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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

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Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.

Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.

Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.

If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).

That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.

As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.

Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.

Enjoy!

A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.

Word Count: 1,752

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There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.

Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.

Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.

Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.

The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.

Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.

It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.

The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.

"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"

It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.

"I am everything."

They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.

"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"

The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.

"It is the truth."

A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.

"Yeah, alright."

"Who are you?"

"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"

The demon shrugged.

"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."

"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."

Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.

He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.

"I told you."

"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"

The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"So, you let me catch you."

"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."

"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."

The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.

"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.

Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.

"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."

He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.

They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.

"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."

"And you are?"

"No."

"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.

"Far from it. I don't like being seen."

"But you're letting me see you."

"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."

Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.

"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."

"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."

Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.

"I have power enough."

"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"

"Are you suggesting a deal?"

The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.

"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."

"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.

"Not on purpose but I supose so."

The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.

"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."

"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."

A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."

Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.

"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."

"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Not at all."

The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.

"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."

"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.

He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.

"We all take what we are given."

"I suppose."

Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.

"If you will be the face, I will be the force."

"No soul binding."

"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."

Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.

"Not an overlord yet."

----

tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #they/them reader #alastor x reader #the radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader

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iraprince · 11 months

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I love the entire concept of Cookie... the look, the fashion, the gender... Would you mind telling us a little more about him? I'm also intrigued about why she's named Cooking with Gorgeous!

HI i would LOVE to talk about george thank you so much. also this makes me realize i've never actually sat down and just made a post unabashedly infodumping at length abt an oc before and it seems silly that i haven't. i ask only for all dear readers to please temper their expectations for this post with the knowledge that i just smoked half a joint before sitting down to answer it. a small one. but still. anyway

FIRST OF ALL FOR THE UNACQUAINTED THIS IS COOKING WITH GORGEOUS, aka cookie or george for short. he uses he/him and she/her pronouns interchangeably!

hi sorry that's not cookie that's a horse in a bridal veil that i. found in my stuff while trying to scroll and find my cookie art. i just got distracted and had to show you. okay no for real here's cookie

he's the character i'm playing in a playtest campaign of the absolutely mesmerizing sapphicworld, an in-development ttrpg!!! and if i'm going to be talking about cookie i feel like i HAVE to say i think a huge amount of her charm and dazzle and charisma comes directly from the charm and dazzle and charisma of the setting i created her for. i know i am laying it on really thick right now but that is on purpose. i want, desperately and unashamedly, for this game to get really popular bc 1. it's genuinely that good. and it's not even DONE yet and 2. i want everyone to get into it so that everyone will make sapphicworld characters and then i'll get to see everyone's sapphicworld characters.

EDIT i'm scrolling back up here and adding a readmore bc this is already getting so long lol. you asked for "a little more" and apparently i have graciously decided this means "literally every fact about cookie that exists in my brain"

SO a lot of the info/tidbits i haven't shared about cookie are i guess gameplay-specific stuff... his title (which is like a class/playbook) is "The Noble Sweetheart," though in sapphicworld "nobility" no longer has anything to do with wealth or class, and is instead entirely about amassing a court purely via devotion/popularity; her subculture (which is like, Who You Hang Out With; drifters, goths, poets, debauchers, cowpokes, etc) is Babe; and her kind (which is like ancestries but in sapphicworld is really just like, a physical form, which u can change more or less at will) is Lunarthrope, which is basically a werewolf!! or more broadly a furry, since u always look like whatever were-animal you are 24/7. just MORE at night, tho i suppose i don't represent that aspect much in my cookie art... ANYWAY i am restraining myself from just sitting here and like. transcribing her entire character sheet. but basically what all this means is that cookie's role in the world (at least at the beginning of the campaign) is "Professionally — no, VOCATIONALLY Hot Person who everyone loves so so so so so so much." cookie really enjoys this role.

he's named cooking with gorgeous because he's an avid cook, and he wants to share that with you, and he's gorgeous!! though honestly the cooking hasn't ended up as important to his character as it was when i first came up with him, lol — but my initial concept was kind of like, what's the equivalent of a bouncy normie recipe blogger/lifestyle influencer but in the context of the lush horny trans deathless psychedelic universe of sapphicworld. and it's cooking with gorgeous, a doggirl dyke with big blue boobs (six of them!!) who is so devastatingly cute and darling that a bunch of people just kind of pledge their fealty to him for no real reason other than he feeds them. and is cute

also her name is def influenced by the fantastic names of many canon sapphicworld npcs! like, quick example list of some npc names off the top of my head: the booty commie, death cybernetic, princess eureka!, the culinary goof (whom cookie dislikes. btw.), pizza friday (whom cookie loves!!!)

cookie is very very determined, and she's ALMOST always very confident. even when she isn't feeling confident, she's still very good at forcing herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other — maybe just while screaming or crying or uncontrollably barking or at least very ardently complaining. he has a tendency to be spoiled and, like, tactless-via-obliviousness, so sometimes he can be grating to interact with, and he has a petty/vindictive streak; but in general he's an AGGRESSIVELY kind person and usually aims all his shrill, cheerful stubbornness directly toward the goal of refusing to accept anything but the best for everyone.

at the beginning of our campaign cookie has JUST received a brand new castle!!!! (chateau gorgeous.) which he doesn't actually "own" bc, remember, no wealth or class in sapphicworld, but he's the ENTHUSIASTIC new caretaker and is chomping at the bit to renovate it so ppl can live there and he can throw a bunch of magnificent parties and basically continue living exactly as he has been, But Even More Fabulous. obviously this is exactly when the main plot threat of the campaign shows up and spoils everything and compels cookie to go on his First Ever Adventure!!!!!! she HAS to save the world otherwise NOBODY will be able to go to the first big party at chateau gorgeous :((((

at this point to prevent myself from just like, giving you guys a play by play of the entire campaign so far i am going to just start listing every cookie fact i can think of as bullet points

🎀 he owns a magical sword in the shape of a giant microplane. it's called The Microplane. he pronounces this "mee-crow-plah-nay"

🎀 george desperately wants to resurrect The Dog-Lich, an entity that once ruled over all beasts from its palace on the moon but was murdered and torn to pieces in a cosmic war far in the past. her attitude towards this desire is 50% devoted lunar cultist, 50% parasocially obsessive twitter stan

🎀 this isn't really a cookie fact but going back to how his title is The Noble Sweetheart — just for a glimpse at party composition, his fellow party members' titles are The Intimate Scholar, The Tentacle Advocate, and The Tw*nk Controversial (the * is the canon spelling).

^ aforementioned tw*nk. its name is Mwah ("pronounced like the kiss you blow at someone you just fucked over"). mwah is played by @/squiddelyfather on twitter!

🎀 mwah and cookie used to be very, very tight, BEFORE mwah became the tw*nk controversial. now that it's so.... you know.... controversial, well. they're still very close, but it has gotten a little stilted and weird (and watching them slowly un-weird it together as the campaign goes on has been one of my fav roleplay experiences ever honestly)

🎀 cookie's other adventuremates, skarligge and delaryn, are both very indulgent towards him. delaryn acts the most grumpy/dismissive about it but is honestly sometimes the worst about spoiling cookie out of anyone in the party (skarligge's player is twt@/clown_dream and delaryn's is twt@/glaiveguisarme and hey while im at it our fantastic gm is the sapphicworld dev, twt@/ddemoneclipse. hi guys i hope u don't mind me chattering abt ur ocs here lol it's just hard to talk abt the best of cookie w/o bringing up everyone else's characters and roleplay also!!!)

🎀 cookie is very VERY sensitive and will burst into tears at the drop of a hat. the precursor to this is her eyes getting So So So Big And Wet And Round. one of my favorite bits to menace the other party members with is when something is not going cookie's way i will lean into my mic and say "cookie's eyes are getting so so so big. they're getting so big and wet and round and shiny. they're so so round and fucking big her eyes are like big wet black glass marbles" and this is like kryptonite to them. this is like getting hit with deadly radiation

🎀 oh speaking of fashion!!!! one of cookie's perks from being a Babe is that she can always change her look whenever she wants. she will ALWAYS have whatever outfit she needs and can quickchange instantly. wait this reminds me i have a bunch of seasonal holiday outfits sketched out and i don't think i've ever posted them here but it'll only let me put one more image in this post. well here have this one

🎀 okay well suddenly i have forgotten all other george facts so that's all for now!!! from now on i will try to just dump oc facts like this more often tho this is really fun. ty for getting me going lol!!!

#my ocs #my art #cooking with gorgeous #sapphicworld

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squids-comics · 5 months

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So, I've been thinking about Spider-Punk a lot (as I normally do) and noticed a fun little detail that made me appreciate the punk side of the Marvel universe a lot more.

Remember in Edge of Spider-Geddon #1 when Kang the Conglomerate came to Earth to kidnap Hobie so he could turn him into a highly marketable punk poser?

This is a pretty clear reflection on how Marvel may treat Hobie in the future. Marvel's a company looking for profit, not societal change. Over time, Hobie will have his rough edges smoothed out to make him more marketable. And we can already see this in action! Edge of Spider-Verse #1 opened with Hobie beating a nazi (Thunderstrike) with a baseball bat.

(I cropped out the nazi and the dialogue about the nazi before I posted this. Thanks past me. I'm sticking with this though cause I'm too lazy to grab a different pic. Go read the comic yourself! It's great!)

Contrast that to his own series where he's all happy and bubbly with his Spider-Band, going on a road trip in his Spider-Van.

As much fun as I had reading Hobie's series, it does significantly round his edges and soften him up. Edge #1 made a point of Hobie's hatred of the name Spider-Punk. He thought it was demeaning, and wanted to be called Spider-Man like the rest of the Spider-Verse. This point is completely dropped in his series (titled Spider-Punk), where people call him Spider-Punk and he offers no resistance.

While these apparent changes are a little disheartening to see, it has made me appreciate Edge of Spider-Verse #1 a good deal more. The writers saw what was coming, and warned us. Which brings us to the point of this post. They weren't just warning us about Hobie, he was just the most obvious.

Edge #1 also introduced us to Hobie's good friend and partner in punk, Captain Anarchy.

Apart from being a variant of Captain America who's name keeps the same initials, Captain Anarchy is also the name of a song by the punk band Anti-Flag. The song is about someone who is punk in name alone, who has the aesthetic of a punk without the heart behind it, a punk poser. In case you don't want to listen to the song (which you should, it's good) here's the chorus to give you the gist.

Whether intentional or by accident, the allusion to this song is a genius choice that warns us this entire punk branch of of the Marvel Universe could very easily be punk in looks alone if given the wrong writer. It's a very neat detail that I just found out today, and one I thought I'd share with you guys! Thanks for reading!!

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yiminsuu · 1 year

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No Control

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes (+18), dubious consent, unprotected sex, (semi) public sex, breeding, some fluff and angst, La Plaga acts like an aphrodisiac, mutual pining, reader and Leon are bad at communication.

Author’s Note: People don't know how invested I am in the Resident Evil games right now, if I loved the original games you can imagine how much I adore the remakes. Also, I've been having the most horrid of writing blocks in existence, I had this draft for 2 months! 2 MONTHS!!

Roaming around the castle with, apparently, no exit, is frustrating and even more so when you think your friend can't be as dumb as people think she is, but here we are, Ashley has gone missing once more and I'm stuck with Leon, who is sick with La Plaga and refuses to take a minute to regain strength by resting. My worries grow the more we proceed, and it seems he is obsessed with taking all the hits to himself, even though I can use a gun. I'm not the one the government is looking for, I know very well no one is looking for me, and if Leon hadn't found me I wouldn't be alive to see Ashley or, for lack of better words, to see her running around the castle to supposedly keep us safe.

"Are you sure you are alright?" I spoke, receiving a glance from Leon as we make our way through a corridor. "I should be the one asking you that, that knife stab was not pretty." I refuse to let myself be the damsel in distress, and I admit I can do many things if you give me a weapon, but in the last attack we were surrounded by the monks. The excruciating pain came as a shock, I couldn't move and my scream must have made Leon panic because his attention went immediately to me and the wound on my shoulder. "Do you need me to change the bandage?" I shook my head and lowered my gaze, letting the silence invade the space. I don't know if he can feel the tension, but dammit, ever since this Ada appeared out of nowhere there was this tightness in the air I couldn't quite grasp. I'm afraid Leon isn't as talkative as he was a few hours ago and I wonder why, he makes sure I'm protected even if I don't need it... Most of the time... And he refuses to make eye contact. Perhaps I did or said something he didn't like but I don't really see him as the type to hold a grudge against something like that, Leon doesn't believe it, but he literally is an angel.

Suddenly, Leon halts all of his movements and holds his head tightly in his hands, grunting in pain as he fell to his knees. We need to get to a safer area, La Plaga surely is a son of bitch to deal with. I placed his arm around my neck and helped him to move before someone sees us, clenching my gun in rising stress. "(Y/N)..." He muttered my name in a very low tone, he's completely out of it. I took Leon for as long as I could before he let himself fall to his knees again, his back hitting the wall abruptly. "Leon? Hey, stay with me. I'll give you some medicine and I'll go look for Ashley." As soon as I said that, his pained expression was gone, replaced by an alarmed one. "You can't go on your own...!"

"We have to save Ashley, and you are too weak because of the virus. I'll be fast." Leon's hand grabbed my arm harshly, and I'm sure it was going to leave a mark soon. In reality, he looked a lot sicker than I thought he would, his eyes were changing to red little by little, and even like this, he refused to look at me. "I don't..." He whispered, I furrowed my brows in concern. "Want you to die..." I once wondered why he seemed closed off, so serious and quiet, his kind demeanor quickly rushed away those thoughts but this surely answered many questions I couldn't ask him for obvious reasons.

I sighed deeply, sitting next to him and doing my best to calm down as he laid his head on my shoulder. We're not safe anywhere, so once someone finds us it will be game over, strangely, we haven't seen any enemy for the past 40 minutes.

Time goes by and we rest as much as we can in the lone room, I would occasionally touch Leon's head hoping he hasn't caught a fever, unfortunately, he was starting to burn up and I know it wasn't from walking under the cold rain. I kneel away and gain an unhearable mumble from the man, and checking on him closely, I see his rapidly rising chest, reddened cheeks, and hair disheveled from the short nap. "What is it doing to you?" I questioned confused, and slightly panicked when Leon opened his eyes to stare at me, pupils dilated and red with something I couldn't identify. "Leon...?" Slowly, he moved his legs apart and set down the shotgun, my eyes widened.

The bulge in his pants was massive.

A whimper escaped from my lips before I recomposed myself, is this one of the side effects of La Plaga?

Leon looked embarrassed beyond belief, trying to hide his face as much as possible. "I want to touch you." He started. "I need to... You have to get away." Leon... Wants to touch me?

No. This is not Leon, it's La Plaga speaking and messing with his body and mind, I have to find Luis as soon as possible and destroy the virus. "Hang in there." With that, I immediately ran away, but my heartbeat increased when the sound of footsteps caught up to me, crying loudly when two arms elevated me from behind. "Leon! Let me go--!" Before I know it, Leon lowered us, pressing my body onto the ground as his weight settles over my back. A groan escaped my lips, ready to grab my gun just to be swiftly incapacitated by the agent. "Leon...!"

"Quiet." Eyes widening at the deep sound of his voice, I noticed his breathing worsening the more he let the parasite take control. His hands shook and he slowly held up my leg to allow me to turn around, out of sympathy for someone I consider a friend, I stared into Leon's eyes. The sight broke my heart, he looked aroused, confused, a flushing mess of a guy that has an idea of what is about to happen. His brows furrowed the more tightly he grabbed on my clothing, just to have it ripped within a second, my only undergarments being my panties. I couldn't help but shiver from the cold surroundings. Leon bit his lip and glared at his own impotence to control the parasite, his firm, calloused fingers caress a smooth path along my skin before gently spreading my legs.

"It's okay..." Leon looked at me, bewildered at my words. If there was no way of escaping this, then at least we can make each other feel better somehow. "Just... Do what you have to do. I-I'll be fine..."

Leon closed his eyes slowly and with a shaky breath, his knife sliced my last remaining decency and he cupped my cunt, both of us became acutely aware of just how wet I am. It would be a lie to claim Leon is not good-looking, a good guy, and perhaps I'm the bad one because I found myself daydreaming of him like this. The touch felt heated, the pressure is delicious, and I can’t help but push my hips up, seeking more contact, more friction, just more of Leon... But his hand is already moving away. The tip of one finger slides a line to my clit, and my whole body jolts at the electric contact, his nervous pants are hot as he made slow, precise circles over and over on my clit. Then his hand dips lower, sinking two thick fingers into me. It punches the air out of me, leaving only an ache, my mind feels raw around the edges, fuzzy with the sharp spike of heat spearing through me.

