#no one was using and killing men like her
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Taylor Swift is a Female Rage icon? Get a Grip.
I’ve just received word that Taylor Swift is calling her show “Female Rage: The Musical.” Here is my very much pissed off response to that nonsense:
The phrase, Female Rage has an intimately rich history:
Some of the first accounts of female rage dates to the Italian renaissance. To be clear, women in those days were not allowed to become painters- the arts were seen as the domain of men. They did not believe that women have rich inner lives capable of delivering the type of artistic innovation with which renaissance men were obsessed.
However, rebels abounded, through the might of their fucking rage. Several women created some of the most compellingly emotional paintings I’ve ever fucking seen. They did it without permission, without financial support, and often under the threat of punishment. They did it as a protest. In paintings like “Timoclea Killing Her Rapist” by Elisabetta Sirani (1659), and then by Artemisia Gentileschi “Slaying of Holofernes” (1612) as it depicts the bravery of Judith as she slayed a traveling warlord out to rape Judith and enslave her city. The painting often is referred to as a way Artemisia herself was envisioning herself as slaying her rapist. These paintings were used against these women as proof that they were unfeminine- and far too angry. Both these women suffered immensely for their audacity to call attention to the violation men perpetrated on them. Female Rage bleeds off these paintings- bleeds right through to the bone-deep acknowledgement of the injustice women faced being barred from the arts and having their humanity violated in such a sick way. Both women were hated- and considered far too angry.
In philosophy, also as early as the 15th century, an example of female rage is a philosophical text, often hailed as one of the first feminists works in the western world, written by Christine de Pizan titled The City of Ladies (1405). She wrote in protest on the state of women- writing that “men who have slandered the opposite sex out of envy have usually know women who were cleverer and more virtuous than they are” (“The City of Ladies”). People mocked her all her life- but she stood fast to her convictions. She was widowed at a young age with children to feed and the men wouldn’t let women have jobs! She wrote this book and sold it so that she could feed her family- and to protest the treatment of women as lesser than men. Her work was called aggressive and unkempt- they said she was far too angry.
In the 18th century, a young Mary Wollstonecraft wrote, A Vindication of the Right of Women ( 1792) upon learning that the civil rights won in the French Revolution did not extend to women! She wrote in protest of the unjust ways other philosophers (like Rousseau) spoke about the state of women- as if they were lesser. She wrote to advocate for women’s right to education, which they did not yet have the right to! She wrote to advocate for the advancement of women’s ability to have their own property and their own lives! The reception of this text, by the general public, lead to a campaign against Wollstonecraft- calling her “aggressive” and far too angry.
Moving into modernity, the 1960’s, and into literary examples, Maya Angelou publishes I know why the caged Bird Sings (1969) in which she discusses the fraught youth of a girl unprotected in the world. It beautifully, and heart-wrenchingly, described growing up in the American South during the 1930’s as it subjected her to the intersection of racism and sexism. The story is an autobiographical account of her own childhood, which explains how patriarchal social standards nearly destroyed her life. Upon the reception of her book, men mostly called it “overly emotional” and far too angry. Maya Angelou persisted. She did not back down from the honesty with which she shared her life- the raw, painful truth. With Literature, she regained a voice in the world.
Interwoven into each of the examples I have pulled out here, is the underlying rage of women who want to be seen as human beings, with souls, dreams and hopes, yet are not seen as full members of society at the behest of men. They take all that rage, building up in their souls, and shift it to create something beautiful: positive change. Each of these cases, I have outlined above, made remarkable strides for the women as a whole- we still feel the impact of their work today. They were so god-damn passionate, so full of righteous anger, it burst out into heart-stopping, culture-shifting art. Feminine rage is therefore grounded in experiences of injustice and abuse- yet marked too by its ability to advocate for women's rights. It cannot be historically transmogrified away from these issues- though Taylor Swift is doing her best to assert female rage as pitifully dull, full of self-deprecation, and sadness over simply being single or losing money. She trivializes the seriousness with which women have pled their cases of real, painful injustice and suffering to the masses time and time again. The examples above deal with subjects of rape, governmental tyranny, and issues of patriarchally inspired social conditioning to accept women as less human than men. It is a deadly serious topic, one in which women have raised their goddamn voices for centuries to decry- and say instead, “I am human, I matter, and men have no right to violate my mind, body, or soul.”
The depictions of female rage over the last few centuries, crossing through many cultures, is an array of outright anger, fearsome rage, and into utter despair. The one unyielding, solid underpinning, however, is that the texts are depicting the complete agency of the women in question. The one uniting aspect of female rage is that it must be a reaction to injustice; instead of how male depictions of female rage function, (think Ophelia), the women are the agents of their art with female made- female rage. They push forth the meaning through their own will- not as subjects of male desires or abuses, but as their own selves. That is what makes the phrase so empowering. They are showing their souls as a form of protest to the men who treat women like we have no soul to speak of.
Taylor Swift’s so-called female rage is a farce in comparison. Let’s look at an example: “Mad Woman” (2020). I pull this example, and not something from her TTPD set, because this is one of the earliest examples of her using the phrase female rage to describe her dumb music. (Taylor Swift talking about "mad woman" | folklore : the long pond studio sessions (youtube.com)
The lyrics from “Mad Woman” read “Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy/... And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry”
How exactly is agreeing with someone that you are “crazy” a type of female rage in which she’s protesting the patriarchy. The patriarchy has a long history of calling women “insane” if they do not behave according to the will of men. So, how is her agreeing with the people calling her crazy- at all subversive in the way that artworks, typically associated with concept of female rage, are subversive. What is she protesting? NOTHING.
Then later, she agrees, again, that she's “angry.” The issue I draw here is that she’s not actually explicating anything within the music itself that she’s angry about- she just keeps saying she's angry over and over, thus the line falls flat. The only thing this anger connects to is the idea of someone calling her angry- which then makes her agree that she is... angry. So, despite it being convoluted, it’s also just not actually making any kind of identifiable point about society or the patriarchy- so again, I beg, what on Earth makes this count as Female Rage?
In essence, she is doing the opposite of what the examples above showcase. In letting an outside, presumably male, figure tell Taylor Swift what she is feeling, and her explicit acceptance of feeling “crazy” and “angry,” she is ultimately corroborating the patriarchy not protesting it. Her center of agency comes from assignment of feelings outside of herself and her intrinsic agreement with that assignment; whereas female rage is truly contingent on the internal state, required as within our own selves, of female agency. As I stated above, the women making female rage art must have an explicit agency throughout the work. Taylor Swift’s song simply does not measure up to this standard.
Her finishing remarks corroborates the fact that she's agreeing with this patriarchal standard of a "mad" or crazy woman:
"No one likes a mad woman/ You made her like that"
Again, this line outsources agency through saying "you made her like that" thus removing any possibility of this song being legitimate female rage. There is simply no agency assigned to the woman in the song- nor does the song ever explicitly comment on a social issue or protestation of some grievous injury to women's personhood.
She honestly not even being clever- she's just rhyming the word “crazy” with “crazy.” Then later rhyming “angry” with “angry.” Groundbreaking stuff here.
Perhaps Taylor Swift is angry, in “Mad Woman,” but it is not the same type of rage established in the philosophical concept of female rage of which art historians, philosophers, and literary critics speak. Instead, it is the rage of a businesswoman that got a bad deal- but it is not Female Rage as scholars would identify it. In “Mad Woman” I fear her anger is shallow, and only centered on material loss- through damaging business deals or bad business partners. She is not, however, discussing what someone like Christine de Pizan was discussing by making a case for the concept that woman also have souls like men do. In her book, she had to argue that women have souls, because men were unconvinced of that. Do you see the difference? I am saying that Swift’s concerns are purely monetary and material, whereas true examples of female rage center on injustice done against their personhood- as affront to human rights. Clearly, both things can make someone mad- but I’d argue the violation of human rights is more serious- thus more deserving of the title “Female Rage.”
Simply put, Taylor Swift is not talking about anything serious, or specific, enough to launch her into the halls of fame for "Female Rage" art. She's mad, sure, but she's mad the way a CEO gets mad about losing a million dollars. She's not mad about women's position in society- or even just in the music industry.
She does this a lot. The album of “Reputation” was described as female rage. Songs in “Folklore” were described as female rage. Now, she’s using the term to describe TTPD, which is the most self-centered, ego-driven music I’ve heard in a long time.
Comparing the injustice, and complete subjugation, of women’s lives- to being dumped by a man or getting a bad deal- wherein she is still one of the most powerful women of the planet- is not only laughable, but offensive.
#anti taylor swift#taylor swift critical#ex swiftie#mad woman#folklore#maya angelou#christine de pizan#artemisia gentileschi#mary wollstonecraft#Elisabetta Sirani#art history#books and literature#feminist#feminism#female rage#taylor swift#activism#toxic swifties#toxic taylor swift#philosophy#fuck Rousseau
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Petals of Affection - Part I
A floral mystery in three parts featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader
Summary: A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time.
Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge. Please check out all the wonderful works created in Jett's honor!
I know enough about flowers to fill a thimble. Really, all I know is how to kill them, accidentally or otherwise. Everything to do with the flowers in this story is courtesy of Google, so please suspend disbelief at how some of these could exist in Wyoming, yada yada. I just picked ones that fit the narrative.
Word count: 4,284
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, humor, cursing, gratuitous use of poor floral descriptions, scheming, clueless reader, fluff, eventual smut, alcohol, food, coffee, terms of endearment. POV flops around like a fish outta water. Reader has no physical description aside from having hair that gets frizzy with humidity and often dirt-covered hands, because greenhouses, ya know? No use of y/n, none whatsoever.
Dividers courtesy of the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Gif chosen because of the wonderful floral wallpaper ;)
Hope you enjoy!
Part II | Part III | Masterlist
An oasis in a world rife with death and devastation, you clung to the life the reinforced walls of Jackson offered. After years of struggling to survive each new day, you felt like you could finally take a deep breath. Everyone was no nice and welcoming, some more than others, and you slipped right into the fabric of the small community.
Within a month of your arrival, Maria assigned you to the greenhouses, having picked up on your knowledge and love of plants – particularly flowers. You must have bored her to death one too many times regaling the language of flowers over a bottle or two of aged wine while seated together on her couch. The two of you became fast friends, the kind that felt like you’ve known each other forever. It was exactly what you needed, longed for even, after long bouts of solitude.
Being close to Maria meant you visited their house often. And equally often, you would find Joel Miller there, deep in conversation with his brother about one matter or another. His eyes always flashed when you entered the house, and he’d stop mid-sentence to greet you with an effortless, “Howdy darlin’” as you followed Maria to the kitchen.
Soon enough, the soft greetings turned into more substantial conversation as the four of you dined together or gathered at Maria and Tommy’s for game night, playing whatever new board game the men found while on patrol. Laughter and friendly arguments filled the air on those nights, making it easier than ever to forget about the carnage and desolation beyond the walls.
Tonight, the four of you played Scrabble – it took Tommy finding three sets of the game to get all the letter tiles required to actually play – and your belly hurt from how hard you laughed whenever Maria challenged Joel on a word. He was better at the game than you would have thought – his reserved nature and southern twang not giving away how well-read he was.
“Denied! Fartlek is not a word, Joel. There’s no way!” Maria insisted, not willing to give into Joel’s apparent triple word score on the word that would have him take the lead in total score.
“Is to a word,” Joel returned stubbornly, refusing to remove the letters from the board. “Look it up if ya don’t believe me. It’s in the fuckin’ Oxford dictionary.”
“Oh, it is, is it? Is it in the Cambridge one, too? What does it mean then?” Maria wasn’t backing down, ripping a battered dictionary right out of Tommy’s hands to see for herself.
“Hey! I was looking it up,” Tommy yelped, shooting a wink at you as you both watched the drama unfold.
Ignoring his brother, Joel rattled off something about the word being related to running. At least, that’s what you thought he said, you were too busy fighting back tears from laughing too hard. Sure enough, he was right.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Maria grumbled, flopping back into the couch cushions. “It’s a training technique for running. Screw you, Miller.”
Unsurprisingly, the game ended shortly thereafter with Joel the victor by a healthy margin. After helping to clean up, you offered appreciation and hugs to Maria and Tommy for a delightful evening. “Next time, let’s play something less…”
“Cerebral?” Maria supplied with a frown.
“Annoying?” Tommy interjected with a grin.
Joel stayed quiet, a half-smile gracing his lips as he waited for you to finish your sentence.
“Just something that doesn’t require a dictionary or cause so much arguing,” you laughed. Waving between Joel and Maria, you added, “You two can never agree on anything! See you all tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk you home, darlin’,” Joel said, rushing to put his jacket and boots on and catch up with you. When you opened your mouth to let him know you’d be fine on your own, he added, “Gotta check in on Ellie anyway.”
Maria and Tommy shared a look as Joel opened the door to usher you through. You caught them and frowned, feeling like you weren’t in on a joke or something.
The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the last remnants of winter’s snowy wrath crunching beneath your boots the only sound. You looked up at the night sky as you walked, gasping at the flash of colors in the otherwise darkened sky. Joel stopped, following your gaze upwards as you both stood mouths agape.
“That’s the northern lights, right? I’ve never seen it before.”
“Mmhmm. Aurora borealis. Pretty amazin’.”
“Beautiful,” you sighed, breath a cloud billowing in the crisp air, eyes soaking in every bit of the cosmic phenomenon.
You didn’t realize it staring up at the sky as you were, but Joel’s umber eyes were fixed on you when he replied, “Sure is.”
You stayed like, shoulders gently bumping as you both enjoyed nature’s show, until the temperature dropped further and you shivered. An awed smile remained plastered on your face the rest of the walk to your house, one Joel would never forget.
The dichotomy of the humid, warm air within the greenhouses and the chilled breeze outside confused your body, but you loved it. Sure, the humidity did nothing good for your hair, leaving it a frizzy mass around your head sometimes, but the dewy feeling on your skin always reminded you of childhood summers spent at the beach.
Tending to the various fruit and vegetable plants all morning, in what you deemed Greenhouse 1, you saved your favorite duties – the ones associated with flowers – for the afternoon. While you enjoyed caring for all the plants, you loved tending to the flowers, humming as you pruned and replanted clippings, expanding your every growing collection. If the patrol teams kept bringing you seeds and specimen back, you’d need yet another greenhouse. The council would just love that.
The creak of the door to Greenhouse Two drew your attention shortly after you switched gears and you stood, brushing the dirt from your jeans before glancing up. Your face shifted into a soft smile at the sight of Joel standing hesitantly just inside the door.
“Hey Joel, what did you bring me today?” You knew he had patrol duty and likely found some interesting plant during his travels. “Better not be western baneberry again. You know how poisonous those berries are!”
Stepping forward, Joel chuckled as you teased him. “I know now! It was one time and you’ll never let me live it down, will ya?” Thrusting his hand toward you, he dropped a small pile of seeds onto your dirt-covered palm. “Not sure what these are, but we found down by the ol’ mill. Might be something cool.”
“Might be,” you hummed, poking the seeds a little. Hopefully the cold didn’t get to them. You grabbed the nearest pot, quickly filled it with soil and sprinkled the seeds in as you tilled the top few inches. “We’ll find out soon enough what kind of treasure these are.”
Leaning back against a messy tabletop, hands on hips, Joel watched you tend to the new addition before finding the perfect place for the pot, nestled on a table amongst other seedlings. “Do you –”
Joel’s mouth snapped shut as the greenhouse door banged open next to him, a boisterous voice carrying into the warm space before its body did.
“Tangerine! Check out what I found today,” Alex, another member of the patrol team, called as he strolled right past Joel without acknowledgement. Younger and not as broad as Joel, the man held a growing affection for you, which irked the older man.
“Alex,” you sighed playfully. He was cute in a youthful, untrained puppy kind of way and had an annoying habit of calling you nicknames that made no sense. “I told you to stop calling me that. We don’t even have tangerines here.”
Snickering under his breath, Joel observed the younger man falling all over himself to impress you. Why you indulged the idiot, he would never understand.
Alex waved you off. “You love it, and you know it. Lookit here,” he said, thrusting his hand toward you. Slight though he was, Alex had large hands, and in his right one were three clusters of small, bell-shaped blooms with a purple hue.
“Prairie bluebell! Where did you find these?” Your face lit up as you took the blooms in a gentle grasp, admiring them for a moment before setting to work on replanting.
Alex prattled on boastfully about finding them just off a rocky path down near the river while Joel focused on watching you work. When Alex finally paused for breath, you chimed in with some flower lore.
“Did you know that bluebells are often called fairy flowers? It is said that the bluebells are rung to summon fairies to a meeting. But, since fairies aren’t always good, the flowers could be enchanted leaving anyone who wanders into a ring of bluebells lost in fairy woods.”
Joel snorted at the idea of Alex becoming lost in fairy woods, never to be found again. If only they could be so lucky, he thought. He knew there was more you could share about the symbolism of the delicate flowers, but it would be lost on someone like Alex.
Rolling his eyes, Joel was about to take his leave when Alex blurted, “Would you join me for dinner tonight? I heard they just got in some fresh venison.”
Absorbed in your work, you hardly heard him, and Alex repeated himself, a hint of annoyance in his tone. Joel froze, holding his breath in anticipation of your answer. Please say no, he thought. You could do so much better than this moron.
Brow furrowed, you stared at Alex, considering your response. “Like a date?”
The younger man nodded eagerly, a broad smile spreading across his lips. You glanced at Joel, not certain what you were hoping to see, and found him staring back, stone faced, arms crossed in front of his chest tightly. Giving you nothing to work with, your shoulders slumped, resigned. “Sure, I guess.”
Not the most enthusiastic answer, but you couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date and Alex was the only one asking.
You didn’t even realize Joel moved until the door closed heavily behind his retreating form.
The breeze carried a sense of change as you strolled home from your shift in the greenhouse. The weather was finally warming, ever so slightly, as Mother Nature loosened her grip on winter, letting spring slowly creep in.
Mixed emotions tumbled through your mind as your feet carried you through the streets of Jackson by muscle memory alone. Alex asking you to dinner caught you off guard – you had a feeling he was interested, but he never made any sort of bold move. The fact he finally did while Joel was standing right there threw you off balance.
Did you even like this guy?
Sure, Alex was attractive, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin. But his personality made him seem more like a golden retriever, goofy and too eager to impress, than someone you could fall for. It made you wonder if there was any substance lurking under the surface.
In the absence of any other offers, did it even matter?
No, you guessed it really didn’t.
These thoughts carried you right to your front steps and you stopped, taken by the presence of something unusual waiting in front of your door.
A solitary stalk with a gorgeous jasmine bloom, a slip of paper wrapped around the stem held in place by nondescript string.
Picking it up, you held the flower to your nose, breathing in the rich, sensual aroma. The scent brightened your mood, and you slipped the scrap of paper from beneath the string. You whispered the words printed in a block scrawl you didn’t recognize.
Joyful moments shared; the answer lies in the air.
What did it mean?
Glancing around, you searched the street and neighboring homes for a sign of who might have left the flower and note for you. The only people in sight were your elderly neighbors, married couples, and the kids from a few houses down. None of them would have left you such a gift.
Who in the world left this for you?
Would Alex do something romantic like this? You doubted it, but what else did you have to go on?
Once inside, you trimmed the stem and put the flower in a container on the counter, placing the scrap of paper in front of it.
You gazed at the flower, mulling over the riddle before you. The note indicated that you’ve shared moments with whomever left the flower. Jasmine itself symbolized love and romance. You made friends with a lot of people since you came to town – too many shared experiences and moments to choose from.
Twenty minutes and too much thinking in circles, you were no closer to understanding the clues and teetering on the verge of being late for your date. You needed more data before hazarding any reasonable guesses.
“Why do you torture yourself like this?” Tommy questioned. Sitting at the bar watching his brother pining over you was not his idea of a fun Friday night. “You should just bite the bullet and ask her out already.”
