͒̍̀§̵̧̡̹̼̹͒̿̍̋͠, as Charlie has taken a liking to them, but I trust that I got my point across.” 
“Good.”
You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.
“Now…when do I get to meet these ‘little shits’ that get on your nerves so often?” you teased, drawing an amused chuckle from him. 
“Don’t even start, darling.”
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shockercoco · 9 days
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Only Pleasure Remains
Feyd Rautha x reader
Warnings - 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, penetration, dirty talk, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, basically enemies to lovers
Word count - 3608
a/n - this was supposed to be posted over a week ago, but I kept procrastinating on finishing it. This is also my longest imagine so far lol. Disclaimer: I haven't read the books yet I've only seen the movies, but I just ordered the first one. I hope you enjoy :)
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You’re currently pacing back and forth in one of the vip suites, waiting for the fight to start. It’s the fight that will determine whether or not you’ll have to marry the most deranged person you’ve ever laid eyes on.
Feyd Rautha is known for being unhinged in and out of the arena. It could be because of his past that he lacks compassion, or he just has no regard for anyone other than himself. He’ll kill anyone in an instant without blinking an eye, but sometimes he’ll take his time to enjoy the moment.
You’ve never talked to Feyd and have only looked at him from a distance each time you visited the planet for your father to discuss business matters. When he would join the meetings you would avoid eye contact, but he would always watch you. When you guys would pass each other in the corridors you would keep your head down and walk faster, but you knew he was looking at you. You never knew if he was looking at you like a piece of meat or an actual human being. What really made you sick is that, despite his horrific personality, you still found him attractive.
Recently your father and Baron Harkonnen had a huge argument and couldn’t come to an agreement, and of course the only way to resolve the issue is with a battle with you as collateral. It wasn't completely out of the blue since  your father was somewhat close to the Baron, but it was a terrible proposition. Baron Harkonnen wants to make sure his bloodline is secure before he dies and Feyd takes control, but of all the women in the universe he had to pick you.
So now here you are a week later, along with the other citizens inside the arena, waiting to see the outcome of the fight. You already know what it will be though, everyone knows it, but you’re hoping that just this once the outcome will be different.
Eventually, you hear Feyd’s name being announced to the crowd followed by him strutting into the arena with no emotion on his face. You can’t bring yourself to watch the fight so you turn your back as soon as it starts, not even bothering to take a seat. The arena is dead silent once the fight starts, allowing you to hear the clashing of swords and the shouts coming from each man. 
It’s not long before Feyd’s announced as the winner, as usual, and the crowd erupts in cheers. You turn back around and catch sight of the dead bodies splayed around Feyd who's basking in the praise from the sea of people in the stands. Turning your head to your left you lock eyes with your father who gives you an apologetic smile, but you just shake your head not knowing what to say to him. You take one last look into the arena and at Feyd’s face, before leaving.
The guards already knew of the arrangement and wouldn’t let you stray too far from the grounds of the house. It didn’t take long for you to find out about the several lady’s maids you now had – more than back home – because they basically circled around you until you finally told them that you didn’t need them at the moment. One remained close behind you though.
When you were shown to your room, you were met with one that was far from small. You had a king size bed, a spacious bathroom with a walk-in shower, and a balcony that allowed you to look out into the distance at the skyline. You notice your knick knacks and personal items were scattered around the room on tables and shelves, and your clothes had already been unpacked and inside the closet.
They really don’t waste time here.
As beautiful as the room was, it couldn’t replace the one you had back home – the life you had back home.
Later that night after you bathed, you were about to call it a day and just crawl under the covers, but you decided against it. Luckily there was no one standing outside of your room or lurking in the hallway, but there was still a chance of you getting caught by one of the guards or by one of the Baron’s henchmen.
Even though you’ve been here many times, you have only gone to the places that were necessary: the throne room, restrooms, dining hall, and the room for meetings. As you walked you noticed that many of the rooms were either locked or empty. You did manage to find a room full of paintings and another resembling an armory that seemed to be for display only. 
Some of the items were tarnished, some looked extremely fragile, and some still had the blood on it from the time it was used. When you heard a pair of paced footsteps, you decided to make your way to the other side of the house to continue your exploration and to avoid being seen.
