#that elevator made me cry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvsupa · 3 days

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#HOW TO TAME YOUR BRAT: 101?!

featuring: gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

summary: jjk men brat taming you after pushing them to their limits, mdni

w.c: 3.3k

+ill fix any errors tmr 🙂‍↕️

☆SATORU GOJO

— cw: gojo x fem reader, office au, missionary, squirting, degrading, etc.

running your own business has its perks and its downfalls, but right now? this is the worst. your business partner, gojo satoru, drives you absolutely insane. he shows up late to every meeting—hell, he didn’t even bother to show up at all this week!

you’re now standing next to him in the elevator, arms crossed tightly under your chest, trying to ignore the headache his obnoxious presence gives you. gojo leans casually against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets, rambling on about his latest wild night, his words muffled by the cherry favoured lollipop lazily hanging from his glossy lips, leaving a red stain that only adds to your irritation.

“c’monnn, you’re seriously mad at me?” he whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, your black heels tapping impatiently against the elevator floor as it crawls toward your floor.

“seriously? we lost that business deal because you can’t stop chasing after new girls every night.” you grit your teeth, glaring at him as he swirls the candy around before popping it out with a little pop!

“what, are you jealous that i’m getting laid and you’re not?” he smirks, clearly reveling in the thought.

“fuck you, gojo.”

your last words before you truly regret putting yourself in this predicament. you reaalllyy struck a nerve as he slammed you on your back on top of his desk- crowded with important documents that he did not care about. the slutty position he had you in was filthy, your knees pressed up to your chest. your black pencil skirt now bunched to your waist as your panties were thrown somewhere onto the desk, showing how impatient he was. gojo jackhammers his thick cock into your sopping cunt as the decorations on the desk began to slip off the desk— some even breaking due to the impact, but he did not care. lewd squelches ring in your ears as you’re moaning uncontrollably. his pace is beyond brutal your breasts jiggle by each thrust.

“are you gonna be a good girl and watch that dirty mouth?” he says through panting breaths as one of his hands move to your clit, rudely pinching your sensitive nub between his fingers as you sob loudly. your eyes flutter open as you make eye contact with him, trying your hardest to speak as he darkly chuckles.

“awh, poor baby can’t speak— that’s okay, she’s doing allll the talking, right?” he says, referring to your pussy as loud sloshes of your cunt cry louder with each thrust.

“f-fuck you- hahh,” you manage to speak out as his eyes darken. his thrusts come to a stop as he moves his hand from your cunt to grab something on the desk. your panties. he scrunches your damp panties into his hand as he shoves it into your mouth- nearly choking on the fabric.

“thaats much better,” he says as he picks up his rhythm once again. but this time- this time you fucked up. his hips snapping at an animalistic pace as your body aches at being folded in half. he’s showing you no mercy. your moans muffled by the cotton fabric in your mouth as tears races down the sides of your cheeks. you cunt clenching around his length as he lets out a low groan.

gojo bites his lower lip hard as he feels his cock twitching- his balls tightening as your pussy sucks the soul out of him. “gahh- f-fuck, sloppy fuckin’ pussy.” he moans as his hips stutter. your eyes crossed as he brings his hand to your cunt once again, as he draws rough circles on your nub. he can tell you’re close just by the way you’re-

oh.

your body feels limp as you unexpectedly come undone. you see white splotches in your vision as your ears slightly ring. gojo looks down at your fucked expression as he admires the mess you’ve made. your juices everywhere, all over his suit, his desk- fuck you’ve soaked the business contacts that you two needed.

“w-what, mmf,” you moan when you feel gojo slip out of your gaping cunt- thick globs of cum seeping out your hole, creating a puddle of your mess on his desk.

“mmm, you squirted- that was fuckin’ hoottt,” he says while admiring how much cum your pussy can take before it spills out. he slaps his cock onto your swollen cunt as you whine at the sensitivity. your legs aching at having them up against your chest- but just before you can rest them down, gojo pulls something out of his pocket. another lollipop. seriously.

he unravels the new flavour, strawberry lemonade, as he brings it into his mouth. humming in content at the sweet flavour. he looks down at your cunt filled with your mixed juices. gojo brings the fresh candy out of his mouth as he smirks, bringing the candied stick to your cunt, smothering the sticky candy in your sweet cum. you bite your lip as you watch the entire scene unfold as you gasp loudly once he plunged the pink lollipop into your pussy, twirling the stick as he slowly thrusts the candy in your hole. collecting your gooey cum along the lollipop as he pulls it out with a slight pop! before sticking it back into his mouth- this time moaning at your honeyed essence.

☆SUGURU GETO

— cw: fwb!geto x fem reader, blow job, riding, etc.

sugu: come outside, baby.

you: nah.

you toss your phone onto your bed after sending the text. you shouldn’t feel this way—after all, you’re not even together! just before his message, you saw geto posing with a girl who clearly had her eyes on him. it infuriated you, but you both had agreed on being friends with benefits.

your phone chimes again, geto clearly unhappy with your response.

sugu: ???

rolling your eyes, you glance out your bedroom window and spot his matte black sports car parked in front of your apartment complex. your heart sinks a little when you realize no one is in the car. that means—

shit.

you forgot you gave him your spare key. you rush to the living room to lock the extra locks on the door, but you stop dead in your tracks. there’s geto, standing in the middle of your living room. damn, he looks good—his messy long hair falls over his back as he digs his hands into his black sweats, swaying slightly as he waits for an explanation.

“gimme a kiss, baby,” he rasps. you cross your arms, your silk black pajama dress accentuating your figure, and he bites his lip, eyes roaming over you. you don’t move closer, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“what’s got you upset now, hmm?” he steps toward you, closing the gap, shamelessly staring.

“i don’t know, maybe you should ask your other girl for a kiss,” you reply coldly, looking away. he laughs genuinely at your response.

“heh, don’t worry, i only want you,” he reassures, reaching out to caress your face. but you stubbornly swat his hand away, surprising him.

“go call her when you want your dick sucked, pussy,” you mutter under your breath, loud enough for him to hear as you turn your back and storm toward your room, anger simmering beneath the surface.

geto’s eyes widen, his jaw tightening as your words hit him like a slap to the face. the silence behind you feels charged, the tension growing.

you barely make it halfway into your room before your mouth runs ahead of your mind. “if your dick was even big enough to suck,” you mutter quietly to yourself. but he heard.

that’s it. you can feel the heat of his stare burning into your back, the shift in his energy unmistakable. before you can take another step, his voice cuts through the air, low and deadly. “what did you just say?”

your loud mouth is what ended you up here, knees digging into the carpet- almost burning- of your living room in between getos thighs. your jaw aching as you attempt to take in all of his inches- hell you’re barely half way! and fuck, he was so big and so girthy it hurt. geto fucks your face hard as both of his hands grip the sides of your hair- bobbing your head roughly as you loudly gag on his cock. his tip hitting the back of your throat as his hips snap up. drool slips past your mouth as your chin is covered in saliva and cum as you’re in tears- mascara running down your face, your eyes roll to the back of your head as your cunt clenches around nothing.

“say that shit again baby- my dicks what?” he taunts as he pulls your head away from his cock, causing you to choke up a cough as you’re trying your hardest to breathe properly. geto grows impatient at your silence as he grabs the base of his cock as he slaps your cheeks to regain your consciousness.

“don’t tell me you’ve given upp,“ he trails as he drags his leaky tip across your swollen lips- painting your lips as a shiny gloss.

“lil’ dick,” you spat out, giving him a weak smile as geto stares into your eyes. you’ve got the fuckin’ nerve, he thinks.

geto grabs the back of your head, shoving his shaft back into your mouth- this time he pushes your head to the base, your eyes widening as you’re nearly choking on his cock. your nose brushes along his neatly trimmed pubic hair as you swear you felt him in your chest. you’re hallowing your cheeks as the room fills with pornographic squelches from your mouth as you can’t believe you’re making these sounds.

you slowly snake your hand under your dress, parting your folds as you rub your clit as you moan around his cock. geto groans loudly at the vibration. he notices you touching your pussy as he roughly pulls you away, a string of saliva connected from his tip to your swollen lips as you choke up a cough. geto suddenly lifts you off the ground as he pulls you into his lap, staring up at your fucked out expression.

“since you wanna be in charge, ride me.” he demands as he aligns his tip to your drooling hole. but before you could go at your own pace, geto tuts in annoyance and slams your hips down onto his- earning a loud sob from you. he’s practically moulding himself in your gummy walls each time you two fuck. your cunt squeezes his shaft tightly as he moans, throwing his head back on the couch as you slowly pace yourself on his dick.

“‘so b-big sugu’— i f-feel you-“ you could barely finish your sentence without whimpering as one of your hands glide against your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock ramming himself in you as your breasts bounce in his face. fuck, he’s so inlove with you.

“yeaa I bet you feel me rightttt here, pretty”

☆TOJI FUSHIGURO

— cw: yakuza boss!toji x bimbo!reader, voyeurism, tojis being very patient but he’s mean.