Joel shook his head. He had no explanation for why he hadn’t made a move yet. For months now, he knew he liked you as more than friends, pined over you in silence, yet he never took the next step. Joel Miller was not a coward, but his fear of losing one of the few friends he had left in the world had him frozen in place, afraid to make any moves. He couldn’t take that chance. Finally putting words to the feelings roiling inside him, he told his brother as much.
“I get it, brother. I do,” Tommy replied, thumping Joel on the back in commiseration. “But can you really say you’re ok watchin’ her go on dates with asshats like Alex? ‘Cause that’s gonna keep happenin’ unless you do something about it. And I don’t mean killin’ the dude.”
Joel shook his head. Hunched over the bar, shooting surreptitious glances your way, he had to admit Tommy was right. He could think of few things worse than watching you go on a date with someone other than him, especially with dipshits like that guy.
“I ain’t killin’ anyone, but I do have a plan. Already put it in motion, in fact.” Picking at a scratch in the bar, Joel shifted his gaze from you to Tommy. “I might need your help with some of it. Maria’s too.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me all about this grand plan then.”
Unsurprisingly, the date was a dud.
Alex had the personality of a goldfish rather than a golden retriever, and the two of you had nothing in common. He also interrupted you mid-sentence no less than three times – once could be considered a mistake, but three times was an unforgiveable offense as far as you were concerned. You stopped making an effort about halfway through dinner and wished for a hole to open up beneath your seat and swallow you whole.
Worst of all, he acted like an entitled dickhead when you refused dessert, thanked him for the date, and let him know there wouldn’t be a second one. He’s lucky you didn’t knee him in the nuts before walking away from the table.
How unfortunate that dating sucked nearly as much now as it did before the fucking apocalypse. It was unfair, really. At what point did being a woman stop sucking?
Lamenting your lack of success in the relationship department, you trudged home. You wondered what Joel was up to – you caught a glimpse of him at the bar with Tommy earlier and he didn’t look happy, but you didn’t see him when you left. Part of you longed to visit him, maybe have a drink and sit on his porch gazing at the stars together like you’ve done before. But it was already late, and you didn’t want to bother him. Hell, he could have a woman over already, which would be mortifying if you interrupted. The thought sank unpleasantly in your mind until you got to your house and pushed it away.
A little gift waited for you on the porch, just like earlier. An orchid this time. Symbol of love, thoughtfulness, and charm. Your index finger traced the delicate petals with the gentlest touch as a smile slowly crept its way across your lips.
Another note was attached, and you plucked it from beneath the same kind of string, eyes devouring the words.
Overwhelmed by your grace, the answer hides in this place.
The flower wasn’t completely cold, so it had to have been left recently. Brow furrowed; you glanced around but there was no one in sight. You wracked your brain trying to figure out the identity of your secret admirer, but you were at a loss. Prior to dinner, you briefly thought Alex was the culprit, but now it was obvious he didn’t have a romantic bone in his lanky body.
You heart knew who it longed for it to be, but you refused to consider it. He didn’t want you that way, of that you were certain.
Giving the orchid the same treatment as the jasmine earlier, you tucked the stem into the same container and placed it on the coffee table so you could admire the blossoms while you fell asleep on the couch. After all, why bother with a big bed without someone to share it with?
Saturdays were your day off, but the sun shining through the curtains you forgot to close the night before ruined your plans of sleeping in. Grumbling at the unnecessary brightness, you stumbled into the kitchen desperate for coffee. The coffee tin felt light in your hand when you reached for it and, sure enough, you saw nothing but a tiny amount of powdery remains of coffee beans at the bottom.
God dammit. Barely eight o’clock in the morning and this day already had two strikes against it. It wasn’t looking good so far.
Not caring that you still wore the clothes from your date the night before, you quickly brushed your teeth and finger-combed your hair into submission before leaving the house. Pausing at the door for a moment, you debated whose house to go to. Joel always had coffee – it was his drug of choice – but Maria and Tommy were closer.
Not awake enough for decision-making, you let your feet carry you in whichever direction they wanted… which was exactly three feet onto the porch before they stopped. Another flower with a note sat waiting for you.
Your mood brightened considerably at the sight of the double-flowered, funnel-shaped Eustoma, petals a pale purple. The rose-like flowers weren’t native to Wyoming, but you got lucky months ago when someone found a seed packet. You were shocked the seeds were still viable. Did someone pluck it from the greenhouse? You gave away a few cuttings not that long ago, but unless they were replanted, there’s no way they’d last this long. It had to be from the greenhouse. Where the hell else would they get one?
The addiction-like need for coffee temporarily forgotten, you rubbed the Eustoma gently against your nose, confirming the lack of scent when you breathed in and wondered what the little note would say this time.
Endless thoughts of you, the answer is in the view.
Stepping back into the house, you added the flower with the others, mulling over the symbolism of the Eustoma. Whoever left it must be trying to tell you that they appreciate and admire you. But when you add it with the others, what did it all mean?
As good as you were with flowers, you were awful at solving mysteries. A detective you were not. Besides, it was still too early for this kind of puzzle.
The desire for coffee returned and you left the flower quandary behind as you made your way to Joel’s.
Joel didn’t expect to see you today, his day looking up when he opened the door to find you on his doorstep. His heart immediately sank when he noticed you wearing the same clothes from the night before, hair mussed.
“Your date must have gone well,” he said, eyes roving over your clothing, knowing his tone was less friendly than you were used to from him. “What are you doin’ here this early?”
You were clearly thrown off kilter by his remark, frowning as he stepped back to let you in.
“Wha—” you started to question him but shook your head. “I just came to see if you had any spare coffee. I ran out without realizing it.”
“Didn’t have any to offer Alex this morning? That’s a damn shame.” Joel felt the heat of your confused gaze on his back as you followed him into the kitchen.
“What are you talking about?” You sighed, staring at him with furrowed brows.
Avoiding your searching gaze, Joel poured a cup of coffee, adding the perfect amount of sugar you liked, and glowered at the cup as he handed it over. “You’re wearing the same clothes as last night. I assume you did the walk of shame this morning only to find you didn’t have any coffee.”
“It’s too early for your judgmental shit, Joel. You can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?” You turned to leave, mind trying to wrap itself around why this day was turning out so oddly. Mercury was in retrograde again, it had to be. You and Joel never spoke to each other like this. As you reached the door, not caring that you basically stole his coffee cup, you called over your shoulder, “And the date wasn’t even like that, for the record.”
“You’re welcome for the coffee,” Joel muttered as you let yourself out of his house.
“You didn’t have to be such a dick, you know.” Ellie appeared around the corner; arms crossed over her chest.
“I know. I couldn’t help it. The thought of her with that jackass just…” he sighed. “I got a little carried away, but it’s fine. The plan is still in play. Did you take care of what I asked you to?”
“You come up with some strange plans, old man. Yeah, I got it done.”
Fed up with the day and everyone in town before noon, you hid away in your house for the rest of the day. The interaction with Joel weighed on you the entire afternoon and well into the night. What was up with him? Were you being too sensitive, taking his comments personally?
If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was jealous you went on a date with Alex.
Unsurprisingly, you slept poorly and woke up groggy and unfocused Sunday morning. It was going to be a long day in the greenhouse if you didn’t find some coffee to power you up. Getting ready earlier than normal, you planned to stop at Maria and Tommy’s to see if they had coffee – there was no way you were going back to Joel’s after yesterday.
Opening the door to another brisk, early spring morning, the glint of sunlight on the porch drew your eyes to yet another flower waiting for you. Four in a row now, how long would this carry on for?
One of your favorites, you picked up the stalk with six lavender blossoms, violet in hue, and breathed in the fresh, light scent, savoring the sweet undertones. Fingers caressed the downy leaves, making you feel calmer, mellower, which was exactly what you needed.
You kept sniffing the floral scent as you read the accompanying note, finding it fitting.
Lost in your scent, the answer is present.
“Tell me you have a secret admirer!”
Startled, you gasped, gaze shooting to Maria as she approached your house, two mugs of coffee in hand. You face shifted into a smile at the sight.
“I’m… um, I guess. I’m not sure?” You shrugged accepting the mug Maria held out toward you. “Thanks for this, I ran out.”
“I heard,” she replied. “Joel’s on the hunt for more, don’t worry.”
“Of course he is,” you rolled your eyes.
“Soooo…” Maria gestured to the flowers and note in your hand, seeking an explanation. “I feel like there’s a story here.”
“There is, I just don’t know what it is yet,” you admitted. Inhaling the calming scent of the lavender once again, you added, “This is the fourth one I’ve received. Each one has its own riddle. Let me show you.”
Leading the way into your house – you still had an hour before your shift started – you showed Maria the flowers and each note that accompanied them. In small print, you added what each flower symbolized to the corresponding note and numbered them in the order you received them, hoping every little detail would help you sort out the puzzle.
Maria looked over everything, smiling softly at each note. “Whoever this mystery man is, he’s quite romantic.”
“Right?”
“What do today’s flowers mean?”
“In the context of the rest of the flowers so far, love and devotion,” you replied, heat warming your cheeks.
Maria whistled softly. “Someone is down bad for you, girl. Any ideas who it could be?”
Shrugging defeatedly, you admitted, “Not a clue. The one person I’d want it to be would never do something like this.”
Maria hid a smile behind her mug as she sipped her coffee. “How can you be sure?”
tbc
#jettsflora&faunachallenge#writing challenge#joel miller#joel miller x reader#the last of us#joel x female reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#pedrostories
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i was talking about feminism and politics with one of my friends and she said she didn't like using basic class analysis terms like "oppressor class" and "oppressed class" when discussing women's rights because she felt like reality was more complicated than that, since some men were clearly "more feminist" than some women. as an example, she used some random guy on tik tok that i don't know because i hate tik tok and who sometimes makes videos about women's rights, calling out domestic violence, sexual violence, beauty culture, etc... and told me "look at this bloke and then think about all these tradwives who believe women belong in the kitchen, are naturally less smart than men and exist only to serve them and give birth to their kids. the first clearly does more for women's rights than the second. that's the proof that the "oppressor and oppressed class thing doesn't work". and as i replied to her, ok, this guy seems less misogynistic than her, but if women's rights decrease, if the patriarchy gets worse, who will suffer from it ? him or the right wing woman ? who's at risk to get raped ? who faces way bigger risks of being a victim of domestic violence ? who's at risk of getting kidnapped and sold like an object by sex trafficking ? if these two people both lived in, say, Iran, who would be forced to wead a hijab, who would be at risk of getting killed for not wearing it ? which one of these people would be banned from going to school and university in some countries ? if the two of them lived in a country where fgm is a thing, which one of them would be a victim of it ? which one of them probably gets paid less than their male coworkers ? who suffers from the existence of porn, prostitution, beauty culture, religion, surrogacy, the sex industry, the beauty industry ? and i could go on forever... no matter how misogynistic a woman is, and no matter how supportive of feminism a man seems, at the end of the day, the woman is still the one who's oppressed by the patriarchy, and the man still is privileged under it. that's why the "oppressor and oppressed class mindset" works. (she replied "yeah...maybe...i don't know")
#radblr#radical feminism#radfem safe#radfem#radical feminist safe#radical feminists please touch#radical feminists do touch#rad fem#radical feminist#radical feminists do interact#feminism#feminist#women's rights#women's rights are human rights
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"At some point before 1825, Tarenorerer was one of the many women kidnapped and enslaved by sealers. She was held against her will for years, though exactly how long is unknown. During this time, she learned English and how to use a gun.
While she was enslaved, colonists came to the island to live and cleared land for their sheep to graze on. This quickly brought them into conflict with the clans that had occupied the land for generations. European observers later documented that colonists “would shoot Aborigines whenever they found them,” leaving the clans no option but to defend their homes with violence. Individual skirmishes escalated into the Black War by the mid-1820s.
Sometime in 1828, Tarenorerer escaped her enslavers. She became the leader of the Plairhekehillerplue, a clan that lived around Emu Bay, southeast of Table Cape. Her position with the Plairhekehillerplue may be where the confusion around her birth clan comes from. Many clans had been decimated by colonial violence by the early 1800s, so the Plairhekehillerplue was likely a collection of people from many different clans.
Tarenorerer immediately began teaching clan members to use firearms to defend themselves from the colonists and to kill the colonists’ sheep and steers. She carefully instructed them to strike the colonial soldiers “when they were at their most vulnerable, between the time that their guns discharged and before they were able to reload.” During skirmishes with European shepherds, she would “stand on a hill and give orders to her men to attack the stockmen, taunting them to come out of their huts and be speared.”
#Tarenorerer#history#women in history#warrior women#women warriors#anti colonialism#tasmania#indigenous people#19th century#women's history#historyblr#historical figures#australia
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It's a Pirate's Life For Me (Bucky x Reader)
Pairing: Pirate!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader (Fem)
Characters: Bucky, Steve, various other characters
Summery: Bucky is infatuated with a mermaid he seen years prior.
Not sure how long this will be it's for Mermay.
No use of YN
Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Implied/referenced SA, Pirates, vulgarity, swearing, fighting, death, violence, blood.
Word Court: 6134
Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️
Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3
The sea was calm, the full moon casting an ethereal light across the water. The North Star high in the sky, a guiding point for the young boy waiting for his father to come home, because no matter how far apart they might be, they could always see the North Star.
Mother had always said that a calm sea meant trouble was afoot, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe her, how could something so calm and vast be troublesome. The depths unknown as he peered down at it from the safety of the dock. Then he saw it, a fin, colourful but gone as soon as he saw it. He blinked rapidly and quickly ran to look for whatever fish he saw swimming around the dock but he couldn’t find it again.
The sound of a horn caught his attention as his fathers ship sailed into the alcove from the vast open sea. He jumped excitedly as his fathers ship steered in and docked a short while later. The sea was no longer calm as waves and ripples spread across the once still surface.
His father descended the plank that was placed down quickly, the boy jumped and danced around his father who looked like he was thousands leagues away.
“Hush boy, go to your mother. I’ll be in later,” his father dismissed him quickly, taking a sharp right to the beach and to the other side of the ship. The boy, curious, quietly followed and hid in the shadows. He saw a body hit the water with a splash, and then it was dragged ashore, wrapped in a trap and was dragged to the forest that surrounded the cove they called home. He quickly followed behind the group of men, staying hidden and out of the way.
“What do we do with her Captain?” He peered out from a bush and saw what was wrapped in the trap. A large colourful fin laid in a small pool of water, with the torso of a woman draped over a rock as moon light filtered through an opening and cast an eerie glow around her. She was breathing heavily, and silvery blood glowed in the moon light from a fatal looking wound on her side, the flesh hanging from her.
“Kill her, but take the scales. They’re worth more than gold,” the boy heard his father say and he gasped loudly at the harshness of his fathers words. Heads whipped toward him but he darted back toward the beach and home. He wasn’t caught, but his heart was pounding as he climbed into bed.
~Two Days Later~
Curiosity got the better of him, as he found himself back in the clearing he had witnessed his father condemn the creature to death. He wanted to see if the corpse was there, maybe find one of the scales. But what he found instead was the creature barely clinging onto life with more than half her scales missing and she gasped and croaked under the moonlight.
He approached cautiously and crept around her body, and observed her. She had a green blue tail, with smaller fins coming off it, she almost looked like a jellyfish with all her little tendrils. He was enraptured by her very existence, her hair was blonde, bone dry and caked with mud, she was facing away from him but he couldn’t help but picture what her face would look like. The sound of a snapping twig that he accidentally stepped on gave him away and her head instantly snapped in his direction.
He yelped in surprise as her large eyes glared at him, he took a tentative step toward to get a closer look at her, that’s when she snarled and her once human looking hand morphed to claws and she swiped at him harshly, dragging the claws down his arm and ripping the flesh easily. He screamed in agony and she dropped back onto the rock and cried, silvery tears leaked from her eyes onto the rock, the sound of a gun shot rang through the night and she was gone.
He unconsciously traced along the scars from her claws and shivered at the thought of the creature. That night he found out his father was a pirate, not a privateer with the navy like he had been told. He learned from him over the next decade, learned how to be a pirate, run a ship, get gold and riches. But he could never get the look on that creature's face out of his mind. She was terrified, alone and scared, his father killed her for what she did to his arm.
He was home now, a short stop in the alcove he loved more than anything, visiting his mother after spending months at sea with his father learning the ropes.
The sea was calm tonight, calm sea means trouble's afoot he never forgot his mothers words after all these years later. After spending nights at sea, it was rarely calm and it put him on a slight edge. The water surface broke suddenly but whatever did it was nowhere to be seen, he squinted as he tried to track how the water moved and where the ripples were freshly coming from.
He took off running toward a small lagoon that was attached to the open ocean that he would explore when he was young. Once he broke through the clearing he was greeted with a sight he couldn’t ever forget. Long hair cascading down her back and beautifully long tail and fins that glistened under the moonlight.
The scars on his arm tingled as he watched her. He took a few steps toward the water's edge and it lapped at his leather boots softly. Her head turned suddenly and she gasped, jumping back into the water out of view.
“Wait,” his voice died in his throat as he searched for her. Then he saw her eyes, peering at him over the rock she had been previously sitting in. She looked terrified of him. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching his arms out in a show of affection, he wanted to be unthreatening and make her come out from hiding.
He watched her squint, scrutinising him from behind the rock. Her eyes shining under the moon, almost glowing. He should hate these creatures, he had seen what happened when they got their claws into the minds of men, dragging his fellows to their watery graves to devour their hearts. But here he was trying to coax one out of hiding.
He wasn’t surprised by her wariness, man and merfolk have never gotten along. So she probably just assumed he wanted to coax her into the shallows and then drag her on land and kill her once he had stripped her of her scales.
He watched her hand move as she skirted around the rock she hid behind, he could see her own curiosity swirling in her eyes. She skimmed around and barely lifted her body from the water, just her eyes and forehead showing as she came around the rock.
“Men,” their words felt odd on your tongue, “men lie,” you stuttered out. You watched his eyes widen at your broken English, humans knew little of your people. They were excellent linguists, and navigators, with beauty beyond comparison. You moved slowly, closer to him, not going as far as the sandy shallow, but close enough you would be able to fully scrutinise his form. He was tall, broad and strong, his hair chin length and his eyes were a piercing blue that cut through the night like a dagger.
You flicked your tail, the water splashed and rained down in the moonlight, you watched him curiously. He watched you back, bewildered or bewitched. Which you couldn’t really tell. Your mind screamed to either start the siren song and drag this man to the depths and devour his heart or get the hell out of there. But you wanted to stay and learn about this man.
“We do,” he said softly, his white shirt shifting in the soft breeze, the ties loose showing up tanned skin and defined muscle. He was definitely a pirate, no privateer looked like that. “I assure you though, I mean no harm,” he finished.
You squinted again, unsure. Not daring to come closer, you lifted out of the water further, your neck becoming exposed, the small frilly gills there shifted and closed so you could breathe air through your mouth. He watched in complete awe as your gills disappeared. “Why?” You asked, your throat felt dry, like you had sand trapped in it.
“Because, you’re beautiful,” he said simply. He reached again and you shy back, pressing to the rock again. He would be easy to get to do as you pleased, with how careless he was being. There was a reason men despised your species, all you had to do was sing and his blood would sing the siren's song for the rest of his life if you choose not to kill him. He would never be able to be satisfied, his life would be ruined for any other pleasures. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. There was something innocent about the young pirate, he was not yet hardened by the burdens of life at sea.
You slowly approached closer, ready to swim back to the safety of the deeper waters. Once further in the sandy banks, about five feet in front of the man you locked eyes again.
You lifted your torso up from the water and watched as his eyes studied your form, he seemed eager to see more of you. In a bold move you lifted your shiny tail from the water and moved it. The fins glistened in the moonlight, the colours dancing across his eyes. He was completely enraptured by it. He noted your tail looked different from one a decade ago, you also wore coverings on your heavy chest, you had jewelled bangles on your arms and a few shelled necklaces around your neck, your fingers had some rings. Your ears had a slight point to them and your face was stunning.