The other side gave you a completely different vibe, mainly because the corridors were barely lit. The main source of light came from the fireworks exploding outside, an applaud for Feyd. You started to wish you had brought a candle or anything that could grant you more light since the ceiling lights weren’t helping much. The farther you walked, you started to feel more and more uneasy. You felt like someone was watching you, which is ironic because this wasn’t the best lighting for seeing.
Feeling it was time to end the exploration, you turn around and start to head back but stop when you hear something. Or, at least you thought you heard something. It was dead silent except for the faint sounds of explosions. You were about to keep walking when you felt someone wrap their arm around and press a blade to your neck. The person’s scent is familiar though, reminding you of what you would smell every time you walked past Feyd.
Was he just casually hiding in the shadows?
“What are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?” you hear Feyd ask from behind you in his usual raspy voice, the rasp that you love but will never admit outloud.
You're relieved that it’s not a random person, but still a little fearful given the fact he could end your life at any second. The thought practically paralyzes you.
“I was just about to head back to my room,” your response is short.
“That doesn’t answer what I asked. No one’s allowed this way,” Feyd says as he circles around to stand in front of you with the edge of his blade still pressed to your neck. “Wait a minute, I’ve seen you around. Aren’t you that lord’s daughter, the one I’m so supposed to be marrying?”
You were about to just give him a simple nod, but then remember the blade pressed against your throat. “Yes.”
He waits a moment as he looks at you before moving his hand away and leaving it to hang by his side along with the blade. Despite being surrounded by darkness, his blade still manages to shine. You automatically take a step back.
“I could’ve killed you, why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t care too much.
“To be fair you had a blade pressed to my neck,” you answer as Feyd’s dark eyes stare into yours. He doesn’t reply right away as he looks you up and down. His stare makes you feel exposed considering you’re only wearing a thin nightgown covered by a robe. Unconsciously, you begin to play with your fingers behind your back. Feyd notices your fidgeting though.
“Are you scared of me?” he suddenly asks, and you’re not sure how to reply. Everyone is scared of him, but is he genuinely asking or is he trying to get a kick out of this?
“No,” you choose to say, and he smirks.
He starts to slowly walk around you as he continues speaking. “No? Do I just make you nervous then? It has to be something because you’ve always avoided eye contact with me, and I know how you would distance yourself from me on purpose. In fact, this is the first conversation we’ve had. Come on now, we’re going to be married soon, we should be able to talk to each other,” he smirks.
Well, what the hell am I supposed to say to that?
“Isn’t that how you want people around you to feel? Everyone has their weakness, what’s yours?” you question as he continues to circle you.
He doesn’t hesitate to say, “I don’t have one.”
“Everyone has one,” you pause as you think then say, “what about the women you always have around? Everyone knows you’re a playboy, that sounds like a weakness to me.”
He stops in front of you to look down at you and into your eyes with the smirk still on his face. “That sounds like jealousy to me.” 
“It’s simply an observation,” you shrug. 
“You know, I usually don’t let the women I sleep with talk to me like this,” he says with a tilt of the head.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that for you I guess I will make an exception, given the fact you’re my bride and all,” he says before he circles behind you again to press his body up against yours. He leans into your ear to whisper, “but just this time.”
You wish you could stop the goosebumps from appearing on your skin or the shiver that works its way through your body. You thought Feyd wouldn’t notice, but he must’ve because he leans back with a light chuckle. Right now all you want to do is slap him across the face for his arrogance and yourself for the way your body reacted to his words. 
“I won’t sleep with you just yet, my darling, but it will happen soon because it’s obvious you can’t wait,” Feyd says as he slowly backs away from you. You turn around wanting to say something else, but before you get the chance he says, “run along now, it’s getting late.”
He keeps that smug look on his face as you give him one last look before leaving. Your mind tells you to hate him, but your body says otherwise as a warm feeling travels through your core as you walk back to your room.
You also hate how every night after part of you expects Feyd to walk through your bedroom door. He didn’t come the night after your encounter in his corridor. He didn’t come the next night either or the night after that. You knew it was foolish waiting for a man that has his own sex slaves – a man that you’re supposed to detest.
