Latest Posts by artemisthevirginhunter - Page 6

Marc: Sunny day, huh? Maybe I'd hit the lake for a while today.

...

After 15 minutes near the lake.

...

Marc: Steven, I hear you mumbling hello to random fishes one more time and I'll go khonshu on the lake.

Kimiko, you hit home mon coeur.

Amen, Butcher.

Weekend's for being a bookworm and doing re-readings, no arguments.

I gotta say I'm shit at drawing, Christ. Now that I'm posting this, i can't even fucking read what I wrote, fuck me.(or don't, totally a preference)

[Moon knight, you better have a season 2!!!]

The crocodile lady is finally Outta her coffin, in technical terms- Goddess Ammit was finally released from her usabti (what happened then shall wait).

Layla politely saying fuck off to khonshu and his tricks. The loveliness of the moment- "the manipulative twat gets told off".

I don't have words for this scene. Marc was finally having his moment, his confession. He manifested the quiet he always wanted but he threw it away without a care just to save Steven, just to have him back.

This was one of the funniest parts in the episode. "Manipulative twat gets told off again"- he literally grumbled at having to deal with Steven! And then they do their little name-game. 'Siply old bird' and 'little worm', of course it's sarcasm from both sides but fuck that- pet names are pet names.

May calamawy!!!!! Mama ate it!!! The way she switched between Taweret and herself- bent in pain) oh man!! She's BRILLIANT bloody hell!

And the costume!! Fire!! Taweret and Layla gonna end up besties!

That little smirk Layla gave to Marc like - "I'm saving your ass again, by the way in a costume this time" and the "oh, baby" Marc said and hugged her. Holy shit, therapy really did wonders on my boy, finally talking without restraints. Notice how the first thing Marc does is check up on her and then Steven out like "holy shit babe, what IS THAT?!" . Because of course Steven knows Layla can kick ass.

Steven fought!!! And the little dust off. Boy, his confidence literally had me out of my seat the whole time.

"Are you an Egyptian superhero?"

"Yes"

Hoy shit! The world finally has an Egyptian superhero, go Layla go. The pride in her voice though🔪

Not the knife 🤍

The Spanish killer's back in the league. And this time Jake's literally there. And is that khonshu in a fucking suit? They literally are like "jakey got a cabbie so we go take a trip to loony bin, let me wear my panty....no pants, yes pants."

By the way, Jake has a fucking temper and his first response to almost any stimuli has been to kill and escape so far..maybe he's doing this to protect Marc and Steven from khonshu and his horrors?

With a face like this, like despite the whole avatar shit this is the most strange shit he ever witnessed!🤣🤣

The overwhelming need Steven has to acknowledge all the the animals he encounters 😭🤣🤣🤍

Steven pointing to the goat politely...."Goat.."

Steven making an effort to directly engage in conversation with camel Harrow left behind....

"Hello!"

44-45 minutes?!!! That's it?! That's how long the moon knight finale will be?! What the actual fuck, they gonna show anything at all or what? We need a fucking movie for finale!

Poor man, the literal theme of this episode was "confuse TF out of Marc", "make Marc cry", "make Marc cry some more", "why TF is Marc not crying yet again?", "If you won't, then I'll make Marc cry" and "because Marc just has to cry".

His whole story and trauma of it broken down and presented. It was a crucial episode.

I like the idea that both the identities were acknowledged as seperate conscious in the afterlife, like even the goddess was entirely confused about the whole alter business because humans have literally managed to advance almost all shit's to next level of course.

The fact that both Marc and Steven dutifully ignored the last coffin (aka Jake the cabbie, really just a baby) and so the scales never truly balanced and only balanced after Steven died? Like Marc just saw Steven die and the goddess is like "ohh, the scales balanced?". I was heartbroken to see Steven gone. So will be Layla.

Marc with his hands on his waist and literally stating flatly, "Bitch, we mental. Why else?"

The happiness that man felt about being dead rather than crazy won my heart, of course Marc- priorities. But still, to a man who's been broken in terms of mental space almost his whole life- that must have been to precious of clarity. His brother's death for which he blamed himself, his mother's hate, her violent abuse- both mental and physical, his trauma serving in military (from where he got discharged due to him often escaping into his fugue state- his mental disorder, the chaos causing him to be a liability for military), then as a mercenary (because that's apparently the only job he could get with what skills he had), then almost dying- like he literally was going to shoot himself to end the pain. Then killing in the name of protecting and delivering justice. Trauma, trauma, trauma.

And the way Marc believed that he chose his life as khonshu's avatar because he couldn't live like anything else but a killer- because that is what he always was (probably thinking of his brother, oh god).

Steven finally understood though that khonshu had manipulated Marc from the beginning.

Also, I think Jake knows of both Marc and Steven because he could kill the bitches who'd bother them, possibly because he knew of Marc's skills, like Steven could do shit when he realised he was Marc in a way, atleast with the physical abilities.

Moon knight episode 4 [AHHHHHHHH!!!]

Oh, this scene right here! Marc being a protective husband and being jealous as fuck and threatened by his own alter about his wife.

"Are you in love with my wife?!"

And then the beautiful intimidating threat.

"I'll throw us off a cliff!!!"