“toj’, i wanna leave,” you whine, tugging at his long-sleeve button-up, the top three buttons casually undone. he’s trying to focus on the meeting, surrounded by men who practically tremble at his presence. you huff in annoyance, crossing your arms and eyeing the other gang members, wishing he hadn’t dragged you into this boring affair that has nothing to do with you.

he promised it would only take thirty minutes of your life, and then he’d take you on a shopping spree for your favorite purse. your acrylic nails tap impatiently on your phone as you check the mall hours—oh my goodness, it’s closed. your eyes widen, rage bubbling up inside you.

“toji, you lied! the mall’s closed and i’m stuck in this boring-ass meeting!” you whisper loudly, glancing at the other gang members as they discuss business that feels miles away from your world. not even a glance from him; his eyes remain glued to the conversation. muttering under your breath, you call him a “useless bitch” and return to your phone, pouting once more.

but your frustration catches his attention. without you realizing it, toji shifts his focus to you—not just because of your outburst, but because of the sly comment you let slip. one hand rests on the back of your head as you look up at him, your eyes sparkling with hope for some acknowledgment. that hope quickly fades when you see the look in his eyes.

“wanna repeat that for me, pretty?” he asks, his voice low. your heart races as he gently pets the back of your head, and suddenly, all the gang members and bodyguards are looking your way.

“the mall’s closed,” you whisper, feeling small under their gaze. he chuckles, knowing you’re not as clueless as your bimbo outfit suggests.

“mmm, you think i’m a liar and a useless bitch, huh?” he scoffs, and you frown, realizing how impatient you’ve been.

“well, you are! you promised we were going shopping, but you’re prioritizing this shitty meeting!” with that, he simply nods, slipping his hand from your head and turning back to the men at the table.

“this—this is what happens when y’er pet never fuckin’ listens,” he announces to everyone, suddenly pulling you into his lap, making you yelp at his speed.

“’m not your pet—”

and with that toji had your pussy on display for everyone to see- to witness how your bratty mouth causes you to be punished when things don’t go your way. your mini skirt now thrown across the room as toji had you prettily on his lap- your back to his large chest- as he bucks his hips up from the squeaky chair, your pussy sobbing with loud and lewd squelches as your feet were up in the air- pretty platform heels on display- kept up nice and wide by his beefy arms as he commanded everyone to watch. your head rests on his shoulder as you tongue lolls out. he’s already fucked you dumb.

your moans bounce off the room as toji rams his cock into your cunt- kissing your cervix as you tighten around him. the chair squeaking with each thrust— your gummy walls nearly suffocating him. all the eyes on you make you squirm on tojis lap as you attempted to close your legs- but not as fast as he spreads your legs wider as you babble incoherent apologies.

“‘s too much toj’— you’re being ‘s mean,” you cry out as your cunt spasms around his thick cock. he grins as he finds this ironic— insulting him and you think this is too much. pathetic.

“mean? ‘m being mean? alright mama,” he darkly says as he rises from the chair, many pairs of eyes watching your every move as he bends you over the meeting table as it slightly shakes at the force- causing you gasp at the impact of the hard wooden table as you catch a glimpse of some of the men palming themselves to you.

tojis hands grip the flesh of your hips as his unrelenting tempo quickens as you sob out. your knees nearly give out as he hoists you up, chuckling at how much you’re struggling to take him. tojis merciless pounding cause you to crawl forward— you can’t take it anymore that he slams his cock deeper into your cunt as tears spill from your eyes, your makeup now ruined and smudged.

“going somewhere, doll?”

☆SUKUNA RYOMEN

— cw: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, jealous sukuna, monster fucking (i think), full nelson, etc.

“‘kuna?” you call out in his dark chambers, a chill creeping through the air. he already knew you were coming. stepping inside, you see dimly lit torches flickering against the cold, ancient stone, illuminating his crafted throne where he sits, a vision of beauty in his white kimono.

“‘kuna, what’s wrong?” you ask, feigning concern as his unsettling presence fills the room. his gaze is fixed elsewhere, and the two guards at his side look at you with barely concealed anger. you saunter closer, your heels echoing against the concrete floor as you ascend the steps to stand before him.

he’s mad. he barely acknowledges you, confusion swirling in your mind as you try to understand his sudden shift in demeanor.

“have I done something to upset you?” your voice drops, scanning his face for any sign of distress.

“what have you not done?” his low voice echoes ominously through the chambers, sending a shiver down your spine. you step back, taken aback by his tone, racking your brain for anything that might have provoked him.

“please, explain,” you plead, taking one of his massive hands in yours, feeling the heat radiate from him. all four of his crimson eyes fixate on you, piercing through the tension.

“I saw you too close to that scum,” he grits out, his expression darkening. your brows furrow as you think of who he’s referring to.

oh.

the guard.

you giggle, brushing it off as you reassure him you were just doing your duties around the estate, completely ignoring his darkening aura.

“if you really want that lowlife, then go,” he snaps, his eyes beginning to glow, a clear sign of his fury. your heart races, offended by his comment as he pushes your hand away. “leave,” he commands, and your heart sinks—what have you done to deserve this?

you nod, turning to walk away, but just before you can exit, you catch his attention. his ears perk up, listening intently as you toss out your final words.

“maybe I will fuck him—let us know if you’re willing to watch.”

with that, sukuna rises from his throne, a terrifying presence. you’ve truly provoked the king of curses.

shit.

“you think this is funny, woman,” sukuna growls in your ear as a pair of his hands drew you close, wrapping his arms securely around you, pinning your arms behind your head as your legs are dangling in the air- locking you in place. the warmth of his body envelop you as your back is tightly pressed against his broad chest. his thrusts are inhumane as your whole body bounces with every thrust as he has you on full display for anyone to walk in his chambers.

your poor cunt sobbing out loud cries as you’ve barely took him in whole. you rest your head on his shoulder as you’re panting loudly, pleading for him to slow down but it quickens his pace. his lower cock hitting your sensitive cunt as sukuna chuckles- enjoying your sobs- as sick as he is, it’s an encouragement. his other pair of hands play with your swollen clit with a playful smack! and your fondling with your sore breasts as he takes your nipples in between his fingers, pulling and pinching as it gives a new wave of pleasure that has you curling your toes in the air.

“how many times do ya’ run that mouth, huh? is there anything up there?” he laughs in your ear as you whine, everything’s too much for you that all you could do is nod.

“yeaaa there nothing there, my little fuck toy,” he rasps as your walls spasm around the delicious girth- his cock filling you up to the brim

“do you think this sloppy pussy craves that guard hmm? is she as nasty as you are?” he taunts as he slaps your cunt twice. you sob loudly as more tears spill from your eyes— your cunt tightening around his length as his brow quirks up.

“you fuckin’ slut—“ he growls as he’s now speaking to your pussy as a mouth forms on his hand as he hovers it against your cunt— his tongue sucking on your clit as you start babbling nonsense. the combination of his thrusts and new stimulations send electricity through your body as you feel your orgasm approaching fast. sukuna removes his hand aww from your cunt as rough pace does not stop. sukuna grabs the base of his lower cock- parting your slick folds as a sinful thought comes to mind. he darkly chuckles behind you as his thrusts come to a brief stop- giving you time to take a breather as he still remains himself deep in your pussy.

“let’s test and see if she can handle another one, hmm?”

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chompe-diem · 2 years

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OH MY LORD I HAVE NOT YET FELT THIS MUCH AAAAHHGGHHHHHGHSSBBSHXDB ABOUT MURPH AND HIS APPARENT CURSE OF BAD ROLLS-

#is that a liveblog i see?#this is directly about jens lyndelle trinyvale episode 18.#HE WAS DOING SUCH MOVES #CRYING. ON THR FLOOR #ON MY KNEES BEGGING THE DICE CHRIST FOR MERCY #ALSO SPEAKING OF EPIC MOVES MURPH DID WHEN HE CAST THE CURE WOUNDS. HUGE #honestly it was like good move etc etc but truly elevated by 12x simply thru caldwell’s reaction #that shit made me so happy bruh i replayed that bit a few times #hes simply just so excited and entertained by it. and it’s a fire move by murph preceded wtih some dragonball reference i dont understand #so good. so good #anyways this (murph thwarted by the dice) is very upsetting #i am new!!! yes i have heard the stories but to witness them myself i have not!#cannot believe this #‘this’ not being that murph’s dice like to make him suffer #but rather being the depth of tragedy i feel in my body from experiencing this for the first time #this is. heartbreaking #i feel robbed and bereft #nothing worse than this has happened in my lifetime #okay okay im done being dramatic but ACCGCBRB

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landosjpg · 5 months

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silk and wine | ln

the one where your boyfriend can’t wait to get to the bedroom.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~1.2k

warnings: smut so MINORS DNI, pwp, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this), mirror sex, soft-dom!lando, a little bit of humiliation and a little bit of praise, a spank or two, slight chocking, (tell me if i’m forgetting anything)

note: based on this request. this had me screaming and crying because what does he need all those mirrors for!!!! also reminder that my requests are open if you’d like to send something!

his hands were on you the second the elevator’s doors closed, your back against the wall as he kissed you like he was starving.

you and your boyfriend had gone out for dinner with some friends; his hand already glued to your thigh during the few hours that you two were our.

damn, the dress you wore made him want to strip you out of it. he even suggested cancelling your plans and staying at home. it would be so much fun, he said.

you could already tell that his breath was heavier on your way back to your apartment, his hand squeezing your thigh; so it didn’t come as a surprise when he grabbed your ass and moaned into the kiss, pressing his body against yours.