It isn’t until the fourth day that Feyd arrives at your door; little did you know Feyd was having his own internal conflict. He hadn’t used any of his slaves since that night he caught you in his corridor, not feeling the need for them. He also was not a fan of his feelings toward you.
You were standing out on your balcony enjoying the night breeze when you heard a knock on your door. You knew it could only be one of your lady’s maids at this time, so you didn’t hesitate to tell the person outside the door to come in as you took a couple steps back into your room. In walked a lady’s maid that you have grown quite fond of over the past couple of days.
“There’s a visitor here for you, would you like me to send them in,” she asks.
You wanted to say no given the current time, but you nodded anyway and watched as she walked back out. Not even a few seconds later, Feyd replaces her spot covered in a black robe, a stark contrast to his pale skin, and closes the bedroom door behind him.
Your body stiffens, nearly stuck to the ground, as you quickly try to figure out your emotions in your head. Feyd takes his time walking towards you as he looks around your room, and this gives you enough time to pull yourself together. You step back out onto the balcony as he gets closer and closer, and he follows you out there.
“Nice view don’t you think?” he asks as he stands next to you, looking out into the distance.
“Did you really come here to ask me about the view?” you look up at him.
“Straight to the point, I like it,” he smirks.
“Straight to what point?” you act dumb and put some space in between the two of you.
“Why do you think I’m here?” he tilts his head down at you.
“Apparently to talk about the view,” you reply in a joking manner and look out into the distance to avoid his gaze. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his jaw tighten.
“You’re making this hard.”
“What?” you ask, still not looking at him. You want him to hear him say outloud what he wants.
Except he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he quickly closes the distance between the two of you as he places his lips on yours and his hands on your cheeks. The force he uses startles you and pushes you back a couple steps, but you recover and grab onto his wrists as you begin kissing him back.
You wonder for a second if you’re giving in too easily, but the feeling of Feyd’s grip on you tosses the idea out of your mind.
Feyd hated how needy and desperate he felt as his lips attacked  yours. The kiss was rough, but Feyd was trying to hold himself back from going too far. Normally he wouldn’t care about how rough or gentle he was with a woman because his slaves never complained — not like they had a choice — and some of them even came to him first to satisfy their own needs. This time though, it was him coming to you.
Feyd deepens the kiss, keeping his hold on your face firm, as he starts to push you back into your bedroom. Once your legs hit the bed, he unties the knot on your robe before slowly peeling it off your shoulders leaving you nothing but your nightgown and undergarments. He breaks the kiss to push you back, and you scoot your body into the center of the bed.
 The way he focuses on you as he stands at the bottom of the bed makes you feel like one of Feyd’s opponents in the arena. The thought sends warmth between your legs.
He takes off his own robe leaving him in only his underwear before he starts to crawl on the bed, trailing a hand up one of your ankles up to your thigh, until he’s hovering above you. Your breathing is shallow and your heart races in anticipation for what’s to come. The only other person you've had sex with was one of your close friends back on your home planet, and you enjoyed it, but that friend wasn’t Feyd. He wasn’t a murderous maniac known for his sexual relations like Feyd was. Another wave of electricity passes through your body.
Feyd dips his head down and starts placing kisses on your neck from your ear to your collarbone,  making a low whine escape your lips. All the while, the hand gripping your thigh inches farther north until it reaches your panties and begins to touch you through them. It doesn’t take too long for a wet spot to appear on the fabric, and it’s obvious that Feyd notices too, seeing as how you can feel a smirk form on his lips. You squeeze your legs together wanting more from him, but Feyd pushes your legs back open and bites the skin on your neck.
You draw in a breath as he whispers into your ear, “be patient.” His voice may be light, but you can hear the firmness behind it.
He moves his face away from your neck and takes his time as he moves his body lower and lower until his face is between your thighs. He pulls your underwear down your legs before tossing them to the side, and helps you dispose of your nightgown revealing your bare body to him. You start to wish that your bedroom lights were off as you look down to see Feyd’s dark eyes taking all of you in.
A smile spreads across his face once he notices you shying up. “There’s no hiding from me now.”
