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#basically one is life the other is death Easy we get it. so basically the gidt is when you die. sad. rip. first.of all. but anyways
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Simon Riley NSFW hcs ♡
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Two lovely people asked for my NSFW Simon headcannons and I'm happy to provide!!
Just a disclaimer, these are my headcannons. If you have ones that are totally different, that's okay!
He's fictional and can be whatever you want him to be <3 (except a rapist. We don't do that here.)
If you have any COD thoughts or requests, my inbox is open!!
~ Fi 🐝
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I'm a soft!Simon truther until death.
There's not a single reality in which I can see him ever being too rough with you, let alone hurting you.
First of all, he has no fucking clue what he's doing. He's maybe had sex 2-3 times in his life and I don't think any of them were memorable or good.
I'd wager that all of them were hookups, encouraged by other soldiers to "let off steam". But Simon just can't do it, it feels so wrong. To give himself so fully to someone he doesn't even know.
There needs to be an emotional connection in order for him to feel comfortable and good. He needs to trust and love this person before he can do anything with them.
It's gonna take a while for him to open up, but once he does everything is smooth sailing.
(I also don't think he masturbated excessively. He probably jerked off, everyone gets horny, but especially if we say he's on antidepressants, his sex drive is pretty low. He's either too tired or just doesn't care)
Your first time together was fueled by a, not so uncommon, make-out session on his couch. It'd usually end with you grinding on his thigh or rubbing yourself over his clothed cock until you both reached a satisfactory end.
Simon thinks he could live an entire relationship with only sticking to dry humping, but in reality he's just terrified of the intimacy of real sex.
It's not too romantic, none of that rose petals lit candle stuff. It's not that Simon hates all of that, but I just think it'd be too much for the first time.
He's already so nervous (so are you probably if we're honest) and all that extra stuff would overwhelm the fuck out of him.
(He will spoil you with rose petals and candles another night, even if it just ends you with you falling asleep in eachother's arms <3)
Eventhough it's soft and sweet, you're both still very horny and basically rip the clothes off of the other.
Foreplay is important!!! (For all my girlies who don't drip down their thighs)
Not only for you but for him too. Even if he's rock hard already, he wants to enjoy himself, maybe be a tease. He will always make sure that you're okay and ready (and so will you bc he deserves it).
Would literally eat you out to calm himself down. He probably has fallen asleep while licking your pussy, it's his personal meditation.
Your taste, the way you feel on his tongue and the fact that he was two perfectly good pillows wrapped around his head made it easy for him to nod off.
Also, he prefers it hairy. (Fight me.) (pls don't)
I know it's cliche but he's like 2 seconds away from just coming inside of you the second he pushes in. Not only does he feel good but when he looks down he sees you and he could cry from how happy he is. He just loves you so much.
Can we please put the "You only take half of him" bullshit to rest??? Thank you. We all know Simon as BDE but let's keep it on the real side okay. He couldn't give less of a shit if you can take him to the hilt or not.
(Some gals physically can't bc if your vaginal canal is too short, then it's impossible. You don't want a bruised cervix, so don't be stupid) I do think when he's more comfortable about it and a little more desperate and rough, he'll play into the size kink.
He probably has a huge size kink anyway but he would never make you feel bad if you couldn't take all of him. (Especially if you're giving him head bc let's be real that thing is not going down no one's throat okay)
He has the prettiest moans. I JUST KNOW IT. they're more throaty and deep but they sound good. I honestly don't think this man is capable of whimpering (like physically. Not with that smoker lung) sorry babes.
Simon isn't too loud, but just enough to make you that much hotter. He will try to pull more moans out of you, like a little challenge for himself.
NONE OF THAT "10 rounds Riley" SHIT. (Have any of y'all ever had an orgasm before like?? Who the fuck is going ten rounds??? Not me that's for sure lmao) it really all depends on your guys' mood and neediness on that day.
I do think he can and wants to go a couple of rounds but it's probably more on the rare side and never more than 4.
He knocks out immediately. He's always tired anyways.
I think his favorite positions are missionary, prone bone, and cow girl. He likes the closeness, wants to feel every part of you and kiss it like his life depends on it.
The further you are into your relationship, the more new stuff you can try out. He's always gonna be hesitant at first but if it's not too out there he'll try it.
Simon will tell you if something is a hard no for him and he expects you to respect, just as he would for you.
Would 100% make you ride his face. Wants to he smothered in it okay. (Simon said sit, so sit.)
Simon would be down to tying you up (one condition; you're never tied to anything. In case of emergencies)
You won't get him to be tied up though, that's a real hard no.
I think the closest you'd get to a submissive Simon is if you order him around.
He's sitting on his knees before you and you tell him exactly what you want him to do (one thing Simon Riley can do is follow orders) and he'll pretend to let you be in control and maybe you are for a while, but deep down he's always in control (not necessarily sexual or possessively, he just needs the security)
He loves to get head (not as much as giving it tho) but he will never ever force his cock down your throat, even if you begged him.
He can't do it, won't do it. Has he had the urge and fantasies?? Sure, but it goes against everything he promised when you got into a relationship.
Sweetly suck on his tip and stroke the rest of his length and he's happy as a clam <3
His absolutely favorite thing is when you ride him in the morning. Just lazy and sloppy circles of your hips while you sit on top of him. He loves the sight.
Simon'll gently hold onto your hips and guide you if need be. It's even better if you're laying flush against his chest and the both of you are snuggled under the blanket.
Bonus; he loves to make-out with you. It's an unhealthy obsession that has led to too much lipgloss/lipstick ingested just bc the fucker couldn't wait 2 minutes for you to take it off.
Kissing you is his number 1 way to show you how much he loves you since words aren't his strong suit.
Needless to say, he's head over heels for you, and the sex is great. <3
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I hope you lovelies enjoyed it!
More of my works --> 💫
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typenull · 2 days
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on laios's approach to his consumption and desires
i am so sick of people making laios’s entire thing about “eating monsters” and turning him into someone that would eat a pokemon or whatever given the chance, when his entire thing is actually about both being the monster that’s eating, and the human being that’s getting devoured. because “monsters eat humans, that’s why they’re so cool (and everything i want to be).”
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laios’s interest in eating monsters stems from his desire to understand the individual species, and has since he was a child reading about their taste in books. it most definitely isn’t from an innate fascination with their value or specific usage as food. laios doesn’t eat monsters the same way that a human eats animals! this is most obvious when you compare him and senshi, who is focused specifically on the usage of monsters as a food item, and a foil to laios - who is willing to eat whatever just in order to understand it a little more.
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he may be curious how specific species taste - do walking mushrooms taste like regular ones? do nightmares and living armor taste like regular shellfish? - but these questions stem from a desire to understand them deeper and in turn get closer to a world of animality. personally, i think he would be offended at the idea that his desire to eat monsters stemmed from something so human-centric.