And then despite the clear threat baby Steven goes and kisses Layla after telling her that Marc does care for her and isn't the grandest of assholes. This sweet bastard. Then of course, Marc exhibits his skill of how to be a TWAT.👇

By making Steven punch himself while he was still sporting a goofy as hell smile over his kiss with Layla. 👀This shit was the funniest part to me in this episode.🤣

Here, how Steven comforts Layla about her father and how she beams again at Steven for making her feel better.

Layla and Steven had amazing interactions throught the episode. The part where Steven went nerdy mode and explaining the Eye of Horus and relevancy of other senses to gods and all and Layla looked slyly at Steven, impressed of course. Almost like she found a nerdy best friend, awwww! And the part where Steven was ranting and then realised how quiet Layla was being and straight up went like....👇

Although I did feel very bad in this scene for Marc when Layla confronted him. I mean when the whole story came to light of how he almost died saving her father and he'd have died if khonshu hadn't chosen him to be his avatar.

Ofcourse, the tomb priest zombie.

"What the bloody hell's a Heka?"

Well, Steven. You killed one.

I cracked up at his anxiety, politely of course. He KILLED a fucking Egyptian mummy or shit and he's never done shit like this before. He's both horrified and amazed at hell at his actions and his luck. Probably thinking, "How the hell I even did that?!", meanwhile chanting, "I squished it. I squished it."

This scene was bloody funny. At first they both literally encounter a fucking hippo dressed as a Pharaoh? And then it speaks in the most fucking unexpected voice- of a female?! And these two are suddenly screaming because they definitely DID NOT EXPECT THIS and so it's SOMEHOW SEEMING MORE SCARY. Oscar Issac has mastered the screaming scenes LOL. And also the difference in both of their hand movements while they scream? Steven has a defensive pose like "Fuck, don't come at me?!". Meanwhile Marc is like, "Bitch what?!!"

And the part where they find a third coffin? But ignore it? Baby Jake?!!

And also the concept they used that Alexander the great was the last Avatar of Ammit. And how they turned the concept of his lost tomb to an awesome part of the episode.

Everything was bloody awesome!

Me talking to the small part of my brain that is me but wants to do something I know will end up bad just so when it does end up bad I don't need to blame myself✌️👇-

Before anything else, I am dead set on talking about the character development or say the bond development between Steven and khonshu, from both sides.

From "the stupid pigeon" to finally a respectful khonshu. And from "you fool" and "worm" to finally Steven. Gotta say, they've worked hard enough.

The scene where Oscar Issac transformed from Marc to Steven in front of the screen for the first time, in complete concious and view to the viewers. IT WAS BLOODY BRILLIANT. HE'S AMAZING.

The visual motion was....amazing. Oscar Issac is so winning the series💫

Then we come to the part of how we finally have a third alter in the picture. But then, we always had him. Remeber the scene from the first episode where Steven suddenly went off and then returned to his body holding a scarab in a bloody fist with people and bloodshed all around.

We've seen in this episode how Marc actually fights and straight up killing is not his style obviously so, oh boy, who dat at the door peekin' ? I feel like Marc's the real one, right so. Maybe Steven is the alter that let's Marc live a normal life he couldn't being a mercenary and the alter 3 is the bloody-thirstier alter that does things too gruesome to Marc's liking. And, and, and where was the baby alter 3 going- riding like that to the airport? Besides that, it's an alter that obviously has no mercenary knowledge like Marc (except for the killing part- which is shinier than Marc) because he didn't know any Arabic (like Marc does for his travel and 'MI6 bonkers' stuff) as the driver accused him that he was being a foreigner who didn't know Arabic.

And the pain on Marc's face. When he saw the kid cut off his scarf and die. Trauma list keeps gettin' longer, eh?

He's devastated. I mean even in the beginning when he first started on the roof with the fight. He hesitated right before he slapped the kid to the side instead of a proper punch when he realised he was fighting off just a kid. And then, that very kid is dead and of course he believes it's all his fault, which it is but not entirely, technically it's all harrow- for brainwashing people like that.

Oh I probably will write again about episode 3.... These are just the "hit me right as I watched" ones.

Okay, but really, watching moon knight has been the best part of my week this month. Two consciousness- so different to each other but of course one of them is an alter so the thing most important to him is protecting the host.

When Marc said that he owed his servitude to khonshu because that moon god saved their lives- he clearly implied that he was ready to protect Steven from the weight of what he can't bear. He will kill, he will have blood on his hands, he will hurt but in the end he will always end up protecting others he loves.

The thing is that Steven isn't wrong to not trust Marc because he clearly thinks Marc's volatile, meanwhile Marc has no other option but to kill to protect Layla and Steven both. Not just that, he's delivering justice of some sorts, but doesn't mean he likes the idea too much himself. I mean the way he hesitated before admitting that the price for being saved was his servitude and then got violently defensive when Steven told him everything he touches, he ruins. Clearly the way khonshu and he talked it indicates Marc was the one experiencing slow dying when khonshu found them, so baby boy has trauma of God knows what level.

This show has just given me way too many theories!!!