“lando,” you whispered against his lips, scared that someone would walk in as soon as the doors opened again.

he didn’t seem to care, though, dragging you down the hallway with his lips still on yours, hands grabbing at anything he could.

he clumsily opened the door, hands slightly shaky and in need of more of you. he didn’t even give you time to get your jacket off before he was pushing you against the hall’s console table; blindly, he pushed the candles and all the other decorations aside to make room to lift you up so he could get in between your legs while his tongue kept fighting yours.

“need you so bad,” he panted, his lips going down to your jaw and pressing wet kisses to your skin, making your breath get heavier. “been thinking about ripping this little dress off you all night.”

a pathetic whine left your lips when he sucked on your skin, surely leaving a mark for the very next morning.

“please,” you begged, nothing turning you on more than knowing how bad he wanted you.

“so needy already, baby?” he chuckled against your neck, his hands going up your thighs and pulling your dress up until they found home in your ass again.

“‘m not,” you mumbled, your voice revealing the effect his hard-on pressed against your thigh had, despite of your words.

at your bravery, lando looked back at you with a devilish smirk and his eyebrows up.

“is that so?” he asked, mockingly. then, he tapped your thigh twice and added: “turn around for me.”

you did as he asked, slowly, and as soon as you met your reflection in the mirror on top of the table, you knew what was going through his mind. and fuck, was it hot.

“not needy, hm?” his voice was now low as he traced up your thigh, pulling your dress up to pool at your hips.

you nodded.

“let’s see how long it takes you to ask for my cock,” he murmured as his fingers traced the edges of your underwear teasingly. “want you to see how pathetic you look when you beg me to fuck you.”

you yelped when he pulled your underwear down to your knees and his thumb quickly found your clit, circling it slowly. with his free hand, he held your chin in place so yo were looking directly into the mirror.

you watched as he kept touching you slowly, his fingers sliding down to your folds and spreading your wetness before poking at your entrance.

“lando,” you whimpered, your eyes closing at the feeling of two of his digits sliding inside your pussy.

“eyes open,” he ordered, voice low and demanding. you complied, the hand that was in your face coming down to wrap around your throat.

he squeezed gently as he scissored his fingers at a torturous slow pace, making you try to grind down on his hand, silently asking for more.

with a devilish smirk, he looked at you over the mirror and instead, started to thrust his fingers in and out of you even at a slower pace, stealing a whine from your lips.

“please,” you panted, your eyes getting watery at the denial of more stimulation.

“please what, baby?” he asked, a mocking pout on his lips. “are you going to cry, hm?”

you could only answer by grinding your hand down on his palm with a whine, looking for that extra friction that he kept denying you.

“nuh huh,” he withdrew his fingers from you, a cry leaving your lips as you watched your reflection in the mirror.

you were a mess, the tears forming in your eyes and the desperation on your face for him to finally fill you with his cock making you look definitely pathetic.

“come on, love,” he cooed, his hands slowly unbuckling his belt to pull his suit pants down. you pushed your hips back, once again, looking for some friction. “use your words.”

his command came with a sharp slap to the meat of your thigh as he kept undressing himself, the impact making you moan again.

“need you to fuck me,” you finally pleaded, your voice shaky and unsteady, unable to hide your desperation.

“good girl,” he mumbled, pushing you slightly forward and positioning your legs and arms to his liking. “look at you, so pretty all for me,” he added, forcing you to look into the mirror once again as he slid his cock between your folds.

one of his hands found your throat again, the other one gripping your hip as he pushed inside you, filling you completely in one swift movement.

he barely even gave you time to adjust to his size before he was thrusting into you at a relentless pace.

he felt so good you couldn’t control the volume of your sounds, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts; and every time he caught you trying to close your eyes, his fingers squeezed around your throat, reminding you to keep looking.

“‘m close,” you managed to pant in between loud cries, your legs already starting to shake.

“i know, baby,” lando answered, feeling your pussy clenching around him so tightly that he would cum at any given second too. “let go for me.”

his words triggered your orgasm, your walls drawing his cock further inside you and causing him to fill you up with his cum only a few seconds later.

he leaned closer to you and rested his forehead on your shoulder as the both of you tried to catch your breath back.

“you did so good, baby,” he whispered, kissing your skin softly before wrapping his arms around your waist.

you pressed your back against his chest, one of your hands reaching for his cheek and softly caressing him as you looked at the both of you in the mirror, a tired smile on your lips.

“so you like the dress?” you chuckled.

“mhm,” lando hummed, his nose brushing against the crook of your neck softly. “still want to rip it off you,” he added.

at his words, you slowly turned around to face him, arms wrapping around his neck. your lips found his again in a heated kiss and soon his hands were already looking for the zipper, guiding you to the bedroom to have you all for himself one more time that night.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 smut #ln4 fluff

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val-of-the-north · 11 days

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The "Hornsent deserved it" sentiments make me lose my goddamn mind

Short answer: No they didn't.

Long answer: Oh my gooooooooooood can we NOT do this shit, please???

There are two underlying sentiments to this line of thinking.

The Hornsent hurt Marika's people, thus Marika did nothing wrong, therefore they deserved to die badly

The Hornsent hurt Marika's people + Midra and some others, Marika is still evil, but the Hornsent deserved to be destroyed

Both may even come to the extreme of "Messmer wasn't cruel enough" or some other nonsense in the same vein.

Number 1

To tackle number one, we need to remember a little thing called Elden Ring's base game. The Hornsent's jar ritual is undoubtedly abhorrent, that much is true. But I urge you to remember the things that happened during Marika's reign. She:

Murdered all of the Fire Giants but one, subjecting him to a fate similar to hers but worse, forced into labor confined on the mountain among the remains of his people and culture. She mocked him, to boot. All of this because they might have burnt the Erdtree.

Enslaved the Misbegotten from birth "or worse" because their species just so happened to have made contact with the Crucible.

Rewarded her own loyal Crucible Knights with scorn because of it too, as they didn't fit her current society that they fought to establish.

Made sure the Albinaurics were seen as lesser just because they were graceless, which influenced the way they were treated. She even had her Inquisition, run by Rykard, torture them in needlessly cruel manners, as they appear to be their main victims.

Just in general, she allowed Rykard to run a sadistic Inquisition to torture heretics to the Golden Order in the first place, and she saw nothing wrong with it or their practices.

She entombed the entire Great Caravan over a false rumor, which is the sole reason why the Flame of Frenzy was even a problem during her reign. This has also scarred the remainder of their people greatly.

Made the lives of all Omen a living hell either by cutting their horns just as they were born which often kills them, hunting them down in as cruel a way as possible by using their trauma and body parts against them, or throwing them in a sewer to fester with evil spirits hidden from view. She also used to shackle them, including her two children, just to make extra sure they wouldn't crawl out.

Shunned anyone who saw a vision of the Erdtree burning, regardless of who it was, and chased them away from their homes.

Literally allowed the belief that shorter people are somehow lesser, for apparently no reason at all (her most random discrimination decision tbh). This forces them to band together and take up honorless jobs just to get by, and in turn, people start to spread rumors of their inhuman practices, which are likely all untrue.

Had people literally work as slaves for the nobility just by virtue of "being born into obscurity", whatever that means. As well as other accounts of slavery like the Fallen Hawks (likely tied to the defeated soldiers of ancient Stormveil).

Likely endorsed viewing anyone without Grace as inferior beings, which includes the Tarnished that only exist because she divested them of it. She has done nothing to ease their discrimination (despite potentially seeing them as a future asset of sorts), as even the members of the Crusade are more than ready to kill us, like Fire Knight Queelign.

All of this was done in service to HER religion and order. Killing all the Fire Giants and burying the Nomadic Merchants alive? Oh, they could have ruined her age with those pesky flames of theirs.

Systematically oppressing Omen, Misbegotten, Albinaurics and the likes? Oh, they are impure creatures, unlike her people, blessed with the Grace of Gold, elevated from the rest. (Which is the exact same line of thinking as the Hornsent and their horns for crying out loud).

"Oh but the Hornsent stuffed her people into jars" yeah, and I am not arguing the contrary! It was a cruel, deranged practice, born of simple superstition that their victims would be reborn as "good people". But Marika's answer if you don't fit her vision of the world is to either get rid of you and your people through extermination, by literally hounding you from your rightful home, or by enslaving you.