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(notice how he seems to care significantly less about being a ‘murderer’ than a ‘dragonslayer’ lol. )
we know that laios has been curious about the taste of monsters since he was a child, but he still takes it seriously. the only reason he eventually resorts to eating monsters with his party in the first place is because they were in a situation of life or death - and laios, like a monster operating under the rule of ‘kill or be killed’, knew that they were going to need to do so in order to achieve their goal on such low supplies. but he isn’t a surplus killer, nor does he kill solely for the sake experimentation or pleasure! he's actually extremely respectful towards monsters, all things considered.
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on top of everything... even though laios is clearly pleased about getting a chance to eat monsters initially, since he finally gets to fulfill a childhood desire - this actually sours for him fairly early on. in the monster tidbits page for the cockatrice, we see him lament on the fact that the information he'd idolized for so long ended up being totally fabricated, and doesn't seem too happy about pursuing his 'dream' of comparing the taste of cockatrice and basilisk anymore. i think this says a lot about his motivations and feelings when it comes to consuming monsters overall.
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basically tl;dr - what i’m saying is - yeah, laios eats monsters, sure… but he wishes he was a monster too, and he wants his own human form devoured. with this idea in mind, you can consider that by eating monsters, he becomes closer to them, and a little less “human”. (even though he knows it isn’t that easy.)
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this actually has A LOT of influence over late-game spoiler-related events - but i'll keep all late-game spoiler meta talk and panels under the cut:
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even in death, laios's ultimate dream is to be consumed by monsters and become part of the natural world! but i think what's most indicative of this approach laios has towards consuming monsters is when kui kind of makes it incredibly obvious during the fight with the winged lion, lol. it's the definining point of the entire thing, isn't it?
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laios, finally becoming his true monster form, is so overwhelmed by an unstoppable desire to consume his human self, erasing it from existence. he's so overcome with this desire to consume himself that on a surface level, it actually almost ends up becoming his downfall...
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..but laios knew this would happen already, and with it in mind, he incorporated it into his ultimate monster self. he allowed himself to be able to consume other's desires - including the winged lion's. by consuming the demon disguised as himself, he's able to get to the core of the demon's appetite...
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his same "kill or be killed" monster mindset is what allows him to win against something beyond human comprehension, something even beyond the human-monster dichotomy of this world. laios's existence as a monster and approach to life under these carefully considered rules of respect and curiosity are exactly what literally save everyone's lives, including himself and falin. it parallels all the way back to his initial decision to eat monsters at all as a last-resort decision of life or death to save someone he loves! laios saves the day by not being aligned with humanity at all!
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through this laios gets to prove his love and devotion for those he cares about despite how far removed he feels from the human experience. he doesn't need to be understood by humans, nor does he need to understand humanity... as long as he has his strong desire to keep those he loves safe and love them with all his heart, it doesn't matter at all. this entire fight is one giant reflection of laios's inner workings throughout the entire series, and i don't see enough people view it through that lens.
laios is such an important character to me, and this wasn't even supposed to be a meta post, but i got so tired of seeing people make jokes about laios eating monsters nonstop!!! thanks for reading! check out my dungeon meshi tag for more long posts like this one :)
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nomaishuttle · 6 months
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literally consumed by thoughts abt my freaks .
#theyre giving me sooo much inspo for the religious aspects of my world which. its kind of a feedback loop bc these ckncepts were already#vaguely there but i was iffy on them BUT my freaks r inspiring me 2 make them more concrete.. its all coming 2gether.#i think maybe there will be only 2 like Primary goddesses. names pending... but see. well teehee. ive got it all worked out ok in my head#basically one is life the other is death Easy we get it. so basically the gidt is when you die. sad. rip. first.of all. but anyways#rhen your soul is like there and then un reaper comes 2 get u so u go and then yr in the underworld OMG THE GUY FROM FNV IS FROM KY?#SHUT UP NVM THE GUY FROM KY IS FROM KY YESSS YESSSS Y3SSSSS YESSSSSSS#AWESOME. FUCK YEAH GO BIG BLUE GO BIG BLUE GO BIG BLUE YESSSSSSS#anyways. sorry#um. what was i on about KRBRJGBDKNF the wildcat coursed through my veins...#oh right..soooo in the underworld your soul sort of hangs around until its time 4 u to be reincarnated. n then indeed u do get reincarnated#immm debating. bc like. Obviously ... population grows#so im debating on if like. Can new souls be created. or should it hust be that the souls sort of... split in 2 on occasion. sighhh. i have#2 think abt it...but anyways yes. so you have reapers who take your soul when u die AND reapers who deliver souls to babies So that they r#people.. teeheed. but basically originally deathgoddess managed both bc shes the older sister and lifegoddess was just fucking about up top#having a greag time like. creating squirrels and trees and shit. but then people keep on dying and getting born and it gets too much#so dg basically tricks her sister into coming to the underworld. method pending...#but yeah.. eventually lg escapes But realizes that she can only stay up top for half of a day. and this is why day and night existtt we get#it... but yeah now she manages the delivery of souls and dg manages dead ones.#and im imagininggg another girl whos sortnof a scribe/chronicler for all the souls originally inspired by geshtinanna from sumerian myth.#bc originallyyy i was thinking abt having my guys be originally from sumer... but now that theyre in my fantasy world im judt gonna take#inspo. bc also it felt kind of weird to just be like. taking actual sumerian religion ykwim. but yeah#dg and lg are also inspired by ereshkigal and inanna. Obviously lmao. but im gonna tweak them quite a bit#oh anwhays. my 2 freaks i think ive mentioned them. Basicallyyt they were sooo in love abd then Aur naur they doid... sad..... so then they#get 2 the underworld they hang out theyre happy and then lg is like Ok time 4 u to get reincarnated and theyre like yeyyyyy and then theyre#supposed to be put on seperate sides of the world. and probably would never meet so theyre like Actually fuck this ! and bust out#and then theyre judt On the run from the death authorities for the next few millenia#and they can possess ppl btw. so yeah now rheyre judt running ariund#but also theyre so divorced bc being one of two immortal beings. and having one other person whos immortal. You get sick of them so fast#so theyre very divorced and have literally thousands of years worth of shit to bitch about but they also do have crazy sex all the time#anddd theres like one specific reaper assigned to their case and well theyve got a weird gay thing with him too... so yeah
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irishmammonagenda · 3 months
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MC's magic going wrong 😱😰
or right depending on ur outlook on life ig
warnings: swearing, mentions of death (extremely brief and only notioned towards), physical affection
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You hadn´t thought much of it at first when you got back to the human realm. Everything went back to normal. Or as normal as it could be.
Your mother and father sobbed when they saw you, stating how they though´t you were lying in a ditch somewhere in the stretching countryside. You´d lied, told them you were away on a residency based apprenticeship, that you were sorry for worrying them. Your siblings showed signs of worry you never thought they were able to feel for you. Thus you were being babied for a month or so.
That´s when it started.
At first, it was more corvids at the bird feeder in your garden than usual. Then it was stray cats. Then inexplicable black and white feathers dusting your clothing and hair.
Your mother smiled picking out the ivory feather from the confines of your unbrushed hair, "Oh! Your guardian angel´s been watching over you!" she says playfully, an old wives´ tale, nothing too serious.
You tense for a moment, before laughing with her. "Well I´ll take it as a good sign." Stupid old wives being the smartest people.