This scene right here is much more than Steven sitting in despair. It's literally the heartbreak on his face after a fight. The way the mirror is broken it seems it was punched way too many times in anger. Clearly, the baby Bois have been fighting and arguing. Steven is in pain because of his new reality and the possibility of Marc hurting someone meanwhile Marc is in agony over his role in stopping the "evil madman" and protecting both Steven and Layla from konshu.

The way Marc was waiting with a proud daddy smirk on his face, waiting for Steven so that he can tell him first what a good punch he landed and then go for negotiating surrender of his body.

The brilliant way this scene was put together. Brilliantly acted, shot and edited. And holy shit, the eyes on Oscar Issac! This is absolute gem!

Steven is going to be in shock for a long time for this one! The way he was shocked seeing the divorce papers?

"I would never divorce you."

Or the part where he without hesitation stated.

"You seem really lovely. On the other hand, this Marc? He sounds like a twit, right?"

He's is so precious given the way he talks, oh I'm swooning please!

Covered in sweat, nursing whiskey, broken glass, thrown pillows, messy sheets- poor Marc is a literal mess. So much to protect and fight for, so much to live through especially his own demons and nightmares. He clearly needs a good sleep, a little rest. The way he's looking in the mirror and then turning to take a gulp from his bottle, there's no doubt they did have a bad argument. He's as much of a mess Steven is , maybe more so, he just likes to use knives to express it.

@regnum-lab Okay, so this has been in discussions a long time and i had to write my views. The thing is that often theories (especially the conflict theories) in criminology mention how law is made to either suit the standards of those already in power or the powerful ones easily evade the law causing the ones with lesser power to have a higher conviction rate.

So technically Will Smith had good intentions but wrong way of acting on it. Yes, tasteless jokes have become quite the culture and it's only fair to feel offended if it makes you vulnerable, so Chris Rock needed to apologise, but slapping him on stage in front of so many celebrities and viewers was a little overboard. Will Smith was wrong to have physically abused someone who could've been reasoned with in a firm manner. He did do wrong but unlike the white guys, he'd possibly pay for it too and probably more harshly than a white guy would- and that is maddening. Not his conviction- but the evasion from conviction by those who have been in power for so long.

so the academy is reviewing whether or not to remove Will Smith’s award and here are some interesting tweets about that :)

Just finished watching "Love, Simon". It's a beautiful story. The point especially where Simon mentioned how he hated it that only gay people had to come out, not the heteros. I mean, we all have lived with common standards for so long that everything different either stands out or just becomes a brave story for us to feel proud of. Can't they be just another story? Can't they be simply them? The thing is, we don't let them. They are all same as us, only difference is that they like John not Betty, or they like Shein not Randall- but who they like puts them into a whole new category for us. Because now they have to conform to the "gay" standards to prove their sexual orientation to us. I often think, why do we need people to do this and that just so they can be it for themselves? Or that why people need to be either this person or that person? Why not bits of everything they want to be or are? Being a human, a person, a complexity in itself is a beautiful puzzle- but why does it always have to be in colours we can see?! Why can't it be in shades we've never known, heard of, seen, smelt or even felt on the skin? Why can't it just be?

Having no control over the absolute wreck you call your brain. Thinking in parallel to the speed of light. Millions of thoughts fighting to share the stage in your head even if it's dark all around it. It's chaos. It's life. It's electrically alive.

@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky I had to try👀

Pairing: Soft! Bucky × fem reader! Pregnant

Summary: it's been a good three months since you broke up with your asshole of a boyfriend. Almost 4 months pregnant and working from home leaves you little time to indulge in your cravings but when you smell a divine smell from the next door new neighbour whom you haven't even seen yet, you can't help but go ask for some. Who can stop a pregnant woman from eating what she wants?!

If this isn't hell, what is?! This smell has been taunting you for over a good 30 minutes and you're loosing your mind! Maybe you can go and ask for some. You can't just barge in for food like that! But you can't leave it alone either. So ofcourse, like a good lil' pregnant woman you had to go and bother the nice neighbours. How do I know which neighbours? Well, what do you think I've been doing for the past 30 minutes?! Snooping, of course.

Two knocks and a little bang later, Bucky sighs and finally leaves his cooking to go see who's at the door. He would've never expected a gorgeous but panicked and pregnant young woman standing there with a plate. The moment he opened his door, in proper american terms, you literally went off your rocker.

"Ummh, I was just going to knock once but then you didn't come so I knocked again and then I got anxious, cause like I have bad anxiety, like bad bad anxiety and so I just kicked the door once, sorry about the kick though. I just wa-"

"Hey, hey. It's okay, just breathe. You're okay, alright?"

You nod slowly with a sigh of relief and then smile sheepishly.

"Sorry about that. Uhmm, I just smelled something really good and I had to come ask for some of it! What is it that you're making?"

Bucky laughs softly. Hearing you talk like that about nice and mudane things, oh, he's missed this normal interaction. Ever since he's shifted, he has been couped up in his own apartment for over a week now, and then all of a sudden, this adorable babe comes asking for a helping of his latkes and the world feels warm again.

"Of course, I'll get you some. You wanna come in and see?"

You nod in excitment. Oh! He's very nice, way nicer than your shit piece of a boyfriend. You trod after him slowly, looking around only to find a simple apartment with not much of a personal touch. Frowning a little, you keep pace with your neighbour.