“What is your name?” He asked softly, as he took a few more steps into the shallows, closing the distance more, instinctively you backed up from him. You didn’t know how to say your name in his native tongue, so you shrugged and watched him.
“I’m James, people call me Bucky,” he said, stopping so you would stop moving away.
“Bucky,” you rolled the word around your mouth for a moment. Then you heard the distant sound of another approaching. You immediately pushed back, but not before pulling a small scale from your tail and wedging it between the rocks, it would gleam under the moonlight. And just like that you were gone.
“Wait,” his voice died as he heard the tell-tale sign of someone approaching.
“There you are, your father is losing his mind looking for you,” Steve’s voice echoed around the now empty lagoon. As Bucky turned to leave the thigh high water and retreat back to shore he noticed the faint glint in the water. Reaching down he snagged the scale and admired it a moment before tucking it in his pocket and joining his friend and heading back to the beach where his father waited.
The scale felt heavy in his pocket, he felt its weight all the time. He has worn a small divot in the scale from rubbing it all the time when he was worried, or there was a lull in work on the ship. He kept it hidden though, how could he explain he found such a pretty thing without giving it away, he broke one of the cardinal rules of piracy, when he found her he should have trapped her, stripped her scales and killed her. But instead he kept her secret and held onto the scale. On nights of full moons he would admire it in the moonlight, it would shimmer differently in the moon than it did in the sun.
The sea was calm tonight while he watched the deck, watching over the crew as they finished nightly duties, the moon high in the sky and full. A shiver ran down his spine as he looked over the still water as the moon reflected off it. Something felt wrong and he couldn’t quite place it. Then he heard it, it was faint at first, soft like a cotton quilt as it whispered through the night like a soft breeze and it slowly grew louder. The men on deck heard it and rushed to the sides of the ship trying to catch a glimpse of those responsible for the song.
“Cover your ears you fools!” He shouted loudly, trying to project his voice louder than the siren song. He quickly shoved the cotton he kept on hand into his ear canals to block the song out. It was too late for some of them, the sirens had crawled up the side of the ship, they had dug their claws into the minds of these men and dragged them over the side of the boat without any protest.
His father rushed from the cabin, shoving cotton in his ears and tossing a pistol at his first mate. They went to war against the sirens whose hands shifted to claws and swiped toward anyone that pointed a gun at them. This was a whole pod of them, at least 15 circling the ship, ready to drag it to the briny depths. He looked over the edge, aiming a shot at the purplish tail he saw swim through silvery water as their spilled blood glistened in the moonlight. Their song was getting louder and louder, the cotton almost not enough to protect his ears.
There was a sickening crack that echoed through the silent night. The ship shifted and he felt it sinking as it took water on quickly. “Dad!” He shouted as he grabbed his fathers arm and tried to drag him to a life raft so they could try and escape the sinking ship.
“No boy, a captain goes down with his ship,” his father roared. He shoved a sack in his son's arms, he was pulled backwards and thrown overboard next to the life raft, his best friend following behind, cutting a rope for the raft that fell next to them.
The shock of the cold water as he hit it made him jolt and thrash as the weight of the bag dragged him down in the icy depths. His eyes burned as he tried to see into the dark sea, the salt stinging them further. He felt the current change rapidly, something was circling him and fast, he wiped around trying to find whatever it was. His eyes were useless in the briny darkness. This thrashing and turning were quickly draining his energy and he was losing his oxygen fast.
He felt something grip his ankle and pull him, he thrashed and kicked out, he felt something connect and the hand gripping his ankle was gone, he tried to swim up but the bag was pulling him further down. He refused to leave it behind. As he looked up through the dark sea he saw the moon shining down over him, then a set of striking eyes and a body covered the moonlight. Hands gripped his shoulders and hauled him upwards.
He gasped loudly and coughed himself awake. He was face down in the sand, the bag his father gave him next to him and no one around him. The grainy sand made his skin itch, he tried to move but his body felt weak, he was exhausted and parched.
“Holy shit!” He heard a voice yell, the sound of splashing water and then he felt hands grip his shoulders and haul him upright, the arms wrapped around him tightly and he felt cool tears on his cheek.
“You’re alive, I thought we lost you, you were being dragged down to the depths, how?” Steve was rambling, he hugged him tighter. “God I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“My dad,” Bucky croaked, “my dad, is he..?” His voice trailed off. Steve gave him a solemn look and nodded.
“Him and most of the crew. The Morning Star is gone too. They’re in Davy Jones' locker now, god rest their souls,” Steve said softly. “The sirens took her down.” Bucky nodded and groaned. His head was pounding and his throat was dry as desert.
Eight Years Later
You watched from your hiding spot as they off loaded, medicine, on to the port. You had been curious about this crew since they made port yesterday, most of the things they were off loading were for the benefit of the people and they were not charging handsomely for the supplies. That part baffled you even more, most men were greedy, pirates more so.
The Daybreak as the ship was named, looked to be a modified frigate. That allowed it to be agile and quick while still housing powerful weapons. Nothing like the Queen Anne’s Revenge or other large pirate ships that usually docked here. The people of the port seem to respect the crew of this ship a lot though, maybe they come here often.
You had yet to spy the captain of this vessel though, the reason you were so close, too close, to the port was because you were curious if the man you saved 8 years ago would show his face on one of the many boats. He was the boy you met 12 years ago. You had saved him from an early watery grave when your sisters attacked his ship, you were supposed to drag him down, eat his heart but as you swam around him and he kicked your sister in the face you had wanted to look in his eyes before you killed him. But you couldn’t, the moment you saw those stormy blues you knew it was him from the lagoon. He let you live once and didn’t harm you, and you owed him a debt. The sea did not take kindly to owed debts. So you saved him, a life for a life. A debt repaid.
You had tried finding him again at the lagoon but he rarely made port there and from what you could tell the alcove was abandoned shortly after his fathers ship was sunk by your sisters. So you visited the busier ports hoping to catch a glimpse of him again.
That’s where you messed up, you were too close to the port so you could try and spy on the pirates. You were not hidden enough and the moonlight glinted off your tail just right and caught the eye of a pirate that just so happened to be walking past. You didn’t notice him, but he was quick to make note and let some of the other crew know.
Curiosity got the better of you since this ship had been docked for 3 days there was no sign of the captain at all. What captain doesn’t leave their ship while at port. Against your better judgement and if your sisters had seen you they would have lost their minds, you swam up to the ship once the night was in full swing. Most of the crew would either be sleeping or on shore enjoying the comforts of women and booze.
There was a full moon tonight that slowly dropped down so the sun could rise, and the sea was calm. You should have heeded the warning signs but foolishly you crept around the ship far too close to the surface trying to spy the captain of the magnificent beast.
Bucky held the scale in his hand as the full moon light glimmered through the open window. It shimmered brilliantly under the moon. It felt heavier than usual tonight, it was almost humming. The scale was a curious trinket and very few knew he had it. His first mate and best friend Steve being one of them, and the swamp witch. He had lost it once, and his heart and chest felt like it was going to explode. The swamp witch said that his connection with the scale with other worldly and the siren that had left it with him probably bewitched it. Or he was somehow connected to the siren herself. But tonight it almost felt like the scale was singing to him.
“Captain,” Steve said in a hushed tone as he entered the quarters, “something is amiss with the crew. I fear they’re planning something.” Bucky nodded and waved his hand to dismiss him, Bucky was too focused on the scale he held in the fading moonlight. Steve shook his head and left the cabin.
You gave up soon and decided to cut your losses and get away from the ship and retreat to a secluded cave not far from the docks for the rest of the night. You didn’t notice the crewmen following your glistening scales. Once inside the cave, the water is much shallower than the ocean. You laid your head down and stretched your tail out and relaxed.
Something heavy was thrown on top of you and woke you immediately. You thrashed and flailed around trying to get free as an inhuman screech left your mouth. It was a net, “dose her,” someone shouted as you thrashed. Something sharp struck your hip area and you nearly passed out all fight and drive stolen from you. You felt yourself fold as the net was gathered and hauled through the water as they pulled you to god knows where.
“Easy does it men,” someone said, your head was pounding and you felt incredibly groggy and weak. You were thrown to the ground and slid across the deck and hit the wall of the ship, you were pulled back to the centre quickly and they pulled the net off you. You looked around frantically, you tried to move your tail but it felt like it weighed 1000 lbs.
You quickly tried to pull yourself across the deck and fall overboard but a scream left your throat suddenly as a sword was jammed into your fin and into the floorboard keeping you in place. You looked around at the group of men that surrounded you with greedy eyes.
“What is the meaning of this?” Someone barked as they pushed through the crowd. He was blonde and the moment your eyes connected he gawked at you for a moment before shouldering out of the way and heading toward the captains quarters.
“Those scales will fetch a mighty fine amount of gold,” some of the crewmen said, licking his lips as his eyes roved over your body.
“What is going on?” A new voice boomed and all the crewmen immediately stood at attention. He came into view and your breath hitched. It was him, it was the man from before. You couldn’t believe your eyes. He looked at you and immediately recognized you, there was something dark in his eyes as he stared at you, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.
“Bloody hell,” his eyes were wide as you looked you over, you felt incredibly exposed and turned to cover yourself. He pulled the sword from your fin, and you pulled your tail close to you. You felt a burn in your tail as the sun of the morning beat down on it, the scales dropping and disappearing the longer you sat there.
“Captain!” Someone shouted, your tail was disappearing as everyone gawked and human legs started to form. He stared at you wide eyed as legs appeared like magic before him.
In an attempt to get away you scrambled your feet and tried to get away. Never having used feet or legs before you didn’t make it far and fell down. The crew laughed, but quickly stopped at the captain's fierce gaze. He was taking his coat off as he took a few cautious steps toward you, he threw it on top of you and stepped back quickly as you bared your teeth to him.
“Who’s idea was this?” The captain growled as he looked around at his crew. Everyone was silent. “I asked a question.”
“It was I sir,” someone stepped forward. “I saw her snooping around the ship and followed her. We caught her and brought her here,��� he finished.
“What did I say about chasing merfolk?” The captain's voice was tense. “I told you not to. We can’t let her back in the water now. She’ll call her sisters and we’re as good as dead,” the captain pinched the bridge of his nose.
“We drugged her, she can’t grow her tail back. We got it from the swamp witch,” a crewman said. Which you missed because as the captain addressed his crew you as quietly as possible pulled yourself across the deck to the edge and threw yourself off. The captain's head whipped to the side as he looked toward where he heard the splash. He immediately dove over the side of the ship and into the water. You were sinking and flailing, unable to use your human legs effectively for anything. The captain wrapped his arms around your middle and hauled you to the surface of the water, you trashed against his arms and screamed, water filled your throat as your gills didn’t grow back either.
The crew pulled the captain back on board with you grasped in his arm, he threw you to the ground and you weren’t breathing.
“Fuck,” the captain dropped to his knees and started to force to the water from your lungs, you coughed violently a moment later sending sea water flying all over him. You gasped for air and felt panic set in as you looked into his bright blue eyes, why didn’t your fin grow back, what was happening. Why couldn’t you call your sisters when you hit the water. Your siren song is gone completely.
“Whoa. Whoa. You were drugged. The cure is a couple month journey, we’ll get it for you,” the crew erupted in protest.
“What!? Why?” Some shouted. “I say we cut it throat and bleed the bitch,” one person yelled over the rest. Fear gripped your heart as you looked into the captain's eyes, frantically searching for something that would save you from that fate.
“No,” it was a simple answer as the captain effortlessly hauled you up into his arms and marched toward his quarters, throwing the door open and slamming it shut. He dropped you in his bed and backed away and started to pace as you stared at him fearfully. You pushed back against the wall and pulled your legs to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. You felt tears leak out of your eyes and your throat was dry and scratchy.
“I know you,” the captain finally said as he stopped and looked at you, you shrunk further under his intense gaze. “You were the one who saved me, the one I saw at the lagoon,” you nodded at him. “Why,” he asked sternly.
You pointed at your throat and gasped. He raised an eyebrow at you, you sighed and rolled your eyes. You pointed at his hip flask and then at your throat again.
“You’re thirsty?” He asked, you nodded vigorously. He moved quickly and you jumped, pushing father away from him. “Sorry,” he said as he extended his arm out with a small cup of water. You snatched it and drank it back quickly, feeling immediate relief.
“Debt repaid,” you croaked out. His eyebrow raised quizzically again. You sighed heavily, “you saved me,” another long drink of water, “I saved you. Life for life.” Your voice was evening out and crackling less. Your English was still choppy and words sounded difficult for you to say.
“You felt you owed me a blood debt?” He asked, you rolled your eyes, humans. You nodded again.
“The sea does not take kindly to owed debts. She believes in balance,” the words came out rushed and choppy.
“So if you killed me 8 years ago, you, what, would be punished for not repaying the debt?” He asked, confused.
“Yes, the ocean, she would punish my sisters and I,” your breath hitched suddenly at the mention of your sisters. They would eventually come looking for you once they realised they couldn’t hear your song. “I need to get back to them, they’ll kill you and your crew,” you said frantically.
“Whoa,” he held his hands up at you, “easy there girl, I can’t just let you go back to them. Who’s to say you won’t lead them right to us?” He said, your chest tightened and your heart was pounding, you stared at him fearfully.
“You’re holding me hostage?” Your voice cracked as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes now.
“They’ll want me to gut you before I let you leave,” he said, and rubbed his beard clad chin. “Hell they'll only agree to bring you to the swamp witch so you can get your scales back so they can take them.” He said it so casually, your eyes widened at him.
“I’ll bring you to the cure, but you’ll own me, you’ll be in my debt again,” you gulped. “And I can think of a few ways you can repay it,” you made a disgusted expression and gawked at him, a sour note leaving your throat. He looked at you and his eyes widened suddenly, “god no, not that,” he said quickly. You breathed a sigh of relief.
“So what will you do with me? Throw me in the cell in the brig. Let your crew have their way with me,” you spat at him venomously. His eyes darkened suddenly, something sinister hiding in those ocean blues. He glared at you and you shrunk under his gaze.
“No one will lay a hand on you,” he all but growled at you. There was possessiveness to his words, his gaze hard and there was a storm brewing in his eyes. “You will stay here. With me.” He said with a sense of finality, you looked at him disgusted again.
“I’m not going to be your personal whore,” you snapped. His face snapped to face yours instantly and he was standing very close to you, his face right in yours and he glared into your eyes, you could smell the remnants of rum on his breath, your breath hitched.
“You will be what I want you to be. If you want protection from them out there,” his tone was hard, stern. It scared you beyond belief. His hand reached out and he cupped your chin in his large calloused fingers making you look into his eyes. “Do I make myself clear?” You gulped and nodded, he immediately dropped his hand from your chin and walked away like he was disgusted by being that close to you. You watched him take a few deep breaths and shake his shoulders out.
“I will not harm you or expect anything of you that you are not comfortable with. The debt you owe me can be repaid once you get your fins back,” he said evenly before leaving the cabin, leaving you completely alone.
You took some deep shuddering breaths before you tried to move from the bed. The moment you stood you wobbled and fell back into the bed. You groaned loudly and fisted the sheets in frustration. The ship was still docked, if you could get these god forsaken legs to work with you, you could possibly escape back onto port before the ship got too far away. But based on the fact you couldn’t even stand upright without falling that would not be happening. And not to mention you were naked from the chest down, and the only thing covering your breasts was your handmade bra. You loved it, it was adorned in gems, and shells. You used things you found from wrecks to make it, the jewellery you wore was also from the many shipwrecks on the ocean floor.
Resigned to your fate you tucked yourself into the corner of the bunk and covered your legs with the blanket. It was scratchy and rough against the skin of your barre legs. This is a feeling you didn’t think you would get used to any time soon. You tried to get your body and brain to work in sync by practising wiggling your toes and rolling your ankles around. Then bending your knees and twisting your leg at the hip. You would have to figure these legs out sooner rather than later or it would be a boring 2 months before you made it ‘swamp witch’ as they called the mother.
It was while before you heard movement outside the cabin door, it slammed open, “Bucky, man you’re crazy. The crew, they'll never agree to keeping her here,” the blonde from earlier shouted at his captain. You scrambled back into the corner of the bed and tucked yourself into a small ball as his gaze snapped over to you.
“It’s her isn’t it? The one who gave you scale 12 years ago. I recognized it the second I saw her tail,” he spat at his captain.
Bucky threw his hand over the blonde mouth and glared into his eyes, “shush you fool,” Bucky snapped. “Yes it’s her,” he whispered, releasing the blonde's face.
“We’re so fucked,” the blonde threw his hands up in the air. He immediately whipped around and stalked up toward you, you pressed back further as he pointed his finger directly at you. “I don’t know how you bewitched him, or what your plan is,” he grabs your wrist and slit it with a knife, you yelped and stared back at him in fear as he slid the blade across his palm. Before he could connect the cuts together the captain grabbed the blonde's wrist.
“Fool,” Bucky spat at his first mate. “That’s a siren. You can’t make a blood bond with her. Their song runs in their blood. You foolish idiot.” He threw his friend away from you. You cursed yourself for a moment, earlier when you fell into the sea, you should have sliced your palm and let the blood trickle into the water. Your sisters would have heard it. The song of the blood was different, more desperate than your usual song and would have called your sisters to your side immediately. But that only worked in water. He grabbed the blade and slid the blade across his palm and grabbed your cut wrist.
Your blood mingled and you felt it singing, it was powerful, primal almost. As the blood mingled and combined you felt pinpricks through your body, his eyes were glowing a little as your siren blood mixed with his human blood. You were shocked a mere mortal would foolishly bond himself in blood to a siren. “If you harm anyone on or off this ship or this ship itself. You will parish,” he ground out as he felt your blood seep into his veins. You glared at him and growled, you put your other hand on his and kept them connected.
“If you or any of your crew harms me, they will parish,” you spat at him, eyes ablaze. He ripped his hand from your wrist and glared down at you.
“You witch,” the blonde spat.
“Enough Steve,” Bucky said, breathing heavily. “You got what you wanted. A protection pact. Bound in blood,” he finished. The wounds healing quickly, the magic of the sea seeping into the ships boards.
“You let her damn us. Now we can’t kill her afterwards,” Steve spat, he glared at you. You glared back.
“Blood pacts can be broken. The swamp witch can do it,” your lip twitches.
“To break a blood pact will cost you gravely,” your voice was an eerie tone, darker than before, more far away. His head whipped toward you and you smirked at him, “are you sure you’ll want to pay the price.” The price of breaking a blood pact usually favoured neither party. The sea would always get the last laugh in these circumstances.
“The worst it could be is death,” the captain spat toward you. “And fortune favours the bold.”
“There are fates worse than death, captain,” you snarled back. He whipped around and placed the tip of his sword under your chin and made you look into his eyes.
“Of which you’ll learn,” he retorted.
“You can’t harm me. Any harm and the punishment is grave,” you challenged, not cowering from him. He growled and a shiver went down your spine.
Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list!
#bucky barnes#pirate!bucky barnes#pirate!bucky#pirate!bucky x mermaid!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#fluff#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#pirates#pirate!au#mermay 2024
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~`All ours part 2~`
Part 1
~`Pairing: Viking!141 x reader
~`summary : after the raid you and the rest of the survivors were taking to price's village where your fate awaits.
A/n : OMG THANK YOU ALL FOR SO MUCH LOVE FOR THE PREVIOUS FIC. Since you guys loved the previous one so much i wrote a longer version and i hope i live up to the expectations. Also huge thanks to anon from this post for the idea for this part. AGAIN THIS IS A DARK FIC CONTAINING SHIT. Also my asks are open for ideas
!WARNINGS! : slightly NSFW, simping over john price, being kept prisoner, mention of slavery.
~`wordcount : idk.