At first it was easy to brush off.
Then your father started getting lucky, he hadn't been one to gamble persay, putting a few coins in on a bet for the horse racing or the football was a regular occurrence, sometimes he won,sometimes he didn't. The difference of a few silvers, a share bag of sweets basically, made no real strain on your belts. But now, he was winning left right and center. Winning amounts that shouldnt be possible based on the amount he input.
Though, after you woke up to cats and corvids staring at you unblinkingly, in your room, with a few flies and insects on the walls, and your bedsheets covered in feathers and scales of all colours and sizes, enough was enough.
You were going to give those nerds a piece of your mind.
After shooing the animals out, (making sure to pet the cats), you picked up a lipstick, and channeled your pact magic before drawing a circle with various symbols on the floor,
You stilled, "Ah, shit. I dunno how to do this, i mean half of those symbols are angry faces and squiggles...." but ever the theatre nerd, you improved.
"I, MC, call upon the power of my pacts with the Avatars of Hell! and, using their power; a portal to the Devildom shall open for me!"
And a portal did open for you. Unfortunately, not to the best place. As you travelled through the time pocket you ended up stumbling once you made it to the other side, the stumble turnt into a tumble turnt into a fall. Unluckily for you, the thing you fell on was toned flesh and chuckling heartily, you were in Diavolo's lap.
"It's great of you to drop by MC!" He says, his massive hands pulling you further into his frame.
You cover your face with your hands, now noticing the various other nobles in the council room who are staring at their Prince, attempting to mask the fact their jaws are going to hit the floor.
Atleast the Brothers weren't there, but Barbatos' half polite smile half smirk and Diavolo whispering various playful musings of, "Did you miss me that much little human, we missed you too.", and "Summoning a portal illegally into the Demon Lord's castle and onto the Demon Princes lap...tututut." almost made the brothers seem like a mercy....
...almost.
You couldn't tell if this was a win or a lose.
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moondirti · 11 months
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animalic (4)
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← chapter three // series masterlist
pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.5k summary: things don't go according to plan warnings: enemies to lovers, light bondage, sexual tension, arousal, choking, canon-typical violence, dub-con elements, paralysis, suicidal ideation, self-hatred, angst, miguel o'hara is not nice, no use of y/n notes: y'all. i promise we are getting somewhere. i promise. lmk what you think tho cuz i thrive off comments
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“Lyla?”
While you’re – regrettably – unable to make good on your promise to phase through the floor, you catch yourself hoping it splits to swallow you whole instead. It certainly would be a better alternative to the purgatory you currently face. 
“Lyla? Come in, Lyla.” 
Feeble rays of light filter in through the weathered windows, their reach slowly growing as night surrenders to the wakings of dawn. Variegated motes bob lazily, suspended upon the streams of sun, quivering back and forth between a range of countless colours. Paralysed and splayed atop the frigid, hard ground of the empty store-lot, you try counting them all for lack of anything else to do. Pink, green, orange, gold. You wonder what force chooses the order, whether it’s sequenced to fit some plan of high design. 
“¡Ay, coño–”
Slowly, you let yourself scrutinise other things, too. The scent of neglect that permeates the stale air, particularly pungent around the entryway. You trace the yellow-brown mass that runs along the door’s hinge edge, and attribute the vaguely muddy smell to rot. Then, it’s the glint of shattered glass, winking at you from lost corner’s of the room. They look narrow, far too inconvenient to clean out with a standard broom. You revel in the understanding that whoever had been in charge of scouring the wreckage appears to share your habit of quick quitting.
It’s only when your vision begins to water do you divert your attention to the situation at hand. Last you needed to blink, it took half a minute for the command to register, and even longer for the motor neurons in your eyelids to act. By the time you eventually got them closed, you’d already started contemplating whether his venom would be the death of you. 
(Lame end to a lame life.)
It didn’t take a genius to figure out, though. You know that, if he wanted to, he could’ve kept imbuing you with the substance until your body was no longer able to perform the basic mechanisms necessary to sustain life. He could have kept his fangs lodged deep into your neck – encroached upon your stuttering veins, bathing in the ichor that flowed – until he felt you go limp, concentrated with his poison. It would have been a denouement to his problems – right there, easy, sandwiched between him and the wall – but it wasn’t. Because he didn’t. 
Just like he didn’t let you plummet to your death that day at the quarry, or strangle you while you were unconscious back at HQ. 
So, no. It doesn’t take a genius to acknowledge that Miguel O’Hara doesn’t want you dead. As he fiddles with his malfunctioning watch, you endeavour to come up with a divisive list as to why that is. 
One: you’ve charmed him. The notion is almost funny enough to elicit a snort, given that you weren’t cast in an immovable anathema.
Two: he’s a good guy. Somehow, this option seems less viable to you than the first. 
You find your third prospect slinging from the threads of a fraying memory. 
You’d been a student, before – attending college at a reputable institute close to home. It’s easy to forget what it was like most nights: cramped in that two hundred square foot dorm, borderline losing it as you tried to validate your claims on matter-antimatter rockets and their potential contribution to interstellar travel. There were concerns of total annihilation, and sourcing, and an array of other limitations – that which you’d dedicated your academic career to drawing up proposals for. It’s laughable now; the stress and theories blurring together to form a vague picture of your long-lost ambition. 
You have a hard time conjuring what exact future you were so hopeful for, but the lamp by your roommate’s bed remains clear in your mind’s eye. Warm-white, comforting. For as long as you were awake, tapping away at a never-ending thesis, she’d work through the latest volume of her beloved murder mystery anthology. 
It was the night before your start at an internship with Alchemax that the series came to a close. Her aggravated screams still ring fresh behind the clouded pane of time. You had thrown your pillow at her in a belligerent plea.
(You wanna elaborate?
The suspect behind every case was shot!
So? Isn’t that a good thing?
No, dumbass. It means the detectives fucking lost! They’ll never be able to prove how right they were.)
Admittedly, you know very little about Miguel, but you have an idea of what matters most to him. It’s entirely possible, then, that he refuses to kill you for what your death would do to negate his efforts thus far. 
“Oye,” 
Your mental traipse is reeled in when the devil himself snaps at you. Steadily, your pupils roll up to look at him. 
“I need your day pass.” 
You continue to stare. His jaw clenches. 
“Because of your little headbutt outside, my watch is busted. My only hope of fixing it is by using the parts of your day pass.” 
Is he asking? Does he expect you to respond? 
You can’t fool yourself into believing he’s that ignorant. 
But Miguel stays on standby, scanning your lax form. He takes in the webs that wrap around your waist, branching out to your thighs and shoulders, restraining your arms behind your back. When his eyes meet yours again, the reluctant question you see glaze over them pushes the recognition to the forefront of your mind. 
He is asking. 
Or, notifying – making sure you’re aware of what he’s about to do. 