"I'm making latkes actually, they're simply put, potato pancakes, like fritters. C'mon, I can give you some for yourselves and your husband."

Bucky hums softly putting the latkes on your plate but when he looks up he sees you fidgeting and staring at the wall behind his head.

"Hey, you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

You swallow thickly to avoid crying. Pregnancy hormones suck! Clearing your throat you mention.

"I don't have any husband. I threw my last boyfriend's clothes in the building trashcan three months ago.", finishing with your clarification, you smile a wide one.

Bucky tries to hide his surprise at her revelations, you certainly sounds happy to have thrown the clothes in trashcan, he won't ruin it for you by asking useless questions.

He smiles back at you and says softly, "My bad. Then I gues it's more for you and the little one, eh?"

It was a fun evening for you. Eating a full plate of latkes and watching shows. A good end to the weekend you'd even say. But this morning has been annoying as fuck. Having a deadline to meet is already work enough, but now you've to do your laundry too because of course, you forgot to do it this weekend!

You huff and kick the dryer in irritation. Just bloody speed up, you little tin can!

"Are you planning to break it, doll?"

You gasp and turn around quickly. Your new neighbour looks good in almost everything. And right now he's looking very good in a black shirt and blue jeans. As you both stare at each other, for some reason you both start laughing.

"I'm Bucky by the way, you were more focused on the latkes yesterday, we didn't get to sharing names at all."

You flush at that but you know he's right. So, you chuckle and offer your name.

"That's a lovely name, doll. You look like you almost done with all that. What me to carry them up the stairs for you?"

"No, it's okay. I'll..", looking at the laundry basket you sigh, "...do it myself."

Bucky has never seen someone so adorable. The way she's so full of expressions and life, it's beautiful. He smiles softly, something he's been doing a lot since yesterday evening, and offers again.

"Hey, I live next door. It's no bother at all, unless you don't wanna walk with me?", he teases lightly.

You smile but give in easily.

It's been a good 3 weeks since you've known Bucky and you two are almost always spending your free time together. He cooks for you often saying he likes to cook anyway. You both have been have become really good friends and you live every second of it.

Her name's Kristen. Her eyes remind you of your mother so much that the name seems too fitting. Bucky's been a great help. You've come to trust him so much so that for the past two month since Kristen's birth he's even been sleeping on your couch often to help with the baby. You two are friends, but the amount of trust, feelings and care you both have for each other seems more than platonic. You've seen Bucky look at you and Kristen like you both are his whole world and frankly he's a big part of yours too.

"She's sleeping?"

"Yes, just put her to bed. How are you?"

"I'm alright, doll. Are you tired?", when you shake your head he continues, "here, I though I'd bring dinner. It's been long since you had latkes, don't you think?", he smiles lazily.

You chuckle and nod excitedly.

"How's the article coming along, doll? Made any progress?"

"Wish I did. I just need to uncoil you know? I've just been too tense for last few weeks." , and really horny but I can't say that to you just like that, can I?

Bucky looks at you intensely and hums audibly. You stare back, effortlessly and he looks away while walking to the kitchen counter with a small secretive smile. These staring matches have been getting frequent since the last month, sharing the apartment at frequent intervals has changed something between you two and given the stares, you both know it too.

Taking out the plates you put them on the table, all the while Bucky's watching you intensely and you know it. He comes towards you, still staring, but ends up taking out the sauce from the refrigerator beside you.

You are about to open the container to serve the latkes when suddenly his hand brushes yours as he puts the bottle of sauce beside the plates.

You freeze, breathing in sharply. Bucky's still watching you carefully, although the little smirk tells he did that on purpose; but you already know that, don't you?

"What are you trying, Bucky?"

"What, doll? Something the matter?", he smirk grows as he plays pretend.

Weeks of tension and suppressed sexual desire make you throw out caution right out of the bloody window. You pull him by his hair and kiss him roughly, all the while Bucky's participating eagerly.

Without wasting anytime, you both undress each other rapidly as he guides you to the couch, still kissing you deeply. Long minutes of hot passion, moaning, withering and grinding later, you pant harshly and mention "Condom?"

As Bucky extends his hand to bring his pants near, you bite his left cheek softly, "You had this planned you bastard, didn't you?"

He laughs roughly taking out the condom, "I've had enough of the staring, doll. Had to nudge you a little, love."

You both laugh softly as he rolls the condom over. Moaning into his skin as he enters you think, maybe you've finally reached you're happy ending, before loosing your mind to the inescapable passion again.

I would love a very pregnant reader (single, shit ex is out of picture for good) to smell something SO amazing her neighbor is making, her hormones cant hold her back she HAS to know what hes making. She waddles over with a little plate and shyly knocks on his door to ask for a little taste. Bucky thinks shes the most adorable thing hes ever seen as she waddles back to her place, content with his generous portion. It starts off as sweet and platonic and develops into a loving relationship where they also have their own babies together as well

Hi there!

Such a cute premise but I don’t write about pregnancy- sorry!

Pairing: Ransom × female reader

Character taken from: Knives out

Summary: Ransom is an asshole and you can't be kind to him at all for some reason. You've dealt with arrogant people for a good part of your life. But he just make you loose your cool from your fiery personality- not that there was much to start with. And...you finally find out just what makes him shut up.