I know what he's doing, Leon doesn't want to hurt me, but he's letting it harm him the more he tries to restrain it. He pulled his hand away, it’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, I watch him through half-lidded eyes, breath panting as my lungs squeeze painfully tight in my chest. I heard the sound of a belt amongst our hard breathing, he sounded relieved for a second. I shivered when I felt his tip pressing against my hole, Leon holds himself there, and I spasm in place while the wait becomes excruciating. I don’t know what he’s doing until I hear the inhale of a breath.

"I'm sorry..."

Then I feel everything, pain, pleasure, warmth, the sensation of being filled without mercy. I moaned, his hand firm on my waist as he pins me down. His jaw tenses, watching himself slide out me slowly, waiting for some type of signal that would mean he can and should stop, but nothing comes, in fact, it makes it worse. Leon is looming above me, wrapping one hand around his slick cock, wet with pre-come dripping from the flushed tip. "Fuck..." He muttered, yanking me even closer toward him and notching the tip of his cock at my entrance. I braced myself for penetration, anticipating the stretch of him with a pathetic whimper.

The first slide as he filled me up again with his cock is fucking heaven, a sweet aching stretch that sends pleasure singing out along my every nerve. My thighs tremble, my body arching against him without any input from me, clenching down around his girth while my vision flickered. Leon groaned shamefully, he sounded desperate the faster he moved, I swear I can see fucking stars. He doesn’t stop, he can't, he thrusts himself into me with harsh, deep thrusts and pleasure spreads up my stomach, twining along my legs, and I can feel my orgasm building already.

My breath comes out as a sob, tears stinging my eyes as my cunt clenched and squeezed around the hardness of his cock, twitching and jerking in response. A hand rested against my cheek, it didn't slow Leon's motions, but it was the softest response I had from him since this whole ordeal started. I placed my hand on his in response to his concern, and those beautiful eyes of his slammed shut, biting out a curse.

If this wasn't caused by a lethal virus I would be happy to think he feels the same way, but shit... Even if this is only to aid him a little I don’t mind being a cum bucket for a few hours. Muscles contract and clutch down in a way that's beyond my control when I'm rewarded with more deep thrusts. My eyes widened when he touched my cervix, making me whimper loudly. "L-Leon!!" It’s maddening, pleasure shoots through my entire being before rolling my eyes back and cumming around his cock...

He doesn't stop, Leon doesn't stop-- Fuck! He's not stopping!

I try to push him away from me, but it's all for naught as he relentlessly thrusts himself into me. "Almost, I'm almost there..." He spoke, his skin slapping against mine with no signs of stopping soon. Fucking liar, trying to make me feel better when we know it feels like we're both going to die. "Look at me, (Y/N)... Don't close your eyes." Slowly but surely, I indulged, and all I can see is his eyes burning into me, pupils blown so wide that they were almost pitch black. Leon's intense gaze fixed on me is like I'm the only thing that exists to him, I want him to stop, but I'm too far gone to say any word.

We're stripped of thinking at this point, Leon is going feral little by little and he's not letting me go, I doubt he will try to control La Plaga again. I screamed whenever he would hit my cervix, unable to close my mouth if only for shame, but I'm blissed out of my mind and overstimulated. I met his dark gaze, finding his eyes on my body once more, maybe he hasn't stopped staring at all. "Stop-- F-Fuck! Staring--!" I choked on a moan, it was barely coherent, but somehow I managed to get the words out. With a startled yell, I was pulled to his lap and sighed in relief at the change of position. "Better?" Leon whispered into my ear, once I nodded, he began thrusting as if he has the stamina to last a lifetime.

My hands clenched on his shirt, mentally cursing again and again at how perfectly he fills me, he's hitting every right spot. Leon puts a hand across my hair, his eyes softening and planting small kisses on my shoulder and neck to calm me down, repeating that he'll be over soon, that he's sorry. The sweet burning ache builds immediately, deep and consuming, the blissful pleasure swirls tight and insistent somewhere deep in my belly. I can't recognize any more words outside of my own, but Leon's voice is gentle, the softness is in direct contrast to the way I'm crying and begging. I reached up and tangled my hand in his hair, drawing him closer so I can kiss him.

Leon's arms come around me as his hips thrust up, a small cry coming out of my mouth as he licked my lips. He groaned, hips adjusting his angle, arms pulling me down greedily so I can meet his non-stopping strikes, again and again with a hard and rough pace. With this new position, it doesn’t take me long to feel that familiar warmth, all I can do is cling to him as everything inside me intensifies in every sense of the word. "(Y/N)..." Pleasure spills over my body, it's chaotic and too much, bright spots blinding my vision as I come, harder than I ever have in my life, and squirting all over Leon's shirt and lap.

Leon still isn’t stopping, pushing deep into me as his thrusts don’t slow even when his cum coats my walls, a broken gasp escaping him. "F-Fuck, Leon!" The blinding bliss spikes through my blood, hot and piercing. It’s pitiful the way I'm sobbing and whining as he continues relentlessly with his strokes until both of us are completely spent. Finally, he stills, collapsing on the ground with me above him, and we lay there like that for a long moment, panting in absolute euphoria.

I feel sleepy and sated, with all the stress of being hunted down this was like a breath of fresh air, and reality went blurry and faded at the edges. "Didn't think this would happen, but thanks..." Leon said, panting. I hummed, trying to calm my heartbeat. "Sorry about your clothes."

I snickered at his awkwardness after such intense sex. "I doubt you are." The silence came back, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, his arms were hugging my form and I felt safe and protected. Then he sat with me resting against him. "I'm alright, seriously. Still, I doubt I will be able to walk for a while."

Leon looked away embarrassed but turned back to me, kissing my forehead. "Wanna get coffee after this?"

I smiled tiredly, but deep down the feeling of joy flourished. "Yeah, now go on and look for some clothes, I don't want Ashley to ask."

#resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil imagine #oneshot

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anashins · 1 year

Note

hiii!!! i've been reading most of your works and i absolutely love them 😭 idk if you're accepting reqs but i've had this idea of a situationship/fwb jaehyun but he's secretly completely whipped for her and super soft w her. if you do end up making this a story thank you so much!! you're amazing 😌

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Jaehyun gets hit on at a party, but he has his eyes on one girl only, even though he claims he doesn't do relationships.

A/N: Funny, someone requested this for Yongie too 😍 Thank you, I hope you like it 💗

Jaehyun stood in the corner of the room, a slight smile on his face. Not his usual smirk when he was lowkey judging with an underlying mocking expression, or his haughty grin when he found something funny, but not hilarious enough to actually laugh out loud about it.

No, his smile was earnest, faint and emphasized a softness in his facial features that he rarely ever showed to anybody, a look simultaneously getting mirrored in his eyes that one needed to be very lucky to actually witness even once in their lifetime.

Because it was an expression he had reserved for one girl only.

“What a lame party, hm?”

He hadn’t noticed how he had been approached by a girl he didn’t know. She had long, dyed hair and wore an outfit that indicated this party was not her last stop, but a club which she would still visit later on.

Jaehyun shrugged indifferently, turning his head back to where his attention had been before - his girl laughing and joking around with her friend group. “I don’t think so. It’s okay.”

“But you look lonely though,” she continued talking,”standing here all by yourself.”

He smirked now, judging her with an underlying mocking expression. “I promise you, I’m not lonely. I’m just enjoying my spare time away from the crowd.”

It was the little, ordinary things that his girl was doing he was so intrigued with. If he could, he would stand in this corner the entire night as long as he could watch her enjoy herself. It made him happy too and he didn’t ask more of the night.

“Are you interested in going to a club?” She didn’t give up despite Jaehyun’s passive demeanor that he expressed through his folded arms and absent gaze. “My new acquaintance Johnny, who you’re also friends with, suggested that you should go with us. He said you liked that certain club.”

Jaehyun remembered how he used to party at that club every weekend, sometimes even on weekdays, not caring whether he’d show up to class still hungover or not attend at all. However, a few weeks ago, it all had changed with his girl.

“I pass.”

He already wanted to let out a sigh of relief as he thought the girl might go away after rejecting her offer, but she didn’t. Instead, Jaehyun felt her fingers on his skin, gripping onto his forearm. It wasn’t a particular strong or demanding touch, tender even. But it wasn’t by his girl, and he despised it because of that which was why he shook her off.

“I thought we could maybe get a few drinks, dance and…” She lowered her voice, not at all bothered by his withdrawal. “.. you know, when we decide to go home.”

Oh, he did know what kind of reputation he used to have. Which was why he was grinning haughtily now, entirely proud of himself to have left this exact reputation behind. Unofficially. “I pass.”

“What?” Getting rejected so straight-forwardly, the girl apparently hadn’t expected it. “You have a girlfriend or something? Johnny said you didn’t.”

Damn that Johnny guy. He had provoked him on purpose after having lured out his true feelings one night. Of course Jaehyun didn’t have a girlfriend. He just didn’t do “girlfriends”. But he did “somethings”, although this “something” went further than any “something” he had ever had before.

Jaehyun wanted to deny before it dawned on him that it wouldn’t make his situation better without disclosing that there was one girl only he wanted to go home with tonight, and she certainly wasn’t his girlfriend.

That was until something from the corner of his eyes caught his attention. His girl went for her fourth glass despite knowing that she didn’t tolerate more than three. She never learned. Silly.

“Excuse me.”

Leaving the girl who hit on him behind, Jaehyun went with a tunnel vision to the one he had never let out of his sight, stretched out his arm and took the new filled glass out of her hands.

“What are you doing?” she complained with a playful pout.

He sighed deeply as though annoyed, with his soft smile that had found its way back to his face because of her. But she didn’t see. “You know very well that you’re a lightweight.”

“That will be my last one.”

“Really? The last time you said that, I had to carry you all the way to your bed and you passed out while-”

“NO!” she squealed and put her palm over his mouth to silence him. “Don’t you dare speak it out!”

“Now be a good girl and let me drink this. And after I’ve emptied this glass, we’re leaving. This party is lame.”

“Really?” She looked to her left and right. “I don’t think-”

But Jaehyun leaned in and said something into her ear that only she could hear. Her reaction was always the same when he whispered the dirty things he would do to her when they’d finally be alone: wonder, amazement, then embarrassment. But she would always agree with a heated head that let his heart almost unnoticeably jump.

“Your place or mine?” she only wanted to know.

____

You woke up with a headache the next morning, your mouth dry and eyes still half closed. Like usually after a party, you wanted to stay in bed for a little longer, especially since today was a sunday. Jaehyun was surely long gone after you had passed out, which was why you also didn't bother getting dressed now and just rolled to the other side of the bed that was somehow still warm.

Odd, you thought, but not odd enough to put more thought into it, you just wanted to sleep. That was until you heard it rumbling in the kitchen.

With a start, you were sitting upright in your bed, getting dressed before hurrying to find out who had broken into your apartment or whether you had taken someone entirely else home and Jaehyun had only been a fever dream, because he usually never stayed the night.

“Good morning.”

But the one you encountered in your kitchen with messy hair and only in his boxers, frying an omelet was indeed Jaehyun. The guy who claimed he didn’t do relationships, who didn’t stay overnight because it was similar to dating for him, and who certainly didn’t cook you breakfast. You must still be dreaming.

“Are vegetables in your omelet okay?” he asked without any care in the world, and you only brought yourself to nod, still baffled.

While he was cooking, you watched his defined back and his hair moving with every motion, until you realized that this was surely not a dream at all. This was very much a reality you had always dreamed of.

Then, you approached him from behind and wrapped your arms around his sides, nudging into his chest. You didn’t speak a word. You didn’t need to. Jaehyun continued cooking like you were not currently blocking his area, totally unbothered.

And then, you felt in the middle of your parting the warm touch of his lips on the top of your head.

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x you #nct x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop x you #kpop x reader #requests

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tinydefector · 14 days

Note

Other characters' reactions to Megatron in a romantic relationship with human liaison reader.

Question's and Quiries

Megatron x human reader

Warnings: non

Word count: 1.6K

Request and ask open read pinned post.

__________________

Many aboard the Lost Light would be shocked and concerned to discover Megatron in a secret relationship with the human ambassador for the ship. As Ex leader of the Decepticons, whose sole purpose has been conquest and destruction, becoming emotionally attached to an organic seemed unfathomable to many of the bots.

Word of the unlikely pairing would spread quickly through the vessel's corridors and hab suites. Many Autobots who suffered under Megatron's tyranny for vorns would recoil in disbelief and distrust, and even other bots more worried about the human, were they in a decent state of mind, were they being threatened?. Even neutral crew members found it difficult to accept. Had their captain truly changed after all this time? Or had he simply developed a new, disturbing method of manipulation? Either way, keeping the ambassador closely aligned posed serious risks.

Rodimus was the first to hear rumours among the crew of the Lost Light that Megatron had taken a human ambassador aboard as something more than a diplomatic liaison. He had heard it from Swerve who had apparently heard Megatron drunkenly confess he adored them, loved them even.

"Megatron? In a relationship with an organic?" Rodimus laughed incredulously. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Maybe if it was Optimus, but Megatron? He hates all other lifeforms." Rodimus had stated which made Swerve hit him with a cloth.

"I'm telling you he was mopping around the bar drinking Energex like it was nothing, trying to work on poetry, he's fraggin smitten with the Ambassador!" Swerve states while cleaning more glasses.

"The mech may scare the shit out of me but he becomes a sobbing mess when drunk, I can see why he never drunk during the war, could have ended it so much earlier with a drunken poetry night" Swerve jokes, trying to calm his own racing spark after the earlier interaction with the ex warlord.

Swerve, ever the gossip made news spread like wildfire.

Rodimus, Tailgate, Cyclonus and Skids and heard it from him. Rodimus told it to Drift who told it to Ratchet, tailgate told it to Whirl who shouted about it publicly. Skids had told it to Rung, who in turn relayed it to Ultra Magnus.

"Can you believe it?" Swerve asked other members at his bar, optics wide. "The big, bad tyrant of the Decepticons has gone soft! I never thought I'd see the orn." Though said lightly, there may be an undercurrent of hope in his voice.

Tailgate, on the other hand, would be fearful yet curious. A secret admirer of the human ambassador, they were friends in his eyes, he nonetheless knows of Megatron's violent past. The idea of a human so close to the warlord would fill him with terror...yet also he himself was with a Decepticon, ex decepticon.

As for Cyclonus, his reaction is the hardest to read. Stoic and stalwart, the former Decepticon says little. But observation of his microexpressions hints at deep surprise.

When Rodimus approaches Drift with a similar story, having heard it from several sources, Drift doubts begin to fade, he had watched them for a while but now it seemed as if he theory had been confirmed. "This can't be true... Can it? Why would Megatron bother with a human?, he isn't very... open to contact”

From there Drift finds himself in the medibay, Ratchet let out an exasperated sigh when Drift told him about the rumours. "Megatron, caring for an organic? I'll believe it when I see it with my own optics. That mech is still as twisted and dangerous as ever, no matter who he chooses to consort with.”

When news finally reached Magnus, an emergency session was called. Shouting matches erupted as Rodimus and Ultra Magnus demanded explanations, one in shock and excitement the other wanting to make sure This wasn't a ploy. How did this happen under their watch, and what were Megatron's real intentions? The safety of the crew and their mission was of utmost priority, something the ambassador's unusual relationship with the former warlord could jeopardise.

As chaos reigned aboard the ship, few knew what to make of Megatron and his human companion. But most agreed their unforeseen bond, if genuine, heralded great uncertainty for the future...Cybertronians had never tried courting outside of their own species, and so many questions came from it.

Rodimus couldn't believe it when the rumours started spreading. Megatron, in a relationship with an organic? It seemed too bizarre to be true. Rodimus decided to confront Megatron directly to find out if it really was true. He had found Megatron deep in discussion with the human, hands gesturing animatedly as they spoke. The familiarity between them was unmistakable.

"So the rumours are true," Rodimus said abruptly. "You and the... ambassador?"

Megatron turned, his optics glowing dangerously. "What I do is no concern of yours, Rodimus." He tries to defend before eventually sighing and confirming. Megatron said impassively. "They enjoy listening to my writings, and I enjoy watching them when they work on their projects. Now leave us in peace." But when he confronted Megatron about it directly, the warlord didn't deny it. A smile crosses his face as he talks about them.

Rodimus shook his head in disbelief as he hassled Megatron for more information, how did a relationship like that even work, the size difference itself, one being Cybernetic and the other Organic.

Ultra Magnus was deeply uneasy about the whole affair. An organic aboard one of their ships was risky enough, but for them to be fraternising with Megatron of all bots it worries him. He had fought against Megatron countless times and seen the depths of his cruelty.