God, you wish you could speak. You’ve never come up with so much to say without promptly blurting it out before. Irritation and amusement rip at one another within you, locked in a brutal dogfight fated to have no real winner. How hypocritical of him to pick and choose when your treatment takes priority over his mission; you’re littered in marks that all point to his prior negligence of such subtle humanity. Four stabs above your wrist, a pounding migraine at your temple. If it weren’t for your paralysed stomach, you’re certain you would have regurgitated your innards as consequence to the concussion he’s given you.  
But, oh. 
How funny would it be if you agreed. To let him discover the harrowing truth for himself. 
Deliberately, you muster an affirming blink.
Miguel's weariness escapes him in a heavy sigh, the weight of it etched upon his expression. Thick brows furrow, evidence to his age creasing between them, before he sinks down with a purposeful grace and carefully flips you over. Despite the resentment that festers in your gut, you can’t help but hiss a mental sigh of relief at the service it does to your elbows, which had begun throbbing in response to the pressure that the hardwood floor exerted.
From that point onward, it becomes a guessing game of sorts; you can’t see him, nor are you able to tilt your head and confirm your assumptions as to what he’s doing. Deprived of your most reliable sense, the others strain to fill the gaps in your knowledge, drawing upon every available cue; the sound of his miniscule grunts, the warmth of his skin – that which penetrates through his gloves. You’re alarmed into attempted action when the characteristic rip of his claws equipping pierces the strained air – your body powerless in addressing the adrenaline it secretes – until the spider-man touches his forefinger to your palm.
“Relax.” He all but commands. “I’m just cutting the webs off.” 
You’ve no reason to trust him, of course, but you can’t exactly pitch a complaint right now. 
(Perhaps it’s in your best interests to ignore how easy he’d been able to read you.)
A few moments of jostling ensue, before he withdraws with a curse. Your arms remain ensnared in the tight restraints, the ache that smarts your skin all too real for the continued predicament to be illusory. An assortment of jokes occur to you. 
Can’t get it up? 
In your peripheral, you catch him weighing his options. The pause is laden with a sticky indecision – this change in placement, you realise, exacerbates the already difficult task of breathing for you. 
While you fixate on that fact, he seems to come to a conclusion. With one swift manoeuvre, he positions himself astride your thighs, straddling the deadened extremities, and reaches forward to push your wrists apart. You’re quick to catch on to his intention, how the arrangement gives him better leverage, yet–
His groyne presses into the swell of your ass, worsening with every bid to sever the webbing. It’s impossible not to notice, especially not when the seam of your jeans start to shift in tandem, smoothing over your clothed core.  It’s not exactly ecstasy, far from it — no rainbow blooms, tingling gold from your toes to your nose – but it’s been ages since you were last roused like this. Enough for it to feel brand new, a wrapped curse in a prim little bow, eager for all that you shouldn’t be. 
And… Christ– 
And then he unfastens the lines around your arms, and runs his hands up your skin. It’s not gentle, nor is it brutish, but you can feel his desperation escalating. His touches grow progressively antagonistic, kneading your palms up to your shoulders, patting down to the shallow pockets of your pants. You’re searched like you hold the key to his success – you suppose that, in some oddly comical way, you do. And it should be upsetting, blasphemous. 
But you’re no sacred thing. You’d laid down that possibility a long time ago. 
No. You’re foul, questionable at your best, and erupt into goosebumps over the ruthless grip of a man who hates your very soul. You’re a deeply detestable spirit, truly, but a detestable spirit who has just managed to get one up on Miguel O’Hara. 
He throws you back around, wrapping his hands around your throat. His snarl is primal, maturated in acrid anger. 
“Where is it?” 
You’re sure that, in some alternate reality, your face is stretched in a shit-eating grin. 
“Where’s the fucking day pass?” 
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Your satisfaction is short-lived. 
You’ve never been one to notably detest humiliation. It’s productive – healthy, even – in smaller doses; a fitting consequence for those who you deem deserve it. Yet, as you find yourself unceremoniously hoisted over Miguel’s shoulder, forced into a meandering parade through the streets of New York, you breach into uncharted territory – a threshold where your tolerance encounters its breaking point. 
He makes no effort to soften his strides, unmoved by the idea of providing even a shred of respite for your susceptible self. If anything, it feels as though he deliberately seeks out the harshest terrain, silently chastising your earlier defiance in the most passive aggressive manner known to man. He’d reinforced your constraints before marching out on this fruitless venture, and now you bobble uselessly, backside pointed upward, anchored solely by the meaty arm around your knees. 
At least you’ve regained control of your mouth. 
“D’stroyed it. Gone. Dearly d’parted–” 
“If you’re going to run that little mouth, then make it helpful.” 
“M’bein’ helpfoo,” you start, straining your weakened vocal cords in an effort to mock him. The grip of paralysis may have slackened its hold, but neurotransmission remains at an all time, sluggish low. In all actuality, it astounds you that he can even begin to decipher your words from the tangled murmurs they become. 
“You had it on at the convenience, and a little bit afterward. You can’t expect me to believe that you dealt with it while running for your life.”
Running for your life. Sure. 
Displeasure sparks at the confidence he imbues in his assumption.
“Escoos m– hnngh–” A sudden jump of stress robs you of breath, your stomach plummeting alongside the rapidly distancing ground. As Miguel propels himself above the city skyline, effortlessly evading the crowded streets via a web he’d grappled to an adjacent building, you’re confronted with a stark reality – that this is the very first time you have ever, and likely will ever, experience what it’s like to swing. 
It’s exhilarating and nauseating all at once, gravity relinquishing its command as you transcend the confines of the physical, soaring through some reality where law loses significance. If it had been you, your arms and skill and jurisdiction, you’d never come down. But maybe that’s why it isn’t; maybe your life was meant to lead up to this, and only ever this. 
(Not antimatter technologies or heroic conquest. Yeah, this feels more fitting.) 
Your skin prickles. You phase through the sturdy frame that’s held you up so far, and plummet from its grasp.
Slicing through the boundless sky, you’re accompanied by a profound tranquillity. It isn’t absolute – fear still gnaws at your core, its presence undeniable. But, amidst the churning horror, your instincts are fainter than they ought to be. They whisper in a subdued tone, overshadowed by conflicting conceptions. One, being the inference you’d drawn earlier about how – whether you like it or not – Miguel would not let you die. 
Another, quieter suspicion hints toward the full reality of your… relief.
Though, of course, you’re right about the former. Tree-trunk biceps wrap around your waist, pulling you close as he slingshots off to a nearby rooftop. You flop into him, a ragdoll to the overwhelming force of his agitation, and squeeze your eyes shut at the hints of patchouli permeating from under his mask. 
You don’t have to face the gospel just yet.
“¿Qué mierda? Eh?” He shouts, propping you up against a ledge. “What the fuck was that?” 
You don’t have an answer for him. Your heart lurches, catching up to the urgency at hand, striking on the hollow bars of your ribcage to some reckless tune. It’s only amplified by the torrent of blood distending through your system, throbbing at your temple, rushing by your ears. 
What the fuck, indeed. 
He damns you, it seems, with a fervour that breaches the heavens, as if willing God Himself to commit his plea to eternal memory. Or not; truthfully, you can’t tell. With the roar of your own snowballing thrill, it becomes impossible to discern the sequence of interrogations that explode from him. The world around you fades to the background, your preoccupancy consumed by the disquietude it leaves in its wake. 