He says nothing else and dives right into you. His movements are rough yet gentle as he eats you out, resembling hunger. The way he flicks his tongue over you like a snake has your back arching while you let out a consistent string of moans. You tightly grab hold of the blanket beneath you with both hands as you move your hips into his mouth. You can’t help but roll your eyes from the speed of his tongue.
Feyd places one hand onto your stomach before moving it up to one of your breasts to grab hold of, while his other hand joins his lips between your thighs. He wastes no time slipping a finger into you as he moves his mouth up to suck harshly on your clit.
“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. One of your hands lets go of the blanket to join Feyd’s on your breast.
The finger inside of you pumps into you at a measured pace before gradually getting faster. He decides to add another finger without letting up on his speed. You can tell that him pleasuring you gives him satisfaction, noticing the fact that he’s in his own world. Naturally, your body starts to move away from his mouth and your legs start to close as the pleasure becomes more intense.
Feyd releases his hold on your clit and lifts up his head to make eye contact with you. “I need you to stay still,” he tells you in more of a warning tone and pulls you back to his mouth before continuing, not waiting for you to answer.
Once you feel your orgasm nearing your moans get louder as they turn into whines. Feyd notices the way you become shaky and how you start writing around more so he moves his mouth away and pulls his fingers out of you. Your mouth falls open as you look down at him, the warmth previously building up in your stomach slowly starting to fade away. You’re about to say something when he looks into your eyes and shushes you.
He then moves his hand on your breast and places it on your stomach, gently adding pressure. You’re confused and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. 
Then suddenly you feel his fingers start to move inside you again, except this time at a different pace. He begins to quickly pump his fingers in and out of you, causing you to throw your head back as your back lifts off the bed. You feel yourself getting close to tumbling over the edge again, although this time it feels different. It’s unlike all the other times you have brought yourself to an orgasm.
Right as your orgasm hits you, you feel a gush of liquid squirt out of you. You cum with a loud cry, forgetting the fact that the doors to your balcony are still wide open. When the thought pops into your mind you don’t even care about anyone being able to hear you.
Feyd stops when you move your hands down to try and push him away. He looks down at his chest to see the mess you created and lets out a low laugh. As your body starts to relax, you look down to see Feyd standing at the bottom of the bed pulling down his underwear to reveal his hard length to you.
“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he tells you as he positions himself between your legs.
He rubs the tip of his length up and down your slit spreading your arousal around. You let out a whine at his teasing and he says, “ready for another one, are we?”
He doesn’t stop right away, but when he finally glides into your soaked opening it pulls a moan out of both of you. He places his arms on either side of your head and leans down to connect his lips to yours. The kiss is rough and sloppy, and you tightly wrap your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you. You don’t even care if you seem desperate anymore.
You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but Feyd doesn’t care as he ruthlessly pounds into you. Once he finds the spot inside of you that makes you gasp, he makes a mental note of it as he repeatedly thrusts into it.
It doesn’t take long for your next orgasm to build up, releasing it with a silent cry as you unintentionally dig your fingers into Feyd’s back causing him to groan in your ear in pleasure. He keeps his thrusts consistent as you begin to leak around his cock and onto the blanket beneath you. There’s no doubt you’ll have to change the bedding later. 
With another smirk he firmly grips your jaw and says, “I hope you can take a few more, my darling.”
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renthony · 11 months
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Tobacco users aren't dirty or stupid, and some of y'all are deeply poisoned by DARE-style propaganda.
Even from people who are supposedly "supportive" of addicts and users, I see so much hateful vitriol toward smokers, as if nicotine addiction is somehow The Worst Kind, and it's okay to target them as Terrible Monsters, even from people who should know better.
"But I have TRAUMA--" Trauma doesn't give you the right to be cruel to every single smoker in the world. It does not give you the right to assume the worst of every single smoker you meet.
"But they pollute my air--" Designated smoking spots in public areas have been a thing for decades now, and I have never met a single smoker who wasn't perfectly willing to move to another location to smoke, as long as they are asked respectfully and not treated like criminals or monsters just for smoking. If you approach a smoker and treat them like a criminal and act like they're intentionally trying to poison you, they have every right to get annoyed at you. And if an individual smoker is a dick about it? That's still the individual, not smokers as a whole.