"Are you certain of this?" Ultra Magnus asked gravely. "Megatron and a human?" Ratchet could only nod grimly in response, he continues working as Drift sits off to the side. “Shocked me when the Ambassador came in for a health check, learned too much on megatron's interface life, for a lifetime” Ratchet confirms.

"What does this mean for our relations with humans?" Rung wondered aloud. "Will they still see us as allies?” he asked, slightly worried.

It seemed impossible that the Decepticon could truly care for another. He feared this relationship was merely a ploy by Megatron to manipulate the ambassador and advance his own goals.

But watching them had changed his feelings on the matter. Watching Megatron lift them up to watch the stars throughout the observation deck. Listened to Megatron laugh, a true laugh when in their presence. How Megatron went out of his way to make sure they were content.

"I do not understand," Rodimus said slowly, turning to his companions. "Has Megatron gone soft? Or is this some new trickery, like dont get me wrong I'm glad that they are happy but does it feel unreal to anyone else?"

Brainstorm, ever the scientist, was endlessly fascinated. "Just think of the advances we could make by studying their physiology up close!" he said excitedly. "Too bad Megsy's being so selfish, keeping them all to himself." Nautica smiled and reminded him that they was a person, not a lab experiment. But privately, even she wished to learn more about these "humans.”

Drift frowned thoughtfully. "The ways of the spark are mysterious. Perhaps even one as Megatron is capable of love." His optics linger on the Larger mech who was discussing paperwork with the human sitting on the table in front of him. Red optics look down at the human softly as they chat softly amongst themselves.

Ratchet scoffed. "Love is it? I'd believe Unicron had a change of sparks before Megatron. Mark my words, this will end in nothing but trouble and spilled energon. That human has no idea what kind of Mech they're dealing with."

Tailgate let out a squeak of surprise. "Aww, they look so cute! He looks like a love sick sparkling!" tailgate was wrapped in Cyclonus' arms as they watched the two.

Drift shoots Ratchet a look, in turn the medic sighs at his harsh words, he knew all too well what it was like falling in love with a Decepticon, he was being. A hypocrite and he knew it.

And yet, as they watched, Megatron's actions remained gentle, protective even, as he spoke softly with the ambassador. Rodimus found himself hoping against logic that Drift was right - that even the coldest spark held the potential for warmth.

Rodimus ran a hand over his faceplate. "Primus help us, the Senate is NOT going to like this." He states while downing his drink. "We'll need to address them, try to do some damage control before this blows up in our faces. Once we get back to Cybertron”

As for the senate, they were outraged that Megatron would fraternise with an organic, Megatron has a long and deadly history of oppression, war crimes, and casual disregard for other species.

Many councillors would express grave concern over any influence or leverage Megatron might gain through the relationship.

Some would even demand the ambassador be removed from the ship for their own protection. Cooler heads would argue for letting the relationship play out, while closely monitoring for signs of abuse or manipulation.

Ultimately, the senate would likely ban Megatron from direct contact with the ambassador until a full psychological evaluation could be conducted.

But after Optimus steps in stating it was inhumane and cruel they allow the two back together.

That night, Megatron spends it under the stars with his lover, both of them trading stories of poetry, philosophy, and astrology. In his spark, this was where he wanted to be, with them, and he would fight to keep that spot by their side.

#transformers #transformers idw #transformers x human #transformers x reader #transformers lost light #megatron #transformers: more than meets the eye #transformers megatron #megatron transformers #mtmte megatron #megatron mtmte #Megatron idw #idw transformers #tf idw #mtmte transformers #mtmte #tf mtmte

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

Note

6 angst pls!!!!!

OK, so there 5 more asks of this same combo so I'm just gonna count them all as this one:)

Being on Harry's management team was mostly wonderful and a very positive experience so far. He was so kind, honest, direct, hard-working, receptive, and trusting. This conglomeration of traits made him a dream to work with. He hardly ever gave you any trouble, but he was human so of course, he made mistakes and bad judgement calls, but he was never one to come up with some elaborate scheme to distract from those things. He'd fix the issue with whoever had been involved and move on, he didn't feel a need to defend himself to the press or the public when they had nothing to do with his private problems. No twitter-storms for him and that made the management team's job pretty easy.

But just because Harry was a mellow and level-headed guy it didn't make him exempt from the old rumor mill. People just found any excuse to be nasty. And like any normal person, Harry had things going on in his personal life that sometimes just made him more sensitive or susceptible to feeling low. Like now... someone he had been seeing exclusively for a few months apparently hadn't granted him the same courtesy. A friend of his in London saw her kissing someone else and well...he didn't take it too well and out of frustration, he drunkenly kissed the next willing person and well...that backfired on him. And now the person he'd been seeing was telling everyone that he had cheated on her. Harry was really angry with that.

He knew that he couldn't control other people, but he just wished that the people he let into his life would just take a moment to think. Thankfully no one was really believing that he had been seeing this clout-chasing chick, but it still hurt his feelings. He had let her in to his life. He had slept with her, he had taken her on dates, he had told her things about himself...he felt betrayed and for some reason this particular time it was just taking a lot longer for him to bounce back.

In session, his writing was reflecting his evident frustration and he was being quite petty. This was personal and he hated that he was stooping to that level. He felt immature and incapable of handling what he was feeling and it was ridiculous.

"This is so fucking stupid..." he groaned into his hands. You'd watched this chaos unfold for long enough, so you decided to step in.

"Guys, I think it's a good time to take a little break. Get some lunch...take a walk..." she said to the others in the room.

"Yeah, good call." Harry mumbled and people started getting up to leave and as Harry stood from his seat and started walking out behind Mitch you called out to him.

"Not you, Harry!" you called after him and he patted Mitch on the back and said a couple things to him before Mitch gave him a thumbs up and headed off. Harry came back over to his previous seat as you stood at the control panel, just looking around. You were the newest addition to him team, hired on just shy of a year ago. You'd mostly been handling contracts though and he'd been touring and releasing films so you hadn't really had a lot of face-time with him. And he didn't know you as well as he knew the rest of his team, they'd been friends even before they managed him. So you got that you were new and that he was a bit unsure around you, but you just wanted to make sure he was OK.

"Look, I know that we've basically wasted the morning and that we're gonna need to pay for another day-"

"Harry, I don't care about that, I'll book another day out if you want it, no problem." you assured him, "I just wanted to make sure that you're OK." you said and his expression changed to a more relaxed one.

"Oh." he said and you offered him a slight and sympathetic smile.

"Yeah. I know it's been rough and I know that we don't know each other that well, but if you're not feeling this kind of work right now you don't have to do this." you explained and he smiled a bit.

"I know I've sucked today, but to the point where my own manager would rather I not do a writing session?" he asked and you chuckled.

"Can I be candid with you?" you asked and he nodded firmly, "I really like your music. And I'm not just saying that, it's heavily featured on a few of my playlists," you explained and he smiled, "And while I realize that some of the best work can come from painful or angry places, you're currently giving... Taylor Swift circa 2008-2009." you said and he literally burst out laughing and you chuckled softly at his reaction.

"Some might argue that those were her golden years." he said after he settled down.

"I'm not saying it's bad, but what I mean to say is she was a teenager then and it...shows. And not that you can't behave like a teenager as an adult... everyone's journey is different!" you defended and he chuckled, "But I know that's not you. And I just feel like you're just really frustrated with everything you're going through and it's not coming out right because you're kind of trying to force yourself to push through your hurt with this process." you said and he bit his lip sadly for a moment before he sighed.

"Look I'm just...feeling really hopeless right now. And you're absolutely right, that's not me." he shook his head as he looked in your eyes. "I feel so foreign to my own mind....like, when did it even know how to think that way?" he said and you nodded, "I mean...I can't accept to believe that things will never work out. That I'll never get a chance at a normal relationship again. That everyone in my life has an ulterior motive...but I'm starting to, Y/N." he said with so much hurt in his eyes, they were glossy from the tears forming and you just reached out and he grabbed your hand.

You didn't have any words to say to him. You had no idea what it felt like to be him. Anyone would think he'd have it easy, but it was harder than it was easier most of the time. You just wanted him to know that you heard him and that you were there with him, that's it. Your thumb ran over his knuckles in a comforting gesture and suddenly his tears startled to fall and he inhaled sharply as he tried to hold back his sob and you frowned when he just decided to let it out. You stood immediately and hugged him against your chest. His head was resting right over your heart and you just held his head with one hand and lightly scratched his back with the other. After a few minutes he'd calmed but made no move to get out of your hold. You understood, sometimes you just needed to be held.

"I'm sorry, I didn't plan to lay all that on you." he said quietly and smiled.

"It' don't mind it. It's why I'm here." you said and he let go of you and leaned back as he looked at you looking a bit perplexed.

"What you're here for?" he asked with some hurt in his voice and then you shook your head.

"Oh, not like as part of my job, Harry!" you explained quickly, "I mean like here here. Like on planet earth. As a human being I'm here to share experiences and relate with other human beings. To learn to care for each other and help each other..." you said and he nodded and then smiled slightly.

"Right...I was about to say, after everything I've just told you?" he chuckled lightly now and you did too as you place a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, sorry for the misunderstanding." you shook your head in a little embarrassment, "So did that help? Just...letting it out?" you asked him and he nodded.

"Yeah, I feel a bit better." he said.

"A bit is more than nothing." you said with a smile, taking the win and he nodded. "So, would you like to keep trying here or would you like to call it a day?" you asked him and he sighed and looked into your eyes.

"I think we should call it a day." he concluded.

"OK, I'll let the guys know." you said with a small smile and headed out to the food lounge. After you told them the new you chit-chatted for a bit before saying goodbye. You hummed happily as you considered the possibilities for the rest of your day... grab your things, pick up a nice bottle of wine, call your nail lady and to see if she could squeeze you in for a pedi? As you came back into the studio you that Harry had his things packed on the floor beside him while he sat on the arm of the couch. He glanced up when he heard you come in and you smiled, "Hey H, sorry if I kept you waiting, I got to talking. Did you need something else from me?" you asked.

"I'm gonna ask you something and it's gonna sound awful, but I promise I mean it in the most not awful way-"

"Harry, just ask." you interrupted him with a chuckle and he nodded.

"Right. Ummm...w-would you like to spend the night at mine?" he asked you and you looked at him skeptically.

"Like....for....?"

"Not sex!" he said right away and then shook his head, "Not because you're a person I wouldn't want to have sex with. Like I would if I had to. Like...last people on earth type of thing. But well, that sounds like I'd do it with you just because I had no other choice. Which I mean, I would still probably have sex with you given a choice, you know?" he finished his ramble and you just decided to not even go there.

"OK...so not for sex. So then for what?" you asked him.

"Just to be with someone. We could play board games or watch movies or tv...ummm, I'm pretty sure I've got everything I'd need to make banana bread... we could do that. Or just talk and listen to music? We can do whatever I just don't want to be alone." he admitted softly.

"Harry...I really want to, but I also work for you and I... just don't want to blur the boundaries too much." you explained.

"You literally just told me this is why you're here." he appealed to her, "I'm friends with Jeff and Tommy...why couldn't I be friends with you?" he asked and you smiled at him.

"You're not exactly asking a crazy question..." you said and he smiled lightly at you. "Fine. But I'm gonna go home and pack a bag. When I arrive I hope to smell some banana bread in the oven." you said and he smiled.

"Deal." he said and you nodded. He reached for your bag on the coffee table and handed it over and you smiled and thanked him as you walked down the hall. "Gonna go say good bye to the lads."

"Yeah, you go ahead." you assured him and he made his way down the other hall, "H!" you called after him and he glanced back, "You're gonna be OK. I promise." you said and he smiled before you waved and headed back to your car.

READ MORE PICTURE PROMPT BLURBS HERE!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry x you #harry styles x you #harry styles reader insert #harry reader insert #picture prompts 2 #0nlythrowharrybeaux

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vidavalor · 5 months

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Hello! I trully love your metas ♥️

And I want to believe… but how do you match the fact that they have kissed (even fucked) for so many time with the only kiss we have seen which is so clumsly, so fist-time-type, and so turbovirgin?

Thank you!

Hi @margotmignard-blog Thank you and nice to meet you. :) Ok, this is for you and the few Anons who have sent me more or less the same Ask in the last 2 weeks or so as some of my posts have circulated a bit more so yeah, alright, I'll take it on. All of you please help yourself to hot chocolate and holiday M&Ms, even if you are making me think about Every again to write this lol.

Why do I think Crowley & Aziraphale are long-time lovers when Every is an awkward kiss? Because you know what looks just like clumsy, first-time kisses?

Old-married argument kisses of desperation when all other communication is failing that then wind up failing, too, that's what.

Two people kissing in distress is clumsy and messy no matter what stage of their relationship they're in and if they're upset and think the other is about to walk out the door and conflicted about opening up to the kiss because of the argument then all of that makes for a truly gut-wrenchingly awkward kiss. It didn't read as a first time kiss to me at all but I can understand how it might to someone.

I actually think that's the insanely evil genius of it lol. This show is such a bastard worth knowing, I tell ya. :) Right now, they have everyone being all "they need to have a better second kiss!" and just well... if you were them, wouldn't you want that? Would seem a good way to bury the surprise of an older kiss, wouldn't it? Would be a good way to sleight of hand some doubt into *checks notes* apparently everybody but me and a handful of others lol and so help to have everyone flailing again but for a better reason when they throw in an older, better kiss.

It's also a bolder move, both story-wise and performance-wise. Sadly, it's still a big deal that they've even kissed at all and it shouldn't be but, thankfully, it's becoming more common. In a way, though, that makes the fact that they made the first kiss you saw less than ideal a better choice and a better story.

Some more thoughts on this under the cut below that is beneath some gifs of these two who haven't apparently ever kissed before moments away from sex in the wall slam scene in S1... which is Every's parallel scene. By design. To illustrate a contrast. The first kiss we saw is a mirror of oh, just the start of some casual public sex that got interrupted by SatanicNun!Nina. Haven't we all had that relationship where we let someone throw us against a wall before we ever kissed? I mean...

Look at Aziraphale and his little 'getting up to some sexy trouble' smile here... does he not look like he knows *exactly* what he's asking for here and does Crowley not know what the request is and give it to him in a way that screams that this is not the first time? The tone here is a bit... You know, Crowley, I've always said I wanted to fuck in an empty broom closet in a former satanic nunnery and luck of the devil, you just kicked in a door and found one so you are sooooo nice throw me against the wall baby let's go... oh terrific of course this is exactly when the damn nun shows up oh well at least I can enjoy you slurring your S's in sexual frustration for now...

Good Omens throws something down and then gives you context for it later on that causes you to revisit what you thought when you initially watched it, right? They do this all the time. The scenes themselves always work fine on first viewing but they change and morph into a different scene when viewed with the added context the show gives you later. If you're writing a show in that way, you absolutely would make Every the first kiss you showed the audience... *especially* if it was in a cliffhanger-y season finale. Your Ask is exactly the reason why. You and I and a bonkers number of others are engaging with one another on the topic and we're engaging with the show as a result. Some of us are apparently willing to fight to the death insisting that Every is their first kiss. Some of us are like how you appear to be from your Ask, where you're willing to keep an open mind but you're leaning towards it was the first kiss. Some of us are like me and are feeling that, when all is said and done, they are building a relationship that is millennia old and that the show will wind up illustrating an entire history of it by its end and the idea that we have scenes out there already like Rome and The Globe Theatre and 1941 and Tadfield Manor but people think that they just kissed for the first time in 2023 is kind of head-scratching to me.

I've had people ask me how an ancient times vavoom would advance the story and I've answered in other meta how I think it would but I have an ask back for you all: how, honestly, would 2.06 being their first kiss advance the story? They've written characters who have had a relationship of some form with one another since before the Garden of Eden and have shown us that story throughout different points in time. S3 is going to be, at best, set a couple of years out from S2 and is probably set a lot sooner than that, so we're going to end their story sometime before 2026 on their timeline, probably... and the first kiss was in 2023? When you have the opportunity to write an entire millennia-old romantic relationship with all of its highs and lows and show it in the flashbacks and how they inform the relationship in the present? Because that story is already there. That's the story I see watching this and have since the first time I watched it. I'm frankly kinda floored by the number of people who insist that it's their first kiss, especially two seasons into the show. The same show that gave you this before it gave you The Blitz, Part 2?