Warning: Smut, swearing, a little immoral (but hey, as long as it gets u off), illicit mentions.

Please do not blog or repost. Do NOT copy my work. Please reblog, like and comment as you read.

Ransom has always been an asshole; angry and entitled, so much so that he almost ended up in jail. Technically, he did end up in jail, he just never reached there. Accidental swerving of the federal car and his disappearing right after the crash was all just a lovely coincidence- or so the feds think, maybe they won't use the word lovely though.

Settling in when he had no money or taste for cheap stuff was hell, correction- it's still hell. He'll just have to wait it out, maybe Marta will just die. Infact given his family's behaviour she will die anyway and so would her immediate family- just to make sure, it just won't be accidental. Then he can return for his cut, liquidify his assets, get his Beemer back and come live in Europe the life he likes.

Solid plan. Except he can't help but feel like killing certain someone here too and gods help him, very intimately. His bare hands, if he can use them. The woman across his pathetic apartment- if it can even be called one, is a bloody nightmare. A very fuckable nightmare but hells he can't handle her. A fuckable nightmare that is walking right towards him.

You are irritated beyond limits, this asshole has been living across you for over a month and has done everything in his power to burn and boil your blood whenever possible which for him is apparently 24×7.

"Did you really throw coffee in my mail box, you bloody cunt?"

"Now don't go calling me names, sweetheart. People might start seeing just how much you're into me-"

"You slimy motherfucker. I swear to god, Randall-"

With a frown he corrects you by interrupting and inserting, "Ransom, it's Ransom darling. Not like you don't know it."

"Oh, Go fuck yourself Ronny."

"Woman, really! You pull shit like this and then ask why did I throw coffe in your-"

"What do you mean 'shit like this'- not pronouncing your name right, because I don't fucking know it?! "

"I literally JUST told you!"

"STOP YELLING YOU TWO BLOODY YOUNGLINGS!"

Scared shitless of the new voice reaching your ears you turn towards Ms Robinson standing outside her apartment, holding a fork very tightly.

"Go away, you old hag-"

Your eyes widen as Ransom being Ransom deals with situation in the worst style.

"Now liste' here, you goo' for nothin' douche bag, shut up and fuck off. You ruining my Saturday. I hear yelling again and I'll lighta yo ass and yo' home on fire."

You burst out laughing the moment the hurricane of a woman leaves the hallway. Ransom changes his shock into a scowl as he looks at you.

"Everybody knows not to mess with that woman. Where's have been living? Oh god, that was fucking funny, shit!"

You shriek when Ransom grabs your hair and pulls your back into his chest by your hair.

"I've been living right here, arguing my head off with another woman of somewhat similiar temperament. You wanna laugh some more sweetheart?"

His smug tone fires up your temper and you headbutt him into his shoulder, cursing he leaves your hair giving you the space to turn and slap him, hard.

Silence and tense suffocate you as you prepare mentally for his reaction. This has gone too far anyways. But hells you couldn't have prepared for that.

Ransom pulls you by the hair and kisses you harshly. You can't make sense of anything but the fact that you want to kiss him back just as hard, so you do. You rip his jumper off of his shoulder right there in the hallway and he tears off your sleeves. Pulling his hair, you drag him in more and bite his lip. Ransom moans and grabs your hips tight enough to bruise.

This doesn't feel like sex, it feels like much, much, much more fucking intense. It's consuming you both. Suddenly, a sliver of doubt creeps in from somewhere. This is bloody Ransom. And he hates you like you hate him. Coming to your senses, you try to push Ransom off. It doesn't move him a bit but he stops and steps back. Breathing heavily, both of you panting from sexual tension, minimal control and hormones look at each other.

"Do you want to stop, darling?"

There is that word again. Bloody names, but he calls you all of them just to mock you, right? How is he not thinking anything but about sex right now. Does he even give a fuck who he's sleeping with? Of course, not. He'll fuck you just like he fucks every other girl he brings over. But they don't have to live across him, none of them do. So they'll be fine, you won't though.

Sighing, you hug yourself with your arms and nod.

"Yeah, let's not do something this stupid. It was a mistake.", Just to appear nonchalant you add, " and don't pour fucking coffee in my mail box again for fuck's sake, Ransom."

Trying your best to appear indifferent under his intense and curious gaze you walk back to your apartment calmly and lock the door.

Now you want to fuck him too before you kill him, great! But what's the harm ? You can fuck him, what gives? Not like he will act any different, you can do that too. You both will fight like petty idiots but it'll probably end up in good sex atleast. What's the loss?

You open your door to go knock on his while you still have your courage but his smug smile and broad shoulders flare up your temper and take your breath away at the same time.

"I knew you'd come, darling. You just can't avoid playing with fire, can you? Can't admit that you I affect you at all, except your obvious attraction which you never shy of. Leaving no weakness in the open."

"What? You my social worker now?"

Ransom laughs but looks at you with pure hunger, just like you very much are looking at him.

"No darling, I just wanna fuck you. You?"

"Same, darling. I just wanna fuck you too."

"You! Hells."