Both sides are genuinely awful... but there's only one side that people are justifying, and it sure as hell isn't the Hornsent.

Marika's backstory is meant to make her less a god, which is all we have ever known her to be before the DLC, and more a human, which is what she once was. It gives her complexity as a character, it's meant to be the catalyst from which we learn why she took the path that she took. It is absolutely not meant to make us go "holy shit guys, Marika was the good guy all along???", because what she brought upon this world through her burning desire for vengeance has ruined it irreparably, and ruined the lives of most of the creatures who inhabit it.

This includes her ruthless, honorless, pointless Crusade against the Hornsent. Sure, it was her own son that started it, but it was for her sake. It was her who allowed him to wage it, he had her full support... until the thing turned to such a slaughter-fest that even she could not associate with it anymore due to how appalling it all was. And what better way to do that than to seal her own son away to wage war endlessly? And not just because his actions made her look bad, but also for the same crippling fear and prejudice that saw her kill all Fire Giants but one and scar the Great Caravan.

Gratuitous violence across the board, and for what?

(I want to make it absolutely clear that I don't mean you can't like Marika now. In fact, I'd say the DLC made her much more of an interesting character to me as well. I just cannot fathom seeing the entirety of Elden Ring and coming out thinking "wow Marika was the good guy" because she isn't. Heck, coming out thinking that she'd be disgusted with what her grandson Godrick is doing with grafting as if she isn't the queen of having zero empathy for those who are graceless or aren't her family, which the Tarnished he grafts are neither. She'd probably be very proud if anything. Marika is a monster. She became one the moment she obtained godhood, because no milestone would quell her. She did all the wrongs, so take this whole section as a refresher in case you had forgotten)

Number 2

Now, to tackle number 2... this one seemingly has more nuance, but falls for the tried and true pitfall of "the many must pay for the crimes of the few" which is exactly where it rots and collapses onto itself.

Apparently, because of the perpetrators of the Jar Rituals, ALL Hornsent, INDISCRIMINATELY, deserve to be destroyed. They all, each and every single one, deserve the Crusade and the absolute pointless ruin that it brought them. From the children, to the ones who were friends with people with no horns, to the ones who found their own practices grotesque, to the ones that weren't even tied to the Tower's religion and were just simply living their lives.

They ALL, EQUALLY deserve to be burned, to have their cities destroyed, to have their lives ruined. All of them. Ok.

Number 2 works with the assumption that the Hornsent are some sort of hive mind. Some sort of all-encompassing religious order who believes in their superiority. But that's just the Tower's religion. Hornsent are a people. And people are individuals, with their own opinions, their own lives. In fact, from the perspective of the average Hornsent citizen, they were attacked out of nowhere as they were living in peace, which likely means they weren't even at war with Marika before this event.

People also have the assumption that all of the Hornsent were benefiting from their society, which is blatantly false. In fact, outside the treatment of the Shamans, the people that we know the Hornsent have hurt the most are their fellow Hornsent. We know of quite a few of them suffering at the hands of their kin BECAUSE of their religious and cultural practices.

Being Hornsent isn't a "free from mistreatment" card. If anything, the large Gaols where they were imprisoned were built specifically to house them. The main prisoners we find in large numbers are commoners, the same types as the ones scavenging the ruins of their ravaged towns. They are often seen eating maggots off the floor and cowering in fear. All of them were Hornsent too, locked away for who knows what crime. Could have been big and important, small and insignificant, or even just a failure to do something properly (there's precedent), point is, it's clear the Hornsent weren't having a good time in there.

The jar rituals were used mainly as punishment for the imprisoned Hornsent themselves, as a way to have them become "good people". This was just as horrifying for the Hornsent prisoners as it was for the Shamans I assume. Look how terrified this Hornsent seemed at the prospect of sharing that fate. This is the reason why they chopped up Shamans in the first place, as ritual ingredients for a punishment meant primarily for their kin.

And there were more Hornsent who suffered because of the leading ideology. Curseblades were once shunned because they failed to become tutelary deities, and so they were thrown in the Jar Gaols. They were only let out so they could use their expertise and flowing movements to defend their homeland when Messmer invaded, otherwise they'd be rotting with the Innard Shamans and the other Hornsent prisoners the way Labirith is.

It's also worth pointing out that Midra's Mense was filled with Hornsent attendants who sided with their sagely master regardless of his lack of horns and what the Inquisition believed of him. If we were to operate with reasoning number 2, they too would deserve to be murdered in the Crusade because they just so happened to be Hornsent. Because ALL Hornsent deserve extermination for what happened to the Shamans.

And we also know that the Hornsent can find what happens in Bonny Village revolting. In fact, we know that from someone who was born and raised there.

This sounds nothing like someone who thought any of that was ok. So who is to say other Hornsent weren't like this too, especially those who DIDN'T live in Bonny Village? Those who risked being stuffed into those same jars themselves? We make waaaay too many assumptions about an entire race, and that in itself is foolish enough.

If there's someone to blame, it's the Tower's Inquisition. They are the religious order that governs the Hornsent. They have all the power in their society... and yet, would you look at that? Enir-Ilim, their sanctum, the one place where those calling the shots reside, is completely untouched. And what about Bonny, the most structurally fine Hornsent settlement, when you'd expect it to be a black stain of char by now. But nope, no sign of Messmer activity and the Greater Potentates are just running around naked, doing their thing as usual.

The Crusade isn't even a good tool of vengeance, the only ones suffering are the civilians who were likely the ones with a higher risk of ritual jar punishment anyway. If this isn't proof enough that the Crusade is a completely petty, useless revenge war that accomplishes nothing I don't know what else to say. I'll just leave with what the people taking part in it were taking pride in doing.

These are people who, without a shadow of a doubt, would have chopped up most of the oppressed groups described earlier and stuffed them into jars if Marika had told them to do so. (Heck, something like this was being done to the Albinaurics already, as we have seen previously...)

They have zero moral superiority, their deranged zealotry is the only reason they act in the first place. Not to mention that they have no connection to Marika's struggles or past, nor were they informed of them I bet. It's likely only Messmer truly knows the reason for the Crusade, and that's only because he is her child and shoulders all the blame onto himself.

"Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death" is LITERALLY their motto. Do you really think they stopped at the Hornsent? They were just their main target, but judging by the way all of Messmer's soldiers, including Queelign and the other Fire Knights, and even HE HIMSELF, attack us on sight for the simple fact we are Tarnished and lack Grace in our eyes, I have no doubt in my mind these people were just rounding up and killing anyone who didn't conform with the Golden Order.

THESE are the people who should be allowed to play judge, jury and executioner with the entire Hornsent race. And people will genuinely, with a straight face, tell you "That's right".

To conclude... I think I actually hate reasoning 2 more than reasoning 1 lol, despite not liking either at all. At least 1 is understandable. Marika is a very interesting character, one that we have known for a few years now. We have an attachment to her, heck, sentiments of her being some sort of misunderstood/rebellious figure were already there before the DLC. In that regard, I understand the emotional response, even though I still think it's a wrong mindset to have. I have at least some hope that it is purely in the realm of fiction because it's a beloved character, nothing more...

Reasoning 2, on the other hand, attempts to be nuanced, or at least pretends to be. In reality, all it peddles is the "an eye for an eye" mentality which is much too common irl as well. Not only that, but it deals in monoliths. All people belonging to a group or race are equally responsible for stuff they didn't even commit, stuff that could have even harmed them, because their leaders decided to commit crimes against another set of people. And don't get me wrong, there will be even commoners from that group or race that will agree with and celebrate that bad deed, but just as many will not, but will be either scared, powerless, already being punished for speaking up through physical violence or elaborate shunning, or currently protesting and doing something to hopefully ignite a change.

But that reasoning only exists to perpetuate cycles; of war, violence, and hate for the most part. And sadly, this mindset is very prevalent, a lot of people fail to see the issue with wanton violence as long as it's to stroke that lust for vengeance. And vengeance is a theme that Elden Ring criticizes multiple times in a row, even beyond the obvious horror of the Crusade.

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #queen marika the eternal #hornsent #messmer the impaler #queen marika #it's just something that has been on my mind for some time #in general though I did want to do a list of Marika wrongdoings #tying it to a post about the Hornsent just felt fitting too #these sentiments are just... so ass #val-post

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sanguineterrain · 2 months

Text

most normal thing in the world | jason todd

Summary: You get hit with a love spell. Naturally, the first person you seek out is Jason Todd.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings/tags: love spell (so potentially mild dubious consent but all the feelings are reciprocated), lovesick you, lovesick jason, repressed jason, LOTS of cuddling/lovie stuff, needles, magic, pining, happy ending.

the divider

Jason's having a good night.

He made himself an indulgent lasagna, and now he's got leftovers for tomorrow. He's off from patrol tonight, which, he must admit, was nice of Cass to offer.

Yeah, Jason actually feels pretty normal. Feels like any young person would. Hell, he might put on a movie he won't pay attention to, or finally adopt a cat, just to keep the normal streak going. That's what young folks do, right?