I got accidentally spoiled for Every like a lot of people and when I saw Crowley's glasses on, I had the feeling that it was probably going to be a terrible kiss. I was hoping that it wasn't the only kiss in the season but when 2.05 finished without it showing up yet, it became obvious that it was going to be a big thing in the finale (hahaha oh God, remember when we didn't know? simpler times lol) and that meant that it was likely the only kiss in the season and while it ripped my heart out like it did everyone else, I never saw it as a first kiss for a second.

If you've been with somebody for a long time and, like everyone else, you have your disagreements and your things to work through but you tend to be the kind of couple where you can always or almost always rely on a baseline of physical communication that helps you express what you feel for one another-- which is a wordy way of saying 'when you've been with someone forever and the sex is amazing' lol-- maybe the worst thing that can happen between you is if that feels like it's falling apart, too. That's what I see in that kiss and, in particular, Aziraphale's reaction to it.

It's not 'turbo-virgin', in an unfamiliar with kissing way, imo-- it's a situation causing conflict for Aziraphale over whether or not he wants to give into the kiss. We've all seen it from every damn angle by now lol. We see him unable to not give in, just a little. He kisses Crowley back a bit. He touches his shoulder and his side. He doesn't pull away because he just can't, really, because he never really wants to not be kissing Crowley, but he also can't just give in because that's the situation that Crowley's set up by kissing him the way he did. Crowley wants him to run away with him and that's not a solution to any of this, either, and everything is a total mess and if Aziraphale just gives in and opens up more and really kisses Crowley, he's saying yes to just running off with him and they can't. There's really nowhere to go.

Even with all of that, he still can't resist kissing Crowley a bit and touching him because Crowley and because what he really wants is for them to be literally anywhere else, somewhere safe away from all of it, without having to worry about Heaven & Hell, but they aren't and he can't pretend that they are. That'd be even crueler, really, to really kiss Crowley and then still go to Heaven, right?

It's not a first kiss and at a bad time panic-- it's oh God, I think we broke it. It's the heartbreak of suddenly being in this place together where they aren't communicating well on any level and that going past having a verbal disagreement and into the pain of having an absolutely brutally bad kiss with someone with whom you've had countless passionate ones and the terror that it might be the last one and you're never going to feel any of that again.

That's happened to them before.

It's the brutal 1862 scene. Aziraphale in 1862's comment about The Agreement is the most embittered you won't touch me anymore thing ever. They've gone from The Arrangement in their looser, flirtier Globe Theatre era to now what Aziraphale calls The Agreement in 1862. The difference between an arrangement and an agreement is basically where the future is concerned. An agreement is, well, an agreement lol but it tends to be more formal, more restrained, while an arrangement is an agreement that contains more of a view to the future. It's a plan. You agree to meet up but you arrange how, basically. They don't have The Arrangement in 1862 anymore, they have The Agreement and it sounds like the exact fucking opposite of The Arrangement. The Agreement is "stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed," according to Aziraphale.

Read that again: "Stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed." See a problem here? If we're just talking about helping each other out with work assignments then this literally just doesn't make any sense at all as how can you both stay out of each other's way but lend a hand as needed? It's one or the other. It can't be both. It's "stay out of each other's way" when it comes to work assignments. It's "lend a hand, as needed" in their love life and Aziraphale is bitter as all holy fuck about it. They're barely having sex anymore.

That scene in 1862 actually also parallels part of the scene that contains Every. Funny how alike "we have a lot in common, you and me" sounds to what Crowley says in 2.06, isn't it? Dude has got to stop asking for holy water or to run away when they're both a mess-- it not working lol.

The point is that they've been together a long time and they've also both experienced a lot of trauma. They've have times where miscommunications snowballed and it felt broken beyond repair but it's not and it's not because they love each other and they eventually figure it out. That's part of the pain of Every, though, because what happened after Crowley came back from Hell in 1827 was bad and it took a long time to get to a better place with it but they did and better than before and then this kiss that they think could wind up being their last is a complete disaster straight out of the mid-1800s on top of the fact that they're in what feels like in the moment irreversible disagreement.

It's a painful kiss. It hurts to watch. It's supposed to. Not because they've never kissed before but because they've kissed a trillion times and this is by far the worst of the lot.

And these bastards decided it was the first one we should see lol. It's okay, though. These are coming soon, in the past and present:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens s2 #aziracrow #good omens 2

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meabh-mcinness · 7 months

Note

Anon that requested runaway!SO Narnia prompt here, and my heart squeezed when I saw you put it in your list. Thank you so much!

Saw your post, and I love the idea for it to take place before the 13th Deviculum, it changes Narnia's vitriol towards Iruma so much.

I don't believe that he doesn't think that Iruma's fame (as the Misfits are apparently a household name and in papers) DIDN'T influence his lover leaving him in a bid for freedom! Maybe he noticed that she had been paying attention to whatever news they got of Iruma's antics, like him even attending his first Deviculum.

Makes his beef with Iruma personal, if Narnia even slightly blamed the poor bean's (seemingly intentional) tendency to stand out as what put ideas in her head when she was pretty content to stay before.

(Actually, my first idea about why the SO leapt to the nuclear option of vanishing and not talking it out, prompt happening after-deviculum, was because he knocked her up. And girl got SO scared for her child, since at that point he revealed that he still hated 'dirty humans' and it fed into her pre-existing insecurities about how he kept her secret from everyone he knew, why he never married her in any kind of demonic ritual, and fed her growing misassumption that she was basically a pet that he didn't think was acceptable for demonic society.

Culminating into a major freak out when the SO found out she was going to have a half-human baby.

Like, would he want to keep her child? Would they be raised to never know that their mother was human, with the belief that her heritage made them weak compared to full-blooded demon children? Would Narnia still keep her secret and introduce their child to society as without a mother, without her?

...most of her worries aren't quite true, as imo Narnia *wasn't* trying to treat her like a mistress/guilty secret wife, it was mostly his yandere tendencies and unrestrained demonic territorial possessiveness talking and getting irrationally jealous of possible competition, of anyone else taking up her attention.

Part of it is because Narnia doesn't have many trusted allies (friends) that weren't also co-workers (and thus can recognize a human) and wouldn't set his instincts off! And he got way too comfortable with their current lifestyle, since he was probably an intensely private demon in the first place.

Truly a misundestanding of tragic proportions. Were it Kalego in his position, he could at least be alright to introduce her to Balam, and Balam Shichiro could have gotten a human to eventually open up and communicate about their discontent and gotten things addressed. Alas, this isn't a Kalego story, though it might be interesting to have one where Kalego and the Sullivan household come together over their secret humans, hehe.

But Narnia's SO hasn't been in a good place mentally and emotionally, not for a long time, and worked herself into an irrational panic that culminated into a flight into the night decision.

Sorry, this took so long to get out! I hope I've lived up to your expectations! My beta tells me this made her tear up a bit so I'm hoping it has the same effect for everyone but enjoys it anyways.

The Price of Freedom - request (Yandere!Narnia x fem!reader)Ⓐ

Narnia keeps you trapped on the property to keep you safe from the rest of the Netherworld and while his intentions are good he's doing more harm than intended. After all, humans are social pack animals meant to be able to roam about wild and free. And while there are exceptions to every rule, you are not one of them. So when you see a chance to leave, you take it. Leaving your heart behind but gaining your freedom in the process.

Also, this is a two-parter! The first part is angst but I haven't decided if our little couple here will get a happy ending or not yet. Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

You took a deep breath, glancing over at the slumbering body holding yours. His long hair was fanned out behind him and his pale skin practically gleamed even in the darkness of the room. Soon enough, his alarm would go off, and those dark eyes would open blearily, and he'd grumble while trying to turn it off and pull you closer. Eventually, he'd give in, wake up more with a smile and a kiss for you and get ready for the day. It was a daily routine that had lasted for a few years now, and it was one you loved.

Your heart clenched at the fact that this would probably be the last morning it ever happened.

Your eyes travelled all the lines of his face, taking in every detail that you could, hoping to memorize them to the best of your ability. You had plenty of photos stored away, that you already knew you would take out over and over again until they faded with age and even afterwards, but no photo could ever beat seeing him in person. You were tempted to gently run your fingers over his cheeks and down his hair but knew he would wake up immediately, startled.

He was such a light sleeper due to the years of growing up under the Naberius household that you always tried hard to not make too much noise or movements so that he could sleep in when he could. And as this would be the last time you laid beside him, you wanted to enjoy this moment. To have time freeze over this peace, and not have the negative feelings swirling through your body running circles in your mind. To leave this all behind no matter how much you loved it because you couldn't stay caged in any longer.

But you couldn't. As a human, you held no magic beyond what the power of runes and already magic-infused items could give you, much less the amount of power needed to freeze time itself. So instead, here you lay, trying to absorb as much as possible because the moment that he leaves property lines, you would be getting to work. You had even purposefully made a bit of a mess last night and promptly shoved the both of you to bed so that you would have an excuse on why you were moving things about if he came back early for whatever reason.

You could only hope he didn't come home early.

Today had been forecasted to be nice and sunny until the afternoon rolled around with thunderstorms. If you timed it right, you'd be able to pack everything up, leave and make it to town right before the storms hit, with several hours to spare for the rain to wash away your trail. Otherwise, if the rain came early you would be stuck here until the next time such an opportunity presented itself, and who knew when that would be? More than likely you would have gone stir-crazy before that happened, and who knew what kind of damage you would do when that happened?

Not that this idea was much better. Had this been a more ordinary relationship, you would have easily just talked out the fact you had wanderlust and gone out to visit new places. Instead, as much as you loved Narnia, you could admit he was a bit paranoid and even straight-up territorial about your standing in this world. Always going on about the dangers of this world and wanting to keep you here in this safe bubble of a home he had made for the two of you.

Not that it was without reason. The Netherworld was indeed a harsh place and there were so many dangers just out your front door, much less the rest of this big bad world. And yet the human world was not without its dangers as well, and while you knew many threats had magic which left you at quite the disadvantage, you could at least protect yourself semi-well. Narnia had seen to that with what started as daily training sessions, which slowly moved to once every few days then to a few times a month as you proved more proficient, and he gained harder and harder cases to solve.

At first, you hadn't thought much of it. Even in the human world, it was quite often that schedules could get packed. You would have been fine with it if you had something to do other than roam this tiny amount of land. Instead, you were trapped here like a prized pet in a cage, forever waiting for your precious master to return. You couldn't live like that. Not anymore at least.

Suddenly your thoughts were broken by the sharp tones of his alarm. You couldn't help the startled movement you made, having not fully expected it to go off so soon. This in turn startled Narnia awake. His eyes snapped open and immediately focused on you before swiping the room for any danger.

You gave him a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Narnia brushed off your apology with a casual wave of his hand and leaned in to give you a soft, lingering kiss. A large pale hand caresses your face and sweeps into your hairline to pull you in closer. It was a sweet morning ritual, one that you cherished. He tasted like roses and dark chocolate with a hint of mint, a flavour unique to him. His lips were warm and inviting, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to forget the impending departure.

Breaking the kiss, Narnia slipped out of bed, his movements fluid and graceful. He grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and headed for the bathroom. You watched him as he moved, his silhouette bathed in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

He began his usual morning routine, the sounds of running water and the clinking of toiletries filling the air. You couldn't help but smile as you listened. It was the ordinary moments like these that you would miss the most.

While he showered, you took the opportunity to slip out of bed and start preparing for the day ahead. You retrieved a backpack from the closet and began packing it with essential items: clothes, food, a first aid kit, and a map of the Netherworld. You knew you'd have to travel light, but you wanted to be as prepared as possible for whatever lay ahead.

As you worked, you couldn't help but glance over towards where Narnia in the bathroom would be. You could hear him humming a tune over the splashing of water, likely with a contented expression on his face as he went about his routine. It was moments like these that made leaving even harder.

But you couldn't stay. Your longing for adventure, for freedom, had grown too strong to ignore. And so, you continued to pack, determined to make the most of the time you had left with him. After packing the essentials in your backpack, you carefully zipped it up and placed it under the bed, hidden from plain view. You couldn't risk Narnia stumbling upon it and asking questions before you were ready to explain your decision.

With that task completed, you moved on to the next item on your agenda: breakfast. You headed to the kitchen, quietly so as not to disturb Narnia in the bathroom. You had learned to navigate this small cottage with a gentle touch, ensuring that your movements were subtle and silent. In the kitchen, you gathered the ingredients for a simple breakfast - eggs, toast, and a few vegetables. As you cracked the eggs into a bowl and started whisking them, the aroma of cooking filled the air, a comforting and familiar scent that made your heart ache with nostalgia.

By the time Narnia emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed, you had already set the table for two. He gave you a warm smile as he approached, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Smells delicious," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

You returned his smile and turned to face him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Just a little something to start your day off right," you replied, trying to sound as normal as possible despite the turmoil in your heart. Together, you shared a quiet breakfast at the cozy table, the two of you lost in your thoughts. Narnia talked about his plans for the day, the cases he needed to solve, and the colleagues he'd be meeting with. You listened attentively, offering words of encouragement and support.

As the time for Narnia to leave for work approached, you couldn't help but feel the weight of impending separation bearing down on you. You walked him to the door, his hand in yours, and shared a lingering kiss before he stepped outside.

He gave you a weird look, seemingly studying you, causing you to pause and tilt your head at him in response with the most curious look you could muster, before he shook his head and went back to making sure he had his things for work. You felt your body relax at passing whatever test that had been. You could thank the fact that years of wearing a mask in the human world also helped you here, even if you didn't much like why you were using it now.

You gave him a smile and leaned up on your toes to give him a kiss. 'Your last kiss' your mind supplied. What a shame you had to pass it off as your regular see-you-later rather than pour everything you had into it like you wanted to. But that would be suspicious, and he would want to stay longer or it might make him think you were in the mood and stay for a completely different reason. As much as you wanted the touch of his body one more time, you couldn't have it. Not without messing up your carefully laid out plan.

"Have a good day at work!" You chirped at him before waving him off with a laugh as he grumbled under his breath about how no day at work without you was a good day. You leaned against the door frame as you admired the large leathery wings that suddenly burst from his back, the appendages giving a few small flutters to stretch themselves out before he took off into the dawning sky with another wave at you.

You gave him another small wave in return and watched until you could no longer see him on the horizon. Even then you gave it a few seconds to see if he happened to turn around. It wouldn't be the first time he'd purposely forgotten something so that he could come back and spend a few more moments with you. Once those few seconds passed you deemed it safe to carry on with your plan. With Narnia gone for the day, you had a limited window of opportunity to execute your plan. You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and fear as you prepared to embark on the journey that would take you far away from the life you had known, and into the unknown.

You only had a few hours to tear this place apart, grab everything you could, put it back together again and be on your way to a new life. It wouldn't be easy as you first went back into the bedroom and stripped the bed of everything. Throwing the sheets into the laundry and tossing your personal pillows aside to be packed later. Next, as the blankets washed, you scoured the walls and frames for every photo of you that you could find. There was an almost surprising amount of them, considering both your and Narnia's aversion to photos, but you supposed that anyone would want to have captured moments when they were in a relationship.

Had this been a normal relationship perhaps you would be packing everything up for a completely different reason. Perhaps moving into a bigger home than this little one-bedroom cottage, or even moving things aside until renovations were done to expand this one. However, this wasn't a normal relationship, and you couldn't entertain the idea of it ever being so any longer.

With every delicate movement, you took great care to erase any trace of your existence from the cottage. You gathered any personal belongings that tied you to this place, from clothing to small trinkets, and stowed them away in your backpacks, making sure not to leave behind a single item that might raise suspicion. The cottage itself bore no signs of your occupancy; the walls were stripped of photos, the bedroom was bare other than his belongings, and even the living room was devoid of any of your personal touches.

You took a deep breath as you stood in the now almost empty cottage, a sense of finality washing over you. It really was as if you had never lived there at all. With one last glance around, you knew it was time to leave. Gathering up your bags you took a deep breath as you took in the boundary line from where the property ended and the next one began. You knew from several small tests that there were no wards that would alert Narnia to your leaving. A serious oversight on his part that you were happily taking advantage of. As you stared at the line you couldn't help but think of Samwise from Lord of the Rings and couldn't but wonder if this is how it felt for him to leave his home behind for a big adventure.

Heart pounding and veins singing you made the first step across, then another and another until you laughed at the fluttering of pleasure that coursed through you. The imaginary shackles that had bound were falling free as you walked determinedly onward towards your new life. You wanted to stop and observe every plant and animal you came across, but you had a long way to go still and you could already smell the rain on the horizon.

Yet, deep within you, a tiny spark of hope flickered, for you were on the path to a new beginning, and the possibilities of the unknown stretched out before you like an open book, waiting to be written.