Blackness. Pitch blackness. Thats what it felt like. You felt it consume you slowly..bit by bit it was eating everything. All the memories you had, all the times you laughed and cried...it all felt worthless now that you were being consumed.
Slowly you opened your eyes. Everything was blurry at first but bit by bit your vision was returning. You looked around and tried to move only to realize both of your hands were bound by some kind of rope to your back. You also realized that you were moving or atleast you were on something that was moving. You carefully sit up and observed your surroundings. You were in the back of what looks like a wagon with a buch of the survivors from your village, you could see some familiar faces and some bruised and bloodied faces.
"What happend...where are we going" you asked to the old woman that sat closest to you
"The raid happend...everything was destroyed and burned...they took us from our homes and loaded us up onto theire ships like cattle and made us beg for food. We then got off and then they loaded us up here.....our next destination may be our last"
The old lady said with a look in her eye that was a mixture of fear and despair. You remember the killing, the stealing and you remembered the men who did it. You also remember failing to escape...a mistake that would change your whole life.
After what seemed like eternity the wagon came to a halt. You could hear people calling out and children's voices. A village?
"THEY HAVE RETURNED!"
"Look they're back"
"Lord price is back!!"
You heard people and children shouting and praising. Lord price. That was the man. The man who murdered hundreds and led the raid. Why are people praising this monsters return? And why are they calling him lord? Thats when it dawned on you. You were in a village. His village. This is the home of those monsters. You could hear footsteps aproaching the wagon and tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was about to come. It was the man with the skull mask that approached the wagon with keys in his hand. he opened the cage and ushered everyone to get out.
"All of you. Out. Now. "
He said in a stern and terrifying voice. Afraid and terrified of what the man would do they started to get out slowly one by one. And since you were all the way in the back you had to wait until your turn finally came. You slowly tried to crouch walk to get out of the cage without looking him in the eye but just as you were about to jump out you lost you balance and almost fell out. You were sure you were about to fall face first into the dirt but you didnt. You opened your eyes and looked up and saw the masked man holding you bridal style.
"Be careful. You arent going to be of any use if your injured"
He put you on the ground again and you joined up with the rest of the captives.
"Move"
You heard the masked man say from behind you lot. Slowly as a group you started walking. You looked around and saw tents, huts, homes, children and woman. You all walked on the main path with several people staring at you lot with disgust.
"I'd say this haul is fairly successful"
"I wouldn't call only getting weat and goats successful. They had almost no gold."
You turned you head and saw the 2 men who slaughtered your home speaking amongst themselves. One was dark skinned one and the other apears to be a woman. You were so into their conversation that you didnt look where you were walking and bumped into what felt like a wall of a chest.
"Wadda we 'ave here. If it isnt the pretty little thing that tried to run away from us"
You recognized this man with a mohawk haircut and immediately lowered your head as to not offend him. You tried to move with the group so you dont fall behind but he wasnt having it.
"Oh come on now i just wanna talk it'll fun commonnn."
He said in a low sultry voice. His hands then wrapped around you waist and he pulled you towards him.
"This here is my home. What dont you like it?"
He said in a mocking voice. You tried to squirm away from him without making eye contact.
"JOHNNY" you heard someone yell.
"Ah duty calls. here hold onto this for me will ya. I will find you again mkay"
He handed you what seems to be a small wooden plate. Carved into it was the name "Johnny "soap" mactavish". You quickly put it into your pocket of your dress and tried to catch up with you group. What did he want? What does he mean he will find me? Why did he hold me like that? These questions were like the plague. Dangerous for your body and soul.
You and the rest of the survivors where escorted to the back of the camp into what looked like a prison of sorts where you were to stay until you found out what in gods name they wanted with you.
"We can't keep them here without them dying of starvation John. And we certainly do not have enough food to feed everyone. Why did you bring them back here?"
"I have a plan kate."
"Care to share it with us boss" Johnny said as he entered the tent with simon right behind him.
"I will sell them. Easy. Graves informed me that he needed more slaves for his buyers. So we will sell him the survivors as slaves in exchange for more food and weapons" john said with a serious look on his face while sitting on his throne like chair signing some kind of papers.
"Sound good to you kate?"
After a moment of silence laswell sighed then nodded her head in approval.
"Now if you dont mind i have work to attend to" john said as he was getting up and ready to leave.
For the next week or so you spend as their prisoner you seen alot of things. Monsters tho they may be they also care about this village. But at night they are like feral beast. Each night they all have different women and sometimes they dont even wait till night fall. You gathered this much from seeing and hearing things. The masked one is called ghost but his friends refer to him as simon. He doesnt bed a woman often but if he does he is certainly ruthless with a stamina of a horse. The one with a mohawk is refered to as soap but also as Johnny. He is a real ladies man. With him its every night and sometimes there are more than just 1 women. Then there is the dark skinned one wich you rarely see but when you do he's usually hurt or just came back from hunting. Just like simon he sometimes has a woman come with him to bed. He is probably a passionate lover if anything else and then there is the captian. John is his name. Everytime you see him its like something inside you burns. Tall dark handsome. You shouldnt be liking him but you cant help it. It also doesnt help when the woman he beds let out such moans you can only hope to make one day.
You snapped out of your daydream when simon aproached the cage and unlocked it.
"Everyone out now"
Fearing him everyone quietly obeyed and one by one exited the cage. What was going on? Is this the day you would die? These questions where eating at you.
"Follow me" simon said as he walked in front of the group until he reached a small dock with a couple of boats and ships. Simon then waved at one of the ships and soon the crew of the ship started to come to the dock with small boats.
"All of you get on"
"W..whats happening? Where are you taking us" one of the elder ladies asked with fear lached into her voice.
"Your being sold" said the voice from behind us. Price walked up to us with soap right behind him as he started to speak.
"Your being sold as slaves in exchange for supplies. It is only right i tell you your fate."
Your felt your heart sinking and your breath started to get unstable. Sold? As slaves? You can't be a slave? Soon all the captives started to cry and plead for their lives but simon forced them onto the boats until it was finally your turn. You pleaded him for mercy while crying.
"Wait not her" price spoke up and you saw johnny behind him grinning like a mischievous cat.
"Why not"
"Well she will be ours ofcourse" price said nonchalantly to simon. Simon in turn released me and i watched as the rest of the captives where being hauled away. Confused you asked
"Why...why me"
Price looked at you amusingly and smiled.
"A pretty little thing like you belongs here. With us ofcourse. You are ours now. And as for why well.." price looked back at a grinning johnny and continued.
"Someone requested you so as a favour now your ours."
Price took a few steps forwars until he was close enough for me to hear his heart beat. He took my face in his hand and pulled it upwards toward him. Slowly and in a low voice he whispered in my ear.
"All ours."
Ahhh finally done with this part and next part will be spicy i can assure you that and as all ways my asks are OPEN. Also i am making a taglist for everytime i post a fic so feel free to comment if you want to be part of the taglist. Also i apologize for any mistakes cuz english is not my first language. THANKS AGAIN FOR THE LOVE <3
#captain john price#cod#cod mw2#task force 141#writing smut is exhausting#reading#cod mwii#ghost mw2#captain price#simon x reader
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The Beast and The Mouse🔞
Info: KidxFem/reader, too lazy to mention everything but this chapter is for the mature only!🔞 Hints of rough sex, slightly forced, cussing and some foreplay.
Warning: Long! I probably should have cut it in half, but after the hiatus, I figured a long chapter wouldn't hurt. I hope you enjoy it!
Please keep in mind that this is the first time I have written smut with Kid. Enjoy!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Part 4: The One in the Mask
@ella157 @bdudette @faetoraa @elen-alambil @buckysxgal @ryuv1i @ilovespicykimchi @stuckinthewrongworld @ninablue @kookydoesstuff @Kimyk10br
The energy on the ship felt strange but Y/N supposed it couldn't be helped. After all, she did stab the captain.
It didn't matter that she didn't kill him. It didn't matter that he had asked, no, commanded her to do it, and it certainly didn't matter that he deserved it. She stabbed Eustass "Captain" Kid, the bastard.
Her attack on Kid gave Y/N mixed notoriety among her crewmates. There were some in the crew would questioned whether she could be trusted. Others saw it as a right of passage and that the Captain wanted to test her even though he never tested anyone before.
Whatever they choose to believe, they all agreed it was best to stay away from Y/N. At least the men did anyway. The women, on the other hand, had their own opinion that Kid got what he deserved for pushing a knife into Y/N's hand.
"Don't sweat it, love! Kid is too stubborn to die from a knife wound. Everyone in the crew knows that!" A tall blue-haired girl named London said as she threw an arm around Y/N.
The other women in the dorm laughed as they passed around a bottle of cherry whiskey.
Quincy giggled and commented slyly, "Yeah, it's not like you damaged anything important! That would be a tragedy!"
The others snickered as they made lewd comments, then went back to settling in for the night. Y/N blushed as her gaze dropped to the cup of booze she held in her hands.
"I don't understand why he is so mean to me," Y/n said softly.
Dive gave Y/n’s knee a gentle pat as London waved off her comment.
"What can we say?! The guy is a jerk." London said casually, then held up her glass and cried, "But he is our jerk!" The other women cheered and drank to her words.
As the other women returned to their own gossip, London and Quincy moved closer to Y/n when they saw that the toast didn't cheer her up.
"I just don't get it. It's like he wants something from me, but I don't know what it is." Y/N said her thoughts out loud as the trio listened. "Every time I think things are better between us, Kid does or says something that destroys any progress made."
Quincy and London looked at each other with brows raised as Dive patted Y/n's knee again.
"Kid is like that, and you can't take it personally. Besides, if he didn't want you here, he would have gotten rid of you long ago." Dive explained.
“Yeah,” Quincy nodded with a grin, “He would have literally tossed you overboard.”
London seemed to agree but added, “I think Killer would give you the courtesy of a heads-up before it got to that.”
Y/n sighed since Kid did try to get rid of her on her third day aboard the ship, and Killer was trying to talk him out of it. The reasoning back then was that Kid didn’t think she could handle it, but hadn’t she proven herself to him by now?
"I guess not, but what is it going to take?" Y/N thought as she took a sip of her drink.
“Hey, Y/n, have you talked to the Captain since stabbing him,” London asked with a curious glance. Y/N sighed and shook her head no.
Y/n hadn't heard or seen him for three days while sailing. Even her training with Killer had stopped, so she chose to train on her own. The ship had stopped at an island the day before for supplies, so Kid spent most of his time on land exploring.
The rumors she overheard from the male crew members about Kid's time on the island made her feel sick. He apparently visited a popular establishment on the island and was seen drinking with women, then taking a few of them to the rooms above the bar. Y/n knew it was silly to feel upset or betrayed. The first time she saw Kid, he had a woman in his lap. Still, it was hard not to feel a tight knot in her chest when she thought about Kid with other women.
Y/N tossed back the rest of her drink, hoping the cherry-flavored alcohol would knock her out so she could wake up with her common sense restored.
"What we need," London said brightly as she stood up and put her hands on her hips, "Is a girl's night out! We get to go ashore tomorrow night, so let's live it up!"
From her back pocket, London pulled out a flyer with gold lettering that read, "The Garden." Quincy grinned at her and said, "Now that's an idea! I've heard rumors about that place."
She turned to Y/N, saying, “This is exactly what you need!”
"Why do I need to go to a bar? I can drink on the ship," Y/n said with a smile.
Quincy rolled her eyes. "It's not just a bar. It's-"
“A brothel,” Dive gasped and laughed as she pointed at the name on the flyer. "That's the place the Captain been going to!"
"A brothel," Y/n said blushing as she stared at London's and Quincy's wide grins. "I thought that…"
“What? That only men go to brothels?" Dive snickered.
"I'm mean..."
Y/N looked between all three and realized how naive she still was about the bigger world outside her own experiences. She then picked up the flyer and read the short, punchy description.
A place for all to gather and share their hidden desire. All are welcome. Women drink for free.
Y/N frowned at the "women drink for free" line and read further down in smaller lettering that women who help entertain or keep company for a guest drank for free.
She shook her head and said, "I don't know, isn't there another place we could go to have a girl's night?"
London grabbed the flyer and pointed to it, saying, "Free, Y/N! Free!"
"Only if we entertain!" Y/N said as she blushed.
Quincy smirked and said, "Oh, I've been to one of these places.” She then looked at Y/N and said, "You don't have to sleep with anyone. Just be friendly if someone talks you up or asks for a dance."
"And if you meet someone you want to sleep with, then the guy pays for use of the room." Dive finished explaining with a grin.
Y/N paled as Quincy grinned back at her. "Best part is that it's lady's choice of whose company she's keeping."
“But I-”
“Come on, Y/n! You worked at a bar! You know how to talk to drinking men! And it's not like you have to sleep with anyone!” London said as she pleased with her eyes.
“Unless you wanted to,” joked Dive, who gave her an encouraging look.
"It is a great stress reliever." Quincy sighed, then shrugged, "If the guy is good, anyway."
Y/n looked at her new friends and sighed.
"I guess I can give it a go."
The trio cheered and hugged Y/N, promising she wouldn't regret her trip to The Garden.
Kid scowled as his skin prickled at the energy of the place. Ordinarily, he would be excited to come to a brothel and find a woman or three to spend the night with. Now, the idea turned his stomach, and it annoyed him.
Why should it bother him to pick up women?! Killer was right! This was what he needed. The night before was...not a success. Yes, he drank with a few women and took them to a room, but his damn body wouldn't cooperate! So he drank the night away and passed out, but not before threatening the women into silence.
What he needed was the right woman to get over his desire for Y/N. It irritated him that not just any woman would do. He thought about finding someone with the same hair color or body type as Y/N and was immediately repulsed by the idea. No way could Kid settle for anything less than what he originally desired. What he needed was someone better than Y/N. Kid scanned the room as he and Killer walked to an empty table.
"We could ask the proprietor if she has any suggestions." Killer suggested to Kid, as a masked barmaid brought their drinks.
Kid scoffed and tossed back his drink. He then looked around the large bar. All the women were dressed in simple white or cream dresses and different color masks. The men could dress as they pleased, but women were required to wear this uniform if they wished to participate.
A clever scheme since a poor drunken bastard won't be able to tell the difference between a whore from the brothel and a woman just looking for a good time till it was too late. Kid took another drink as Killer waved over the Madam of this "garden."
"Hello, gentlemen; how may I be of service?"
This woman wore a golden cloth mask and a dress with her hair pulled back. Her both her eyes and voice gave away the maturity of her age. Kid ignored the woman as he sipped his drink and watched the women in the bar and then the men. He usually could go either way, but that damned 'mouse' was fucking everything up for him.
"I see," The madam mused. "I think have what you are looking for in my garden this night."
"Forget it, I don't pay for sex."
The woman stiffened, but she stayed cool as she studied Kid. Her sharp eyes and years of dealing with men told her just about everything she needed to know.
She smiled cunningly and said, "You were unsatisfied with your choices last night, so how about this? I bring you a woman who fits your needs. If she satisfies you, you will pay for the use of the room. If she doesn't, then you pay nothing at all."
Kid peered over at the woman and then scoffed. "I'm guessing the price of the rooms just got marked up."
The woman shrugged her shoulders as she held her smile. "Well? Do you agree?"
Kid looked at his drink and said, "Throw in a few free rounds for me and my buddy Killer, and you got yourself a deal."
Killer had to give credit to the woman. She felt any irritation she hid it well.
"Very well," The madam replied, waving over a girl from the bar. The girl hurried over and placed two new drinks on the table. "Enjoy, gentlemen, and leave the rest to me." She walked away with an equal calmness that showed how long she had worked in this business.
Kid then picked up his second drink and began to work on it as Killer studied the people in the crowd. Killer didn't want to bring up Kid's mouse problem, but his buddy's behavior was concerning. He knew what happened last night, and that wasn't all like Kid. They needed to get rid of the girl Killer thought as he took a drink.
"Maybe this is a good place to leave her."
Killer nearly choked and glanced at Kid, glad that he didn't have to bring the idea up to him. It was odd to see a woman get under Kid's skin so easily by simply existing. Since the incident with the knife, Kid had distanced himself from Y/N, but he wasn't the same. Getting rid of the girl would be for the best and it was better to let it be Kid's idea.
When he didn't say anything else, Killer carefully agreed with him.
"It's not a bad town. Plenty of work. Not a shit hole."
"Nope, definitely not a shit hole." Kid agreed and chuckled. He took another long sip and stared at the women and men gathering at the bar. "Looks like some of our crew is here." He grinned, pleased to see them having fun. He then frowned as he searched for Y/N among the masked women. He could pick out London, Quincy and Dive, but not Y/N, who he knew hung out with them.
"She's not here, Kid. I saw her working in the sickbay before we went, and the other women said they couldn't convince her to come."
"Fuck," Kid growled as he ran a hand through his hair. This was agonizing. He was supposed to be having fun and not giving a shit about anything. Later, he would have more important things to think about. This was no time to lose his grit over some girl. Kid tossed back his drink as he made up his made. Y/N will leave the ship tomorrow, and he will be the one to kick her off.
He set his empty glass on the table and stood up. Kid didn't feel in the mood to be out drinking, but he didn't want to go back to the ship just yet.
"You alright?" Killer asked.
"Peachy, I'm going to go for a walk. Tell that woman to forget our deal and to shove it up her ass if she complains."
People moved out of the way as Kid cut through the bar space and into the hallway leading to the exit. The entrance hall had two winding staircases leading to the rooms upstairs. As Kid moved closer to the middle of the staircases, he saw the madam of The Garden at the bottom of the left staircase.
He noticed she was speaking to a woman standing further up the stairs, and as he moved by, he couldn't help looking up at her. One look and Kid's blood went cold.
There was no way. Killer said that Y/N was back on the ship. Kid stared at the girl wearing a black cat mask over her face, but he swears that it was her. But her hair color was different from Y/N, and it was styled. Her body shape looked the same, but he doubted that his 'mouse' would have the nerve to dress provocatively and look at ease while out in the open for all to see.
The madam seemed to be instructing the girl as she talked in a low whisper while jesting with her pointed fingers. The girl nodded obediently and then turned to walk up the stairs. As she turned, her eyes caught Kid's staring at her. She was too far, and the mask made it hard to see her eyes as he tried to make out their color. She stilled, her red lips parting in surprise. Kid felt his blood heated back up, and his mind sped up.
This was the woman he was looking for to release his frustrations on.
The woman then looked away and continued to climb the staircase as if brushing him off. Kid growled and started to follow after her.
"Ah, you saw her." The madam cut in front of Kid, sounding pleased with herself. "She is fairly new in my garden, but I think you will find her satisfactory."
Kid glared at the woman, but she didn't flinch or move out of the way.
"She's one of yours?" He asked angrily, staring her down to see if the madam was lying.
She only grinned and nodded, then replied coolly, "As I said, if you find her pleasing, then you only need to pay for the cost of the room, but as you had mentioned earlier, the price will be triple its worth."
Kid grunted and then looked to the exit. He had no real reason to return to the ship, but something told him he should forget about the woman's offer. Kid moved to the doors, but then thought about the woman waiting for him upstairs.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His mind yelled at himself for being played. Just this once, he told himself, just this once he will have the fantasy.
Kid didn't look at the madam as she called out the room number he needed. Couples moved out of Kid's way when they sensed his aggression while heading to his room. The lights in the halls on the upper floors were dimmed, and as he passed door after door, Kid could hear muffled sounds, but he stayed focused on where he was going and what he would do. When he saw the door with the number he needed, he walked in as if he owned the small room.
Candles lit the room's corners, and a small fireplace cracked as it provided the only other light source. The woman spun around, her feathered bottom robe swaying around her nylon-covered legs. She had a hand holding her robe closed in front of her as she eyed Kid and said nothing as he entered the room and closed the door.
He stood across from her and looked her over to see if he could identify her, but she was a stranger to him. From where he stood he could see that her eye color was different from Y/N.
"Mask off," he then ordered.