(He can think of some other things young people do, things that Jason won't allow himself to dream of.)

Knock knock.

Jason sighs. Well. The streak was good while it lasted.

He gets up, shuffling over in his sweats. He undoes the four locks and opens the door to reveal... you.

"Uh, hey," he says, cracking the door wider. "Everything okay?"

It's late. You shouldn't be out now, even if the sun hasn't gone down yet.

Jason frowns when you sway in the doorway and don't respond.

Then you flash him the sweetest smile he's ever been on the receiving end of. Wow. Sure, Jason's seen you flash your pretty teeth before. But not like this. And not at him.

"Hi, Jaylove. Hi."

"Uh." He watches you walk right past him, into his apartment. He shuts the door. "Hi... What's goin' on? You alright?"

You turn to face him. "Why wouldn't I be? After all, you're here."

"What?"

You walk to him and take his hands in yours. Jason's eyebrows rise.

"Hey...?" Jason says, looking at your joined hands. You lace your fingers together.

"My prince," you say happily. "Your eyes are beautiful. Like emeralds. And you have a beautiful mouth. Your whole face is beautiful. I'd like to paint you."

"Are you on drugs?" Jason releases your hands to hold your face. He gently pushes your eyelids up to inspect your pupils. You just smile.

"I feel high when you touch me," you say. "Just being near you is drug enough."

Yeah, Jason's now feeling a healthy amount of paranoia. It's not that you don't stop by or that you're not nice. No, you're the sweetest creature Jason's ever had the pleasure of meeting.

But wanting to touch him? Thinking he's beautiful? Calling him your prince? Either you're drugged or he's died again and found paradise.

Then again, he probably wouldn't still be in Gotham if this were paradise. You'd definitely be here, though.

"Right. Your eyes are fine." Jason lets go of your face. "You sure you didn't take anything? Drink anything? Run into anyone?"

"I drank tea," you say, gazing up at him. "And I petted a fat orange cat. Don't you want a cat?"

"I surely do. You drank tea?"

"Mmhm. It was almost as amazing as you."

Jason nods and lets go of you so he can take your hand. "Okay. We're going to the Cave."

"How come?" you ask, but you don't protest as he leads you out and into the elevator.

"Because I wanna make sure you're okay," he says, pushing the button labeled one. You're definitely not okay, but he doesn't want to worry you.

"Oh." You lean against Jason's arm. He stiffens and looks down at you. You just burrow into his side. "'Cause you love me?"

Breath catches in his throat. You can't mean that. Do you even know what you're saying? No, impossible.

You look up when he's silent for too long. "Jay-Jay? Didja hear me?"

"Yeah," he says slowly. "Yeah, I did."

You look at him, big eyes sweet. "Don't you love me too? I love you."

Jason swallows hard. "I, um, don't think you're in your right mind."

Your lip quivers. Oh, God. No, please don't cry, please don't—

"You don't love me?" you ask, tears welling.

"I do love you," Jason says quickly, panicking at your distress. "I do. Shit. Please don't cry, honey. I do love you."

You frown, cheeks wet. "You're just saying that! You hate me!"

Jason shakes his head. "No, no! Oh, never, I could never hate ya, honest! I was just... um, this is the first time we've said it to each other, y'know? I do love you. Have for a long time now."

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, soaking up your tears. You sniffle but accept this, nodding.

"Oh. I'm sure I've told you that I love you before. I love you so much, Jason. I'll never love anyone the way I love you."

God, this is fucking torture. As the elevator reaches the ground floor, Jason takes a deep breath, lets you link your fingers with his, and leads you out to the street. The universe is intent in never granting him a normal night. Noted.

There's no way you're in your right mind. Jason's figured this from the start. But that doesn't make the way you look at him, like he's anybody worth looking at, any less painful.

He pulls out his phone, shoots a quick text to Dick. ETA 10 min.

Dick responds two seconds later. What's up?

Possible Code 12.

Jason pockets his phone, running through potential reasons for what did this to you. Ivy's not wreaking havoc tonight, as far as he knows.

Meanwhile, you're in another world, humming and holding his hand. Jason's thought about this many times, holding your hand and taking you for rides, you adoring him, hugging him, kissing him. He's nothing if not a masochist.

"Okay, sweetheart," Jason says, and you immediately turn to him, like a flower showing its face to the sun. Jason is no one's sun, though. He's more like the worm under your boot.

"Hm?" you ask, stroking his arm. Jason does his best to be normal about it.

"We're gonna, um, go to the Cave. You okay on my bike?"

You glance at his bike, and there's a tinge of apprehension on your face. Jason reaches for your shoulder, stops, then forces himself to touch you. You're not going to recoil from him, not in this state. And he's not doing it for himself; he's only touching you so that you'll let him take you to the Manor and figure out what's what.

He's not a bastard for holding your shoulder, right? He's doing it just so that you'll be safe.

(It doesn't matter. Jason knows he's a bastard for being in your life at all.)

You lean into him when he touches your shoulder.

"Never been on your bike, Jay," you say.

"I know. But I swear to you that you're safe. You know I'd never let anything happen to you, right? Never."

You nod. "Yeah. You always look out for me. 'S part of why I love you so much."

Good God. Jason's going to be a ball of self-hatred for the next millenia over this.

He puts his spare helmet on you, helping you fit the chin guard underneath.

"Okay?" he asks.

You give him a thumbs-up. Jason smiles and puts his own helmet on.

"You gotta hold on real tight, okay? As tight as you can. Don't worry 'bout hurting me."

"Mmkay!"

He helps you mount the bike first, then follows. As soon as he's on, you wrap your arms around his middle and smush your helmet into his back.

How long has he dreamed about this? Taking you on late-night rides, feeling you pressed against him, squealing as he floats through traffic (he'd never speed the way he does when he's alone; Jason doesn't give a shit about his own body, but your safety matters).

"The bike is loud, so I'm not gonna hear you if you say something, but if you want me to stop, tap my shoulder three times, okay?"

"Okay, Jaylove." You squeeze him in what's clearly a hug. "Ready."

Jason's not sure he is. It's been a long time since anyone's touched him, much less someone he's head over heels for. You're so trusting, it makes him ache. Jason's just glad he's the first jerk you laid your eyes upon instead of the magic you're under pushing you into the arms of someone dangerous.

He starts up his bike. Jason's had guests on his bike before, mostly his brothers and, once, the old lady who runs the tea shop down the block.

He's never had a lovely thing like you snuggled up to him, clinging to him. Jason feels rabid. He feels like he needs to be shot and put out of his misery.

He follows all of the road rules so you won't be scared. You don't tap his shoulder or shake, so Jason figures you're fine. He's good. He's being good for you.

Jason slows as he goes down the ramp to the Cave entrance. He stops at the mouth of the Cave and dismounts first, pulling off his helmet.

"You alright in there?" he asks, offering his hand.

You wrap your arms around his neck and Jason wobbles as he recalibrates and snakes an arm around your shoulders instead and helps you off that way. He removes your helmet. You blink at the new light, then look at him, moony-eyed once again.

"I was kinda scared," you admit. "But I trust you, Jaybee. Always."

"Got you here in one piece, didn't I?" he says, winking at you.

"Uh-huh!"

Jason sees what you're going to do before you try. He sees the way you look at his lips, how you rear back, ready to leap and kiss him.

He redirects you immediately, preferring that to making you cry again. He hates it when you cry. Your soft mouth lands on his jaw instead.

Jason smiles, strained. You're annoyed at the fact that you missed, and Jason can see that you're about to try again when Dick and Tim come into view.

He's never been more thrilled to see his brothers.

"Fellow bretheren," Jason says. He knows his voice is thin. "Funny seein' you here."

You're briefly distracted and wave to be polite. But then you force Jason's left ear to your level and catch the lobe between your teeth.

Holy fuck. Jason nearly buckles at the sensation. He's never understood the ears as an erogenous zone before—now he gets it. He's ashamed of how heat pools in his gut as you nip his ear.

Jason balances you with an arm around your waist, gingerly trying to both hide his reaction and separate you. He accomplishes neither. Tim's eyebrows are at his hairline; Dick's mouth is open, no doubt ready to make a smart-ass comment.

"Well, it's nice to see you two so... affectionate," Dick says, holding back a grin.

Jason rolls his eyes. "I need you to run tests. They showed up to my door like this, all over me."

"Yeah, that is weird," Tim says.

"Thank you very much for that, Timbit," Jason grumbles. You kiss under his ear and weave your fingers through his hair. Jason manages to get your hands off, but your mouth is still firmly planted on his neck. He clears his throat. Normal!

"I dunno, Jason," Dick says. "It's not that weird. People fall in love every day."

And, okay. Jason can do teasing. He can even do borderline psychotic remarks. That's part of having siblings. He's made a few in his day. They've all stabbed or shot each other.

But now Dick is just being cruel.

Jason scowls. "Take their blood so we can fucking get this over with. They're clearly under a love spell."