________

Narnia landed more harshly than he meant to in his attempt to get inside from the torrential downpour quicker. Mud splattered as high as his thighs from his hard crouched landing before he straightened up again to move towards the door. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so anxious to get home, but something in his veins told him that something was wrong. He hadn't gotten this far in life by entirely ignoring his instincts, and yet he couldn't think of anything that could be wrong.

Well. Besides the way you had been acting lately that was.

He wasn't blind, he had known there was something off with you. You had been steadily getting more and more twitchy, almost like a caged beast in too small of a kennel. Perhaps you were entering some kind of new phase? Like when birds moulted old feathers to make new ones, perhaps you were going through something similar but a more human body version? Your skin had peeled several times over the years, so perhaps a more involved version appeared when you hit a new phase. Such a thing would certainly make him twitchy.

As he came closer to the door, forcefully coming out of his thoughts, he realized that all the lights were off. This wasn't too unusual. You had a habit of occasionally going to bed early or watching TV late and purposefully leaving the lights off for a better ambience. But after the weird way you acted this morning and the feeling he had all day, it just made him feel more anxious.

Wrenching the door open, he quickly stalked into the living room, shaking his head much like a dog to get the excess water off his hair before tilting his head to the side. He listened carefully for either the low sounds of music or the TV or even just your steady breathing.

Nothing. It was absolutely silent. Heart pounding, he raced through all the rooms, praying that he would find you simply dozing off and would berate him for waking you. You would laugh before comforting him over his silly anxiety, and everything would be perfectly fine.

Only it wasn't. As he swung the last door open into your shared bedroom, water still trailing behind him, it hit him that you really weren't here. As his eyes swept over every inch, he finally registered none of you was here. The photos on the walls were missing, and your half of the closet was empty. Hell, even your pillows were gone, the bed freshly laundered and remade to look like only one person slept in it.

With this sudden realization, he tore back through the house carefully to confirm what he already knew. Everything you owned, every craft you had made, every book he had bought you, was gone.

You were gone.

If it wasn't for the faintest scent of you still trapped in the furniture, it would have been as if you had never even existed. As if you hadn't spent literal years together here in this home, cuddling on the couch or playing board games on the table. As if you had never had mini cooking wars in the kitchen that usually ended with you both laughing and kissing the food off one another or in the large tub relaxing as the warm herb-infused waters soaked into your muscles.

Had someone taken you? Had someone noticed your existence and decided they wanted you for themselves? Taken you against your will and made it look like you didn't exist so that he couldn't go to anyone for help without looking crazy? Or perhaps, since such a thorough job was done, had Border Patrol swept in without his knowledge? Purposefully kept him out of the loop with an important enough job to ensure he couldn't stop them.

But no, Henri would have kept him from leaving and questioned him regardless. Always playing by the rules, Henri did, and that left him, for the most part, predictable. So not Border Patrol then. But who else? Perhaps Baal? He hadn't been as subtle as he could have been in trying to figure out if Narnia was willing to return to origins. Had he discovered you when trying to stake Narnia out and gotten rid of you?

At the thought, a feral growl ripped out of Narnia, and he ran out of the house and back into the rain in the hopes of catching some kind of trail. With it raining as hard and long as it had, all scents and tracks would be long gone, so the only thing he had left was to feel out any foreign magic that would have been used and try to track that. And yet, no matter how hard he tried or how much power he threw into his wards, he couldn't find any recent detection of foreign magic. None at all. Even the local mail demon flying in would have left something to follow.

It was almost as if...but no, that was impossible. There was absolutely no way you would have left on your own. You knew the dangers and never strayed further than a couple of yards from the walls of your home. Even then you didn't usually go further than your flower beds, or food gardens in the back. With a snarl, Narnia turned back and raced back through the house more closely, determined to find even the smallest clue.

As Narnia's desperate search through the house came to an agonizing conclusion, he stood in your shared bedroom, drenched in rainwater, his chest heaving with anxiety and disbelief. Your absence was undeniable, and the once-familiar space now felt alien and hollow. His racing thoughts continued to churn with questions and fears, each one more unsettling than the last. The eerie silence in the house seemed to mock his growing panic.

Unable to accept the possibility of your disappearance, he clutched at straws, desperately searching for any sign of your presence. He scanned the room, running his fingers over the empty hangers in the closet and the vacant space on your side of the bed. The absence of your cherished belongings was a stark reminder of your absence.

With trembling hands, Narnia stumbled upon something that sent a shiver down his spine. A faint but lingering scent of you still clung to the furniture, a trace of the life you had shared together in this very room. It was both a cruel reminder of what had been and a glimmer of hope that you hadn't vanished entirely.

His heart ached as he clung to that scent, unwilling to let go of the memories and the love that had defined their life together. But as the minutes passed, reality continued to gnaw at him, and he realized he needed answers, no matter how painful they might be. Turning away from the room that had once been filled with your presence, Narnia retraced his steps, still soaked from the rain. His determination to find you grew stronger with every passing moment. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, not without knowing the truth.

Tripping in his haste he fell to his knees next to the coffee table in the living room. With shaking limbs, he started to force himself to get up when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Laying innocently on the ground, a folded-up piece of parchment, his name written in your distinctive shaky handwriting. You never did get the hang of writing the demonic characters simply because you couldn't practice properly with the spell forcing you to see the letters in your own language but writing in his.

His emotions churned as he approached the letter, a fragile piece of paper that held the key to your mysterious departure. With trembling hands, he unfolded it and began to read. The words on the page weighed heavily on his heart, each sentence cutting deeper into his soul.

His hands trembled as his eyes scanned the letter quickly, hoping for some clue about where you were, only to grow more despondent the further he read. A pained howl tore from him as he took in what exactly your letter had meant, and he hadn't even realized he had started crying until the letters started bleeding together from his tears. With a choked gasp, he immediately wiped the tears away and tried to fan the letter dry again.

This letter was the only thing he had left from you besides the flowers you had planted outside. He had to take perfect care of it all. Had to keep it well until he could find you again. Because he would find you, no matter what it took. If you wanted the freedom to explore, then you could have it, just as long as you came back home-- back to him. His voice quivered with whimpers as he clutched the letter tightly to his chest, his heart aching with love and longing for the one who had vanished from his life.

To My Beloved Narnia,

As I sit here writing this letter, I can only think of all the moments we've shared together.

From our first meeting to our last embrace this morning, our courtship has been

nothing but a source of joy in my life. Sometimes, though, love isn't enough to make

something work. And I've come to the painful decision that we need to separate, at

least for a while. I will always cherish the moments and memories we shared and I am

sorry for the pain that this may cause you, but I can no longer do this. Humans are

not meant to be caged, no matter how nice that cage is. I need to be free, to be able

to go out and about, meet others, and explore this world, even if it's at the cost

of losing you. I'm truly sorry it came to this, and I will love you always.

Forever Yours

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keelanrosa · 19 days

Text

started reading the cass review because i'm apparently just Like That and i want everybody crowing about how this proves sooooo much about how terfs are right and trans people are wrong to like. take a scientific literacy class or something. or even just read the occasional study besides the one you're currently trying to prove a point with. not even necessarily pro-trans studies just learn how to know what studies actually found as opposed to what people trying to spoonfeed you an agenda claim they found.

to use just one infuriating example:

Several studies from that period (Green et al., 1987; Zucker, 1985) suggested that in a minority (approximately 15%) of pre-pubertal children presenting with gender incongruence, this persisted into adulthood. The majority of these children became same-sex attracted, cisgender adults. These early studies were criticised on the basis that not all the children had a formal diagnosis of gender incongruence or gender dysphoria, but a review of the literature (Ristori & Steensma, 2016) noted that later studies (Drummond et al., 2008; Steensma & Cohen-Kettenis, 2015; Wallien et al., 2008) also found persistence rates of 10-33% in cohorts who had met formal diagnostic criteria at initial assessment, and had longer follow-up periods.

if you recognize the names Zucker and Steensma you are probably already going feral but tldr:

There are… many problems with Zucker's studies, "not all children had a formal diagnosis" is so far down the list this is literally the first i've heard of it. The closest i usually hear is the old DSM criteria for gender identity disorder was totally different from the current DSM criteria for gender dysphoria and/or how most people currently define "transgender"; notably it did not require the patient to identify as a different gender and overall better fits what we currently call "gender-non-comforming". Whether the kids had a formal diagnosis of "maybe trans, maybe just has different hobbies than expected, but either way their parents want them back in their neat little societal boxes" is absolutely not the main issue. This would be a problem even if Zucker was pro-trans (spoiler: He Is Not, and people who are immediately suspicious of pro-trans studies because "they're probably funded by big pharma or someone else who profits from transitioning" should apply at least a little of that suspicion to the guy who made a living running a conversion clinic); sometimes "formal" criteria change as we learn more about what's common, what's uncommon, what's uncommon but irrelevant, etc, and when the criteria changes drastically enough it doesn't make sense to pretend the old studies perfectly apply to the new criteria. If you found a study defining "sex" specifically and exclusively as penetration with a dick which says gay men have as much sex as straight men but lesbians don't, it's not necessarily wrong as far as it goes but if THAT'S your prime citation for "gay men have more sex than lesbians", especially if you keep trying to apply it in contexts which obviously use a broader definition, there are gonna be a lot of people disagreeing with you and it won't be because they're stubbornly unscientific.

Also Zucker is pro conversion therapy. Yes, pro converting trans people to cis people, but also pro converting gay people to straight people. That doesn't necessarily affect his results, i just find it funny how many people enthusiastically support his findings as evidence transitioning is… basically anti-gay conversion therapy? (even though plenty of trans people transition to gay? including T4T people so even the "that's actually just how straight people try to get with gay people" rationale for gay trans people is incredibly weak? and also HRT has a relatively low but non-zero chance of changing sexual orientation so it wouldn't even be reliable as a means of "becoming straight"? but a guy who couldn't reliably tell the difference between a tomboy and a trans boy figured out the former is more common than the latter + in one whole country where being trans is legal but being gay is not, sometimes cis gay people transition, so OBVIOUSLY that means sexism and homophobia are the driving factors even in countries with significant transphobia. or something.) anyway i hope zucker knows and hates how many gay people and allies are using his own study to trash-talk any attempts to be Less Gay. ideally nobody would take his nonsense seriously at all but it doesn't seem we'll be spared from that any time soon so i will take my schadenfreude where i can.

Steensma's studies have the exact same problem re: irrelevant criteria so "well someone ELSE had the same results!" is not exactly convincing. This is not "oh trans people are refusing to pay attention to these studies because they disagree with them regardless of scientific rigor", it's "one biased guy using outdated criteria found exactly the numbers everyone would expect based on that criteria, i can't imagine why trans people are treating those numbers as relevant to the past criteria but not present definitions, let's find a SECOND guy using outdated criteria. Why do people keep saying the outdated criteria is not relevant to the current state of trans healthcare. Don't we all know it's quantity over quality with scientific studies. (Please don't ask what the quantity of studies disagreeing with me is.)"

Steensma also counted patients as 'not persisting as transgender' if they ghosted him on follow-up which counted for a third of his study's "detransitioners" and a fifth of the total subjects and. look. i'm not saying none of them detransitioned, or assuming they all didn't would be notably more accurate, but i think we can safely treat twenty percent of subjects as a bit high for making a default assumption, especially when some of them might have simply not been interested in a study on whether or not they still know who they are. Fuck knows i've seen pro-trans studies which didn't make assumptions about the people who didn't respond still get prodded by anti-trans people insisting "the number of people claiming they don't regret transitioning can't possibly be so high, some of the people who responded must have been lying. (Scientific rigor means thinking studies which disagree with me are wrong even if the only explanation is the subjects lying and studies which agree with me are right even if we need to make assumptions about a lot of subjects to get there.)"

and this is not new information. not the issues with zucker, not the issues with steensma, not any of the issues because this is not a new study, it's a review of older studies, which in itself doesn't mean "bad" or "useless" -- sometimes that allows connecting some previously-unconnected dots -- but the idea this is going to absolutely blow apart the Woke Media, vindicate Rowling and Lineham, and "save" ""gay"" children from """being forcibly transed""" is bullshit. At most it'll get dragged around and eagerly cited by all the people looking for anything vaguely scientific-sounding to justify their beliefs, and maybe even people who only read headlines and sound bites will buy it, but the people who really believe it will be people who already agreed with all its "findings" and have already been dragging around the existing studies and are just excited to have a shiny new citation for it.

the response from people who've been really reading research on transgender people all along is going to be more along the lines of "……yeah. yeah, i already knew about that. do you need a three-page essay on why i don't think it means what you think it means? because i don't have time for that homework right now but maybe i can pencil it in for next semester if you haven't learned how to check your own sources by then."

#cass review #lgbt #transgender #transphobia #science #'tldr': *writes three-page essay* 'but i don't have time for a three-page essay rn'#also: holy run-on sentences #but seriously this is not going to change the mind of a single person who would be influenced by reading scientific studies #the studies already existed and have BEEN being used by terfs who think ZUCKER of aLL PEOPLE #is a good gotcha against anyone saying 'reputable studies indicate detransitioning is pretty uncommon actually'#but the responses i find truly fascinating are the ones along the lines of #'ohohoho i bet all those people who criticized jkr will be reeeaal quiet now' w. why.#if past studies didn't convince them the Special Collector's Edition of past studies won't #y'all don't have a monopoly on Scientific Knowledge just because y'all think your Fisher-Price level Gender Definition is the best #sometimes. other scientific information exists. and trans people and allies can even read that scientific information.#i know a weird number of y'all think we run on vibes and liberal propaganda but i promise a ton of us are absolute DORKS

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callsign-bunnie · 6 months

Note

You asked for Angst prompts, what If Alejandro was taken by a cartel n tortured and Rodolfo tore Las Almas part looking for him?

Sorry I've Had this idea for a while but writers block-

I'VE LITERALLY BEEN THINKING OF WRITING SOMETHING SIMILAR FOR A WHILE

Rodolfo Parra wasn't squeamish to blood. Maybe at some point, he had been. Sometime very long before Alejandro. With Alejandro, he wasn't allowed to be. Alejandro had perpetually bloody knuckles, bleeding scrapes, blood dripping from his nose. Whatever chance Rodolfo had of being squeamish was squashed very early on.

He knew that some would believe him to be. Why, he didn't understand. He was in the military, at the very least, being squeamish around blood might have presented at some point.

Now, as he scrubbed blood from his hands, he felt nothing more than grateful for this. There was... an absurd amount of blood. The human body could make an absurd amount of blood, and so little of it at the same time.

He accepted the towel from Rodriguez as it was handed to him, drying his hands, though they were still bloody. They'd always be bloody, he feared. But he'd bloody them over and over for Alejandro.

The first time Rodolfo had an encounter with an absurd amount of blood had even been for Alejandro. The, then, teenager had dragged himself through Rodolfo's bedroom window, bleeding from his side. It had soaked through his shirt, it was dripping down his stomach, and Rodolfo remembered being terrified that he wouldn't survive.

But, he'd pushed it to the side. His best friend was leaning against his footboard, soaked in his own blood, and Rodolfo didn't have time to worry. No, he had to fix it. So, he'd just dropped to his knees, peeled Alejandro's shirt up, and stitched the wound. Found some way to distract his family so he could get Alejandro into the bathroom to clean him up, and stole his father's clothes so he could wear them. (They already had a fair size difference, at that point, and Alejandro just didn't fit anything he had. Honestly, they'd been lucky he fit into Rodolfo's father's clothes.)

Rodolfo handed the towel back, and turned back to where the man in front of him sat. Valeria had practically thrown him at Rodolfo, just muttering that he deserved whatever Rodolfo did, because he'd been stupid. He knew why she said that. There was a reason they all took Rodolfo, not Alejandro.

As he stepped into the small puddle of blood on the floor, leaning down and into the man's face, he didn't smile at him. He wasn't theatric, like Alejandro. He didn't want to be. "Where is he?"

The man probably didn't even have the ability to answer, just hunching forward and coughing up more blood onto Rodolfo's boots. "Please..." Nevermind, apparently he did. "Why are you doing this? Colonel Vargas keeps Los Vaqueros to a strict honor code?" The man was sobbing.

What a stark change.

Rodolfo grabbed the man's hair and yanked his head back, staring into his eyes. He remembered just an hour ago when this man was quipping and snarking at him. Colonel Vargas deserves everything he's getting.

When Rodolfo had seen the first video they'd sent, that was what had made his stomach turn. Seeing how they'd changed his love, his Sun, from the bright, charismatic man to the sobbing, begging mess that he was in the video.

It was wrong. Alejandro was strong, nothing broke him, but here he was, broken. Nothing could compare to that pain, especially after the months that Alejandro had been gone. After Rodolfo was so sure he'd have to face facts and give up on Alejandro being alive.