Still laughing, he takes lengthy strides and pulls you in by the neck for another bruising kiss. You don't disappoint either and pull his hair just like you did a minute before. Kissing and biting softly you both stumble to your apartment shutting the door after.

Before you can break off to take your top off, he rips it off.

Oh, so this is how we're playing.

Without hesitation, you tear his t-shirt off backed by your aderaline flow. Moaning and kissing, your hands roam over his chest and abs as you push him inside your bedroom.

"Bed, now."

"Ordering me around, sweetheart?"

"You want me to grab a condom or not? Don't be sarcastic cunt everytime you open your mouth."

"Oh, I'm opening this mouth for your sarcastic cunt tonight. And I doubt you have a condom my size."

"Cocky, are we?"

He smirks and says, "Literally. Check my pants if you doubt."

"Lying doesn-, holy sh-" , he is huge in a I'll-fill-you-just-the-right-size.

Breathing a long one, you say, "Okay, I'm clean and on pill. You?"

"Clean. You sure you want me to fuck you bare?"

Calming your jitters, you fire back, "Who says you're the one fucking?"

"Oh darling, there's no doubt."

Before he can move you grab him the hair and kiss him with tongue. Pushing him on the bed, you straddle him and grind down his length slowly. He breathes out harshly, grabbing your hips and flipping you on your back.

Kissing, biting, nipping, he covers your shoulders and chest and then reaches your glistening pussy.

"Your sarcastic pussy ready, darling?"

"If you don't drop your asshole attitude for a minute, I swear I will tie you to the bed and and ride you till I come but leave you unfinis- oh fuc!"

"Ever tire of threatning people, babe?"

"Fuck y- Ahh, oh godddd."

You back arches off the bed as he licks with no reserves. His lengthy and forceful stokes are making your toes curl as you softly curse grabbing his hair. This whole thing is so intense that you can't think beyond this bloody pleasure. And when you feel so close, you can't help but beg.

"Ransom, please. I'm close! Oh god, yes, there!"

Your breathing turns harsh as your toes dig into the matteress and your back arches higher but Ransom holds down your hips by your thighs, intensifying the pleasure and you come so hard that you're trembling with sheer pleasure.

"No more threats, love?"

So out of it all, that you don't even notice the sliver of gentleness in his tone or his words. Opening your eyes you stare at him and you tell him the first thing that pops in your head.

"Fuck you."

He laughs and shakes his head at your choice of curse.

"Ironically, you are."

"I thought you were the one going to fuck."

He raises an eyebrow still laughing, " You never step back from having the last word, do you?"

"And you clearly like to hear yourself talk, now lay down and let me ride you."

"Oh, we still debating tha-"

Without waiting for him to complete, you kick his shin lightly and push his chest hard enough to send him on his back while he's distracting speaking. Straddling him again, you take his cock in your hands and pump him firmly.

"No, no debate. I am riding you, babe."

You both moan as his cock enters your soaked pussy. Bracing your hands on his thighs, you start moving rhythmically. Panting, moaning, cursing you both move against each other, sweat covering your bodies and tension climbing your veins.

He touches your clit, massaging it slowly, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as you ride him faster and harder. As you explode, you grip his neck softly, clenching your walls around his cock as tight as you can as you bend down to bite his earlobe. He growls and flips you over in a second and slams into your pussy hard and rough. You moan out loud as he streches out your orgasm, still shivering, as he pumps into you chasing his release, you bite his shoulder as you feel him pulse. He comes within a second.

You both catch your breath as he kisses your forehead.

Yeah, sex definitely isn't a bad way to end fight.

Main pairing: Will Graham × female reader

Summary: Will plans to escape federal custody to gather evidence to prove his innocence but he needs help, more importantly he needs you. So much so, that you don't get to decide if you want to come with him or not.

Warnings: Smut, 18+, mentions of murder, psychiatric facilities and breaking law.

Writer's note: Just a little dark fluff cause I had to write something on Will Graham!

Please don't repost/edit/ blog this story. Do NOT copy my work. Feel free to like, comment and reblog.

The intimacy knowing his mind provided, even a year in his bed couldn't. You do regret not being able to smell him though; the glass between you both hindering the magnificence of his husk, woody smell. He hates it, staying within a place where every day someone's trying to get into his head. And so do you. No matter what they say, you believe Will couldn't have possibly killed them. And it isn't blind belief in him but rather the confidence in your convictions to know his mind.

He doesn't ask it out loud, but his eyes beg you to not judge him- not for the things he says he didn't do. And maybe he knows you believe him to some extents because you're the only psychiatrist he asked for and talks to. You've visited Hannibal too. While you respect the man for his intellect, he has a peculiar aura about him. His charm, insight, love for refined taste in lifestyle and literature- his perfection. It strikes you as odd. You don't believe every accusation Will tossed at the doctor but you do believe it has some truth to it- some story.

It's cold and gloomy to walk in these halls. But you can't really complain, after all it is a psychiatric facility. Your heart beats loud at the prospect of seeing him again.

It was a shock sure- when you recieved word from Dr Chilton that Will Graham requested you to be his psychiatrist and if you're being honest, then probably more shocking than Will getting convicted. Afterall, it's been two years since you last saw Graham. The sessions have been interesting although.