"But it sets off my asthma--" This is what is known as a "competing access need." Smokers deserve space to smoke, because drug withdrawal is severe and is a legitimate medical issue. Non-smokers and those with respiratory issues deserve smoke-free air. Two things can be true at once, and the answer is not, "so we dehumanize smokers!" Also, y'all may be shocked to learn this, but there are asthmatic smokers. I know several. Using asthmatics as a gotcha against smokers is not productive or kind to either group.
"But tobacco companies--" Are not the individual smokers, and are not responsible for tobacco companies' actions. Blaming Joe Schmoe Smoker for the actions of Big Tobacco is the exact same as blaming someone for climate change because they bought a pack of Walmart-brand hamburgers. Not only is it not effective, it doesn't target the core issue, and it's a douchebag thing to do.
"But it's bad for you--" Suicide and self-harm are worse, and cigarettes are the only thing keeping some people alive. Blame the system, not the individual.
"But vaping is obnoxious and bad for kids--" Vaping originated as a way to help people stop smoking, and it is not the fault of individuals that vaping became another predatory industry. Removing access to vapes, which are commonly still used as a tool for addicts to help quit, is not the fucking answer.
Stop being cruel to smokers and pretending you're progressive for it. Unlearn the DARE propaganda, kill the cop in your head, and recognize that someone's humanity is not dependent on their drug habits.
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inbarfink · 7 months
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Okay, so here’s the thing….
We are still at a very early point in the narrative of ‘Fionna and Cake’ and therefore at a very early point in Simon’s character arc. It’s pretty clear that “I need to become Ice King again” is not the end point by any meaning of the word. But I am wondering where we’re going to go with this, cause… The series has yet to really tackle how miserable Ice King himself was a lot of the time. And how often he hurt people. 
Like, yes, I was an advent advocates for 'trying to bring back Simon Petrikov was a really really Bad Idea on Betty's part, it was more healthy to focus on making sure Ice King was as happy and healthy and harmless as he could be', but I am also fully aware that he started the show being both extremely lonely and extremely sad and also a serial kidnapper who was very much a danger to those around him. And as much progress as he made during the show, getting Ice King to that point was a very serious struggle with a lot of backslidings and problems.
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'Friends Forever' is, for example, an episode that stuck with me for a long time as a really heart-wrenching demonstration how even in that late stage, when he has buddies and people trying to seriously take care of him - Ice King was still very capable of seriously sabotaging his own relationships and hurting others and himself.
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And it does make sense narratively that, like, characters like Astrid and Fionna and Cake, all of whom lack the full context of what Ice King's life was like (Fionna and Cake really just saw Simon at his worst and only got snippets of clips of Ice King and since Astrid was born after Humans came to Ooo that means she was also born after the events of ‘Come Along With Me’) all see Simon as a downgrade. Because they really don’t understand how bad Ice King was beforehand. 
And thus is does make sense that with Simon's current mental state, and how he is surrounded lately with these kinda people who never really knew Ice King and don’t really understand how terrible and miserable he could be, and now hearing that his ‘sanity’ just took away magic and whimsy from some else’s whole universe, and how it feels like the actual gods of the multiverse are telling him that he should be Ice King, that he's supposed to be Ice King....
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It makes sense that he might start kinda... romanticizing that time in his life again. 
You know, the big thing about the outlook that Betty should’ve accepted Ice King as who he is rather than basically destroy herself to bring Simon back wasn't about whatever Ice King or Simon Petrikov were better or 'cooler' than the other. It was about, like, embracing change. Not obsessing about a past where things were ‘Better’ but seeing what is the best you can do with things as they are. Moving forwards.
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And we all know how Simon feels about moving forwards right now…
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And obviously that's a pretty bad mindset, even if it's understandable how he got there...
And honestly, if we do explicitly acknowledge that, hey! Ice King’s life was often just as much of a depressive spiral as Simon's is right now! There might be an element of… resignation in Simon’s decision. 
Because Simon's downward spiral since getting cured is not a demonstration that he was better off under the Ice Crown's curse.... But, to him, more a demonstration that he doesn't need the Crown to screw up his own life anymore.
‘Cause as both as Ice King and as good ol’ ‘sane’ Simon Petrikov he is just as capable of being lonely and depressed.