The woman tilted her head at him, then opened her robe and let it slide down her arms to show him the lingerie on her body. Her top was bare, with only her lower half dressed. Kid grinned as his eyes traveled from her collarbones, over her curved chest, and to the sheer black panties that hugged her womanhood tightly. It was a perfect sight to his curious eye.
"Very nice, but I want the mask off."
The woman straightened her head and lifted her hands to the back of her head. She first let down her hair and then untied the mask. Kid stepped forward as the mask loosened and fell into her hand. When she looked up at him, Kid was annoyed to see a second mask, like the ones the women at the bar wore, still covering her face.
His hand moved to snatch it off her, but she caught his wrist. She then stepped forward and let go of him. Kid stared coldly at her. He remembered Killer telling him this place was popular with the locals because of its discretion. Meaning if a noblewoman wanted to know what it was like to be with a pirate or a marine with a pirate, it was possible here.
Not that this woman was either, but he doubted a whore cared about her identity. The clever madam could have lied about this woman being one of hers, but as she started to remove the last bit of lace from her body, Kid decided it didn't matter. Her skin was smooth and healthy looking, and she had the right amount of curves and fat on her body. And most importantly, his cock was willing as it started to stir in his pants.
Without thinking, Kid pulled the woman to him and put his mouth on her neck. The woman gasped and moaned as her head rolled to the side. Her nipples tightened with excitement as his hand ran down her back and slid over the curve of her hips.
"Fine," He whispered into her ear. "Keep your silly mask, but you better prepare yourself if you're going to fuck around with pirates. Especially me."
Her breathing became shaky, but she didn't speak or pull away. Kid smirked and sucked harder at her neck, making the woman release a surprised cry. The sound made his cock jump, making him want to hear more of her voice. He then lifted her and dropped her on the bed. She made a sound that was a mixture of surprise and annoyance as she bounced on the mattress. Kid only chuckled as he moved over while undoing his pants.
If this woman was looking for something slow and easy, she made a big mistake, Kid mused maliciously as he moved over her on the bed. The woman's eyes widen as she becomes trapped underneath him. Kid thought she was going to protest, but instead, she ran her hands over his chest and then dragged her nails over his shoulders.
Her nails bit into his skin, leaving angry red lines. Kid found the stinging pain a comforting release. His breath shuttered, and his eyes closed as her lips went to the base of his neck. As if paying him back, her teeth press into his skin hard enough to leave an imprint.
Kid shoved her back down, and the woman glared at him, but he ignored it as he lowered his head to suck at her breast. His tongue licked hard at her nipples, and the woman struggled not to make a sound as she gripped his shoulders. Her nails dig into his skin and Kid let out a breathy laugh, liking the treatment the woman was giving him.
He sucked harder at her breast, making the woman toss her head, and then forced a choked cry from her when he pulled at the other tight bud with his fingers. When his teeth scraped a nipple, she yelped and tried to smack Kid's face with her hand.
Kid moved away and chuckled at her. Whoever this woman was, she was gusty. A shiver went down his spine when his eyes met hers. They challenged him, but Kid could see a hint of anxiousness. Though they were a different color, Kid couldn't help thinking of Y/N.
He growled and roughly flipped the woman over to her stomach. He needed to stay focused and remember why he was here: to get laid and back to normal. The woman tried to lift her head, but Kid pushed on her upper back to keep her still.
"Stay down." Kid growled gruffly at her. And don't look at him with those damn eyes!
Kid shoved a finger in her to see if she was wet enough. The woman grunted and huffed but she didn't move to look at him. Kid was surprised to feel that despite his rough treatment of her, she was wet.
"You like it rough, I see," he said with a grin as he traveled down her back and over her ass. "That's good because it's going to get rougher."
The woman peered over her shoulder at him, then wobbled on her hands when Kid pulled one of her legs to make room for him. He then pressed himself against her sensitive flesh. Kid grinned wildly when he heard her take a breath and purposely thrust forward without any warning.
The poor woman choked on her exhale as Kid gritted his teeth to hold back the groan that wanted to crawl up his throat. After weeks of no relief, this was the sensation he was missing; this was what he needed. Kid wanted to dive further into her without caution, but her small size could only take so much of him without more preparation. The woman gasped and moaned as she tried to twist herself away.
"Fuck me, I bet she's a virgin," Kid's mind cursed as he slid back and tried to push more of himself into her, only for her to cry out in pain.
To Kid, virgins were only fun in theory, but in practice, he found them to be too much work and needy. He snorted and told himself that it was not his problem if she planned to have her first time in a brothel with a stranger.
Kid gripped her hips to hold her still as another groan threatened to escape his throat when she whimpered and tried to get away from him. The sadist in him was loving this. He saw no reason to be gentle with a woman who allowed herself to be put in the hands of a pirate. Kid was ready to start satisfying his lust when a part of him that he wasn't familiar with took possession.
“Relax.”
Both he and the woman stilled at the calm tone of his voice. Kid blinked and allowed himself to be possessed by whatever secret entity moved him to be gentle. He bent down and said huskily into her ear, "Just relax."
The woman seemed to side-eye him as her hands gripped the sheets, not completely trusting him as she tried to relax her body in his grasp.
The asshole in him wanted to take advantage and force himself into her, but instead, he reached around and rubbed his fingers on her clit. She let out a gasping cry and began to moan as her body wiggled and relaxed further.
“And people say I can’t do anything nice”, he thought with a pleased chuckle as he milked moans from the trembling woman under him.
The woman struggled at first not to let out her voice, but as Kid teased her by stimulating her clit and slowly pushing his cock forward, she gave up and let her breath do what it needed to keep her alive. Kid swallowed thickly and even groaned as the woman clenched and relaxed around him. A dark chuckle escaped him when she pushed herself back onto his cock to try and take in the rest of him.
This is enough of a warm-up for her; time for the real fun, Kid thought as he changed his pace.
He pulled her closer and drove himself deeper into her. She screamed into the air as her pussy stretched and held him in her. She then made a slight laughing sound that stroked Kid's ego. He grinned at the back of her neck as he began his thrusting. Fuck, he thought as her body took him with no issues, fuck, fuck, fuck. This was what he needed.
Kid couldn't remember want else happened from there. All he knew was that the woman didn't fight him as he slid in and out of her in a heated frenzy. He lost all restraint and used the woman to get the relief he desired for weeks. When he finally came, he hardly cared that he filled the woman's aching pussy with his cum.
He then pulled away and staggered to the door as he pulled up his pants. Kid didn't bother to look back at her. He opened the door and went out into the hall. He needed a drink and a long nap. As he walked back down the stairs, he was the brothel owner with a calm smile on her lips. Wordlessly, she held out her hand to Kid. With a grunt, Kid handed her the money and went to look for Killer in the bar.
The madam then went up the stairs to check on the new girl she had given to the pirate. The woman in the bed waited for Kid to leave before she got up from the bed just as the madam entered the room. She had a thick robe that she threw over the woman's shoulder.
"Come, I will help you." The madam said softly to the woman.
"I have to get back." The woman replied worriedly.
"I will help." The madam repeated and guided the woman out of the room.
Kid and the rest of the crew didn't return to the ship until late at night. Y/N woke up to London, and the others laughed as they crawled into bed. Sighing, Y/N got up and went to the infirmary to set aside all the ingredients for the tonic she would have to make for everyone in the morning. She then winced and reached for a jar of her freshly made ointment.
The ointment was cool on her fingertips, and she carefully spread it on her shoulders, neck, and chest. She knew that Kid would be rough, yet she had a feeling he tried to hold back, at least initially. She huffed and shook her head, then winced again. No, she got the Kid treatment, and she should be lucky that he went easy on her based on the stories she had overheard on the ship.
What she did was crazy and stupid. Even the madam of the brothel thought it was risky. Her abilities to disguise Y/N would disappear if Kid found her out and said her name. There were times that Y/N feared that he had in that small room. If he ever found out…
“But he won’t. He can’t,” She whispered as she put the jar back on the shelf. Y/N took a deep breath and went back to the women's quarters.
#eustass kid smut#eustass x reader#eustass kid#one piece x reader#eustass captain kidd#kid x reader#kid x you#eustass kid one piece#kidd one piece#one piece fanfiction#op fanfic#one piece smut#captain kid x reader
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Indecent Proposal (18.2)
Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.
Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader
Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff
Indecent Proposal (18)
Indecent Proposal masterlist
Licking your lips, watch Bucky and Steve emerge from the shower. They chose to wear nothing but a smirk while parading around the bedroom.
“So…are we going to get down and dirty or what is the surprise you were talking about before bending me over the bed to eat my coochie,” you wink at Steve who was all over you this morning.
You whistle when Bucky steps toward the bed to cup your face and press a soft kiss to your temple. “Aw, doll. You are so needy and pretty this morning. If only we had more time.”
“Buck, we should get ready. The stylist will be here any moment and our pretty princess is still in her pajamas.”
You pout. “I’m not in my pajamas,” you push the covers off of your body. “I’m naked.” You smirk and wink at Steve. “Just like you.”
“Stevie, she’s so naughty,” Bucky grins devilishly. “Doll, I swear. If we had more time, I’d kill that pretty pussy and ass with my tongue and cock.”
“Buck, not now,” Steve tuts. His features darken for a second, remembering the things Jake revealed to them last night. “We have more important things to do. And we need to talk about a few things later. But first…”
“It’s time for our surprise,” Bucky chuckles. “Get out of bed, Y/N. You need a shower too. We will be waiting to send the stylist in.”
You blink a few times. Why do you need a stylist? Is there a special occasion you forgot about? Crap, maybe it’s the wedding anniversary and they want you to celebrate with them.
The dress the stylist brought is a dream. No. It’s more than that. Never in your life did you wear something so beautiful and elegant.
You feel like a princess or a queen. Maybe you are.
Because Steve and Bucky make you feel like you’re one in a million. Not just a random woman they can use for their pleasure and toss on the street.
“How do you like it?” The stylist asks. She pushes her looks out of her face while looking you up and down. Her cheeks dimple and she claps her hands. "Not to brag but I outdid myself with that dress!"
“I love the soft fabric,” you run your fingertips over the floral print and smile. The dress is playful, just like you. The bohemian vibe of the flowy maxi dress in a floral print was Bucky’s choice, and you love him for it.
“You look very pretty,” she says and points toward the jewelry on the bed. “We only need to decide on the jewelry you want to wear.”
“Something simple, I think,” you point at the rose pendant in rose gold with a single purple-pink diamond, matching your light rose dress. “I want the dress to impress.” You chuckle at your bad rhyme. “I mean…it’s beautiful and speaks for itself.”
“You’ll look beautiful, and they will love it,” she coos. “Aw, this is so exciting.” She claps her hands. “Let’s take their breath away, sweetie.”
“Doll…wow!” Bucky and Steve gasp when you walk inside the ballroom. “You look stunning.”
“We got us a good one,” Bucky jokes before he takes your left hand to kiss it. “Right, Stevie?”
“Beautiful,” Steve takes your other hand and presses a soft kiss on your knuckles. “And stunning.”
“What is going on here?” You look at both men. They’re wearing black tuxedos, today, and matching bow ties. “Steve? Bucky?”
“You’re our beautiful and pregnant fiancé. Today, we want to make it official. Even though polyamorous marriage is not legal, we want to make you our wife. You’re our third. The missing piece we were looking for,” Bucky softly says.
“You’re not only the mother of our babies, but the queen sitting between her kings,” Steve smirks that irresistible smirk. “What do you say?”
“Will you give us the honor to become our naughty vixen?” Bucky throws in. “Will you let us eat that pretty pussy for the rest of our lives?”
Steve makes a face. “What I wanted to say was that we’d be honored if you would agree to become our wife.”
“YES!” You wink at Bucky. “And I want to become your wife too,” you purr in Steve’s direction. “I’m not wearing this dress for nothing.”
Tags in reblog.
#bucky barnes#steve rogers#stucky x reader#stucky x female reader#x reader#female reader#mafia au#tw: pregnant reader#stucky x you
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Old Deadpool comics are so fun because it's like having this weird close friend group where people kind of all know each other but don't really know each other. Or even like each other that much.
Like Wade has a kind-of-who-knows-at-this-point "Best" friend tech guy who kind of tolerates him and he tolerates that used to be Peter's college classmate. He almost took a gig from Osborn but actually was Bullseye fucking with him in revenge while dressed up in a Clint old suit. He got on a mission with Black Widow. He got beef with Avengers clones to a point the avengers themselves got to be involved. They don't like him he doesn't like them so they both agree to be civil to do the damn mission so everyone can go their own way. He's having a middle age crisis where he kind of wants to quit being a mercenary but he doesn't know yet who the fuck else he could be and all the reasons pointing up to be a hero are wrong and distorted in his own egoistic views.
A hit monkey want to fuckin kill him. The hit monkey doesn't know he's immortal. The hit-monkey never saw him personally but somehow set him up to get his jaw sucker punched by Spider-Man. Which results in the worst team ever for both of them. I sweat to god except from fucking Old man Logan, I've never seen Wade so stressed in working with someone. And while this whole shit storm works, Wade keeps bullshitting about Peter's life being so fucking easy and loved by the public and Peter has to stay there and listen to it. They bump into each other on the subway out of costume and Peter hates him on sight.
Wade doesn't want to be there and the first opportunity to bail on Spider-Man he takes it and Spider-Man on the other hand learns that Deadpool is immortal and kind of gets "Okay what if we let you get shot" and Wade is so offended he starts calling him names.
Wade goes to bother X-Men, X-men tells him to fuck off. Wade considers blowing up X-Men for full two panels. X-Men sends Domino who's kind of one of Wade's friend to fuck with Deadpool, we're convinced by two pages he beat the shit out of her, just to show up on the next pages that he actually made her fall over a bunch of pancakes.
It's so messy, it's so fucking funny because it's not "oh it's this BIG THING" and this "BIG TEAM UP" it's like they're on the same city, they have similar jobs of course they're going to bump on each other.
#Deadpool#q rambles#Deadpool 2008#aalso is very early 2008 so unfortunately it has a lot of bullshit it's auch a fucking shame Deadpool writers#are to busy trying to reinvent him or making the 7th fourth wall breaking joke and brining concepts that have no fucking sense to his canno#instead of just taking the good stuf and old background characters and make something good out of it#I only forgive Mx Wong for actually writing him in an endeared way but if I could nuke the monster's arc bullshit of his cannon I'd so do i#I'd so do it#HE'S JUST A GUY#HE'S JUST A MERCENARY#LET HIM BE A MERCENARY#FUCK SAKE#“oh kind of the monsters–” I'm taking your pen I am taking your pen right now I al breaking your computer WHO THE FUCK got this idea from#the kind of rejected X-Men kind of fucked around and find out random mercenary of new york city and canada#and whatever else place that pays the best
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Ask about their manhood size Headcanon (Overwatch)
Headcanon for my beloved masked men from Overwatch. What lies between them?
NSFW Content. MDNI.
Reaper
Gabriel just sighs when he hears the question. He pretends to have heard nothing from you. That is when you thought there would be no hope to learn more about his sexual information.
But once both of you are in a private area, Gabriel will look around to make sure there are no guards and no surveillance cameras around.
He then takes off his pants and undresses the remaining part that hides his shaft.
Reaper does have a decent one down there. 7.5 inches long, curvy up, and veiny.
There is not much pubic hair since his body has gone through many experiments.
His cock is twitching and leaking a clear, sticky liquid when you move your hand softly over his shaft. This is evidence that it must have been a very long time since he last did, and you were right.
"When I tried to do it myself, the pain always killed me, but not when I was with you." Gabriel said it with his shadowy voice, though his mask
"Can you help me with that?" This is probably the first time he asks for your help. And you are here to assist him through it.
Genji
Genji does not hesitate to answer that question instantly. He used to be a playboy in Hanamura. Having someone ask about what to expect down there means he will soon get a pleasant night for free.
"I used to have 5 inches." He answered, "But Doctor Ziegler gave me something new after I was resurrected by her."
That is when you realized Genji lost most of his body parts after that tragic incident.
But Doctor Ziegler does some miracle work here.
A prostatic cock is made from carbon fiber and metal, similar to most of his body. The shape is almost like a real one. That should be somewhere around 7 inches long.
"You know... It has been awhile since the last time I had intimate time with someone," he murmured.
His metal sheet moved closer to your face. Your hands were guided by his, touching his shaft. Both of your bodies are getting so close that you can feel each other's warmth.
You can feel your heart race, and the heartbeats of yours and his match perfectly.
Ramattra
Ramattra was annoyed when you asked him about that. He always declines to say that he has such a thing since it has nothing to do with his main intention.
It turns out your gut is right. Ramattra does actually have that thing down there.
"I cannot fathom what makes humans like you curious about Ominic's private part. This is your new low for you, pet." He said that while crossing his arm. His shaft points directly to your face, only half a foot away.
10 inches long, 7 inches girth, made with carbon fiber, flexible plastic, some wires, and special gelatin. It glows purple, too.
"I implemented this part myself after I left the monastery. I enjoy having some self-relief after a long-fought battle to reduce my stress," he explained.
It is not that big. You just said that to taunt him for fun, but Ramattra definitely did not take that as a joke.
"Did I just hear a challenge? from a weak human like you?" He snorted. His eyes contact your small body.
That is when you see him turn himself into a Nemesis form.
And yes, his manhood also turns into a Nemesis form as well.
"You better be ready for what I have in store for you, pet," he growled. His strong robotic hand grips your hip tightly, with no hope of escape.
Let us pray that you can survive the night despite what is going on inside you.
#overwatch#reaper x reader#genji x reader#ramattra x reader#x male reader#reaper#genji#ramattra#reaper x male reader#genji x male reader#ramattra x male reader#ow#ow2
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Character: Sukuna
Theme: Pirate Ship
Spice: NSFW (I wanna SMELL the smut)
Mood: Dark with flickers of ligt
Kinks: Beautiful shy virgin reader, size difference, a bit of pain, bondage, a bit of spanking, a sprinkle of non-con
Please and Thank you
The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Mentions of suicide. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!
Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be two (possibly three) parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!
Relentless cannon fire from above leaves your ears ringing as you cower below deck with the other passengers. This was supposed to be an uneventful trip to the island, where you intended to take a job as a maid for a rich noble. The voyage should have lasted four days, but two days in, this happens.
This being a pirate attack. The crew of the ship you’re on commanded all the passengers to hide below deck while they tried to outrun the pirate ship that was rapidly approaching, last you saw. In the dark of night, the pitch black sails of the massive ship were terrifying in the flashes of light from the cannons.
Now you can only tremble as you and the others cling to each other, listening to the sounds of men shouting and cursing above. Cannon fire gives way to rifle and pistol fire, and that can only mean one thing: the pirates have boarded.
A fight breaks out. You can hear bodies falling, people screaming. The woman beside you is crying. “It’ll be alright,” you tell her, trying to force a smile onto your face. “They might just take our money and belongings and leave.” It certainly isn’t unheard of.
She gives you a pitying stare. “They’ll kill us all. Well, maybe not you, with your looks. But you’ll probably wish you were dead.”
You’re not stupid. You know how this will most likely play out. But you were trying to comfort her, to give her a little bit of hope. You wish she’d done the same for you. Maybe then your hands would stop shaking.
The door leading up to the deck is suddenly ripped open, making several passengers scream in alarm. Two unfamiliar men with guns climb down.
“All of you, get up there,” one of them says, waving his rifle around and pointing toward the deck.
Like lambs marching off to be slaughtered, you and the other passengers grimly climb the rickety wooden steps to reach the deck. What you find is a nightmare come to life.
Bodies litter the whole ship. Blood has splattered everywhere. The captain of your vessel is being held by two brawny pirates, their swords at his throat. He’s covered in bloody gashes and has a black eye, his regal looking coat ripped and dirty.