His scathing tone surprises Dick, but it really startles you. You've moved away from his ear (Jason is both relieved and disappointed) and return to cradling his arm. You're alarmed by his reply.

"Jaylove?" you ask. "What happened? Are you mad?"

Jaylove? Jason sees Tim mouth. He forces himself to focus on you, be gentle for you.

"Hm, no, not mad at ya, sweetheart. Sorry 'bout that. But we need to run some medical tests on ya, 'kay? Can we do that?"

"Sure," you chirp, linking your arm with his.

Dick and Tim slip into Work Mode. Jason appreciates that. His nerves are frayed. He senses a self-destructive episode coming on after you're cured. Maybe he'll throw himself into a bar fight tonight.

"Symptoms?" Tim asks, going to the computer.

"Being in love with me," Jason says dryly.

"Besides that. Any physical symptoms like dizziness or nausea? Recklessness?"

"No, didn't notice any sickness. Not reckless; they did everything I said." Jason swallows, says the next part quietly, fearfully. "Probably jump into the Hudson if I asked."

Tim nods sharply. Dick prepares to draw your blood. Again, you're apprehensive. But Jason soothes you, pets you, and you're leaning into him like a cat in its favorite patch of sun as Dick takes your blood.

"I wanna get married," you say as red fills the second vial.

Dick shoots him a sympathetic look. Jason looks away.

"Soon, honey," Jason says, ignoring how his stomach's a pit.

He didn't think about love or relationships when he came back. Didn't care, not when he had revenge to plot.

But after all that was over, after he met you, after he found a reason to keep living, Jason started thinking about it.

And what he realized is that he's never getting married.

By choice? Yes, sure. Jason loves pretending he has a choice in anything. Sure, he chooses to abstain from marriage, like normal people out there do. But really, he avoids attachment it wouldn't be fair to anyone. He knows he's not made for that. His death made him unsalvageable. It's a miracle he's here at all. How dare he ask for more?

And inside, he chokes on a vine of hatred for everyone else who can find someone. Who's capable of loving and being loved. It even, to Jason's shame, has reared its head at you, whispered in his ear about how you're not damaged, so of course you'll find someone one day. Of course you'll leave him eventually. It would be stupid of him to hope otherwise.

"When?" you ask as Dick starts on the third vial. You don't even notice. Dick could probably drain you dry as long as Jason's in front of you. "When can we get married?"

"How 'bout next month?" Jason says without thinking. He would. He'd marry you tomorrow.

You think about this for a moment, then nod. "Yes, that would be good. I've always wanted a fall wedding."

"Yeah? I always liked the idea of marrying in the spring. All the flowers."

"No," you say. "Pollen's out. You'd be sneezing your head off."

Jason laughs, then wants to cry, because you know that he's allergic to pollen.

"Yeah, y'right," he says, voice thick. "Fall wedding's better."

"Alright, all done!" Dick says, forcefully cheerful. He removes the needle and puts a Bandaid on the inside of your elbow. You rest your head on Jason's arm. Jason tries not to boil himself in a fire of misery. You probably won't even remember this.

Dick watches you both, then tugs your hand. "Hey, you mind helping me fill out some info? For the tests."

Your mouth shrivels. You look at Jason, and he can't believe he's your North Star, magic or not.

"I don't wanna leave Jason," you say.

"He'll be right here," Dick says quickly. "Won't leave your sight for a second. But I need your help."

"Just for a minute?" you ask.

Dick nods. "One minute."

You sigh and turn to Jason. "I'll be right back."

Jason nods, tries to smile. "Sure. I'll be here."

He'll be here. Forever and ever and ever...

Wait a second. Tea. Jason jolts.

"Tim. They said they drank tea. Could be something there."

"On it," Tim says. "Dick, we need a mouth swab."

"Right." He turns to you. "Can I—"

"No," you say, and march back to Jason. "You said a minute."

Jason would laugh at the pout on your face, the way you plop yourself next to him and curl around him like he's a new toy. He would laugh. If he could find the humor.

Dick looks at him. Jason sighs.

"Honey?" You hum. "We just need one more test, yeah? Q-tip on your tongue. Not the most pleasant, but it'll be quick. Promise."

"Okay," you say immediately, hugging his arm.

Jason knows it's a spell, or maybe a lab-made chemical. But he's still awed by how quickly you acquiesce. How you show no worry when Dick approaches because Jason's right there, patting your hand.

Dick swabs your mouth. You cough three times after, most of your body on Jason.

"Interesting how they're not lustful," Dick says.

"What," Jason says.

"Okay, the ear thing was..." Dick shrugs. "But it's not mindless. It's actually the most reasonable love spell I've ever seen. Like, their desires for you don't feel manufactured, they feel—"

"Don't," Jason snaps. "Don't fuckin' say it."

Dick holds up his hands. "It was just an observation. You've seen Ivy's pollen doses. This one seems different."

"Fine. Ivy's taking a break from the orgies. Doesn't mean this is real."

Jason's not stupid enough to hope.

"It can't be Ivy," Tim says, and Jason almost startles. He forgot Tim was there, so wrapped up in you. "No reports of Ivy attacks. And the substance, whatever it was, wasn't inhaled. It was injested."

You wrap your arms around Jason's neck and smush your face against his. You're warm and smell good. Jason feels feral.

He holds you with a hand on your back, mind turning.

"Sweetheart," he says. You hum. "You said you drank tea after work. Where exactly did you go?"

"Dunno," you say, spacey. "Went into a tea shop that's never been there before. And an old lady invited me in. She said I looked so sad. And I was, Jaybee! How did she know?"

"Hm. Well, she gave me a tea sample, said it would make all my problems disappear. Then I petted her cat named Darcy. Like that book you like!"

"I don't know, honey," Jason says quietly, even though he has a suspicion. He's never letting you walk home alone again.

Tea shop. That's what he gets for trying to be a good Samaritan. How dare she drug you?

God, Jason just wants to hug you tight and kiss your face. It's awful of him to think of you as cute in your state, he knows.

"Track their routes," Jason says. "They take two different ones home. One crosses Bank Street, the other goes over the bridge."

"I'd call you a stalker but I really have no right," Tim says, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"No shit," Jason mumbles, letting you play with his fingers.

"Jason," Dick says quietly. He glances at you, then at his brother. "If it's too much, we can sedate them."

"No. We don't know how it'll react to the tea. It's not Ivy's brew."

Dick frowns. He knows Jason's right. Jason knows he's right.

"Okay, I got something. Magic signatures from a building on Tenth Street," Tim says. "And I think I'm onto an antidote."

"I'll check it out," Dick says, going to suit up. He looks at Jason. "Are you-?"

Jason nods. "I'm fine. Go."

So Dick does. Tim is able to make an antidote within the hour. He gives it to Jason who injects it into your neck. He feels guilty even though this is what’ll cure you. You wince at the pinch but you don't so much as whimper, endlessly trusting.

"They'll probably crash soon," Tim says, out of your earshot. "I don't know if you should risk the bike."

Jason sighs. Tim's right, and it makes him all the more agitated that his brothers have been helpful and even kind of nice during the whole thing.

You're going to crash soon. Jason has no choice but to bring you up to the Manor.

"Come on, sweetheart," he says, taking your hand and standing.

"Where're we goin'?" you ask, yawning.

"Goin’ t’bed, honey. Aren't ya tired?"

"Hmm. Mmhmm."

"Yeah, thought so."

Jason leads you up the stairs and out of the Cave. He helps keep you steady as you trip up the stairs. He's tempted to just carry you, but he feels like that might be overkill.

Once at the top of the stairs, Jason stops. Swallows.

He hasn't been up here in a while. He slept in his room once after he returned, after a nasty encounter with Scarecrow.

"Wanna sleep in your bed, Jay," you mumble, cheek against his arm.

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Okay, love."

You go to his room. It's clean, as usual—Alfred never let it get dusty. Jason had hoped that if you ever saw his room it would be in much different circumstances. Normal circumstances.

But, well. Here you are.

"Hmm, 's nice," you say as Jason pulls back the bedspread and helps you out of your shoes. You start to take off your pants and he panics.

"Uh! Uh, baby, maybe keep the pants on. You might get cold."

You frown in confusion. "Doesn't feel cold."

"Yeah, but, whew, Alfred blasts the AC! Jus' keep 'em on."

Jason cannot handle seeing you in your underwear. He draws the line there.

"'Kay," you say, and flop onto the sheets. You wiggle around, getting comfortable.

Jason sits in the fat armchair in the corner of the room. Immediately, you sit up.

"Why're you over there?" you ask, eyes wide.

Oh, boy.

"Oh. I was, um, gonna read for a bit. I'll come in in a while."

Your lip trembles. No—

"Don't leave me, Jaybee. Don't leave! Stay with me. I love you!"

Jason rubs his forehead. "Honey—"

"You hate me! You do! I annoy you." Tears gather in your eyes.

Jason hurries to the edge of his bed, climbing in in his jeans and socked feet.