He was alive, and he was broken, bloody. The mockery they'd made out of him, practically pinned to a cross, a crown of thorns on his head. How dare they.

"Shoot another one." Rodolfo let the man's head go and stood straight, sighing softly.

The man let out another sob, "no, no- please don't."

Even still, Rodolfo nodded to the Vaquero that was pulling another narco from the ground, where'd they'd been lined up against the wall, hands tied behind their back.

Rodolfo didn't note their reactions, he didn't care. He only cared about getting Alejandro back. "Where. Is. He." He said, crossing his arms. "I know he's in this building, you protected it far too well."

Another sob. That wasn't an answer.

"Pull the trigger." He said, but the man stopped him, shaking his head.

"Basement! Basement! He's in the basement. The key is on me, you can have it. He's in... He's in the dog cage."

Blood red rage flared in Rodolfo's chest and he lashed out, grabbing his hair and yanking his head all the way back. Bruised eyes widened at him, and terror colored his irises. "You have an honor code..." The man sobbed, again. God, it was such a fucking stupid statement. Honor. "Alejandro Vargas-"

"Alejandro Vargas isn't here." Rodolfo lowered his voice to a whisper. He couldn't snarl, he'd never had the heart, but he could whisper. "I don't have an honor code. I have one reason for living, and you stuck it in a dog cage."

He let the man's hair go and backed up. "Just shoot him. Arrest the rest. Or kill them, I don't care." It didn't take long for him to find the key, not bothering to take in what his men were doing behind him, sure they would handle it.

Instead, he descended the stairs, walking down into the still lit basement, seeing it empty. Los Vaqueros must have emptied it out. Of course they'd stand back and let Rodolfo do that, they knew it was probably best that Rodolfo gets to.

He walked to the half-covered dog crate, his heart pumping blood through his veins at a brutal pace. Then it just shattered as he removed the cover, seeing his Sun lying there.

He was half conscious, he was alive, but he was destroyed. Unlocking the cage, he sunk to his knees beside the door, reaching in to nudge Alejandro. Alejandro's eyes opened and he turned to stare at Rodolfo, before Rodolfo had to help him climb out. The humiliation of the action had Rodolfo's stomach squirming and he wish he had done more to that man.

"Mi amor..." Alejandro whispered through broken words, blood stained teeth. "You've saved me..."

"Not fast enough." Rodolfo murmured, guilt curling in his chest. It hissed at him that he hadn't saved Alejandro in enough time, he could have saved him from being broken, had he been better. "Come, mi sol... It's time to go home."

He struggled to get Alejandro up the stairs, navigating around all of the blood.

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

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#alejandro cod #rodolfo cod #rodolfo parra #alejandro vargas #aledolfo #alejandro x rodolfo #call of duty: modern warfare ii #Alejandro Vargas #Rodolfo Parra #Alejandro x Rodolfo #Aledolfo #Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II #queue for dinner again hunny?

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pyjamaart · 24 days

Text

I never needed such help / This is my SOS

(Content warning: self harm) (If you don't have a problem with that, huge Drillman essay under the read more lol)

When I said that I wanted to draw Drillman some more, this really wasn't what I had in mind.

This week, I've been shopping for music on various second hand sites, which made me realize I don't physically own one of my all time favorite albums: "Squaring The Circle" by Sneaker Pimps. I had to change that immediately. (As well as buying like 15 other CDs and vinyls, lol.) As I was listening to it once again, I realized just how much the song "SOS" reminded me of Drillman and his struggles.

If you don't want to look it up, here are some of the lyrics:

"I look much smaller seen from inside out/Far too small to see myself/Down on reflection, cast in hate and in doubt/Flawed and flaws I add myself"

"Oh mirror mirror hanging on the wall/Please just show me someone else/My hopes were low and I got so much so less/Nothing left to save myself"

Listen, this dude got some major problems with his self esteem. He feels like an embarrassment because he was forced into a life he never wanted by his father. Now he seeks revenge on the company that bought his families business, along with him and apparently his bodily autonomy. Think about that for a minute. How fucked would it be if your parents wanted you to be a doctor, but a requirement for that would be to have your hand surgically removed and replaced with a scalpel. That's the exact situation Drillman found himself in.

Now a lot of people probably think "Well why doesn't he just ask Dr. Light to give him a new pair of hands then, if he's this miserable?" This is where we get to one of Drillmans biggest problems: the refusal to ask for help in any way. And even after the finale of the season, why would he go to the Lights for help in the first place? Wasn't it Aki who thought the best way to help him through his problems was hypnotism? And in the process embarrassing him in front of the whole city, ruining the last bit of reputation he may have had? (For real though, that episode is so hard for me to watch. I just feel so so bad for him, since I really struggle with social anxiety myself.)

As the guys from the Youtube channel "The D-Pad" (who reviewed all of the MMFC episodes) fittingly commented: "This would be like fucking Vietnam for him." And they were right. Obviously, Drillman is horrified that Aki would humiliate him like this and lashes out, solidifying his opinion that asking for help is a bad idea.

In that episode, there's this one moment that really stuck with me. At around the 8 minute mark, while Drillman is having a breakdown over the terrible "music" Aki made him perform, there's this one shot where he takes a moment to look at the drills that replaced his hands in frustration. The camera perspective makes it seem as if we are experiencing this brief scene through his eyes. It's actually quite upsetting. (A link to the moment I'm talking about: youtu.be/OC_jdhoeTrE?si=ZPzAXu…)

This is also a perfect moment for me to gush over the voice acting for this scene. Andrew McNee did such a fantastic job of conveying Drillmans distress and anger through his voice. That reminds me, giving him a British accent was honestly such a good decision.

The reason he doesn't talk at all throughout most of his first appearance is probably because the writers wanted to surprise their audience a little. As in, you see this big, imposing construction robot and think "Oh man, what a brute. He probably has a pretty deep voice." And then he actually starts to speak and it's this sophisticated, well-articulated British voice instead. Quite the whiplash.

To get back to the original topic, I'm honestly still upset that they didn't give Drillman a redemption arc at the end of the show. This probably would have happened in season 2, as Mega Man even says at some point "I know deep down your inner bits are good", proving to me that the writers definitely had something in mind regarding Drillmans character arc.

And now that all of that is out of the way, we can finally get into headcanon territory.

You might have seen this image while browsing the tags and asked yourself, "Why is this Mega Man Fully Charged artwork littered with content warnings?" And well, now that you're here and reading this, you probably know why. I can't say I've ever made myself sick with a drawing before. That's a first for me.

My headcanon is, that after the finale of the show, Drillman is just utterly lost. Lord Obsidian, who sought him out specifically because he knew of Drillmans problems and offered him a place to stay and a way to get revenge on the people he thought responsible for his predicament, turned out to be a horribly racist human who was just using him to achieve his own devious goals. After getting his ass kicked by the Lights, the same people who had not only humiliated him in front of the whole city, but who had also left him stuck to his abusive father for an entire day (I bet that ride to the police station was horrible for all the people involved, most of all the police bots who had to hear the Drillmen yell at each other the whole time), Sgt. Night is detained by the police. We don't actually see what happens after that, because that's where the show ends.

I'd like to think that the Lights actually try to talk to the robot masters once everything is over, telling them all the horrible things their so-called "leader" has said and done. And most importantly, what he thinks of robots: That they're nothing but tools to him. That once they had gotten him his Mega key, he would have wiped their minds and turned them into mindless machines.

I'm guessing none of the robot masters would take these news well, but most of all Drillman. I think that after he ran away from Skyraisers Inc. and fought Mega Man for the first time, he was really relieved to have some place to stay and a new goal, maybe even a robot to look up to. That being Lord Obsidian of course. Who knows what lies he told Drillman and the others? Kinda sad that we never really got to see what the robot masters who stayed with Lord Obsidian did the entire day. When they weren't causing havoc in the city, that is.

None of them seemed really friendly with each other in the finale, now that I think about it. I guess "Obsidians robot sanctuary" wasn't really a great place to stay at after all. But still better than being homeless, like that one maniac living in the forest all by himself. Speaking of Woodman, in my AU, he and Drillman already knew each other at this point. This also reminds me of something I forgot to mention in my last post. While I'd love to see them interact in any way, because they're both my favorite characters, I don't ship them in any way whatsoever. I'd also like to think that Woodman and Drillmans father were schoolmates back in the day, maybe even friends? (I'm still holding onto those 30 years).

Anyway, after all the former robot comrades part ways, now without a leader, what was Drillman supposed to do? Once again betrayed by a trusted figure, feeling useless and without purpose, still with these stupid drills mounted to his body... Still too ashamed to ask for help. After all that has happened in the past few hours he begins spiraling, which ultimately leads him to make a very unfortunate decision. Trying to get at least some of the freedom in his life back, he attempts to get rid of the drills making up his body on his own, using the same tools that have haunted him all this time to finally rid himself of this burden.

He regrets this just seconds after, when he's left with an unresponsive limb, metal and wires exposed and oil splattered all over his orange plating. All he can do is stare at the stained drill in front of him in horror.

"I never needed such help/This is my SOS"

Jesus Christ that got dark. Sorry. I mentioned in my last post that Drillman possibly has really bad body dysmorphia, which I'm also trying to convey here. Don't worry, he really gets his hands back after this. Maybe the Lights find him after that and the good Doctor offers to fix him up. By which I mean not only his arm. Because apparently, Dr. Light also doubles as robot psychologist. I just really need Drillman to get his happy ending. He really really deserves it after everything he had to go trough over the course of the show.

I also need him to have a DJing redemption, besides the normal redemption. I've seen people headcanon that he exclusively likes classical music, but I personally don't believe that. He'd be the kind of music nerd who would say stuff like "I listen to everything" and then you look at his playlists and he actually listens to everything. Maybe not experimental noise rock, though. I can just imagine Aki and Suna helping him put on an actual show, this time without any hypnotizing bullshit, as a way for Aki to apologize for the dread he's caused Drillman during that incident. Drillman would be highly suspicious at first, but actually goes along with it in the end. Maybe they'd also take Fireman along, who Dr. Light also blessed with a brand new pair of hands. The punchline at the end would be that Drillman would have so much anxiety about embarrassing himself again, that he forgets to make an actual set list for the gig. In the end, he exclusively plays Lady Gaga songs, which no one complains about.

Alright then, enough yapping from me. I've really been writing this essay since 8pm. And now it's 2am. My god. I just have a lot of feelings about Drillman.

But now I really gotta go to bed. Stay safe peeps. I hope you actually read the content warnings. Jenny out.

#oh man i would like to formally apologize for this #just throwing my favorite blorbo into the shredder over here #if anyone needs me to add any other content or trigger warnings please please tell me i really dont wanna upset anyone with this #megaman #mega man #mega man fully charged #mmfc #drillman #drill man #self harm tw #its robot sh but juuuust in case yknow #robot gore tw

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lailawinchesterr · 10 days

Text

stay, sam winchester

demon!reader x sam

summary: 4 x 10, demon!reader can’t have what she wants, not at the expense of sam’s happiness.

warnings; dean hating you, angst angst angst.

"i remember what it feels like, you know." ruby and i are waiting outside the demon proof panic room while the boys figure out a plan. she holds up a book and starts examining it.

"remember what?" i found ruby three months ago, you know, with the hit list from hell and all that, but instead of turning her in, i wanted to help them.

sam wasn't too keen at first, that much was apparent as he tried to exorcise me before i could say hi. he's powerful, it was one hell of a spell and it knocked me out for a few minutes. sam and dean aren't what hell keep whispering they are, they're not otherworldly creatures, they're human. they're the purest parts of humans we demons envy; hope, faith, and a little bit of lust.

dean, although made me his enemy, is nothing but kind and sweet. he thinks of others before himself, and throws his own body into the line of fire before thinking of letting the other get scraped. it's noble, incredibly stupid, but noble nonetheless. that didn't matter when he saw me though, with him fresh out of hell, his presence triggered me and my eyes darkened. it didn't take him all of three seconds to press the demon blade into my throat. the damn winchesters and their 'kill now, ask later' attitude.

i like helping them, it makes me feel like i'm doing something worth it, like they're worth fighting for. they're certainly worth more than lucifer, why would i follow him?

i take a deep breath and let out the words i've been holding inside, maybe this will calm me down, "i remember when i was human." it catches her attention too quickly that she almost strains herself putting down her book to focus with my words.

"you do? what do you remember?" sam told me ruby started helping them from the good of her own heart, remembering right from wrong and that killing innocent people like alastair had taught us, was in fact not right.

i wasn't like that, though. at first i just wanted to know why ruby was doing what she was doing, then it turned into a mind game. i couldn't tell whether what i was doing was right. i am a demon, i am evil and i'm supposed to be this violent creature yet here i am, sitting next to another demon so we could help the biggest known fugitives in hell, the winchesters.

she calls my name softly and i take a breath looking up at her, "what do you remember?"

"i'm not sure. it's just this overwhelming feeling of guilt. i feel like helping the boys has brought out more of my human memories than i thought possible, i remember the ache i felt when i didn't know right from wrong, and when i didn't believe or have faith, and i remember all the confusion and anxiety in my life. it's like my life is playing out in a movie in the back of my head and all i can do is let it while i drink up the negative emotions."

i don't think ruby expected that, because she's sitting there stunned and i think i may have just freaked her out. i'm a demon, i know that, but this whole 'nice' thing is new to me and she's been my only guide along with sam, i don't want to make her hate me.

letting it all out wasn't as gratifying as i thought it would be, i am still the evil i thought i was before, it didn't change anything except that now one other person knows the hell i'm being dragged through, as if i didn't see it enough times.

she mutters my name but we're quickly interrupted by the winchesters and anna's entrance, "i have a plan." when do you not, sam winchester.

"let's hear it!" i say, smiling. he looks at me for a second and smiles back before we both notice his brother, moving towards me. "listen, dean," his glare ever so prominent and his hand on the demon knife in his pocket, "i only let you tackle me the first time because sammy matters to me, i've heard the stories about the great dean winchester, and i gotta say, not impressed."

he raises an eyebrow, quickly looking over at sam, "'sammy' huh?" the younger hunter shrugs. i don't get the big deal, i like the nickname, he doesn't mind being called it.

"i've killed enough demons to know that i can kill you, no problem at all, no matter how much sam likes you." i laugh, takes a step back, two, three and just before i'm about to launch at that smug face of his, sam holds me in place, in the air.

"sam let me go! he literally just said he'd kill me." i struggle for a few seconds before deciding it's futile to get out of his grip without magic so i just lean on him, my head down.

this is so fucking humiliating, i'm a damn demon, i can kill him no problem. "i'm sorry." my eyes roll, my arms are crossed and i am so far from being sorry and he knows it.

"aren't you the ever so obedient bitch." sam's arms are on my shoulders again and he growls a low 'dean'.

one of sam's hands is on my hair, stroking it slowly, the other falling on my shoulder and he's closer than he's ever been. it makes me feel so fucking trusted, unlike what dean just did, that it calms me enough to not give a fuck what he says.

dean falls into the couch next to ruby, a hand on her shoulder he explains the plan. he is so fucking joking. so i'm a bitch but she's the love of his life?

"one of you will summon alastair, get him here. we'll bring the angels and let them fight it out. anna can snatch her grace from uriel while he's occupied. questions? concerns? awesome." i roll my eyes and face sam, slightly disappointed his hands leave my hair and fall back to his side.

"what makes you think they'll let us live after that?"

it seems like they didn't think this part through because all i get is a weak, "they care about dean, they won't kill us."

ruby snorts and voices the words stuck in my throat, "wont kill you."

i half sit on the table and sam takes it as an opportunity to move closer to me, forcing me to part my legs so he's slightly between them and i look up at him, "nothing will happen to you." i can feel dean squirming all the way across the room so, for his sake, i step back and all 6' 4 of sam falters slightly. its almost like he can't control his own movement but it only happens for a moment before he looks over at ruby, "both of you. we'll protect you, like we always have."

i don't mention that just a few seconds ago i was threatened by the very same man's hands i'm supposed to put my life in. ruby shakes her head and leaves, announcing she'll be back at midnight to do her part while glaring at me as if challenging me to fight.

i don't want to. i'm tired of fighting. in her absence, dean's hand in lays on the couch's back and it makes me look at him in a way i never have before. him being so layed out reminds me of everything i did back in hell, the torture. i could find sixty ways to turn his body into a cloth and make it hurt. i could kill him so slowly, but this time without any hope of a deal. i could do so much damage.