Many of the pirates are holding torches, so many that the deck is well lit. You look around in stunned silence, your eyes shifting from one horror show to the next until you and the rest of the passengers are all lined up single file. Then several pirates step behind the line and begin tying everyone’s wrists behind their backs. The man tying yours gropes your ass through your dress, making you squirm.
Once everyone is tied up, one of the pirates yells out, “All ready for you, Capn’!”
Another man, standing close to the passengers, says, “Look lively! Captain Sukuna’s boarding the ship!”
At the sound of the captain’s name, you feel your heart sink down your body, settling somewhere in your feet. Some of your fellow passengers cry out in despair. One woman, in a panic, breaks the line. She runs straight to the side of the ship and throws herself overboard. You understand why she did it.
Captain Ryomen Sukuna is notorious for his cruelty, for his complete lack of mercy when it comes to women, whom he treats just as (if not more) brutally as he does men. You’re still haunted by stories you’ve heard about the bodies found on ships he’s plundered. Women and men alike stripped and skewered, cut into chunks, ripped apart. There were even rumors that he ate some of his victims!
Naturally, you’ve never seen him before. His wanted posters only have his name and a vague description: a tall, muscular man with black tattoos all over his body. That could describe a lot of pirates.
But now, you’re about to get a crystal clear image of him. You hear heavy footsteps walking across the deck from behind you, and then he finally steps around the line of passengers and comes into view.
The words “tall” and “muscular” do not do him justice. He’s huge, with broad shoulders and a chiseled torso visible beneath the white shirt unbuttoned to his waist. You can also see the lines of black tattoos, on his face and chest, drawing your eye toward his toned abdomen. He has pink hair, slicked back away from his face, and intense red eyes.
Something about his appearance captivates you, makes it impossible for you to tear your eyes away. He’s objectively handsome, in a rugged, masculine way. But he’s also terrifying. You can almost feel the bloodlust radiating off him.
He begins walking down the line, stopping in front of a pretty young woman to look her over. “This one,” he says, and another pirate pulls her out of the line, dragging her off to the side to wait. Sukuna continues, occasionally pausing to regard a woman. “This one,” he says again, and another lady is dragged over to stand beside the first one.
When he reaches you, he stops and faces you, his eyes roaming up and down your form. Your heart is racing, your breaths coming fast and shallow. There’s a hunger in his expression as his gaze burns into you, lingering on your heaving chest. “This one,” he says, red eyes glinting in the light of the torches, a grin on his face.
A pirate pulls you from the line and shoves you over to stand with the other two women as Sukuna continues his walk. In the end, you and six other women are chosen. You all huddle together, still bound, while Sukuna turns to his crew. “Take care of the rest!”
At those words, a frenzy of violence begins. You can only watch in horror as the rest of the passengers are stripped of all clothing and belongings, the women screaming at the indignity, and then systematically murdered by the pirates. Most are stabbed with swords or daggers, some have their throats slit, and a few are simply thrown overboard.
The woman you spoke to below deck cries out as a pirate stabs her repeatedly in the stomach. You close your eyes, no longer able to bear the sight of so much spilled blood.
It’s almost as if you’re in a daze as you and the other six women are taken over to Sukuna’s ship. There’s no fight in you, no hope. Your arms are tied behind you and you’re totally surrounded by large, armed pirates. There’s no chance of escape. You can guess why you seven were chosen, and you’re starting to wonder if you should throw yourself overboard like the desperate woman you saw earlier. Death by drowning would be preferable to the fate that awaits you.
Sukuna walks over to the group of terrified women and points directly at you. “Take her to my quarters. You men can share the others.”
The men cheer and the women scream. You look over at Sukuna, and your eyes meet his. Again, he gives you a grin, and the look on his face says it all: this man is going to enjoy destroying you.
You’re dragged down a small set of stairs and through a heavy wooden door. You find yourself in a lavish cabin, full of rich furnishings like a glossy wooden dresser and deep red velvet blankets on a huge bed. There are lanterns lit all around the room, giving it an opulent atmosphere. It smells of fresh wood and sea breeze and some sort of incense.
You only have a few minutes alone before the door swings open and the captain walks in. He closes the door behind him, sealing your fate, then shrugs off his long black coat. He’s left in black leather pants that fit him a little too well and the thin white shirt that’s mostly unbuttoned. You’ve never seen a man with such a well built body before, and it almost distracts you from the terror you feel at being alone in a room with this monster.
He looks at you, eyes freely drinking in your entire body. “I’m sure you know what’s going to happen to you,” he says, standing a few feet away, “but just in case you’re stupid, I’ll make it clear. We’ve got a two week voyage ahead of us, and you’re going to be my entertainment. If you don’t please me, I’ll toss you to the crew to be passed around until you die.”
You shiver, tears welling up in your eyes. How are you supposed to keep him pleased? You’ve never even touched a man in a sexual way before.
He steps closer, and you step further back, shying away from him. He looks slightly annoyed. “Did you understand what I said, woman?”
You sniffle, trying to hold back your tears. With your hands behind your back, you can’t even wipe your eyes. You’ve truly never been so helpless. “I… I understand,” you finally say, afraid of angering him. “It’s just… I’ve never…”
His eyes seem to glow with excitement. “Oh? An innocent maiden? In my quarters? You’re like a baby lamb that’s been thrown to the wolves.” He laughs and moves closer. You’re frozen to the spot, remembering his annoyed expression when you stepped back before. When he’s right in front of you, you’re again struck by just how tall he is. He completely dwarfs you. This close, you can feel his body heat, can smell the heady mix of blood and sea water on his skin.
You’re terrified. You want nothing more than to flee, even though you have no idea where you could possibly flee to. But your eyes keep being drawn to those tattoos trailing down his torso, disappearing below his belt. “Please,” you say in a small quivering voice, “if only the first time… please don’t hurt me.”
That frightening grin spreads over his mouth again as one large hand moves up to touch your teary face. “My poor little maiden, I’m going to hurt you. And I’m going to enjoy hurting you.”
You draw in quick shuddering breaths as tears streak your face, drizzling over his fingers, your eyes large and glassy as you stare up at him.
His hand moves down to your neck as his other hand rests on your shoulder. “I’m going to thoroughly break you, split you in two on my cock, make you scream until your throat is raw and bloody. Well, more than just your throat will be raw and bloody.”
Your body is shaking with held back sobs. How could he be so cruel? But you don’t have time to think more on it, because his hands are suddenly on the front of your dress. In one savage motion, he rips it completely open with his bare hands, totally exposing you down to your waist.
******************
Sukuna laughs as the sweet little maiden shrieks and draws back away from him, trying to turn her body to hide her nakedness. With her arms bound, she can’t even try to cover herself. He grabs her shoulder and forces her to face him, drinking in the sight of her bare, heaving breasts. It’s been a while since he’s had a woman so shapely, so perfectly formed to his taste. He can’t wait to see the rest of her.
Wasting no time, he tears the rest of her dress off, as well as her thin undergarments. She’s left cowering before him, trembling, trying to clamp her legs shut. How adorable.
Ah, such a lovely, delicate little flower, just ripe enough for him to pluck. But he doesn’t just want to pluck her. He wants to take this beautiful, tender blossom and grind it into powder.
With one hand he grips her chin and lifts her face up, forcing her to look at him. Nothing arouses him more than a pretty face wet with tears, terrified eyes peering up at him, quivering lips unable to even form words.
The thought of destroying this pure, innocent creature has him rock hard.
His hand moves to the side of her face, his thumb tracing over her plump lips. Her eyes shift down, and he realizes this has happened multiple times since he entered the room. What does she keep looking at? What could be so distracting in a moment like this? He follows her gaze, and it leads to his chest, the tattoos clearly visible beneath his unbuttoned shirt.
Is she… staring at his body? A virgin that’s about to be violated is distracted by his tattoos? Oh, this is delicious!
He releases his hold on her and steps back, then pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside. As he suspected, her eyes widen as they roam over the black ink lining his torso. Her lips part and the fear on her face gradually shifts to something else.
“See something that interests you?” he asks, smirking at her.
She shakes her head, looking embarrassed. “N-no!”
His hands move to his belt, and she watches as he unbuckles it, then opens his pants. He hears her breath hitch slightly when she sees that the tattoos continue down, and when he pulls his fully erect cock out, she lets out a small scream.
Sukuna grins to himself. He’s certainly used to women screaming when they see it for the first time. He’s very aware of the fact that his cock is unusually large. To her virgin eyes, it probably looks like a beast ready to attack her.
The fear has returned to her face, and it makes him want to ravage her immediately. He looks at her lovely mouth, at her lips as soft as rose petals, and pushes her down to her knees in front of him.
********************
You’re so scared you can’t even speak as Captain Sukuna forces you to your knees, his monstrously huge rod right in front of your face. It terrifies you, but even it has two black lines tattooed around the base of it, demanding your attention.
“Open your mouth,” he commands, and you hesitantly obey.
The tip of his meaty cock touches your tongue. “If you bite,” he says, staring down into your eyes, “I’ll rip every tooth out of your head and then fill your bloody mouth with my cum. Do you understand?”
You’re afraid to nod your head, afraid to move at all, so you murmur out, “Mmhmm.”
That’s all he needs to hear before he shoves himself into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag and choke. He pulls out slightly, then shoves in again, going partially down your now sore throat. He repeats this, in and out, mercilessly fucking your mouth as tears flood your eyes. You barely get a chance to breathe when he pulls back, and at some point he grips your hair, holding your head steady.
“You’re not trying to please me at all,” he says, frowning down at you. “Use your tongue, your lips, your whole mouth. I’m not stopping until you make me cum.”
Fresh tears sting your eyes. This torment will keep going? You look up at him pleadingly, hoping he’ll have mercy on you. He has to know you’ve never done this before. But he just keeps thrusting ruthlessly into your throat.
When he pulls back again, you press your lips tightly around his shaft, slowing his motion. This gives you the chance to lap at his tip with your tongue. You taste a salty, sticky fluid, and feel it smear around the inside of your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, and you whimper around his cock as he continues thrusting, just a little slower so that he can rub your tongue with his leaking tip.
Your jaw is aching, your throat raw, but you keep your tongue moving, trying your best to please him. It feels like it goes on forever before he finally pulls out most of the way, leaving only the tip inside. Then he shoots his hot, gooey load onto your tongue, filling your mouth. Your first instinct is to spit it out, you’re already gagging after all. But you know that would anger him, so you force it down, letting the thick gobs slide down your throat.
When done, he finally removes his cock from your mouth, leaving you panting for air, your lips bruised and trembling. You look up to find him grinning down at you. “So?” He asks, his tone mocking. “Ready for me to shove this into that little virgin pussy of yours?”
“No, please! You’ll break me!” you cry, trying to scurry away from him.
He grabs one of your bound arms and jerks you to your feet, not caring how much he hurts you. He pulls you to him, forcing your bare body against his. He’s so very firm, so rock solid. His appearance is so alluring to you, his self assured attitude so attractive, if you had met him under different circumstances, you would have slept with him willingly.
“I’m going to shatter you,” he says, crimson eyes shimmering, “tear you apart, crush you into dust. But don’t worry, I’ll keep you alive until I’ve had my fill of you.”
You shudder in his arms, your eyes still full of tears. He steps toward his bed, dragging you with him by the arm. He throws you onto it, on your back. With your hands still tied behind you, the position is highly uncomfortable. He pulls off his pants, kicking them aside and standing beside the bed for a moment, giving you a clear view of how the black lines circle his muscular thighs. Once again, they almost distract you from your terror.
But it returns full force when he climbs onto the bed and shoves your quivering legs apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to the side, feeling your whole body heat up with embarrassment. No man has looked upon you this way before.
“It’s no fun fucking sandpaper,” he tells you. “So let’s get this pussy wet.”
Your eyes snap open in alarm when you feel his large, warm hands on your spread open inner thighs, rubbing upward. His thumbs reach your soft folds and part your flesh, the cool air of the room hitting your most private place. You hear him chuckle, and you glance at his face. He’s smiling so smugly. “Are you sure you’re a virgin? You’re already dripping.”
You feel shame immediately fall over you. In a panic, you try to rise up. “What? No! I’m not! I-“
Suddenly his thumb rubs over your clit, and you forget how to form words. You inhale a sharp breath, trying vainly to scoot away from his touch. He keeps rubbing, and you can feel your own wetness smearing around. Your body has betrayed you.
Humiliated, you close your eyes again, wishing you could at least wipe your tears. The motion of his thumb intensifies, his nail scraping over your delicate nub, and your body jerks. You’ve never felt this way before, never felt such electric pleasure.
You hear his smooth voice. “Already a whore for me before I even make you my woman.”
A pitiful sob escapes you. Reflexively, your legs try to close, but he’s between them, holding them far apart. The shameful pleasure builds and builds, your body shaking, and just when it feels like something is about to break loose, he suddenly stops.
You lie there panting, not knowing if you’re thankful or disappointed that he moved his hand away. But then his hands slide under your hips, and pull your lower body into his lap. You can feel the weight of his heavy cock on your pussy, can feel its heat.
He moves it so that it’s pointing directly at your entrance. You rise up as best you can to look him in the eyes. “Please… don’t!”
But he grins again, enjoying your fear, your desperation. You were foolish to think this monster has any mercy within him. He doesn’t give you a chance to prepare, even to take a deep breath, before he ruthlessly shoves his entire cock inside you.
You scream, the pain blinding as he tears into you, slamming into your cervix on the first thrust. It feels like he’s ripping you apart. You feel something warm and wet coming out of you, and realize it must be blood. At that moment, you genuinely fear he’s going to kill you.
He quickly begins moving, thrusting in and out, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise them. You look at his face, at the pleasure evident in his eyes, and it horrifies you. Turning your face to the side, you try to block it all out, his cock invading your body, his hands upon you, his toned, tattooed body hovering over yours.
All you can do is whimper and cry as he takes you, trying your best to hold back your sobs so that he doesn’t enjoy this even more. Your body feels like it’s on fire, but you’re completely helpless to stop him.
“Hey,” you hear him say, his fingers squeezing your hip harshly, “don’t fade out. Stay focused. You’re under me right now, my cock is inside you.”
This cruel beast won’t even allow you the luxury of blocking this all out! He’s keeping you in the moment, making sure you’re aware of everything that’s happening.
One of his hands moves down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. Your body spasms with pleasure as he rubs circles into it, bringing you back to the edge you were on earlier.
You shake your head. “No, please… stop!”
He ignores your pleas, rubbing relentlessly, making your breath hitch and your legs tremble. You look down, your eyes drawn to the way his muscles flex and move beneath his skin, the way his strong hands hold you, and you can’t resist any longer.
The pleasure explodes within you, spreading from your core out to the ends of your limbs, leaving you gasping. Above you, Sukuna laughs.
“A virgin cumming while being raped? I made an excellent choice tonight!”
You try to ignore his cruel taunts, just feeling the pleasure of your orgasm. It’s the only thing dulling the pain. Because Sukuna keeps fucking you, hard and rough, until your pleasure fades and you finally feel him stiffen inside you. He presses in deep enough to make you see stars, and then you feel his hot cum filling your womb.
****************
Sukuna eventually pulls out of the maiden, leaving her sprawled out in his bed, too exhausted and sore to even close her legs. She pants, her lovely breasts heaving, as blood and cum leak out of her. She’s crying softly, turning her face away from him.
She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on, like a rare jewel. So soft and fragile, it only makes him want to defile her even more, to ruin her even more.
Fortunately for her, that was the best fuck he’s had in years. The way her pussy clenched his cock when she came, the way her body trembled against him… it was exquisite. He’ll definitely keep her alive for a while longer.
#sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#x reader#candys2kevent#sukuna x you
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"The Curious Couple And Their Unruly Son" a rdr2 fanfiction.
A short rdr2 fanfiction about how the phrase "the curi couple and their unruly couple" came from.
Sean MacGuire was an annoying little shit of a teenager, his orange hair stuck out to every side no matter how much Grimshaw fought to keep it kempt, heck it was even worse than when Marston joined, however that was possible. Those two were actually scarily similar, not only in their weird hair and their rough exterior, but also in their loud mouths. John was just a bit more foul than Sean was.
Arthur disliked them both, not specifically for their loud mouth but for their attitudes. John was fifteen and had just started going on jobs with them, simple ones, the ones where Dutch and Hosea knew they would be able to save the situation even with John messing something up. Sean was thirteen and wanted nothing more than to go out on jobs with them, jobs that he no doubt would mess up and get himself killed in, or worse one of the others trying to save him.
That was the problem with many of the children that they took in, they thought just because they used to steal they were professionals at it, they weren’t and the fact they didn’t realize it themselves from the amount of bruises they had gotten proved their low intelligence. Especially Sean had gotten many beatings and Hosea was fiercely trying to teach him how to properly steal, it was not going great, which was the reason why he was being left behind in camp when Arthur, Hosea and Dutch were preparing their trip into town for some petty theft and to get an overview over the people in the area.
“Why won’t you let me go?” Sean complained as Arthur tightened his horse’s girth and gave it a scratch. “Come on! I can steal plenty fine!”
“Not without getting caught!” Arthur replied in annoyance as he snatched back the watch that Sean had fished out of his pocket quite poorly while he had saddled. “And we do not want to draw attention to ourselves.”
“I have gotten out alright so far,” Sean huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t dead.”
“Yet,” Arthur groaned. “You ain’t dead yet, you have been damn lucky. What if it hadn’t been Hosea or Dutch in that alley? What if it had been someone else you had followed out to rob? You would have been dead then! I sure would have put a bullet in your skull.”
“You are scared I will take your place as the son, aren’t you?” Sean asked, half teasingly, half mockingly, as he leaned against the hitching pole.
Arthur raised a confused brow. “What are you even talking about?”
“Oh nothin’, just you the whole thing you, Hosea and Dutch got goin’ on.”
“What thing?” Arthur asked as he leaned against his horse.
“The curious couple and their unruly son.”
Arthur gave an unimpressed look. “We ain’t acting like that, we are just working.”
Sean shrugged. “Oh well, you know my da used to-”
“Not the da!” Arthur exclaimed at the same time as John who passed by at that moment, placing the saddle he had been holding on the hitching post next to Arthur’s.
“You don’t even know what we are talking about!” Sean said to John who whistled at his horse to come over from where it stood grazing not far out of camp.
“I don’t need to, you and your da is getting annoying real quick,” Marston replied as he put the rope halter on his horse.
“Well Marston now you are here,” Sean glanced teasingly at Arthur. “If I was to say the curious couple and their unruly son, who would I be talking about?”
“Arthur and the old men,” John replied without even looking at them. “Pretty much acts like a married couple and their adopted kid.”
Arthur sighed. “We don’t, they are my mentors just as they are yours, I have just known them longer.”
John snorted.
“How are you getting along?” Dutch asked as he came over and placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Are you ready to go? Me and Hosea have saddled the old boys up over by the tent, oh yeah, Annabelle is mad at me again so she and Bessie are sharing Hosea and hers tent so he is with me.” He patted Arthur’s shoulder again and looked over to John. “John, go with Susan into town today, will you?”
“What? No! I don’t want to! It is boring!” John groaning slightly in annoyance as Dutch merely returned his attention to Arthur, knowing to ignore the tantrums.
“Come over when you are done son, we are waiting,” Dutch gave Arthur a small chuckled before leaving the boys alone again.
“Married couple and their adopted son,” John repeated again.
“You are seeing things,” Arthur spat.
“Or maybe you are just stupid,” John stuck out his tongue at Arthur.