"No, no, love, we covered this. I don't hate ya, hm? Where'd ya get a silly thing like that?"

You quiet as he scoots in beside you. Then you throw most of your limbs over him. Jason stiffens.

"Just got scared," you say, and kiss his chest. "Promise you won't leave?"

Jason breathes in. Breathes out.

"Yeah. I promise."

And he stays.

You wake up with a faint headache and a dry throat. Sunlight peeks through the blinds. You feel warm and safe and well-rested, despite the slight pains.

You stretch, expecting air. Instead, you touch skin. You open your eyes.

Oh. You're in a bedroom.

No, scratch that. You see framed pictures of the Bats, books on shelves.

You're in Jason Todd's childhood bedroom. With the aforementioned tucked under your arm and leg.

You jerk away so hard, you land on the carpeted floor below.

Jason's up instantly, head poking over the bed. His eyes widen.

"Shit! Y'alright? C'mere."

He gets up and practically scoops you into a standing position. Your brain short-circuits: big strong man strong big good nice. Then you recover.

"Um," you say. "Uh. Hmm. Hi."

Jason smiles tightly. "Hey."

"What... how-?"

"Right. How much do you remember?"

You try to think. You remember walking home, drinking tea, an affectionate orange cat. You remember hands on your face and your stomach swooping on a motorcycle and a gentle voice. So gentle.

"You were magicked," Jason says quickly. "It was a, uh, tea shop. Dick's checking it out. You, um, came to me and I took you here and you got an antidote and you didn't want me to, um, leave. So, yeah. Sorry."

You tilt your head. "Why are you apologizing, Jason?"

He sighs. "Just 'cause."

You have no idea what that means. But you feel like Jason's telling you a very condensed version of what happened.

"What was the magic?" you ask.

He winces. "Love spell. You thought you were... in love with me."

Jason says it like he's the one who charmed you. Like he's ashamed of it.

"Oh," you say. Well, you certainly didn't need a spell for that to happen.

"Yeah." Jason's staring at your and his shoes by the door. "But everything's fine now. I can take you home. Dick and Tim'll take care of the tea shop witch."

He doesn't wait for a response, darting to the door and slipping into his shoes. You rush forward and close the door as Jason opens it. He looks at you in confusion.

"Jason," you say softly. "What happened?"

"Whaddya mean? I told you."

"Jason. I've known you for three years. You think I don't know when you're not telling me something?"

He looks at his feet. One of his socks has a hole in the toe.

"There's nothin' to tell," he mumbles. "Magic stuff. Happens all the time. Business as usual."

You frown. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Jay. I admittedly don't remember a lot."

Jason's expression is relief but there's a heaviness to his shoulders. "Well, 's for the best, really. Magic messes with your head."

"Did I make you uncomfortable, Jason? Not letting you leave and—God, I can't imagine how I was on the spell."

He shakes his head fervently. "No! No, no, my God, no. You didn't—you could never—I mean, I wasn't... fuck. No. You didn't make me uncomfortable."

"If you're sure," you say.

He nods. "Hundred percent."

Jason doesn't sound like he's lying. You're pretty good at detecting it, especially when it comes to his feelings.

So why is he acting weird?

Well, duh. A love spell. You probably freaked him out, especially since you really do love him.

"I hope we can still be friends," you offer.

Jason turns to the door.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "'Course we're still friends."

It shouldn't make you ache. Jason's perfectly in the right to not reciprocate how you feel. How can he reciprocate something he doesn’t even know exists?

"You, uh..." Jason scratches the back of his neck. He faces you once more. "You said last night that you were sad. When you were coming home. I just wanted to say, y'know... you can talk to me. 'Bout anything."

This will make all of your problems disappear, she had said. It'd tasted like kombucha—you hadn't had a lot of faith.

Jason begins to open the door. You slide in front of him and slam the door shut with your back. He steps back in surprise.

"Wh—"

"I have to tell you something!" you blurt.

Jason stills. "Okay."

"I adopted you a cat," you say.

He squints. "What?"

"Well, she's still at the shelter but I put her on reserve. Of a sort. I have a friend who works there. She's black and white and likes to cuddle and has two different colored eyes but she can't see very well. Her name is... whatever you want to name her. Because she's yours. And I think you'll love her."

He nods slowly. "I, uh, thanks. Thank you. I was thinking about adopting a—"

"I was sad last night because I kept thinking about how you're gonna love this cat I got you but you'll never love me, and how that's the fucking worst feeling in the world."

You've stunned him silent. Shit.

Seconds tick by. A minute. Two minutes.

"Okay," you say, wanting to jump out of Jason's two-story window. "I'm gonna go drop off the face of the Earth now. Bye."

You open the door. Jason closes it by caging you against it.

And then he kisses you.

Jason pours everything into the kiss. He's not a perfect kisser but it's good. It's magic. He holds your face completely, shuts out the entire world. Kisses the breath out of you.

Yes, you could go on. It's fantastic. It's fireworks. It's sunbeams.

And actually, it feels like the most normal thing in the world, kissing Jason Todd.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd x gn reader #jason todd x yn #red hood x yn #dc imagine

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acapelladitty · 5 months

Text

Strike A Bargain, Light A Match

Pairing: The Ghoul/Female Reader

AO3 Link

Fic Masterlist

Summary: Stuck in the desert and desperate for water, you find yourself captured by a ghoul who makes you an offer that you simply cannot refuse. (2.8k words)

(tw for: blowjobs, mildly dubious consent, cum marking, ropes/restraints, dirty talk, mild force, throat fucking)

As with most things in life, if something seemed too good to be true then it always was.

A canister, clear and blue and brimming with water, would always stand out against the desert background like a sore thumb and you knew that something wasn’t right. But, needs must, and the thirst which clawed at your senses made you stupid.

Christ, your fingers had barely brushed the lid of the canister when you were attacked.

You hadn't seen the rope arching towards you but you had felt the effect as it looped around your legs, quick as a bullet, and pulled them out from under you - slamming your body to the ground as a thick plume of dirt kicked up around your stunned frame to block out the darkening sky.

Voice hoarse due to the lack of moisture in your body, the sound that you made was almost like that of an animal, keening and rough, as you writhed on the ground. Hands flying to the rope which is encasing your legs, your fingers freeze in place as the unmistakable click of a gun echoes in your ear.

"Don't be touching that rope, darlin'. You trying to steal from me just got you a one-way ticket to a shakedown."

Accented words, smooth and deliberate, force you to look up and you wince in place at the horrific sight which blocked out the sky above as your would-be captor loomed over you.

Reddened skin, pocked and marked by radiation, with a gaping hole where the nose should have been gazed back down at you - marred features twisted into vague amusement as the skilled hunter took in your shocked expression.

A ghoul.

"Let me go." You croak out, throat feeling red and raw - a natural feeling given that it had now been over twelve hours since you'd had any water. "Let me up!" You cry, kicking out at the dirt.

"Not going to happen." The ghoul answers back without pause, his body shifting around so that he was standing tactfully to the side of your kicking legs. "Not even if you ask nicely, which you didn't."

"I didn't know it belonged to anyone." You try to say but the words burn and die out as a vicious cough wracks your upper body. The last week had been rough. A run in with raiders had robbed you of your latest haul and that included the meagre amounts of water that you had been able to gather in this vast, dusted part of the wasteland.

Watching you cough with a blank expression, the ghouls fingers disappear into his ratty coat as he pulls free a small, metallic flask from one of the inner pockets.

"Ain't listening to that shit."

Dropping to his haunches, his free hand grips your chin roughly, calloused fingers giving you no room to move as he carefully tilts the mouth of the flask between your lips. Fear spiralling in your chest as your breath comes in shallow pants, you purse your lips tight as you attempt to avoid whatever the hell he was trying to slip you. It's for nothing though as he forces you mouth open enough to allow some liquid to slip through.

Water.

Unable to help yourself, you gasp in shock, and instinct overtakes sense as you greedily sip down the few thankful gulps that you can. It soothes in an instant. The warm, slightly stale water may as well be liquid gold as it coats your throat, banishing away the drought which had lay before it.

Eyes watering as you choke a little on the liquid, the hand on your chin elevates your mouth enough to ensure that everything goes where it should before the flask is pulled away with a clinical precision.

"There." The ghoul grunts, his brow narrowed into a mild scowl as he observes you with a passive look. "Want to try that again, croaky."

"Didn't-didn't know it was yours. The water." You explain, meeting his eyes with your own. "I only needed a little bit. Haven't had any in-"

You cut yourself off, anxiety making you want to ramble but knowing that such a thing was stupid as hell when outside the safety of a group. Or even when around someone you didn’t have full trust in.

He takes your words for what they are as he stands to his full height once more.

"You're a pretty little thing to be out here all alone. This part of the desert isn't meant for pretty little things.” He grunts, hands on his hips. “There’s people out here that’ll do things to you that’d make your skin crawl right off if you knew.”

And he was right.