Your sense is only validated a minute later when, two blocks away, an ear-piercing shriek ruptures your dissociation. 
Miguel stiffens, slowly turning to face its source.
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𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘕𝘖-𝘏𝘜𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘐𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘓𝘠-𝘔𝘜𝘓𝘛𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘛𝘈𝘉𝘈𝘚𝘌:
Earth-15 – analysed, marked as closed. 
Spider-totem – The Spider: soon after being bit by his radioactive spider, convicted felon Peter Parker merged with Earth-15’s variation of the carnage Symbiote.
Notes – do not engage, at any cost. 
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chapter five →
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bigshotautos · 3 months
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I really like your theory about Spamton basically haunting a mannequin after death. Have you ever touched upon the reaction from Jevil (or anyone, really) upon seeing the new Spamton? Especially considering Spamton isn't even aware he 'died'.
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^ how i think jevil's first sight of Spamton would go. i love this ask. this is referring to some headcanons I made a while back, I'll link it here for the one post and the general ghost spamton theory is linked in that one as well. Going to elaborate on it more under the cut for those interested + more art.
In general I think that people from Spamton's past wouldn't really care if they notice at all, since he wasn't in the business of making close friends with anyone. With the Addisons, in my interpretation he had a "weird co-worker" relationship with them, and while Addisons in general treated each other like potential business competitors that they had to make-nice with, Spamton is especially easy to single out for being visibly and temperamentally different. His altered, current state is something they'd feel at least uncomfortable by, but many wouldn't have been too close with him to begin with for them to talk about it with him directly. Would get whispered about between each other for sure, like we saw with them talking about Spamton after the NEO fight. It moves him from the "disgraced guy I used to know" category to the "actually unpleasant to look at or think about" territory. This goes for Swatch, Queen, and Seam (less so), who seem to buy heavily into the Lightner and Darkner dynamic, with Spamton corrupting the Lightner's dream being a strong taboo against what it means to be a Darkner.
As for what Jevil thinks, Spamton during the NEO fight is both a beautiful and horrifying display. Jevil at this point hasn't seen him in years since his imprisonment, and in their time apart Jevil has grown to find novelty in the cage that everyone else besides him is in since he's created huge emotional distance between him and the reality he lives in. Seeing the fact that Spamton had corrupted an abandoned dream of a Lightner and was causing so much chaos to the established order of the world would be exhilarating, but at the same time seeing that Spamton had accomplished this and still had his strings visible (and changed to a marionette puppet with no symbolic agency), it'd be a painful confirmation of his worldview that even Spamton, who deep down he still cares for, could never have been free.
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Jevil would think at first he'd just gone through some nebulous situation to change what he looks like, since ofc he himself has toy-like traits (arguable if that happened with Gasterfication or not), Seam is a plushie cat, and other Card Castle Darkners are based on toys, but feeling the lack of life combined with the symbolic body of Spamton would mean to him something bigger had went wrong. He wouldn't dare to bring it up in an empathetic way, stuck in his mindset that it doesn't matter, but it'd still hit a part of him he doesn't like to think still exists. It's something he gets over quickly, almost performatively going back to fucking with him and taking advantage of his fear for entertainment, but it didn't sit well at first.
To me, the fact Spamton "died" isn't really a huge deal, kind of like with the ghosts in Undertale where no one really cares they're just ghosts. They're just doing their thing. To me it'd be fine if neither of them find out what happened for certain, but it's something that adds Flavor to his character.
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projecttreehouse · 2 years
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how to write relatable characters
writing relatable characters may seem like an easy task, especially when you’re constructing your protagonist. but what if you want to make your antagonist likeable? what if you want people to hate your protagonist but still root for them? all of this and more requires that your characters be relatable. they need to feel real, so how do you do that? here’s how:
- flaws: this is probably obvious. everyone has flaws, so we should give our characters flaws, too. this applies even if your character is non-human; they cannot escape the personification that we as writers or readers project onto them. we are humans reading, so we expect to see human qualities everywhere we look. if you’re having trouble of identifying your character’s flaws, here are some prompts for ways to think about flaws beyond a list:
what skills do they lack? what do they struggle with?
can their strengths be turned against them as a weakness?
what makes them react emotionally or impulsively?
are they aware of their flaws? if so, do they want to improve them or change them?
- quirks: these are what make your character unique or special, and no, i don’t mean purple eyes or unique physical traits. i mean: what makes your character authentically themselves? what traits define them that few others have? some ways to think about this are:
how do they react when nervous? do they have a tell? similarly, how do they react on behalf of any emotion?
what skills do they have that hardly anyone else has?
what obscure thing are they obsessed with?
do they have a unique outlook on life compared to their peers?
- values: these come from life experiences: where we were raised, our family and friends, our community, religious affiliations, etc. i suggest identifying eight to ten values that define your character and then narrowing that list down to five values that mark their core or essence. think about how these values influence their choices, decisions, and ultimately, the plot of the novel. here are some more prompts to think about values:
how do they react when their values are challenged? are they one to speak up or do they sit back in the shadows?
what, if anything, will change or shatter their values?
are their actual values misaligned with their believed values?
- stakes: what is at risk for your character? what is motivating them? stakes don’t need to be over the top or life or death; they can be as simple as maintaining a relationship or reaching a goal. unless there’s an outside influence (ie. percy’s mother being kidnapped in The Lightning Thief), most stakes—especially those relatable—tie back to values. even those influenced by outside factors can tie back to values: the only reason percy is motivated to get his mother back is because he cares for her and she is the one person who has always advocated for him and cared for him. he values family and riordan uses his family to motivate him and incite the plot. generally, there will be one overarching stake for your character, but throughout your novel, there should be several smaller stakes. these may not service the plot but should elaborate on your character nonetheless. some ways to think about stakes include:
how can i use internal or external factors to create convincing, relatable stakes that tie back to basic values?
why does the overarching stake matter to my character? why do they care?
how can i raise the stakes or introduce new ones that are relevant to my character and illustrate them as a relatable being?
- connection: even if your character is an introvert, they will still be connected to someone, something, or even an idea. we, as humans, look to certain people, pets, objects, and ideas to maintain our sense of reality whether we realize it or not. if your character prides themselves in having no attachments, think about the ideas or themes that mark the cornerstones of their reality. most human beings strive for some form of connection, so here are more prompts for thinking about your characters and connection:
what does connection mean to my character? how do they show how they value their connections or relationships?
how does my character’s behavior change when around different connections?
what connections define my character and their reality? how will these connections influence my character and/or the plot?
how will removing or challenging a connection change, influence, or motivate my character?
a good rule of thumb is to treat a character as a human, not a plot device. there is a time or place in which a character must act as a plot device, but if you’re wanting your readers to be compelled by your narration and the characters within them, you should strive to write your characters as human (aka as relatable). one of the greatest pleasures i find in writing is when other’s identify themselves in my writing.
you’re not just here to tell a story, you’re here to connect with others through the illustration of your characters. let the reader navigate your prose as a detective, to search for and identify the evidence provided by you. that is to say, show us how these things manifest in your character. don’t tell us.
happy writing! hopefully this post gave you some ways to start thinking about how to show the relatability of your character. if you have any questions about implementing these tools or about writing characters, our ask box is always open.