He's already staring at you while you climb down the stairs. His intense stare makes your heart pump faster but you keep your face neutral.

"Hello, Will."

"Dr. L/N."

"How do you feel this morning?"

"Bitter. A little annoying too, possibly. Did you talk to Dr. Chilton about the concept of privacy?"

"He denied your claims.", then offering him a little smirk I mention, "Hoping that he'd stop monitoring our conversations as a professional courtesy or even moral obligation is too much in his case. So, I believe he's still listening in."

Will chuckles and a familiar softness enters his gaze for a moment, reminding you of the times you used to live together.

"Of course, Doctor."

Before your blank mask cracks you push the conversation into safer territory.

"They told me you'd be taken into federal custody this coming Monday?"

"Yes, doc. They denied my plea for insanity."

You observe his face for any clues and you find something you wish you didn't. He can see the moment of clarity, the moment you realise why he's fine with the idea of going to prison for crimes he never claimed as his own despite the evidence against him and he smiles.

You have known for a while that he was leaning towards manipulation. Baiting fish with baits he had never revealed before, you knew for a while that his desperation for someone to believe him, combined with his resentment for the doctor was changing him. But you were sympathetic, you felt it in you that he didn't do it. But now, you're conflicted.

You can't stay quiet. But you have no evidence to support your claim either. Not like you'd give him up just like that. Somewhere within, you know you can't really help him, not with what he really needs the help. It's not his mind that's the issue, it never was. He always has been a man aware of every crook and cranny of his own mind. He was either being framed or he commited every crime in complete concious, but knowing Will like you did, you knew it was the former.

"Will. I would ask you to rethink over your subjective decisions once again."

"I take objectivity in consideration just as much as subjectivity while deciding, doctor. I'm okay with it. Atleast I won't be listened in on every damn second."

His tone is filled with conviction. You know you can't change his mind. Before you can say anything he slowly brings his fingers outside the bars, giving you time to decide if you want to move forward or not. You do. You cover the steps to the bars and reach with your own hand. Shudders go through your hand the moment they touch his.

"Why did you come, Y/N? We don't have any session anymore, doctor?"

"I-", looking at his face you know why you came, "I know you didn't do this. I wish I could help, but what I can give doesn't seem enough."

Shouts ring from the other end of the hallway, telling you to step back. Looking in his eyes, beautiful blue, you tell him one last thing.

"I know. And I understand."

You know he knows what you were talking about the moment his eyes show warmth and turn glassy.

They escort you out of the hall and you leave willingly, still reeling from the intensity of possibly your last encounter with the man you have loved for so long.

Spending the rest of the week with a restless energy because of knowledge you weren't supposed to have irks you. But you worry if he'll be okay? Or if he'll make matters worse if he failed?

Monday is filled with appointments and sessions for you, leaving you too busy to think of Will. The thought creeps out often from the back of your mind but you push it back nonetheless. He will be okay. It's his business anyway, who can say you had any idea of his potential escape anyway. You weren't his psychiatrist anymore, nor are you his lover. You don't need to worry.

Deciding to spend your lunch hours at home, looking over your garden- you drive home. It's quiet here, like usual. Your fingers tremble from time to time when you think of Will, hoping to whatever god that listens that he is atleast alive and okay.

Walking in through your door, you drop you keys on the counter top, taking off your heels. So lost in your thoughts that you miss his smell as he creeps behind you. Freezing when you hear a gun being cocked, you turn around slowly.

"Will."

If it's a plea or relief, you can't tell yourself.

"Well atleast you escaped successfully. What ar-"

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Who'd have believed me?", you scoff to sound believable.

"Jack would've.", his eyes stare you down as if commanding you to tell him the truth. He knows it but he wants to hear you say it. You can see it in his lost eyes.

"I know you're not a killer. I knew escaping was your only option.", looking at his disappointed eyes you can't help but whisper the remaining truth, "And I still care about you, Will."

"Baby-", his eyes water at your admission. The hidden pain all bubbling up to surface. And your heart aches seeing his beautiful face contorted in such a painful expression.

You push his gun aside and bring your hands on his head to bring it to yours. Taking his hand, you both sit on your couch and you tuck his head in your chest as he sobs quietly for all he's gone through the past months.

Minutes later, he's kissing you with a mix of desire and desperation and you comply fervently. Kissing and tasting him like this feels so intimate yet familiar at once, like old times but much more intensified because of the renewed passion and intellectual intimacy. Your conversations with Will these past months have brought you closer to him in a way you never were with him when you two actually dated.

Tugging his hair, you moan into his mouth as he rakes his hand firmly through your hair, down to your breasts. Pressing them firmly but torturously slow he moves you into his lap. Grinding into his lap, you throw your head back as he sucks your chest through your blouse. His pants grow hotter and his grip on your hips tighter as you keep grinding down his covered length faster.

A shrill ring cuts through the lusty fog you both are lost into. You realise it's your phone. Sighing as you peel yourself from his lap while he stares at you with barely controlled desire, you retreat to your discarded handbag.

Taking out your phone, you look at him in panic.

"It's Jack. They know you've escaped. Go! Leave, Will-"

"You don't really believe I just came to ask you a question, do you?"

Realising what he's implying you stare at him in shock.