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And just as capable of losing his own identity.
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And just as capable of pushing his loved ones away and ruining his own life.
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And just as capable of becoming a weirdo obsessive.
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And just as capable of making little girls cry.
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He even started kidnapping people again! That’s the Ice King Classic!
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So on some level, maybe Simon is resigned to the fact he’s always going to be SOME sort of screwed up lonely sadman who hurts others. And if that is his fate, he might as well be the screwed up lonely sadman who is mostly oblivious to how sad he really is and can shoot ice from his fingertips. And his arc is going to be about realizing that, whether he is Ice King or Simon Petrikov, healing and change ARE always possible for him.
But we’re gonna have to see where it goes…
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jelliedink · 4 months
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Ancient Vampire Partner as a Service Top Headcanons
Warnings: Pure smut. Mentions of death, blood, violence. No gender specified, but reader do get periods. Implication of abusive relationship. Author's note: I wrote an extensive introduction to this post, but then I realised that was mostly me rambling. So I decided to get straight (and kinda gay) to the point. Shall we? Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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Here's my take on how I think the sexual dynamic between a human and their ancient vampire lover would go:
Your ancient vampire partner knew they had to be gentle and careful with you. Much like us when carrying a newborn puppy, they were aware of how easily your bones could break if they got too excited. Since sex for them was now more of an echo from their human days and not a survival need, they were ok with going without sex for long periods of time, perhaps waiting until you were ready to be turned. For now, they thought it was safer to wait.
You, on the other hand, were very much not ok with this. You were human, your body evolved to make happy chemicals from sex. As if that wasn't enough, the main survival strategy of your partner's species was looking hot as fuck to lure humans, getting their thoughts so clouded by lust that they'd ignore the stone cold touch, the sharp fingernails, the bluish hue of their skin and the sharpness of their teeth. Your whole body went crazy just by looking at them.
They knew you couldn't help it. So, whenever you were needy and in the mood, they didn't mind putting you on their lap, back against their chest, and touch you until you've had enough. They loved being able to make you feel good, whispering on your ear while playing with your body: "What do you want to try today?" "Do you want me to get one of our toys?" "Does it feel good like this?" "Is this intensity enough?"
In the days you desperately needed to feel them inside of you, they ignored their own desire while watching you ride them mesmerised, gently guiding your hips up and down while kissing and caressing whatever part of your beautiful, soft and warm body they could reach. God, how pretty you looked with your eyes out of focus, using their body to get off and scratch that itch.
And when you were too tired they gladly took the lead, paying attention to your every reaction, focusing on how to serve you better: "Hold my shoulders tight so I can reach deeper without hurting you, ok?" "Slow and steady, precious, or you'll be tired before we can have the amount of fun you deserve." "Here, it will feel even better if you touch yourself too."
But they were far from being selfless. The moment you got your period they morphed into a feral and self-serving beast, unable to control themselves any more than a hungry lion would if near a trapped deer. This was one of the very few times they could feed off of you and they were not letting all this food go to waste.
You'd get properly cushioned in a comfortable position, a heating pad on your lower belly, your legs on their shoulders and they would lick you clean. Prepare to be there for a while, no amount of begging would make them let you get up until they're finished. Of course you always tried to. Every time this happened, they'd first try to convince you with love and praises, but their tone got increasingly more authoritative and mean until you couldn't recognise your lover anymore. "My baby, you taste so good." "How can you be so good to me, my little angel?" "Can't you hold on just a bit more? Please? For me?" "Oh, you're being tortured with too many orgasms? You poor thing, that sounds so terrible." "Pretty, you're not getting up. Don't think that you have a choice just because I'm trying to be nice." "Maybe if I show you how painful I can make it you'll realise how good you're having it stop being such a whiny ungrateful brat. You want this, my baby? You want me to hurt you? So don't make me hurt you."
In the end they'd kiss your whole weak body and your puffed teary face while begging for your forgiveness. They'd say they don't deserve you, they are a monster, they just don't know how to control themselves when you smell like this and they were so hungry. You'd be pampered: a hot bath, body massage, your favourite food, that thing you've been eyeing for so long but was way too out of your budget.
They'd do just about anything you ask for. Anything but promise not to do it again.
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