"hey!" i finally snap back when sam yells my name and i stumble back. i've never thought like that, not since i started helping them. "hey, why'd your eyes turn? what's wrong?" i shake my head and excuse myself hastily walking out.

it doesn't take a few minutes in my '95 ford before sam runs out calling my name. "get out, now." i sigh and get out of the car, leaning on my side. "what was that? you've never done that before, neither has ruby."

i scoff at the mention of her. she's a great person, don't get me wrong, but she's is definitely not a demon. i ignore him, opting for lighting a cigarette since we'll be here a while. that idea is quickly shut down when he snatches the packet from me and i roll my eyes at his expectant ones.

"what do you want me to say, sam? ruby's not like me, she's been in a human body more than she's been in hell, she hardly qualifies as demon."

"what? and you do?" his desperate words, his blue-green eyes staring at mine, him moving closer to me, it all feels too warm. so so so warm.

"yes, sam."

"no! you're not—"

"i'm not what? a demon? i'm not evil? i'm not here to instil fear and violence into your heart? because i am! you can't keep pretending i'm not, you can't say otherwise." one step closer and i'm pinned against my car, his hands on my waist.

"you're a demon, sure, but you're not evil, sweetheart. unlike every damn demon i've ever met, you're trying." he's right. and wrong. and he's everything else between hot and cold, like my skin is with his bare hands on it since he lifted the hem of my shirt up to place his hands there.

his head dips down ever so slightly but it's enough for me to look down, breaking his gaze and the spell he was under. "damn it," he mutters, head falling onto mine. "why do you do this?"

he moves away, hands still holding me and i shake my head in question, still feeling too warm to talk, "why do you keep pushing me away? i'm not scared or mad at you, what are you so afraid of that we can never have a conversation before you look or walk the other way?"

"it's just..." deans face, every single time i think about kissing sam, about exploring what this is, dean's face makes an appearance in my mind. demon blade to my neck, his disappointed gaze to his brother, the fight he'll pick with sam.

all those things are too fucking scary for me to ever let anything happen. i can't die yet, i want to help them first, i need to feel like i did something or else this was all for nothing.

"what? what is it?"

"sam, it's wrong..." i put my flat palm onto his chest, pushing away slightly so i can make an escape for it. "i won't do something that'll come between you and your brother, or something that'll cost you your fair thinking or," worst of fucking all, "something that you'll regret and chalk up as lust in the end. i can't do that to you."

i don't give him time to respond, though i don't think he would have. i step into my car and drive off. for now, the winchesters don't need me, they have ruby, i'll be there when they need me next.

if i'm not dragged into the pit, i will come back.

#sam winchester x oc #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader

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heyidkyay · 1 year

Text

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Sixteen

A/n: Heyo:) Sorry for the lack on updates, been proper sick:// But hoping you enjoy this next bit! Also recommend rereading the last section of the part 15!

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Angst, just yeah...

Masterlist

“Maybe it’d be best if you two take a walk, yeah?”

I inhaled sharply at Ross’s words and tried not to grimace at the fire that ripped through my torso as I did so. Ross’s eyes darted back towards the fort for a very brief second and, even though I could barely form a coherent thought, I grasped what he was seemingly trying to avoid here.

And I had to agree with him, so I tugged my dressing gown tighter around the t-shirt I currently wore beneath and glanced up with a tiny smile when Ross took my uninjured arm in his and helped me into my slippers.

“You gonna be alright?” He asked me discreetly, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

I swallowed and casted a cautious look over towards George, who hadn't moved an inch from where he stood near the doorway. I took in his peaky expression and shifty eyes but ultimately gave Ross a small dip of my head.

“Just, make sure Matty stays here, yeah?” I told him quietly, turning my face away, “And if Lee pops by, can you just tell him-”

I stopped myself abruptly and was quick to shake my head, thinking better of telling Ross that I’d yet to take my morning medication. They could wait a while longer, I could deal with the pain a little while longer.

“What?” Ross prompted me but I just shook my head again, waving his worries off.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’ll be back soon, alright?”

Ross’s expression tightened slightly but he didn't push me further on the subject, simply dipped his chin and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of my head when he pulled me into a hug.

I practically felt the chilly glare he sent George from over me, as if warning him not to fuck up anymore than he already had. And so I just patted the bassist’s shoulder softly when we parted ways and gifted him a small but grateful smile.

As I turned back towards the door I tried to walk a little quicker than I had been as of late- mostly to appease George- but that was quickly cut short due to the splintering sting that rippled up my spine.

Alright then. Fucking hell, I've got it! No more of that then.

It'd been a stupid move anyway.

I huffed inwardly at the thought and made it a point to ignore the worried gaze George casted me at the grimace I must’ve been making, his eyes bleeding into the side of my head as I stepped through the door, walking at a much more sedate pace now- even if it still killed.

I heard Ross mutter something shortly to him under his breath just before the latter followed me out, but with my ear still the way it was I couldn’t quite make out what it’d been.

I wanted to scream a little in that moment and the feeling only escalated when I found myself stuck with George, who looked almost as worse for ware as I did, in the ward’s silent hallway. Apparently it was still rather early and the nurses had yet to even switch shifts.

I made a small noise in the back of my throat, mainly to break the tense quiet we’d been living in but also because it was as close to an actual cough as I was going to get this morning. I’d already resigned myself to it, in fact. The pain so far was utter torture- as I'd typically come to expect each morning now- and I only hoped that it ebbed sooner rather than later, but I supposed that’s why I wandered a bit away from my room and over into the next hallway so that I could take a seat.

Sitting was a whole lot easier.

George turned the corner just as I collapsed into the cushioned bench which rested against a yellow wall and looked out at a larger pane of glass. He doddled there for a moment before he finally hiked up his metaphorical trousers and braved sitting beside me.

I would’ve rolled my eyes at him then but I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his face. The dark shadows, his scattered stubble, those chapped lips.

He looked like shit, to be honest. And I told him so.

“You look like shit.”

George’s eyes darted away from where they’d been glued to the window and over towards me, I heard the audible sound of his swallow before his gaze skittered away again, he merely shrugged in reply.

I clenched my jaw. Was this really what I'd waited over a week for?

“Almost as bad as me.” I added in hopes to get some sort of a rise out of him. He had yet to utter a single word, even when Ross had been stood there with us. “Smell a bit too, I reckon. When’s the last time you had a shower?”

His dark eyes, only made darker by the blueish hue sat beneath them, narrowed a tad.

Still didn’t fucking answer me though, did he?

“You going to, I don’t know, say something?” I gritted out with a glare of my own. That anger and upset I’d been feeling for days on end now pooling in my heart before it finally flooded my chest. “Maybe give me an answer to where the actual fuck you’ve been this past week… Let me in on what could’ve been so important that you didn’t even have the time to shoot me a text to ask if I was still alright- alive even.”

George’s stare didn’t diver. He kept his hands completely still. But I saw the slight twitch in his neck.

In truth, I really could’ve fucking screamed then.

“George.” I said, watching him.

“George.” I called again, sharper.

“George!” I all but shouted as I leant in closer.

And when he finally answered me his voice was a dry rasp, either from disuse or a prior screaming match I hadn’t been made aware of. But I didn’t make it a point to ask.

“What?”

I almost laughed at his one word answer. But I was too shocked.

“What?” I scoffed at him instead, “What the fuck do you mean, what?”

He made a face, and oh God, fuck the screaming I wanted to smack him over the head. He still wouldn't even spare me the curtesy of a mere glance.

“Are you having me on?” I bit out, irritated now.

“The fuck do you want me to say, Y/n?” George grunted at me before I watched his head fall lazily into his hands, harsh fingers pressed into either temple. The skin on them was what caught my eye though, all cut up and torn, his knuckles bruised too.

“Well, first you can tell me what happened to your hands.” I replied, squinting a bit to get a good look just as he ripped them from view. He went back to staring out the window again and I huffed. “Alright, can you can tell me where the hell you’ve been then, Mike Tyson?”

He didn’t answer me, just chewed on the insides of his cheeks.

In pain and questioning why he had even bothered to show if he was just going to give me the cold shoulder, I could only sigh as I slumped further against the wall.

If I angled my back a certain way my ribs usually didn’t act up, but even then, I had to be very careful- knowing my luck, I’d puncture a lung or something simply by moving.

I couldn't really guess as to how much time passed by with the two of us just sat there. Him burning a hole into the window’s thick glass and me only growing more nauseous by the second. But the sun had almost risen and the pain I felt had almost doubled.

I found myself desperately wishing that I'd just taken my fucking meds.

I was tired. Tired of hurting all the time. Tired of waiting around. Tired of fighting with George. With the world, really. It was just one thing after the other with me. Always had been.

And besides, I think I had more than enough reasons to be tired. Wasn't as though I was giving up though, was it? Not just yet.

With a small huff, I let my eyes slip close as I attempted to gather my thoughts, trying my hardest to ignore the current agony I was in. I had to get back to the room before Lee did, or worse, before Matty woke up and came looking for me…

But having just had that thought, I supposed it would be that exact moment in which George decided he had something to say. Because why wouldn’t he?

I gave an internal sigh at the sound of his voice and lolled my head against the wall towards him, peering through lidded eyes.

“I’m being a right cunt, I know that.” He muttered to me, still staring away. And God, if that wasn't the truth... “But I just don’t know what to say to you, alright? How I meant to act.”

Exasperated I tried to keep a level-head. Even though I wanted to fucking wring the idiot's neck, I could sort of understand where he was coming from. If it'd been him, I don’t know what sort of mess I’d have been in. Though, I would quite like to hope that I wouldn’t have immediately gone off the grid and done a vanishing act. I had a little more composure.

“Like you usually would, please?” Was the reply I settled on, my voice quiet to keep from straining myself much further. “I mean, everyone's been so off with me since…”

George winced, but I didn’t question his reaction. I knew why, he’d seen the accident happen, or so I assumed. And it probably wasn’t something a person wanted to relive, whether it’d been a complete stranger that had been hit, or someone that close to you.

It also felt a little weird talking about it right then. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to or… maybe it was because I didn’t want to talk about it with him. I didn’t want to have his pity, or even his disregard. I wasn’t too sure. But either way, I wanted to just forget it all. Right then, I just wanted to forget.

All of a sudden I hissed and my hand abruptly flew up to cradle my side whilst I struggled to keep the rest of my body absolutely still. My chin was now high up in the air and my jaw was tightened by the bite of my grinding teeth. I didn’t dare make another sound.

“Y/n? Y/n?” I heard George call out, but my eyes were already wound tightly shut, squinted in my torment to keep the room from spinning anymore than it already was. “Birdie? Babe, come on, what’s wrong?”

The pain I’d been feeling since having left my room grew so suddenly in that next moment, it radiated across the length of my torso and pulsed wickedly in my veins. It honestly felt like my blood was on fire, burning and blazing its way under my skin and destroying what little else it could of me. I was desperate to cry out, to bargain a plea, but I was too terrified to even breathe. Let alone speak.

“Birdie?” George’s voice stressed, now taking on a higher pitch, worry and anguish worming its way into his tone. I felt his presence right there beside me, the way his hands must’ve been reaching out to help me but too scared to actually touch.

He was in a frenzy, confused and bewildered. I wanted to tell him I was okay, but we didn't lie. Or we weren’t supposed to. So I kept quiet and bit down on my tongue.

“Nurse? Anyone?" He called out helplessly just before a fist pounded on the wall above me. "Fucking hell, we need some help here!”

I think that was just about the time I passed out.

—

“Are you shitting me? Or are you that much of a twat?”

I frowned at what could’ve only been Matty’s voice, shifting slightly in the darkness that now surrounded me.

“Oh piss off, would you? It’s not like I meant for it to happen!”

And that was definitely George. Guess, he’d stuck around then.

I wanted to open up my eyes, find out what had happened. But there was also a much bigger part of me that still felt a little out of it and was intrigued to see how this would play out without my interference.

“Maybe you two should keep it down, hey?”

“Shut up, Ross. Why the fuck did you bring him here in the first place?” Matty snapped back at Ross’s softer tone of negotiation, and I could hear the anger that fuelled him. It made me wonder what’d gotten him so worked up. “He’s been MI-fucking-A this past week, doing God only knows what! And you’ve just let him swan right back on in here without an explanation for any of it.”

“Well, I didn’t think it’d turn out like this, mate.”

Matty spluttered. “What did you think would happen?”

“Not this!” Ross retorted hastily, “Besides, we all wanted him here. I was just the one to drag him in.”

George had to be dragged here to see me? I mean, thanks to Ross and all- him carrying the ginormous twat in surely must’ve been a right sight- but what the fuck?

“Yeah, I wanted him here- days ago! But he was nowhere to be fucking found then, was he? Just pissin' it up and ignoring the lot of us- ignoring her, whilst she laid in a fucking hospital bed!”

Matty seemed to pause then and I heard a slight scuffle from the right side of the room. “Matty…” Ross warned, but evidently Matty hadn't appeared to have even heard him.

“She was in a coma, you know that? A coma, George.” His voice was like thunder, a total contrast to that of his usual lilt and I found it much harder to keep pretending I was still asleep. “As in, we weren’t sure when she’d wake up, if she ever would. It was touch and go for too fucking long and where the hell were you, G? Nowhere to be found when we had doctors and all sorts in here, day and night, just checking that she was doin' alright, to make sure that she wouldn’t crash again.”

There was a brief pause and the room suddenly felt so stilted. Even I startled at the admission.

“Crash?” Came George’s strained voice.

Matty simply scoffed at him. “You wouldn’t know nowt about that though- ran off before the ambulance could even pull away, didn't you G? But what a fucking guy! The best, our George! Gone before they could even give his missus a sodding hospital gown! Give him a round of applause everybody for doing absolutely fuck all!”

“Fuck you.” George spat right back at him.

I found then that I didn’t really want to hear much more.

“You lot just about done?” I questioned quietly as I sat up further in my bed, wincing when I found myself reattached to the IV I’d lost a couple days ago now. “What even happened?”

Matty was the first to rush towards my bedside. “You alright, love?” He asked me, eyes scanning and checking me over for any signs of discomfort. I rolled my own, but not unkindly.

“Peachy, Nightingale.” I replied cheekily, which made him crack a small, very tiny smile. His previous anger mollified and replaced by an immediate worry. Matty was now in full fretting mother-mode it seemed. “How is my favourite nurse anyway?” I quizzed, throat dry.

It was his go to roll his eyes at me then, but he was especially cautious when he took perch on the side of my bed. Though he tried not to make it too obvious.

“Peachy.” Matty mimicked me just as his fingers met my casted hand. “Gave us a bit of a scare though, dickhead. What were you playing at?”

I huffed at him and proceeded to ignore the question, instead gave the room’s two remaining occupants a quick glance. “Ross, will you tell me what happened?”

Matty went to answer the question but the look I gave him quickly shut him right back down, when I turned back towards the bearded giant I noticed him wearing an amused smirk.

“Pushed yourself too fucking hard.” Ross told me simply, his arms crossed over his chest where he leant against the windowsill. “Or in medical terms, you overexerted yourself, mate. Forgot your meds, didn’t you? Ended up feinting like a big wuss and pulling some stitches as you went down.”

My mouth pressed together as I internalised the information. But apparently that hadn’t been the end of it.

“Erm Lee also mentioned that they wanted to keep an eye on your blood pressure and hydration levels too.” Matty added in a know-it-all sort of way. “’S why you’ve got the drip again, darling.”

“Right.” My gaze skitted over towards the far corner then, to where George was still stood apparently. “Stuck ‘round this time then?” I couldn’t help but ask and the look of surprise that flashed across his face only gave me a very brief feeling of satisfaction.

Sadly, he didn’t offer me a reply. But that was also when Hann decided to make an appearance.

“The fuck’s gone on?” He immediately asked us all as he bulldozed through the door, appearing half flustered but mostly just agitated. “I had the hospital on the phone, telling me how your vitals have rapidly depleted and that I should probably get down here. Only to then see Lee in the lift on the way up and have him give me the rundown on what utter idiots the rest of you have been. I mean…”

Adam’s fatherly rant came to an abrupt end at the sight of George. And I guessed that Lee hadn’t filled him in on everything then. Though, that nurse and I would soon be having words.

“Why are you here?” Hann questioned George and I honestly think that it was the first time I’d ever seen Adam both so utterly bewildered and furious at the same time. He was typically so well-spoken, so levelheaded, but then, well let’s just say I’d hate to have been George in that current moment. “Well?”

“Came along with me this morning.” Ross stepped in to inform Adam as he kicked away from the wall to almost stand between the two bandmates. George just kept on staring straight at Hann though, unable to look away from the brunt of Adam’s full-focus.

“Weren’t asking you.”

Matty and I shared a wide-eyed look at Hann’s sharp quip, and I didn't dare intervene. Matty though...

“Um, Hann mate?”