"Will, No. I can't come. Yo-"

"It isn't a choice, baby.", he slowly picks up his gun as he stands up to walk to me, "I need help and you are the only one who's willing to believe. And after what just happened, there's not just only one reason to bring you with me anymore. You're coming with me."

You sigh in defeat when you see how serious he is. It might take a long while to change his mind. But it seems he knows you'd fight back because next you know he's knocking you on the back of your skull and everything turns black.

I needed this bad!!!

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This is entirely reasonable as an argument. U see sparring and pranking( if a regular custom) in terms of physically harming action is not that bothersome because it technically was something u wanted to recieve and then then willingly counter knowing the limits of how far both u and ur partner could take it all so as to not actually initiate any traumatic experience. Despite it being a physical fight ( inclusive of pain) it would feel safe because of the consistent awareness of how ur partner won't intentionally harm you. But the case mentioned above where a physical injury is inflicted out of extreme and uncontrollable 'love' is ABUSE.

The fact that it was done out of too much overwhelming emotions on parts of the abuser does not excuse the fact that it was abuse. See, Percy might 'laugh' after it- but a normal human who just suffered that much shit won't come back to a loved one to accept more affection in form of abuse. They wouldn't prefer to be back flipped rather than hugged warmly by someone who they too ,love too much to express. It's not okay to be an asshole because u can't find the right act of affection because of your overflowing love for someone- no matter what gender such sentiments belong to. Being kind matters, and talking is always an option.

Percabeth shippers will act like being abusive is a flex and get away with it

The problems I face are not made for any finite state automata model, so to assume a book would solve it is hopeless. But I was born hopeless, so I like this post.

Sometimes the writer agenda is writing about your deepest, most animalistic kinks and attributing it all to your dead friend wanda.

Sometimes the writer agenda is just starting intensely at your wip and hoping it will eventually complete itself

All this is so disheartening. We see this happen and most of us don't question thinking authority knows better. But do they really? DO they? No, they are people in power, and parity is not their motto apparently because all they do is take away dreams that those with extra struggles on their plate (for almost all their life so far) have nurtured. This is wrong. This is discrimination. This is a fucking attack in a world we live in. This is one of the worst and discriminating power moves ever.

The Olympics are really coming for Black people this year....

It ain't just She'Carri Richardson

"I care bout some people, but to assume they give a shit bout your self respect, your sensitive nature or you in general is the worst lie i tell myself everyday. You try to let their behaviour be ignored once, twice but everytime? It's only a matter of time before i go touch some grass. Someone who actually gives a damn bout me at all will not just toss hurtful shit everytime he/she feels like it and then be all guilty. Fuck them."

That's it, that's the post.

We all say be brave, be proud, be assertive. But we have to understand too that merely words don't heal wounds. Those who have suffered because of this world's unacceptable discrimination can't simply stand up unless you give a hand and your call to be brave is not a helping hand. Please understand that you telling them something they already know but are unable to do makes them more embarrassed of their own trauma. They assume their struggles make them weak and thus don't talk about it to people. But we need to encourage them to believe they are strong. They don't have to be anything, they already are so much and after what misery they survived they deserve to feel victimized, sad, betrayed and hurt. It's only natural.

Taxes. EVERY rich person hoarding money in banks and as assets is not paying tax properly. That kind of ideal sudden is fucking hypocritical. Secondly the taxes go to govt. who uses it for public but remember, not every govt focuses on individual survivals in their nation. They work on plans that will yield back too be it politically or in terms of capital simply. People in power have their own agendas. Simply speaking taxes, investment banks etc. will not help those with survival battles. I am not saying that people with money should just give away everything, nor am i being judgemental about it. What i mean to say is that, those who sit at the top and earn a huge chunk every minute of the day by average even when they are sitting in the comfort of their homes or offices because those under them are still working to earn the next pay, need to realise they are exploiting way more than they deserve because they have a leg up.

If you have billions of dollars it shouldn’t be a crime to steal from you. You’ve got enough money that your security should be your own responsibility and anyone who manages to swipe from your hoard deserves applause for besting a supervillain

I have often thought about this and yes, simply earning something doesn't imply that you put your best work there. We should realize that we are living in a complex society, so much so that the chain of work to result is rather straight than a loop. The real work is not paid for enough and people with power keep manipulating loads to themselves rather than taking only enough for what they truely do. Just because we have something infront of us doesn't make it our possession, we should be aware of when we are exploiting someone else's share just because they can't reach it but we can.

If you have billions of dollars it shouldn’t be a crime to steal from you. You’ve got enough money that your security should be your own responsibility and anyone who manages to swipe from your hoard deserves applause for besting a supervillain

Hi, I'm a woman in a post apocalyptic society and i fuck jason every night with no protection and fear of pregnancy.

hello there i'm a woman in a post apocalyptic society and i wake up every day with perfect eyeliner and zero body hair

Will you stay?

When life says a big FUCK YOU to my face and I become the devil in disguise commiting homocide of million of smiles that may come knocking on your door!

When I become a bigger DICK than LUCIFER himself and start painting a canvas with the the poison of hatred for something I myself am unaware of?Will you still look at me like I am the world to you?Will you still say,"You are my soul broken or not.....I still am yours."?

—————life.....