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cosmos-coma · 2 months
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My Sun, My Star- Part 3
A/N: I feel like I’ve been writing and editing this forever but I think I’m finally done! I had a lot of requests for the Winter Soldier meeting his baby and so here we are! Besides a small epilogue this will probably be the last direct chapter of My Sun, My Star. Hope you’ve enjoyed!
Pairing: Bucky X Reader / Winter soldier!Bucky x Reader
Words: 4996
Warnings: Blood, fear of kidnapping/death, threats of violence, swearing, pregnancy/labor/birth, GN reader (no pronouns), but pregnant reader, blood, canon-level violence, rare use of Y/n (let me know if I missed things)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
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________
“And you promise this is safe?” Bucky asked tentatively, his brow drawn together as he frowned in concern. His arms would have been crossed tight across his chest had one hand not been occupied holding yours. 
“It’s the safest thing anyone could do,” Maria assured him from across the table, “it should only take about 40 minutes. We just need someone to make sure everything is set up properly in the safe house. There's some light cleaning and we need to make sure that the locks are good, the thermostat works, and the signal jammers are functional” she explained at length. 
Today they were receiving a low-tier HYDRA agent that had recently defected. Fearing for his and his partner's life they sought refuge with what remained of SHEILD, promising to spill whatever secrets he needed to keep them safe. However, in the off chance it was all a ruse, they set up signal jammers so there’d be no chance of the agent alerting HYDRA or anyone else that may compromise the location.
“If it helps we can even keep the house under surveillance just in case. There’s plenty of cameras on the surrounding houses we can use to keep an eye out,” Maria continued, looking across the table to you this time.
You rubbed your enlarged belly, nearly bursting at the seams as you were due just a few days from now. Bucky had been the perfect companion while you were stuck at home, getting you anything you could possibly need, making sure you didn’t tip over, and keeping you entertained while you were mostly couch and bed-bound. 
But now you were bored out of your mind, beyond tired of sitting on the couch at home all day and night, so why wouldn’t you take an easy job and the bit of money that goes with it? You can waddle around for a while to check some things out. You might be a little slow, but it couldn’t be more than an hour at most. What’s the harm in that?
 “I’d love to, when do I start?” 
Bucky did not have a good feeling about this.
____
It started as any other day; fairly quiet and mundane, and although it would be boring to anyone else, you were just happy to see something other than the inside of your apartment. You pulled the car to a stop in the driveway, looking up at the nice yet bland little house that sat before you. It was a good-looking neighborhood just an hour outside of the city, with decently spaced houses and gardens dotting the lawns here and there. And if you were anybody else it’d be your perfect suburban dream.
After a brief moment of struggling to squish your belly past the steering wheel you finally managed to hobble out, “Ha ha! See? Pregnancy isn’t so hard… I make this look easy,” you boasted to yourself with a grand smile as you stepped out of the car. You took a moment to dig your knuckles into your lower back as you exited, trying to chase away the pain you felt. It had started aching something awful on your way out here, cresting and falling in small waves, but it was nothing you couldn’t work around. You’d lay down eventually and you're sure it would right itself in no time.
You waved to the cameras pleasantly as you walked to the front door, clicking the key into the lock and punching in the ever-changing security code Maria gave you. Unlocking with a lighthearted mechanical chirp you stepped inside and looked around.
It was pretty bare bones; just the basic necessities- food, water, a couple of games, and a shelf of books to pass the time with. Curtains were drawn tight over the windows, keeping the place veiled in shadowy darkness and prying eyes out as you took your first few steps in. Closing the door behind you with a soft click you pulled out your phone to text Maria.
‘Testing testing 123,’ you sent, pausing a moment before giving a satisfactory nod as it refused to go through. The jammers seemed to be working just fine. 
Bucky had been thoroughly against it when he heard there’d be signal jammers; he did not want you anywhere you couldn’t contact him with your due date so soon. But Maria assured him (as much as she could) that you’d still be able to call if needed- and vice versa- but that you’d have to use the tapped landline hanging inside the kitchen. 
You hummed softly as you went about your work, ignoring the discomfort that ran down your back and stomach as you moved. You were just about halfway through your list when you felt your belly begin to quake, “Ohhh, hey. Okay, I know you probably wanna sit down, but we’ve barely started,” You winced as you rubbed your stretched-out skin, only to be met with a sharp kick. 
“Ow! Okay! okay, maybe 5 minutes on the couch first…,” You held both your back and your stomach as you waddled toward the couch slowly, surely looking like quite the sight had anyone been around to see it. 
Clink clink clink
You paused as you heard the front door jiggle. 
No one was supposed to be here for hours yet.
It jiggled again, and this time you heard the voices of several people standing outside. 
“There’s a car outside, he’s got to be here” you barely made out as the first voice mumbled, “if not him, then his partner- And I won’t be going back empty-handed,” another chimed in.
“We’ll find a way to keep him silent. Whether with his blood or theirs.”
Your stomach dropped.
They must’ve been HYDRA agents. Were they here for the defector? How on earth did they find this place? 
But there was no time to think as the landline rang loudly from the kitchen. Wincing, you prayed to anyone who would listen that they wouldn’t hear it- but no such luck.
The door rattled again, violently this time, and was followed by mumbled threats to an agent you had never met.
Panic coursed through your body as you waddled quickly through the house, head turning this way and that as you searched desperately for a place to hide. 
‘Can’t fit under the bed, the bathroom is too obvious, the kitchen is too open, I can’t go outside, and I can’t fight my way out…’ Your brain ran through endless possibilities, unhappy with each one as you clutched your stomach.
Pew pew
You recognized the sound of muffled gunshots immediately, they were quieted by a silencer- a terrifying thought- but you recognized them all the same as they shot through the security pad outside the door. 
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you cursed as you bolted toward your last choice, darting into the closest bedroom and tucking yourself behind the closet’s sliding doors, pulling them closed with a swift slam just as the front door busted in. 
‘Deep breaths… Deep breaths…,’ You tried to slow your frantic breathing as footsteps entered the otherwise silent house. You desperately wished there were clothes, anything, in this closet you could hide beneath but it was as bare as the rest of the house. Sitting down, you curled into the furthest corner of the closet you could, forcing your heavy breaths into silence as you raked your brain for any solution you could.
‘Ah! My phone!! I can text for help!’ You scrambled to pull your phone from your pocket and quickly typed out a message to Bucky. Hopefully, he’d alert the others and be the first to come to your rescue. 
“No, no, no, no…” you groaned quietly, “Why isn’t it sending?” You shook your phone angrily as it continued to refuse you and sighed in defeat when you finally remembered the jammers set up throughout the house. Your only hope now was the landline in the kitchen….
“Spread out,” the HYDRA leader commanded as he made his way into the house, picking up your bag that you so carelessly left out, “Find whoever’s here, and do whatever you need to bring them in. As long as they’re breathing, I don’t care how they come back,” He ordered, several pairs of feet breaking away immediately to search through the house. 