The sun beat down harshly during the day, making any menial task seem twice as difficult as scavenging became a race against overheating as much as it did the dangers which lurked around every corner. The nights were not much better as roving gangs sought to take everything they could from anything they found, living or dead.

The lucky ones would be killed and the unlucky would face the same fate.

Eventually.

Speaking of luck, the fact that your captor hadn't immediately caved your skull with a rock or used that gun to decorate the dust with your blood was something to be exploited.

"I'm sorry.” You offer up, palms flat in a show of non-aggression. “Let me up and we can talk about a trade for some of that water."

In a lawless land, bartering was king, and you prided yourself on your ability to talk yourself into getting what you needed. Raiders. Ghouls. Lunatics. Everyone wanted something, and your mental inventory of your stash flashed through your mind as your eyes trailed across your captor, seeking out some possible options which he may be interested in.

Covered mostly by dark leather, a bullet holster sits across his chest, looping over his shoulder and visibly containing several bullets which were no doubt comfortable in that gun of his. His leather coat is worn and frayed, the edges looking rough as hell and caked in dust and grime. What visible skin lay open to the slowly darkening sun was as red and mottled as the rest, the flesh of a ghoul impossible to hide or shy away from.

The eyes though.

His eyes appeared to be a hazel colour, the whites of his irises seeming even more stark due to the red skin surrounding them, but what caught your attention was how expressive they were. Sunken in their sockets, the darkness which encased them did little to hide their revelations. Even now, as he stared you down with an intensity equal to your own, you could see the appraisal of curiosity and interest which lurked behind the vague, mean-spirited amusement he fixed you with.

Taking a seat on the water canister, his gun remaining in hand as it casually hung from his fingers, he allowed you to pull the rope from your legs and right yourself until you were standing once more. His other hand remained on the opposite end of the rope, ready to lash out like a viper at a moment’s provocation.

"Water's rare round these parts.” The ghoul grumbled. “I don't want to be wasting it on needless shit. So why don't we see if we can come to some arrangement?"

The golden words.

Smirking at the potential of a deal, the fear which tickles at your chest disappears in a brief moment as you rock onto your heels and place your hands on your hips.

"I don't have anything with me today. I'll need to go and gath-"

"You've got them pretty lips." He countered, cutting off your words and widening his knees as he patted his thigh with the butt of his gun. "I'm sure you can think of something to do with them."

Shocked by the utter brazenness, your mouth drops open and you splutter out something incomprehensible as a low chuckle slips free of his twisted lips.

"Don't look so shocked. Oldest barternin' tool in the business. Ten minutes of work and you might live to see another day. Five minutes if you're a pro.” He grunts again. “Fuck, it's been so long, it might even be two. Take the chance, darling?"

"I'm not a whore." A harsh denial as heat spread across your cheeks.

You had seen them before, both the unwilling and the willing, as they walked alongside raiders and heroes alike in an effort to use their skills to ensure survival. Everyone did what they had to do and it wasn’t like you hadn’t used charm before to get what you wanted.

But still.

This was different.

In a way-

"Didn't say you were." The ghoul shrugs, interrupting your mental debate. "But a deal’s a deal. Ain't got no infection that I know of and it's the best offer you'll get out here. Closest raiders to here are the McSharkies and they’ll have you fucking their dogs for a single droplet.”

Shuddering at the thought, your lips move of their own accord.

"Okay."

Surprising yourself even as you say the word, a trickle of shame weaves itself down your spine.

You had done a hell of a lot worse for a hell of a lot less in this shithole of a world.

What was a quick blowjob in the scheme of things.

Visibly pleased at your agreement, he palms his cock through his slacks for a moment before jumping to his feet in a smooth motion which catches you off-guard.

"Turn and get those hands out behind your back."

"Why?"

"Got to tie your hands, little lady. You might be sweet, but a pretty snake is still rattlin’ full of venom. You understand me?"

Unable to argue as a sense that you might as well play his game since you had no other choice plucks at your thoughts, you nod your consent and slowly shuffle around.

Turning in place, he loops the ends of the rope around your wrists in quick movements, quietly ensuring his own safety as he pins your hands behind your back and spins you around to face him once more.

"Kneel." He commands, clicking his fingers and pointing to the ground as he commands you like a dog.

You drop to your knees before him and the harsh desert feels uncomfortable against your skin through the fabric of your jumpsuit. Even in the rapidly cooling air of the approaching evening, not a soul to be made out as far as the eye could see, heat danced along your skin as a dirty shame made your shiver and roll your shoulders.

You had seen his kind before, knew what to expect, but even prior knowledge couldn't prepare you for just how thick he was as he snatched his cock free of his slacks - the pinstripe design fluttering in the breeze as he unlatched the waistband. His cock jutted from his slacks with pride, its girth making you bite at your lower lip as you wonder how the hell you're going to fit that in your mouth.

As livid in colour as the rest of him, his cockhead was slightly darker as it flared from the end of his length, and there was a prominent vein which ran along the underside of the shaft.

Despite yourself, your mouth watered at the prospect of tasting it.

Unable to wrap either of your hands around his cock, you dip your head forward to catch the tip of his cockhead within your lips. Immediately you feel the heat of him, his textured skin feeling odd against your tongue as a slightly acrid taste floods your mouth. He's heavy and thick, even just the tip of his cock making your mouth feel full and you carefully breathe around him as your tongue presses against his shaft.

“It’s been a long time, sweetie. That or you're a born cocksucker.”

A heavy hand pressing on the back of your head draws a sharp gasp from your lips as he pushes you down further on his cock. Forced into accepting more of him, you hollow your cheeks and allow him to guide himself roughly within your mouth, every part of his mottled skin adding a new sensation to your lips as they roll across his length.

Sucking him gently, something traitorous and arousing sparks in your cunt as he unleashes a low grunt at the stimulation.

At the vicious arousal in his tone, you feel a fresh flood of lust slither across your skin even as you groan out an unspoken denial of his words around his cock. However, you attempt to free yourself of him in a moment of surprise as his fingers drop low enough to cup around your temple, essentially keeping you in place as his other hand tightens almost painfully around your hair.

He's building pace, allowing enough time for you to catch your breath as you focus on the task - your own hands remaining pinned behind your back as you bob your head messily.

"Yeah. Fuck your mouth on my cock, little miss." He grunts, hand like a vice around your head as he casually thrusts himself into your mouth with only a little mercy. "Show me how much you want it."

Keeping your eyes staunchly closed, shame and humiliation creep along your heated skin but with it comes an undeniable arousal which makes your cunt feel wet against your panties.

"None of that. Eyes open now."

Displeased with the lack of eye-contact, his cock pulls free of your mouth long enough for his hand to strike across your cheek. Not in an overly aggressive or painful manner, but enough to force your eyes open as you glare up at him.

"Ooh, feisty little mare. I like it. Makes me hard as a nail."

To emphasise his words, he drives his cock a little further back, the tip now just threatening your throat as you choke in surprise - eyes watering in an instant as you fight the urge to bite down. You watch him as he chuckles, enjoying the way your throat is spasming around you cock as he holds you there.

He lets up after a moment, resuming his more forceful pace. Wanting him to finish, you pull back enough to swirl your tongue along the sensitive ridge where his shaft meets his cockhead before swallowing him down in one quick motion.

It's enough, and the sharp, pleasurable pants which slip free of his mouth seem to increase slightly in pitch as he pulls his cock free of your mouth. Without warning, his release splashes across your mouth and chin; a few errant drops falling between your lips as he jerks his cock off to wring every last droplet out.

Pissed by the mess despite the slight ache which sits in your cunt as it feels woefully neglected, you growl at him - a scowl marring your forehead as your jaw clicks, the bone there pleased to no longer be under such stress. Left in the dirt with your hands bound and you face coated in mess, a fresh sense of heated embarrassment floods your cheeks and you cough in discomfort as he tucks his softening cock away.

You inhale sharply as you find your body being pulled away from his as his strong hands remove you from your kneeling position and place you back on your feet.

"Made a mess of you there, darling." The ghoul smirks, teeth flashing against his reddened skin. "Make sure and clean yourself up before anyone else sees you. They might get the wrong idea."

Rubbing your hands together as he releases then from their bindings, you immediately wipe off his release with the back of your hand and ignore the taste of him as the droplets in your mouth coat your tongue.

"My water?" You ask, dusting your knees off as you mentally make a note to treat your clit to some attention the minute you were back in the safety of your hideout. Attention that no doubt would feature hazel eyes and some very irritated movements as you took your frustrations out on your traitorous sex.

"Sure. Deal's a deal, little miss. Name's Cooper, by the way." He, Cooper, grunted as he slowly filled one of the spare empty bottles which littered the ground around the canister. "You can call me Cooper."

Huh.

Watching silently as he continued to live up to his end of the bargain, you tasted his name against your lips as eagerly as his cum you consider what he might give to hear you cry it out with some well-earned enthusiasm.

"Cooper."

His eyes meet you own and you can tell, in that moment, that he's imagining the very same.

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