---
Based on a little convo I had with @wobblesthecowgirl
#john marston#rdr john#rdr2#rdr2 community#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 john#red dead redemption 2#sean macguire#rdr2 sean#hosea matthews#rdr2 hosea#dutch van der linde#rdr2 dutch#rdr2 arthur#arthur morgan#red dead redemption community#red dead fandom#red dead redemption two
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PART 5 Wasteland heat
Cooper Howard(The Ghoul) x reader
Warnings: violence, gore, blood, AOB, heats, smut, claiming, biting, angst, nicknames, power dynamics, language, mentions of cannibalism, needles, experiments. Fallout is actually really fucked up XD, chubby reader, sexual assault
Previous part <-
You manage to calm down from your panic attack even after he moves away too quickly for your liking. Lucy is there instead, your body sagging into hers wondering if she’s affected by any of this heat stuff. She gives you some canned food she found, some precious filtered water and turns on the TV. The Ghoul is around somewhere, you can hear crashes every now and then in different parts of the place. You fall asleep a few times, mind in and out, haziness coating your thoughts. You’re sweating horribly and you feel disgusting everywhere and apologise to Lucy for leaning on her.
You don’t hear the people come in till you see them, men with guns and rather nice looking clothes. They look at the dead bodies then to you and Lucy with raised eyebrows before looking behind you.
“This here was a legitimate business!” The one with the silver badge says.
“Was it now?” The ghoul says rather close behind you.
“Killing a legitimate business is illegal round these parts” the man continues.
“Says who?” The ghoul asks.
“The government” the man spits guns aimed and you three. You weakly put your hands up while Lucy’s shoot up in mild panic.
“Easy, don’t shoot, we’ve had a rough few days ok, my sister here she isn’t well, these men were horrible!” She tries to banter her way out but the men in front of you all look to you and smirk.
“I bet she’s had a rough few days” you don’t understand the smirk, the uneasy feeling you get in your stomach. There’s a growl behind you and the ghoul shoots one dead before you can blink. You fall on the ground when the shots continue, you scurry behind the couch, feel a hand grabbed yours waist and haul you to them. The ghoul hands you a gun without a word and glances back up, firing a few shots.
“Sweetheart I know you’re feeling rough, but right now I need you to shoot or we ain’t getting out of this alive” his words send your brain into over drive and you peer out the side and begin shooting, hitting one in the leg. You can’t see Lucy though and hear her call for you. You snap your head seeing her caught by one of the men, gun aimed at her head and you lower your gun.
“Drop ‘em!” The lead man says and you lower your gun watching them back out slowly, knocking Lucy unconscious. You feel helpless, you’re practically lying on the floor with your hands up as they disappear out the building. A sob leaves your lips as tears fall down your face you make a fist and hit the floor, regretting it instantly.
“Hey, listen to me” you glance back to the ghoul.
“She’s strong, she’ll survive” he says and you glare before looking away. You pick up the gun and struggle to stand ignoring the ghouls calls as you stumble after the group and out into the heat. The suns gone down, you can’t see them or much of anything. You let out a cry of annoyance throw the gun in anger before almost collapsing. A sturdy arm goes around your upper chest, bringing you back against a warm sturdy body and you sag.
“FUCK!” You yell trying to let out some pent up feelings.
“Easy” the ghoul mutters behind you and you want to punch him for it.
“You’re going through the high, it’ll ease” he adds and you curse him.
“I don’t like that attitude omega” his voice lowers, not the same soft one he used before, this one holds edge, this one holds a command and you shudder at its hold.
“Good girl” he whispers and a whine leaves your throat.
“What’s happening to me?” You whisper feeling on the edge of tears again.
“The wastelands happen” he answers.
“What did they do to me?” You add thinking he might know what your vault did.
“I don’t know darlin’ vaults all kind of fucked up” he says as you feel your breathing slow and your heart rate go down.
“What’s going on with my body?” You feel like he has all the answers even if he doesn’t, the steady hold he’s got around you feels like a life line.
“Why do you smell good?” You add eyes drooping and he chuckles.
“I smell like dust, death and blood” he says and you hum.
“And alpha” you mumble listening to the low growl he lets out.
“In the vault everyone’s genetically altered to be the better biology, alphas and omegas are pretty much just betas only stronger for breeding, the betas are usually the ones who do all the work while the omegas and alphas are used for breeding” you babble out mind barely registering his words.
“I never was though” you frown.
“They injected me, experimented on me, I had so many surgery’s, ones I was awake for too” his hold tightens and his breathing stills at your words.
“I wanted Lucy’s life, to grow up and do all the activities in the vault, I only got to because my father was overseer, even if he wasn’t my real father, but he made me do those experiments” you bite the inside of your cheek.
“Lucy would come see me at night when we were 18-19 after she’d fooled around with one of the males in the vault, the way she explained it ‘fucking’ it didn’t sound good, enjoyable yet I felt like I was missing out, even my brother Norm knew what it was” you swear his body tensed even more.
“You said I needed to be fucked” you muttered listening to him swallow dryly.
“Would you?” You add and he flinches. You turn around in his hold and his eyes stare down at you, even in the moonlight you can make them out. You rub your thighs together enjoying the feeling it gives and his eyes dart down briefing, his jaw cocking in response.
“I won’t” he says voice gravely and low and you feel something snap in your stomach.
“Not here” he adds.
“Inside?” You mumble.
“Not inside” he shakes his head and you sag and hang your head.
“I can bring you relief someway else” you perk up and look at him as his hand slips down your arm and holds your wrist. He tugs you back inside, letting you go once you follow him. The lights are dim inside but you can still see everything. He’s tenser than usual, stride uneven and you feel panic well up inside you. He sits on the recliner after taking off his gun belt and bandolier. He motions his fingers in a come here motion and you frown but follow to stand a meter in front of him. Your mind is blank and the heat between your thighs is burning.
“Take off your suit” he points to your suit and you hesitate.
“I won’t ask again sweetheart” his voice makes you shudder and you step out of the too short jumpsuit and fold it up on the ground neatly. You’re left in your black tight shorts and white tank top that now has a hole and blood on it.
“How’s it feel?” He flicks his finger up towards you and you rest a hand over your bandage.
“Ok” you muttered not really remembering you got shot, not wanting to remember what’s happened.
“Come ‘ere” he says patting his thigh and you tilt your head slightly and walk closer. You tilts his head when you stop about 30 centimetres away from him.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but like I said darlin” he tugs you on the wrist and forces you in his lap with a quick swift move.
“I ain’t asking again” his voice is low in your ear, his breath hot as you nod and whisper your apologies. He smirks up at you and you notice now he has small eyelashes sticking out unevenly around his eyes. It makes you smile briefly and you lift your hand up to touch his face. He’s quicker and grabs your wrist in a tight hold making you flinch and apologise. There’s a flash in his eyes again a different vulnerability and his hand fall. You take a small breath trying to clench your thighs together but only clench his legs instead. His lip twitches upwards at that and you feel your cheeks redden before you rest a hand on his face. It makes him freeze, makes his eyes go a little wide as you gently run your finger tips over his rough face. There’s nothing in your head at the moment, blissed out by the warmth he’s giving under you, the solid body he has, the smell he has, it makes your brain malfunction. Your mind flicks back to what’s happen and panic sets in and he sees it, hand griping your jaw between thumb and forefinger.
“You’re not gon’ make it far if I don’t do this” he says and you frown.
“Do what?” You ask and he glances briefly behind you before hard chapped lips are on yours. You freeze up unsure of what to do before your body takes over and you’re pressing into him more, hands cupping the dust jacket he wears. His mouth is rough against yours and you make a small noise feeling his tongue swipe over your lips before you open your mouth. He growls and presses closer, hands on your hips and grinding you into him. It brings sweet friction against your clothed heat and you role your hips again. His tongue easily takes over yours, he tastes like whatever drugs he’s inhaled and took. Your hips keep grinding against him, feeling him hard against you too. He’s lifting you up easily from the couch making you pull back with a startled gasp before he growls and kisses you again before dropping you both on the couch. You moan again taking off his hat and lying it on the top of the couch. You want clothes off, you need to feel him against you. You go for his dust jacket and he snarls against your lips, blunt teeth biting on your bottom lip. It makes you stop and whimper.
“You ain’t seeing me like this” he says breathlessly and you feel pathetic at the noise that leaves you.
“Greedy omega” he grumbles forcefully kissing you again as you feel his hand go under your waistband and slip under your underwear. You don’t remember him taking his gloves off but when a scarred hand rubs over your clit your whole body jolts.
“Fuck” he mutters as you clothes your eyes as his fingers go further and rub along your entrance.
“You’re soaking omega” he whispers mouth going down your jaw to your neck as his fingers slowly circle around your clit and entrance, gathering up that slickness you could feel.
“I’m sorry” you don’t know why you’re apologising and he stops, lifting his head up to stare you in the eyes.
“Don’t ever apologise for being this wet for me” he growls it out breathlessly with sternness and you nod words spilling.
“Ok alpha” you mumble and he growls again working his fingers through your folds and rubbing over your clit. Your hands grip his shoulders your head tilts as he bites gently and sucks along your neck.
“I can’t wait any longer” he snarls and you whine when his fingers leave you and his shuffling down your body. You think he’s retreating before he’s practically ripping off the shorts and underwear and forcing your legs apart. You’re unsure of what to do, his mouth on your inner thigh bitting down harshly before soothing it over with his tongue. You wince at the feeling before his breath fans over your cunt. You still for a moment, stomach tightening and knotting as his tongue swipes a line through your folds before he growls and moans and forcefully uses his tongue against you. You’re shuddering and shaking, back arching hands gripping the couch under you at the intense feelings. You rub yourself against his face and he moves his arm to lay it over your hips using inhuman strength to keep you down. You struggle not to move as his free hand moves and his thumb presses against yours clit and moves it in a circular motion. You pant loudly, intense feelings washing over you, your stomach knotting together and a loud whine leaving you.
“You can do it” he growls against you moving his thumb faster as that knot releases in your stomach and a moan leaves your lips. He moans against you continuing his sucking and licking while you twitch at every touch and whine for him to stop. He finally slows and stops, lifting his head up to look you in the eyes, mouth, chin and nose area glistening. He wipes his hand on the back of his mouth and crawls up your body to press his lips to yours again.
“Such a good omega” he praises and you feel yourself go more boneless. You feel exhausted now too and he smirks sitting up and shrugging off his jacket to over you.
“Sleep” he orders grabbing one of the vials and putting it into his inhaler before breathing the chemicals in. You roll onto your side weakly, pulling his jacket closer and breathing it in as sleep overcomes you.
#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#x reader#aob#fallout tv series#lucy maclean#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader
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The first Empress-Chapter 3
Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait but writing and translating this chapter turned out to be more difficult than I thought. Hope you'll like it!
Warnings: arranged marriage, smut (+18), mentions of SA (by the Baron on Feyd)
Word count: 5.052
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
The spaceship arrived on Giedi Prime after nearly four days of journey, during which Megan and Feyd had tried to get to know each other a little. Feyd had not spoken much about himself: he had simply told her that he loved killing and fighting in the arena, nothing more. As for her, he had discovered more interesting things. The young woman loved reading, riding horses, history and politics, an unusual passion for a woman, he thought.
His uncle once told him that intelligence was a wasted quality in a woman; but Feyd disagreed. All his life he had only dealt with naive and useless women that were easy to manipulate. He kind of enjoyed the fact that his wife was smart and a woman worthy of his attention.
After that long journey Megan felt tired: many months had passed since the last interspace journey she had undertaken. She had gone to Caladan for an imperial visit to her uncle Leto. That was probably the last time she had visited her mother’s homeworld, but she didn’t know it at the time.
Her husky husband’s voice echoed from behind her as the doors of the spaceship opened, revealing the gray and gloomy sky of the capital.
"Welcome to Giedi Prime, wife." he said with a wide smile, taking her hand.
Megan and Jeremy exchanged a quick look.
What horrible place was that? They had grown up on a green planet with beautiful landscapes, and now they had both ended up in an industrial hell.
The Na-Baron and the Na-Baroness got off the ship immediately after Baron Vladimir, greeted by soldiers’ chants in Harkonnen language. Behind the ranks of the military there were the faces of ordinary people. Men, women, children, all united by the typical features of Giedi Prime.
Jeremy, who stood faithfully behind his sister almost in a protective way, noticed the way they looked at her. They were curious, almost impatient. They looked at her with hopeful eyes.
-The Bene Gesserit.- he thought -They prepared the people for our arrival. -
Megan walked neatly beside her husband.
She could feel his big hand holding hers.
"Do you like it?" he asked, continuing to walk on the long walkway that would have led them to the fortress.
Megan looked around, unsure whether or not to tell the truth.
"It’s a kind of planet I’m not used to." she decided to say.
Feyd looked at her, amused.
"Is that a subtle way of saying you don’t like it?"
"It’s a way of saying I have to get used to it." the girl promptly replied.
Her eyes inevitably met the ones of the common people behind the soldiers, intent on observing her while whispering.
"What’s going on?" Megan asked, noticing that the atmosphere was starting to warm up.
People had begun to speak louder and the soldiers had begun to arm themselves, ready to protect the noble family.
Feyd raised an eyebrow: he was confused as much as she was.
"Uncle." Feyd said, catching the Baron’s attention.
"This scum!" the Baron exclaimed, annoyed and angry.
Jeremy instinctively approached his sister, ready to defend her from any threat, asking, "What are they shouting?"
The screams were in Harkonnen language, an unknown language to the twins.
Feyd stopped to look at the agitated crowd, trying to figure out what they were shouting.
"Na-Baron."
A slimy and subtle voice caught his attention. It was Piter De Vries.
"It’s not wise to stay out here." he said, trying to keep his cool, "You and your bride must go immediately to the fortress."
"What are they shouting?" he asked, ignoring his recommendation.
And then he heard. He heard what they were shouting and he understood who they were shouting at.
"Liberator! Liberator!" they kept saying, pointing at Megan, begging her to free them.
It was her voice that brought him back to reality.
"Feyd, will you tell me what’s going on?" she insisted, slightly squeezing his hand to get his attention.
"Let’s go." he simply replied, confused and upset by the idea of a riot.
-What’s going on? - Na-Baron kept asking himself while dragging his wife and brother-in-law into the fortress. He wasn’t easily broken down, nor panicked, but an unsettling sensation was creeping inside of him. Never since his uncle brought him to Giedi Prime as a child, he had seen the people in such turmoil.
His uncle did not love the people, he despised them, and he taught him to do the same. Normally people would lower their heads in the presence of the nobles and remain silent in fear. Not this time though.
He couldn’t understand why.
******
A few hours later an extraordinary meeting of the small Council was scheduled.
The trusted nobles of the capital had been invited and Feyd, as the baron’s heir, had a duty to attend.
He left his wife in her apartments with her brother, both still confused by the turbulent arrival on the planet, and he then started to get ready for the Council in his own room. He needed to understand, to know more about what happened.
When he opened the door to his room his harpies were waiting for him, laying on the bed.
As soon as they saw him they began to greet him impatiently and to beg him not to leave them alone anymore.
"We missed you so much, Na-Baron..." they kept saying while kissing his whole body "We can’t be without you."
He greeted them with his usual manner of doing, impassive and icy, letting them praise him a little. He loved the fact that their life depended on him. Being the center of their existence pleased him enormously.
He caressed their heads almost as if they were obedient little animals and he then ordered the servants to start dressing him up.
When he noticed that his harpies were busy whispering to each other, Feyd slightly laughed. He knew what they were mumbling about. He knew what they wanted to know.
But he decided to remain silent, waiting for them to speak first.
And so it was.
"Feyd." one of them began, showing her black teeth in a wide smile.
"Yes, my darling?"
"What does your wife look like?"
There was a strong note of hatred in her voice.
At the word "wife" the other two harpies almost hissed in enragement.
Feyd smiled even more widely. They were jealous. Oh how much he loved to be desired...
"She is very beautiful." he admitted sincerely, visualizing Megan’s beautiful face in his mind.
"More beautiful than us?" the other harpy asked with a hint of desperate need for approval from him.
"Yes." he just answered.
He didn’t care if he hurt them or not, it was the truth. His harpies were beautiful for the beauty standards of Giedi Prime, but Megan was more beautiful for his taste.
A general hiss echoed behind him.
"So now that she’s here you’re going to abandon us?"
"Don’t leave us Na-Baron, please. We need you."
"We exist only if you are with us."
Feyd turned to look at them amused.
All that despair was feeding his huge ego.
"No, I will not leave you for now. As long as you satisfy me and you are obedient pets you can still receive my attention." he answered as the servants finished dressing him. He dismissed them with a simple gesture.
"Where are you going, our beloved Feyd?" a harpy asked, seeing him walking to the door "I thought you would spend some time with us..." she whispered sensually while the other two almost started purring.
He knew what she was alluding to: usually, as soon as he returned to Giedi Prime after a diplomatic visit to another planet, he visited them in order to satisfy his sexual needs.
But he didn’t have time to do that that day.
"I don’t have time." he quickly explained, looking at his reflection in the mirror one last time.
He still did not know if after the meeting he would have visited them or Megan.
"Maybe later, if I don’t meet with my wife." he added, postponing the decision.
And after that, in a mix of anger and resentment, they all remained silent while Feyd left the room.
******
The Council Room was a place that invoked memories in Feyd’s mind.
Most of them were dark and hard to forget.
The first memory related to that room was particularly traumatic. Like any seven-year-old, Feyd loved to play. He was always told that playing was a waste of time, that he had to learn how to fight, how to rule and not to invent stupid hobbies. But he was stubborn. He still wanted to play, even though there was never anyone willing to play with him.
One afternoon he was wandering in the fortress while playing with an indefinite amount of imaginary friends, when he accidentally entered the Council Room, interrupting a meeting.
Vladimir had angrily scolded him, humiliating him in front of all the nobles, and then he had told him that he was going to punish him in his chambers.
Feyd knew what that meant.
He knew what was coming.
Even at the time, despite the typical innocence of children, he understood that there was something wrong with all that. That the way his uncle touched him wasn’t normal, that not all children had uncles like that, fortunately.
From that day on Feyd kept his distance from that room until he was old enough to be ready to sit in the Council.
As much as he tried not to think about it, that room always took him back to that memory. Every time he sat at the long table next to his uncle, he felt such a deep hatred for him that led him to often fantasize about killing him.
He thought about it many times but he never did it.
-In due time.- he thought -I will have my revenge. -
"My trusted lords." the Baron said with his hoarse voice, "I think you all know why we are here."
The nobles nodded, visibly upset.
"I leave the word to Piter. He will be able to explain some... things to you better" he said vaguely, inviting the Mentat to continue.
Piter cleared his throat with his usual hasty manner before speaking.
"Well... so, thanks to my Mentat skills, I immediately understood the reason for the turmoil today."
Feyd rolled his eyes. He hated that Mentat. Nobody cared about his abilities, they just wanted to understand why the people were shouting those things to his wife.
-How much I want to kill that idiot. - he thought, still remaining impassive.
"The Bene Gesserit are involved, I bet." a noble said.
Piter nodded: "Yes they are. An ancient prophecy of theirs speaks of a First Empress, the first woman to sit on the throne. During our visit to Kaitain for our Na-Baron’s wedding I tried to gather as much information as possible about our new Na-Baroness and it seems that everyone believes she is the chosen one."
"Nonsense." commented the Baron to reassure the nobles "All nonsense of course."
Piter nodded again, but that time hesitantly. Feyd seemed the only one to have noticed.
Maybe his uncle was underestimating the situation.
"The Bene Gesserit, as always, must have spread the word here on Giedi Prime. The people were waiting for Feyd Rautha’s wife, the one who will free them from slavery and from the Laandstrad system, the one who will make them free men and women."
While all the nobles laughed, Feyd and Piter looked at each other in silence. Neither of them was laughing. It was at that point that Feyd realized that the Bene Gesserit prophecies were potentially serious things.
"A woman will never sit on the throne." the Baron chuckled.
"Women are meant to make children and stay silent. Can you imagine a woman ruling the Empire? We’d be doomed!" another noble said, making all the others laugh.
"Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna let the people love her, think she’s gonna save them, sit on the throne... we’re gonna let them think whatever they want. We will turn all of this in our favor, of course. So that when someone will sit on the throne, that someone will be my nephew Feyd."
Feyd turned to look at him slowly, perfectly hiding the surprise.
His uncle’s fat face deformed into a wicked smile.