You pulled your knees as close to your chest as you could, tears prickling your eyes as you tried to think of a way out. You weren’t even sure when the tears started to run, your mind growing numb as you thought of bad ending after bad ending. Doors slammed on the floor above you, making you flinch as you knew that at any moment it could be yours. You were trapped
But you had to be calm- Bucky would want you to remain calm. You could think of a way out, you knew you could, you just needed to take a deep breath. What would Bucky tell you to do? 
 You had just managed to get yourself somewhat calm again when a sudden wetness took over your lower half. Panic set in again as you scrambled to see over your ballooned belly, fearfully wishing this wasn’t what you thought it was. But as an even worse pain tore through you, like knives jabbing into your pelvis, you knew you weren’t mistaken. 
Your water just broke.
——-
Technicians clacked away at their keyboards with lightning speed as Maria Hill entered the room. They had called her not too long ago, alerting her of an urgent matter- but even she couldn’t have guessed what this was about. 
“There’s been a security breach…” the head technician announced as she flicked across their various screens to show her. “They weren’t subtle about it, I’m not sure if they wanted us to know or if they just didn’t care, but-“ 
“What did they take?” Maria interrupted, trying to get to the point.
“That’s the thing… they bypassed all our important files, the only file they actually opened was the one containing the safe house addresses…” she looked up at Hill with an expression that could only be described as nauseous, “We tried calling Y/n, but there was no answer…,” she bit her lip as she finished, even she obviously expected the worst.
Maria’s jaw clenched. She knew Barnes was going to kill her as soon as he found out, but she couldn’t just keep it from him either- “Pull up the security footage of house #6… now. Right now….” Her pen clicked nervously in her hand as she waited for it to come up, her stomach dropping as she saw a dark SUV in the driveway, the front door left partially open, and the security panel completely down. 
“Rewind it…” she ordered, clicking her pen faster and- “Shit. This is…. Not ideal…” Maria said, obviously trying to keep her voice level and professional. 
She stood behind her technicians, watching the back-tracked security film play the video of trained agents pulling up to the safe house and shooting in the door. 
“Alert the team… I need to make a call.” 
She slowed the clicking of her pen as the phone rang, barely getting out one full ring before it was immediately answered.
“Where do I need to be?” His voice was low, anger barely being held back on its tight leash. He already expected the worst and unfortunately, this time he was right.
“Sargeant Barnes, we have a situation... I’m sending you the address now.”
————
Horns blared as Bucky swerved onto the shoulder, speeding past traffic as he made his way to the safe house. His knuckles were a ghastly white as he gripped the steering wheel like a vice, the creaking of steel beneath his hands the only thing keeping him connected to the present.
He should have never let Maria talk you into it, or at the very least he should have been there to help you. 
“Sergeant Barnes, we have a situation… I’m sending you the address now” Maria said.
“What kind of situation…?” His voice had been deathly low, barely restraining the anger it held. He made a beeline for the car as soon as he saw Maria’s name flash on the screen. He’d had his phone in hand all morning just for this exact scenario.
He could hear her frown through the phone and his skin burned with worrisome anger as she spoke, “HYDRA’s broken into the safe house… we’ve tried to contact Y/n but there was no answer. They’re still there, no one has left, and as far as we know there’s been no shots fired besides at the front door.”
He nodded curtly as he hung up, putting the car into gear and peeling out of the lot with a roaring screech of his tires. He couldn’t count the number of laws he broke as he tore through the city’s endless streets racing against an invisible clock.
Out of nowhere his arm jerked to the side, pulling him from his thoughts as he narrowly missed a stopped car before him. Stunned breaths caught in his chest as he realized what a close call it was, literally inches from disaster. 
His body had acted without thinking, moving almost like it had a mind of its own… it was only when the back of his mind began to itch and squirm did he know why. 
 “Shit...” he sighed. The Winter Soldier must’ve sensed what was going on, digging himself toward the forefront of Bucky’s mind to take over. Bucky was still in control for now, but he wasn’t sure how much longer it would last.
“I guess I owe you a thanks,” he begrudgingly mumbled to himself, focusing once more on the road ahead. He was just 25 minutes out and he prayed he’d get there in time.
Continuing down the road he shifted uncomfortably; the Winter Soldier’s presence didn’t fade, but it didn’t press any further either. It was almost like he was… waiting for permission? 
Bucky shook his head. 23 minutes out.
He knew you trusted the assassin, and after watching the videos of your last interaction he… trusted him too- to a point. But even with this iota of trust, his instincts still had him hesitating to relinquish control. What if it didn’t have a happy ending this time? What if he went too far? What if he couldn’t come back…?  The fear had been ingrained in him so long ago that he wasn’t sure he could ever fully give it up. 
But he may not have a choice anymore. If what Hill said was right then there were at least 6 agents waiting for him and he was completely unarmed. There was only one person he knew that could bring both of you out in one piece…
“Fuck,” Bucky swore. He knew what he had to do. Speeding passed the last car in his way, he pulled out into the empty straight-away before him. Bright blue eyes stared back at him through the rear-view mirror as he sighed, “Don’t make me regret this…” 
Pain rippled through his skull, ringing as if his head was stuck inside a church bell. Haze crept into his sight as the edges of his vision blurred and he let himself fully slide into the backseat of his consciousness. His shoulders shifted slowly, rolling as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter. The soft material caved under his metal fingers with a wretched creak, leaving ripples in the leather-covered metal. 
As the cloud of pain finally passed, burning away like early morning fog, he pulled the rear-view mirror down. A familiar dark aura surrounded his gaze as he watched himself, trained and sharp as he nodded to his reflection. 
He wasn’t Bucky anymore.
“Вы не будете [you won’t].” 
————
“No no no no…. Not right now, please. Anything, but this-“ you paused your mumbling as footsteps passed right in front of the room, “-Okay maybe not anything, but still….” 
You held your breath, tensing as another contraction passed through you and you willed yourself not to make a sound, but it was getting harder and harder each time. It dawned on you that you must have been having contractions this whole time. That pain in your back when you started driving down, the quaking of your belly, it was all a part of your labor- you just didn’t realize until your water finally broke.
Tears flowed freely from your eyes, not at the pain but at the horror of your situation; There was no way to get out without being seen, you were far too slow for that in your current state and you were bound to be bagged and shoved in a van as soon as they caught you. However, you couldn’t wait and hope to give birth in this closet either; the moment she comes out she’s going to be a screaming mess and then you’ll both be in a vulnerable state.
‘Where is Bucky…?’ You thought as tears clouded your vision, your fingers redialing him from memory alone even if you knew it would never go through, ‘please, please… I have to do something…’
You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes as you furiously rubbed the tears away, again trying to remain calm. ‘Okay, think… think… maybe I can slip out through the window…? If I’m quiet enough maybe I can take my time with it?’ You thought as you peeked through the slats in the closet doors. 
You hoped that the windows wouldn’t be locked as you looked down at your phone again, trying to time out your contractions, ‘Okay…. After the next one hits we’ll just make a break for the window.. that should be more than enough time to get myself out, right? Thank god I hid on the first floor.’