But his attempt was cut short by the hand Hann held up to him, eyes still honed in on George.

I would’ve laughed, I really should’ve, but I’d been so shocked by it. It seemed like Matty was sailing in a similar boat.

“I think I asked you a question.” Hann spoke and everything seemed to dull then, as though it was only him and George left in the room.

George’s jaded eyes divered between Adam’s green iris's, left right left. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, a tell that let me know he was nervous.

“Got a lift with Ross, didn't I.” Was what he decided on, but to Hann it’d been the wrong answer.

“I didn’t ask how you got here, George. I asked why you were here.”

A silence dragged between the five of us then, Hann had taken a small step forward and Ross seemed to tense at it. But George did nothing, not until his eyes fleetingly skidded over towards where I was laying. That’d seemingly been another wrong move on his part.

Adam all but jumped to shield me from his view and I felt my own eyes widen at his next words.

“Don’t, mate. I just wouldn’t.”

“Don’t what?” George prodded, eyes hard all of a sudden, and he clenched his jaw as he shifted closer. “Come on, Hann. Don’t what, mate- look at her? What, is that not allowed now?”

Matty’s hand squeezed the pads of my fingertips, but neither of us, nor Ross dared say a thing.

“Yeah. Exactly that, actually. Why should you even be allowed in this room? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, you’ve done nothing to warrant you even being here.” Hann ridiculed, and we all heard the blatant venom in his words.

Adam and I, we’d always been friends, close but not as close as me and the rest of the boys. We were just an awful lot alike whilst simultaneously being a total contrast to one another. It was a strange concept, yeah, but that was just how it’d always been.

Growing up, Adam had never really had much to say, to share. He’d come from a good family, did well in school, never got into much trouble, done alright with the girls. But he'd never liked drama, and me, I had drama woven into my DNA.

That’s why it was such a shock to have him, out of everyone, stand up for me. Especially like this. He was all fired up, exhausted and irritated, and clearly so done with George's bullshit, it seemed.

“Piss off, Adam.” George grunted with a shake of his head and a scowl. “I don’t need anyone’s permission to see her.”

“Why? Why then do you get to just waltz back on in here after everything, ey?” Hann retorted, angling his head to further his point. “Oh, is it ‘cause you were the one who phoned the paramedics? Wait no, sorry, that weren’t you, was it? My bad, mate. But oh, you were definitely the one who jumped in the back of that ambulance, right? Ah, shit! No, that wasn’t you either.”

Adam pivoted just enough to gesture over his shoulder towards us, his eyes still trained on George even as he directed his next question to Matty.

“Matt, who was the first one down here when we got the news? No actually wait, out of everyone, which one of us never left her bedside?”

Matty looked a whole lot more lost than he had a second ago, mouth agape slightly and alert eyes darting back and forth between the four of us whilst he struggled to find a suitable reply for Hann, “Me?”

Adam gave a strong nod.

“Thought so, and who was it that fought all the nurses for information when she was in surgery?”

Matty blinked at him, “Um, me.”

“Right.” Hann pressed his lips together, “And who got us in here to see her even when we were told it wasn’t possible? Had to be the same twat that almost got themselves thrown out ‘cause they wouldn’t leave her by herself those first few nights, right? Who slept by her bed, night and day. Who had to watch her fight for her life. Who witnessed her seizing and code, again and again.” Adam looked over at us then, “Who was that, Matty?”

I squeezed Matty’s fingers as best I could, tears blurring my vision and stinging my eyes. I didn’t know how else to react, I hadn’t been told half of this.

“Me.” Matty choked out.

And then Adam turned away from us and shrugged once at George. “Where were you?”

George said nothing, though his eyes were glossy and his face betrayed every emotion he felt.

“Where were you!” Hann all but shouted at him, and even Ross couldn’t come to George’s defence.

I’d never seen someone look so defeated. So wounded. I wanted to reach out and tell him it was okay, that it would be soon. But they wouldn’t, would they?

He’d messed up, bad. And he’d not only hurt me, but the guys as well. It was a scary thought to be reminded of how highly they all seemed to hold me, that they would call out one of their own for me. If the roles had been reversed I knew that I’d act the same, but to have proof of their loyalty, their love… That was something I knew that I would never find again. They weren’t just my people, they were my family.

Only, now I didn’t quite know where I stood with George.

And it hurt. He’d hurt me more than any car ever could’ve by not being here. By having left me when I needed him the most.

But there had to have been a reason for it. For all of it. There had to have been. Because George, my George he only did what was best for me, even if it’d ripped him in two. And the look on his face, the tears that he wouldn’t let fall as I observed closely him from the other side of my hospital room… That look told me that he had a reason. A reason for all of this.

And I was stubborn enough to also believe that I’d get it out of him. One way or another. He’d tell me everything and we’d make things right again.

Because we had to. Because he was my George and I was his Birdie.

There was no other way this could work out. Right?

Part seventeen>

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komotionlessqueenmm · 1 year

Note

I've practically been stalking your old ivan drago content and saw your imagine prompt for being Rocky's younger sister and having a crush on Ivan, can you IMAGINE the idea of you, being Rocky's younger sister, seeking ivan out after his life changing loss because you know what that means for him? Just being soft and understanding because even though your brother won (and there's a good reason as to why that's the appropriate ending cough cough) you feel the need to offer a shoulder and comfort ivan because you see him for what he is, the product of having to please such a demanding regime? Maybe it's just my penchant to see big strong antagonists and want to hold their face in my hands lol (like iceman, my beloved)

Gah dammit now I wanna write about this!!!!

(No seriously tho I love this, I have daydreamed about it so many times, just needed someone to convince me to write about it! But I'm doing this as a headcanon instead of an actual story because I don't think I can properly get across what I want to get across. Which is why I never wrote about this despite fantasizing about it.)

Headcanon/Preference # 28

Pictures NOT mine.

Year posted - 2023

*I'm randomly coming back to this request because I saw it in my drafts, and I'm dabbling with a few pieces with Dolphs characters again, so I wanted to finish this one. That being said, I've actually got a story I'm working on based loosely on that imagine, it's got a fun little twist to it though. So keep an eye out for that, and I apologize this took so long, but that's honestly kinda just how I roll. 😅 ALSO this isn't exactly what you asked for, but I think you'll enjoy it regardless! MY BAD!

☓Before the fight☓

☭ So before the fight you'd only seen Ivan on the TV screen. But even then you could see him for who he really was. And apparently you were the only one who could, so you kept your thoughts to yourself.

☭ You more or less threatened your brother to take you with him to Russia. And he of course tried reasoning with you, but you'd made up your mind, and he wasn't going to change it.

☭ Rocky was of course worried that the cold might get to you, so he made sure you were bundled to the nine every single day. It was sweet, but a little annoying at the same time. And you had to admit the cold was definitely harsher in Russia than Philadelphia, and that was saying something.

☭ But despite the cold, and the harsh glare from the locals, you found yourself enjoying the landscape scenery.

☭ You helped to encourage your brothers training, and despite having lost your old friend Apollo to him, you couldn't help but find yourself enamored in a way with the Soviet boxer. A fact that you kept under lock and key.

☭ You wondered most nights what would happen in the end. What would happen to Rocky if he lost? What would Ivan go through if he lost? There was just so much at stake, and you couldn't decide who you wanted to come out victorious. Well both of them if you had it your way, but you knew that wasn't an opinion.

☭ You often replayed the fight he had with Apollo in your head. You'd seen how Apollo's theatrics effected him, and how unbothered he'd been by Apollo's taunting. How precious he was, and how powerful.

☭ It made you worry for your brother, but you knew he was one tough son of a bitch. You'd been there for every single one of Rocky's fights after all, even back when he was fighting in shitty clubs.

☓During the fight☓

☭ You were sorta like Rocky's coach at this point, well maybe not coach but rather his hype-man, always had been. So you were with him when he went out to the ring, and beside him in the ring.

☭ You had to admit, seeing Ivan up close for the first time... Jesus he was huge... And very intimidating with his cold expression. Queue your curiosity and worry both spiking.

☭ You shook hands with his team, per the typical routine, and when you were about to turn and leave the ring. You found Ivan staring at you, making eye contact, and maintaining it for far longer than you probably should have.

☭ Rocky noticed your hesitance, and gently bumped his shoulder with yours, knocking you out of your stupor. You offered your older brother a small smile, and he gently bumped your chin with his glove, drawing a proper smile from you. Which in turn made him smile.

☭ He didn't even notice Ivan had been staring at you, or that Ivan continued to do so as you left the ring. But the announcers? The fans? They noticed. So around the world people wondered if maybe it had been a bad idea letting you go to this fight.

☭ Before the fight started, you stood beside the ropes in Rocky's corner, and made good on tradition. Resting your foreheads together you said a prayer and wished him luck, smiling when he kissed the crown of your head before breaking away.

☭ All throughout the fight, you found yourself feeling rather queasy, you'd never experienced that before during any of Rocky's fights. You knew subconsciously because it wasn't just because of your worry for Rocky.

☭ You realized pretty quickly into the fight, that far more was riding on Ivan winning than Rocky. For Rocky if he lost, he would have been humiliated, and failed in avenging Apollo... But Ivan. You knew he would suffer far worse if he lost.

☭ You didn't have to speak Russian to know that his entire life would be determined by the outcome of this fight. If he won he'd be a hero, like Rocky was back home. But if he lost, odds are he'd loose everything he's come to know. How perceptive of you.

☭ Often you'd find yourself looking to Ivan when they were separated for a short break. Almost always finding him already staring at you, his expression dark and furious. Which admittedly made you a little nervous, but you didn't feel his frustration was directed at you.

☭ By the time they were both bloody and exhausted, you were on the brink of tears. And both men had noticed. Rocky trying to comfort you as best he could during his breaks, despite the fact that his state of mind was more important. (Something you kept reminding him about, but he didn't care. He's a good brother.)

☭ Ivan did nothing but watch, wondering if you were afraid for your brother, afraid for himself, or if perhaps you were afraid of him at this point? A series of thoughts that only confused him, and distracted him more than he'd care to admit.

☭ When Ivan picked that man up by his throat, you found that the tears had finally escaped, rolling down the apples of your cheeks as he shouted in Russian. His eyes found yours in the commotion, and he was certain he'd gotten his answer to his earlier ponderings.

☭ Little did he know you were crying for him, not because of his actions.

☓After the fight☓

☭ The crowd had boomed with excitement, and many people rushed the ring to celebrate with Rocky. You had watched as Ivan was led out by his team, and you didn't think twice about following them.

☭ When his team realized you'd followed them, they tried to shoo you away, but then Ivan noticed it was you, and barked at them to leave in his native tongue. Perplexed they complied and left you alone in the locker room.

☭ "What are you doing here?" He questioned, his accent think and heavy, like honey to your ears. "I..." You were at a loss for words. "I'm not sure... I-." He scoffed at you before turning away, looking at himself in the mirror, and glancing at you through it.

☭ "I guess I just wanted to see how you were... If you're... If you're okay." You tried to make sense of the way you felt, you knew you were drawn to him, you just didn't know why. He simply kept watching you through the mirror as you fumbled adorably over your explanation.

☭ But what you said next really caught him by surprise. "Your hands... Are your hands okay?" You'd asked, now looking at him through the mirror, he turned to you with confusion evident on his expression. No one ever asked if his hands were okay after a fight before, not even his wife.

☭ "I'm usually the one that mends Rocky's hands after a fight... Are your... Are your hands okay?" You explained yourself, taking a tentative step towards him, freezing in place when he stepped towards you.

☭ "You are afraid of me." He stated. "Not exactly." You quickly defended yourself. "I'm not afraid of you... I'm anxious around you." You added, thinking he'd accept that response. "What is the difference?" Ivan argued, watching you approach him.

☭ "My heart is racing, but it isn't because of fear." You tried to explain, feeling incredibly sheepish, especially considering you knew he was married. "I know fear... And you do not inflect fear in me." You added, sort of hoping he wouldn't understand what you meant.

☭ Thankfully he did. "I feel it as well." He admitted in a soft tone, not wanting to startle you as you gently unwrapped his wrist wraps. He noticed how you flushed at his confession, it made him smile softly.

☭ You tended to his busted up hands with a gentle touch, more gentle than he's used to. And by the time you'd finished, he couldn't help himself and he kissed you.

☭ It was tender the way he tilted your head back with his index finger, slowly leaning in to give you the opportunity to turn away if you wanted, but you didn't turn away.

☭ It's probably the most wholesome moment of his life, and yes I'm taking into account the birth of his son Viktor.

☭ You were just so sweet, peering up at him with big doe eyes. Foreheads resting together you both forgot about the world around you, if only for a moment.

☭ Ivan just wanted to wrap you in his arms and stay that way forever. He wasn't sure why he was so drawn to you, but he had been enamored with you long before you even knew about him.

☭ Granted you had just been a face on the screen of his TV, but that didn't stop his heart from fluttering at the mere sight of you. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps you were made for eachother, separated from eachother across the world.

☭ After what felt like hours the moment was ruined, because down the hall you could hear Rocky calling your name, probably worried sick about where you'd disappeared to.

☭ "I have to go." You whispered, despite not wanting to. "I know." Ivan murmured equally saddened. "Until we meet again." He added before giving you one last kiss, breaking away and leaving right before Rocky barged in. His heart shattering in his chest, as he knew you'd probably never see eachother again.

☭ "There you are!" Rocky breathed a sigh of relief, and practically fell into your arms. He never questioned why you were in Ivan's locker room, and he never questioned why you'd run off like that. (He had a feeling he didn't want to know.)

☓Years later☓

◈ You hadn't seen him since his fight against Rocky. And you wondered if he'd even recognize you anymore. Or if you'd even see him that is.

◈ You knew about his son, and his determination to fight Adonis Creed.

◈ What you hadn't honestly expected, was for him to show up your brother's restaurant, atleast not unannounced.

◈ "Rocky we need-" You cut yourself off as you laid eyes on him, he looked even more handsome than you'd remembered. Frozen in place you jumped when Rocky touched your arm.

◈ "You okay?" He asked with a soft expression, wordlessly pulling you into a hug when you nodded your head yes.

◈ "(Y/n)." Ivan had approached you both, and you could tell Rocky didn't trust him. "Hello Ivan." You smiled softly, those old butterflies from before fluttering around in your belly.

◈ You'd secretly been sending letters to Ivan for years, and while you sent them religiously, you only ever received a handful in return. Not that you minded, you understood, better than anyone.

◈ "Still so beautiful." He mused as if Rocky wasn't standing right there, his hand coming up to brush his knuckles across your cheek bone. Rocky was quick to put himself between you and Ivan of course, ever the protective brother.

◈ "Rock." You placed your arm on his bicep, gently tugging at his arm, a reassuring smile on your face when he turned to look at you. "It's okay." You reached up cupping your brothers cheek, smiling as you felt him relax under your touch.

◈ When you looked to Ivan again, you asked him if he would like to take a small walk. Rocky immediately tried arguing against it, but you assured him you would be fine, and he listened to you begrudgingly.

◈ "You look good Ivan." You'd mused as you walked side by side, just the two of you, as he'd made Viktor wait in the car. "I've missed you." He admitted, making you smile. "And I've missed you." You found it funny that he could still make you blush.

◈ "I kept all of your letters." He added in a soft tone, again making you smile. "Yeah?" You stopped walking and he turned to you, taking your hands in his. "Of course." He smiled.

◈ "You were always on my mind." Ivan murmured quietly before wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his head into your neck. You quickly wrapped your arms around his large shoulders, your right hand coming to rest against the back of his head.

◈ "You know... I never married." You mused thoughtfully, hoping he wouldn't think you crazy. "I couldn't bring myself to love anyone else." You added when he pulled back from the hug.

◈ "I would have given anything to have you by my side, helping me raise Viktor." Ivan closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back on his fantasy. "Want about now?" You wondered aloud before you could stop yourself, and Ivan smirked.

◈ "You would want that? Want me?" He asked with a small smile, adoration shining in his eyes. You cupped his face between your hands, pulling him down to your height so you shared the same air. "It's all I've ever wanted Ivan." He visibility melted into your touch.

◈ Needless to say the world was shocked to see you by Ivan's side, and even more so when you announced your engagement. Rocky tried to "reason" with you, claiming it was a rash decision. But you told him about everything, the moment you shared with Ivan in Russia, the letters, and the way he made you feel, the way he'd always made you feel.

◈ Rocky came to realize your love for Ivan, was like his love for Adrian. He knew you never really dated, or let yourself get attached, especially after his fight with Ivan. And despite his past with the Russian, he supported you (warning Ivan about what would happen if he broke your heart like any good brother would.), and he attended your wedding of course.

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