"Let that woman believe she can rule and I will make you emperor."
Now all the nobles' eyes were on him.
"Emperor?" Feyd asked, savoring the taste of that word.
The Baron smiled even more widely.
"When she will ask you what happened today, tell her the truth. Fuel her hopes. Make her believe it. If we exploit the support of that mass of beggars, who do you think will sit on the throne?"
Feyd looked him intensely in the eyes, feeling the excitement growing.
"Feyd Rautha Harkonnen!" the Baron exclaimed with a proud look.
"Feyd Rautha Harkonnen!" the nobles repeated in a solemn tone.
******
Giedi Prime was a miserable place.
Nothing about it was pleasant or interesting.
It was sad to think that she would have had to spend the rest of her days there, under a perpetually gloomy sky and breathing heavily polluted air. But at least she wasn’t alone.
Her brother had dinner with her and before he left he had come up with a theory.
"What if what happened today is a sign that the prophecy is true?"
Megan looked at him in silence, analyzing his idea.
They both knew about the prophecy because of their mother.
"I don’t know." his sister replied "The world doesn’t seem ready for a woman on the throne yet... maybe the Bene Gesserit are wrong. Perhaps the Chosen One is yet to come."
There was disappointment in her voice.
“We’ll have time to see if the prophecy is right.” he reassured her "Rest now."
"Unless my husband decides to pay me a visit."
Jeremy tried not to show it but the idea of his sister with Feyd Rautha still troubled him deeply.
"Good night." he said, kissing her on the forehead.
"Good night Jeremy," she whispered, "I’m lucky to have you here with me."
And it was true. Without her twin she couldn’t survive, neither on Giedi Prime, nor anywhere else.
As expected, her husband came to see her.
"Come in." Megan said as soon as she heard a knock. She knew it was him.
Feyd entered the room and closed the door behind him.
He chose to go to her. He couldn’t explain it but the idea of having sex with her excited him a lot more than having sex with his concubines. The newest toy was always the most interesting.
"Did you have dinner, wife?"
"I did." she nodded "Did you attend the council?"
Feyd nodded without taking his eyes off her.
The way she looked at him... she wanted to know, she wanted to ask him what had happened. His ability to understand people was not due to his empathy, but rather due to his attentiveness and meticulous observation.
And just like he predicted, Megan spoke.
"What happened today?" she asked, "Were they shouting at me?"
Why did she ask him such an obvious question? Feyd was certain that she knew about the prophecy about herself.
"I think we both know about the prophecy." he just said, studying her with his piercing gaze.
Megan seemed to frown, slightly tilting her head in surprise.
"How do you know?"
"Bene Gesserit’s prophecies have always seemed like a waste of time to me, but they have the strange ability to spread quickly." Feyd explained, "Our Mentat heard about it on Kaitain at our wedding. Today he only had the confirmation that the people really believe in it. They believe that you will free them from the imperial system."
Silence fell between the two. They looked at each other for a few moments, both intrigued by the other.
Feyd had expected a reaction from her. He had expected astonishment, surprise... she was a woman after all, and women were always exaggerated and sentimental. He had just told her that people thought she was going to be the first woman to rule... and she just looked at him in silence.
-What a strange little creature. - he thought before breaking the silence with a simple question.
"Do you think they’re right?"
He had to make her believe in the prophecy as his uncle suggested, and to do so he needed to make her talk.
Megan remained silent for a while, breathing in deeply.
"I don’t know."
Feyd sighed.
-What a disappointing answer.-
Seeing him unsatisfied with her answer Megan added, "All men are still too dull to accept a woman’s power."
-That is an interesting answer. -
"All men? You’re assuming I am too?"
"Isn’t that right?"
"No."
To be honest Feyd never thought of a woman as a ruler. He had always been taught that women were just about having children and being good wives, but he had never had a maternal model to learn from. He killed his mother a long time ago. As soon as she had tried to stop the Baron in his attempt to bring Feyd to Giedi Prime to raise him as a true Harkonnen, Vladimir had ordered the little Feyd to kill her. And he, a simple child with a knife in his hand, had obeyed without really knowing what he was doing.
Did he regret it? No.
Or maybe.
But there was no point in thinking about it anymore: his mother was dead and he had found a strange pleasure in killing.
His wife raised an eyebrow in an unconvinced expression.
She didn’t believe him.
-You’re more stubborn than I thought, pet. -
"Men are all the same."
Feyd looked intensely into her eyes. That sentence annoyed him. He was not like all men. All men wanted to be like him, to be precise.
"And tell me, what are men like?"
"Frightened by a strong woman." she explained with a firm tone.
Feyd smiled in amusement.
"And you think you are?"
The girl inhaled deeply, nodding without hesitation.
"It’s a fact." and then she went on "That I really am what people say I am doesn’t matter now. There’s still time to figure it out. But one thing is certain: I always frightened men. My father was terrified that I would open my mouth to any event with guests."
The Emperor frightened by a girl? It was both absurd and funny.
"Why is that?"
"Because I didn't agree with him on a lot of things and I wasn’t afraid to say it."
Her answers, always accurate and ready... Feyd was sincerely amazed. But he did not show it.
And then he thought -If she’s so proud and stubborn it might become a problem for me. I’ll find a way to tame her. -
"In what ways did you disagree with him?"
He was really interested in finding out.
"I think the whole Empire is based on injustice and that an Emperor should rule differently."
Now Feyd could understand why her father preferred her when she was silent. Her confidence was unbearable, yet amusing.
"How?" he teased her.
"If I truly am the First Empress, you will see."
Feyd immediately became serious, taking a step toward her.
"Another husband would have already punished you for your insolence."
Just like before Megan didn’t get upset.
"If you do, you’d prove my theory that men are scared of confident women."
-Now it’s too much. -
He had to make things clear, that insolent little creature had to figure out who was in charge.
"I’ll prove something else." he whispered, approaching her, "That I can make you shut up for as long as I want. Or rather... that the only thing you’ll be able to say is my name."
Megan smiled, looking him in the eyes.
"We’ll see." she replied.
Was it possible that the fear with which she looked at him the first time had already vanished?
Feyd sat on the bed, ordering her to kneel before him.
"Now I’m gonna teach you something, pet, and you’re gonna have to listen carefully."
The girl nodded, kneeling between his legs.
"Look how obedient you’ve become now that you know you’ll get my cock." he grinned, caressing her cheek.
Without needing to be told Megan took off his uniform pants, freeing his half hard manhood from his clothes.
His dark eyes watched her fingers running along the numerous veins down his length before wrapping her hand around it, squeezing slightly.
During the journey from Kaitain to Giedi Prime, they only managed to have sex twice. Feyd had dragged her into a small room on the spaceship and made her his with impatience. And Megan also enjoyed those moments. The embarrassment and awkwardness were slowly abandoning her, leaving room for a constant curiosity and desire for him.
If during the first time with him she had been afraid that he might hurt her, now she knew how much Feyd was able to make her feel good instead.
Megan understood what she had to do, something she’d heard about but never done before.
"What if... I hurt you?" she asked, looking up.
-What a stupid question.- she mentally said to herself, seeing Feyd grinning. She already knew the answer.
"I like pain, pet. Both to provoke it and to receive it." he explained to her while slightly pushing her head towards his now hard manhood.
Megan breathed deeply, getting closer.
Her tongue licked the base and then ran up to the tip, following a large bluish vein. She then focused on the tip, licking it, making her tongue swirl around it in circular motions.
-I’m doing well. - she thought, satisfied, hearing Feyd’s deep moans.
After a few minutes of teasing she then opened her mouth, barely taking him all inside.
It was too big to take it all.
She began to move her head, bobbing it up and down his length, while Feyd took her long brown hair in his hand.
"Am I too big for you, little thing?" he groaned, pushing her down further at every movement.
Megan tried to shake her head but she was pushed down on him, feeling his cock touching her throat.
She instinctively tried to retreat, gagging around him, but Feyd kept her still for a few moments, grinning in pleasure.
As soon as he let her go, Megan coughed with tears in her eyes and looked at him with a grim look.
"Don’t make that face." he mocked her, laughing.
He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb, smiling even more.
"Now continue, pet." he ordered, slightly slapping his cock against her closed lips.
The girl obeyed, starting again.
After a few minutes and after understanding the mechanism, she began to enjoy it to the point that she instinctively added the hand movement, hearing Feyd groan even louder.
"Yes pet, just like that. Good girl." he said as bewitched, looking at her bobbing her head with teary eyes "Do you want me to cum in your mouth?"
Megan nodded eagerly without stopping, looking up directly at him.
That look she gave him... it sent him over the edge.
He came with a low groan, pulling her hair as he could feel his cock twitching in her mouth.
He looked into her eyes as she swallowed, almost amazed.
It didn’t matter that their marriage was arranged... the sexual pleasure he had experienced with her that week was a pleasure he had never experienced with any other woman, not even with his concubines.
Maybe they would have never loved each other, and that didn’t matter, but at least they could both make each other feel good.
"You did a great job, pet." he complimented her, caressing her cheeks.
Megan smiled slightly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
He had been right when he had told his harpies that she was very beautiful.
"You are mine." he added possessively, looking into her eyes.
That sentence stirred something within Megan. At first she looked at him in amazement, remaining silent as she caught her breath.
And then she nodded, not taking her eyes off him.
Perhaps there was a reason why according to the Bene Gesserit’s plan they were destined to be together.
And that was the reason: she was his and he was hers.
******
Two weeks later
Feyd told her about the upcoming fight in the arena. Because of Feyd’s duties as Na-Baron the evening was the only moment they could spend together. And when they were not busy having sex they had made a habit of entertaining themselves in conversations. Megan was surprised that they had sex every night. Men usually prefer the company of their concubines and she was sure that he was still sleeping with his harpies regularly, especially when during the day he was busy and away from her. But after all, he always came back to her and that… that made her feel special.
They regularly spoke after sex. It was always Megan to start, since she had understood that Feyd was of few words, but he always participated in the conversations with interest.
One night, without warning, Feyd spoke first.
"In three days there will be a fight in the arena." he had said proudly, looking up at the ceiling.
Megan had turned to look at him, observing his facial features, his body perfectly muscular and sculpted.
"How long have you been fighting in the arena?" he had asked.
"For years. Since I was 14, maybe." he had replied.
Everybody knew how damn good he was at fighting.
"Do you want me to attend?"
Feyd had looked at her, perfectly hiding his emotions behind a detached expression.
He didn’t want to ask her directly because he was waiting for her to make the move.
He wanted her to see him fight, he wanted her to understand and see how strong and skilled her husband was.
"The first time we spoke you said you weren’t afraid of death." he had said, "If it’s true, attend the fight. People want to see their Na-Baroness."
By saying so he had pretended that her presence didn’t mean anything for him but that it meant something to people.
Megan agreed.
And there she was, sitting in the arena, waiting for the show to begin with her brother beside her.
"There he is."
Jeremy pointed at the man entering the arena, greeted by the chants of the spectators.
It was Feyd.
"Who are his opponents?" his sister asked him, using a pair of special glasses to see clearer from afar.
"I heard he fights against prisoners from other planets." he explained, clenching his fists in rage "Including Fremens."
Megan felt blood freeze in her veins as a Fremen entered the arena, stumbling.
Although no one, except for the imperial family, knew about their true identity, the Fremen blood inherited from their real father was for the twins a source of great pride; and seeing a Fremen sentenced to death in that way made them seethe in anger.
The fight began.
"They’re drugged." Jeremy noticed "Prisoners are drugged."
It was true. All her husband’s opponents were staggering and their reflexes were slowed.
Her twin brother was confused.
"You can tell he’s a good fighter... why do this?"
"Because Feyd kills for pleasure. He fights for fun, he doesn’t care about fairness or honor." she explained, looking at the prisoners being killed relentlessly.
The way Feyd was killing them was proving to her how much he enjoyed doing it.
Seeing that side of her husband in person wasn’t reassuring her at all. She always contemplated murder but only for those who really deserved it, for those who committed injustice… not as a hobby.
When the fight finished her husband looked at the Baron, who nodded proudly, and then directly at her.
Megan looked at him, unsure how to react.
Did she have to pretend she liked it? Yes, maybe it was the wisest thing to do.
So she gave him a slight smile, a smile that Feyd secretly appreciated.
The chants of approval from the audience did not stop even when Feyd disappeared from sight, entering the underground parts of the arena.
"Let’s go." her brother said, getting up from the stands.
Escorted by Megan’s guards and maids, the twins left the arena to get to the vehicle that would have taken them back to the fortress.
But something went wrong.
The people were shouting and calling her name again. They started to surround the guards who were trying to protect her, reaching out their hands to touch her, begging for her help.
"Don’t worry." Jeremy told her, drawing out his knife. Her husband was a skilled fighter, but her brother was too.
But Megan wasn’t worried. Not at all.
In those weeks following her arrival she had thought a lot about how the people looked at her, about what Feyd had told her about the prophecy.
She knew she had to try to help them. She felt like she had a duty towards those people. She needed to understand why. She had to find out if she really was what they thought she was.
The guards began to load their weapons, ready to shoot at the crowd, when Megan felt an arm grab her.
She turned to see a young woman who was pulling her arm with a desperate look. She had the typical features of Giedi Prime, dark eyes, smooth and pale face.
"Please, my lady." the girl begged her in Galach, without letting her arm go.
Megan, as in a trance, started allowing the young woman to guide her out of the crowd, but saw with the corner of her eye a soldier pointing his weapon at the girl’s head, ready to stop her from taking the Na-Baroness with her.
But Megan turned to him and without even thinking she used the Voice.
"Stop. Let me go."
The soldier obeyed without resistance.
"No, no!" Jeremy shouted, seeing his sister disappear into the crowd. He started pushing people, desperately looking for her, shouting orders to the guards.
But there was nothing to do.
Megan had disappeared.
From that moment, everything changed.
Tag list: @mamawiggers1980 @avidreader73 @pomtherine
#feyd rautha#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd rautha fanfic#feyd rautha imagine#feyd rautha smut#dune#dune movie#dune part 2#fanfic#fanfiction#giedi prime#house harkonnen
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Dungeon Meshi Anime Review, Season 2, Episode 19 review
Izutsumi arrives! And Marcille has a nightmare.
This is an interesting episode but I know my spouse and I had desperately hoped that they would re-organize things somehow. Marcille's plot in this feels painfully tacked on and unrelated to Izutsumi's introduction, and the concept of the nightmare is so good, it could have easily been expanded to be an entire episode on its own. I wish they'd done that. They could have paired Izu's intro with the ice golem story to have one all-Izutsumi episode and then one all-Marcille episode... alas.
Those are changes I would have LIKED to see, but here's some changes I didn't like:
(MAJOR MANGA AND ANIME SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!)
Trigger removed Laios' mother's only speaking line in the manga. It would have taken SO LITTLE to have someone read this single sentence, and removing it, in my opinion, has a negative impact on the story as a whole.
It SOUNDS like a generic thing when she asks Laios "When will you give us grandchildren?" But this is actually really important. Laios is afraid of being forced to make a family and participate in society. This is unusual because he's a man, most men in a historic time period of this don't really care about such things, but Laios is so afraid of it, it's a recurring nightmare!
This is also why he acted so weird seeing a loving father/baby scene in the magic paintings chapter. He hated seeing a father talk about how much they love their baby.
Laios is named after a story about murdering your children before they can hurt you. Like an Oedipus Complex supposedly means that a son wants to have sex with his mother, a Laios Complex means a man wants to kill his sons. Kui did not pick this name and then have Laios repeatedly be uncomfortable with children, marriage and fatherhood for no reason.
Obviously Trigger didn't make any of these connections and so they didn't think it was necessary for Laios' mom to speak this line out loud, but I vehemently disagree.
This is similar to my beef with them removing Yarn Floke's only dialog in the story and removing her from the scene with the Island Governor. That moment told us that Mr. and Mrs. Floke were equal partners, and now anime watchers assume she's just his wife who doesn't do anything. That sucks.
The addition of paintings of Marcille's father in the nightmare. Woof. I really don't care for this, if they wanted to do it i would have preferred it if they'd obscured the paintings somehow so it wasn't obvious that Marcille's father wasn't an elf.
I think this makes the later reveal of her half-elf status WAY less surprising.
Also, in the manga, the complete silence around her father created a strong subtext that Marcille's mother was her only parent that mattered. They could still accomplish this but I think it won't be as shocking.
People reading the manga probably thought "her dad was an elf and he died young and that traumatized her" (this is what Laios assumes I'm sure)
People watching the anime will think "her dad was a tall-man and his natural death of old age is what traumatized her" which is true, but they aren't supposed to actually know that yet...
Overall the episode was good aside from these issues. I liked that the nightmare sequence was in black and white, and the transition to color at the end was spectacular and very impactful... But part of me wishes they had done something else to differentiate the nightmare state from the normal animation. The black and white was good, but almost too subtle because the DM palette is already so desaturated.
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📖"Late Bloomer"
Rated: Explicit
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female reader
Tags: human trafficking, dark!Lloyd, significant undefined age gap, older man/younger reader, daddy/girl, dub con with significant non con elements, innocence kink, loss of virginity, exploitation, dacryphilia, size kink, dumbification, misogyny, squirting, forced orgasm, p in v sex, light degradation, pet names, oral sex: m! and f! receiving, sexual awakening, age play vibes, little!reader, but not really: she's just drugged and really really dumb.
Summary:
He imagines her as a rose: fragrant and velvet-soft. Imagines crushing her in his hand, plucking her petals off one by one, until there's nothing left.
Lloyd's always loved ruining pretty things.
A.N.: The age gap is left undefined. The OF is not the girl from the movie, which I haven't seen. I don't write characters as explicitly younger than 18 on Tumblr, after having a foul staff member equate teenage pairings with CSAM.
That said, this fic will be dark and chock full of exploitation and dub-to-outright non-con. Consume responsibly.
The job doesn't go quite as planned, but Lloyd can be a go-with-the-flow, adapt-to-the-demands-of-the-moment type guy when he needs to be. So he gets creative, and in the end it all works out alright.
The not-insubstantial bounty for the Russian perverts is regrettably forfeited when he loses his temper and gives them the brutal executions that they deserve. But that money can be made back once he finds a buyer for the yacht, since the guy who owns (owned) it is now sleeping with the fishes. With a little more effort, Lloyd can still make out well on this deal. And he's killed a few deplorables, and gained himself an unexpected prize, to boot.
Not a bad day for doing crime.
They shove the bodies overboard and retire for the night, headed for the rendezvous in Madripoor. Lloyd's men handle the cargo, already under strict orders not to touch the younger ones, whom Lloyd figures he'll arrange to have dumped off at an embassy once they dock in Jakarta.
The older girls seem relieved to have been liberated and they don't put up much of a fuss when they're divvied up amongst the crew for the evening. Lloyd's personal pick, the poor thing whom he'd had to physically wrestle away from Yuri with a flare gun pressed right to her head, has been locked down in a stateroom to try and calm her down.
Despite what some people say, Lloyd is not an inconsiderate monster. He freshens up first, showering all the blowback off his face and changing into something comfortable before heading below deck. He keys in the code for the bedroom, which is large and lavish and looks exactly like something a Russian billionaire would design. All money, no taste.
The girl's on the bed. She's still crying, but it's a pretty, aesthetic type of crying rather than hysterical or snotty. Tears that enhance rather than detract. The type of thing a man like Lloyd can really appreciate, if he's so inclined.
He steps into the room, takes a deep breath, and reminds himself to take his time with this. No sense rushing it and wasting a good thing. He's going to savor every moment.
She turns and squeaks when she sees him there. "Oh!"
"Shh, sh sh," he soothes. "There there now. Why're you crying, Buttercup? There's nothing to cry about. Not anymore."
Still in the middle of writing this ridiculous filth (another "short" oneshot to shake writer's block for my true passion projects), but was too excited to not post a teaser. Should be up tomorrow!
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