You waited until your next contraction hit, biting down on your lip to keep yourself quiet. You breathed furiously through your nose to try to keep your composure and began to taste iron as blood spilled into your mouth.  But you didn’t care- you couldn’t afford to.
“Shit, shit, okay…” you breathed as it finally passed, slowly shifting onto your hands and knees, reaching for the knob when- 
Click
You heard the door to the room click open and footsteps come inside. Quickly covering the gasp that threatened to escape, you eased back down slowly. Fear froze your entire body, you didn’t even realize when you started holding your breath, but you weren’t about to let it go now.
You wasted your time and now you were stuck here; dear god were you gonna die in a closet? This is not how you imagined yourself going. 
Through the slats in the closet doors, you watched the agent check the room, under the bed, under the desk- he had just started to leave when he stopped in front of the closet doors, his feet turning to face you.
Your heart squeezed painfully as every part of you waited with bated breath. You heard his hand fall on the knob. This was it. The moment he opened it he was bound to see you. You had nowhere left to hide. 
You only hoped it would be quick. 
You closed your eyes as you heard the closet door begin to open. You were sure you had been seen until- 
“Hm?” The agent said as he turned toward the commotion happening in the other room. His hand left the knob and you watched as his shadow quietly slink away toward the sound of growing struggle and gunfire. 
Was now your chance..?
BANG
‘NOPE!’ You screamed in your head as gunfire went off right outside the room's door, accompanied by the heavy thud of a body and cloth on tile as it was dragged away. Boots squelched against the hall's sleek floors, coming closer until they transitioned to the sound-absorbing carpet of the room. 
Braving a peek through the thin slats you saw blood-covered boots, different ones than the agent just before, but the same terror filled you as you noticed them facing you. 
Your breath burned as you held it still in your lungs, your whole body tense with anxiety. Did someone hear you? Did they know you were here? You had kept yourself so hidden, how did they know?
“Ты не сможешь спрятаться от меня, дорогая... Я узнаю свое солнце где угодно [you can’t hide from me, darling… I’d know My Sun anywhere].”
You knew that voice... You knew that voice..!
Cautiously, holding your stomach close you peeked past the sliver of an opening, “My Star…?” 
He was covered in smatterings of blood from his head to his boots, yet thankfully none of it seemed to be his own. Despite his slightly battered and blood-covered appearance, his darkened eyes swam with reverence and relief as his strange little smile shined brighter than his namesake. You couldn’t be sure exactly when the assassin’s persona had come out, but you were beyond glad he was here.
“My star!” You beamed and scrambled to your feet to launch yourself at the Assassin, only making it halfway off the floor before crumbling back into a tight ball. You yelled, tears flowing once more as you finally put voice to the pain of your contractions, they were coming on much quicker now. 
Obvious worry flashed across his face as he rushed in to catch you, gently easing you onto the floor. Hands roamed over you in a cursory search as he spoke, trying to find the source of your pain, “My Sun? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” 
You whimpered as the pain lingered, wisps of it swirling across your stomach and hips before finally settling away, “Ah…. No, I’m fine- mostly fin…” you shuddered as you clung tight to his arms, trying to stand. 
“I’ve got you…” The Soldier soothed with a murmur, his voice surprisingly sweet in your ear as he whispered soft words, “You’re okay now….” Careful eyes scanned over your body again as you were scooped off the ground by two strong arms, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he saw you were indeed unharmed. 
You couldn’t find it in yourself to care for the way blood stained your clothes and smeared across your skin as you were held fast against his chest. He held you like you were everything delicate about the world, and to him you were. Turning his face into your neck he breathed in every part of you- the fear, the sweetness, the grime, the love; he wanted to breathe in every moment that he had missed.
“My Sun, how long has it been..? You’ve grown so much…,” Adoration pooled in his once frigid eyes as they washed over you. As steady as he could manage he settled you on the small heap of pillows making their home on the bed. His large warm hand was like a godsend as he pressed it against your aching belly, his touch seeming to quell everything- even for just a moment. 
“4 months…” you replied, all your focus was on breathing through your nose while your hands absentmindedly went to remove your pants, finding difficulty when your nearly 9-month belly got in the way. 
“4 months… so this-” His voice paused as he stepped in to help remove your pants. His eyes cast down to your belly, seemingly searching for a moment before looking back up at you, and for once you saw the Winter Soldier’s darkened gaze filled with never-ending light. “I finally get to meet her..?” his voice was uncharacteristically soft as he spoke, his words filled with disbelief, “I get to meet our girl…?” he whispered as if he was scared that speaking too loud would surely jinx it. 
Your lips cracked into a small smile as you watched him, your heart fluttering all the more as he spoke in hushed tones. You nodded as you took his hand against your quaking belly, “It’s time… But I can’t do this on my own,” you looked up at him with big eyes, ones that spoke of urgency and need, “I don’t know if anyone else is coming, and I don't know if we have time to wait for them either,” you said, looking at him in hopes that he’d begin to understand. “I need you to help me when she comes, okay? I… I think I need you to deliver her.”
Light-filled blue eyes faltered as he looked from you to your stomach and back again. His hands were used to taking life from this world, not bringing it in. Not to mention that, unlike Bucky, He did not have the time nor the resources to read parenting books; he was completely unprepared for a mission like this and for once he actually found himself scared. 
“Ah… My Sun, I-” he started. What if he messed it up? What if he hurt her? … What if he really was only good at one thing- killing? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if this went wrong- and he knew his gentler half wouldn’t either.
“I’ll try to walk you through it, okay? Please?” you begged as you squeezed his hand. You were terrified, plain and simple, but between the two of you- you were the only one with hours of anxiety-filled Google searches under your belt and for now, that would just have to do.
His eyes shot back up to yours, searching your gaze for a moment before nodding, “Okay, My Sun… anything you ask…” he promised. And he did, anything and everything you asked of him he was quick to get, whether it was more pillows, washing the blood from his face, or giving you his hand so you could break it as you squeezed.
Your contractions began getting closer and closer until they were only mere minutes apart. Pain ripped through every fiber of your muscles, every shard of your bone, and every cell of your organs as your baby girl squirmed to be free. 
“I can’t… I can’t hold her in anymore…” you said wearily, your hair probably this way and that, but all you knew was how tired you were already. Your eyelids hung half-lidded as you looked up at him, pressing his cool metal hand further into your flushed cheek. You were a mess, you were damp all over and red in the face and grouchy beyond belief but you were still a shining sun in the vibrant sky of his blue eyes.
He nodded and quickly moved between your legs, not letting the sight phase him as he readied himself exactly as you instructed. He was going to be calm for you, despite the way the assassin inside him yelled that he was unprepared. He had done plenty of missions with only a sliver of knowledge to go on- he wouldn’t let it stop him now.
“You’ve done great, My sun. The long part is over and now you have just a little bit more,” he said, giving you words of encouragement- just as you instructed. “You're going to do amazing, and I know that she is going to be as perfect as you in every way,” Despite your request for encouragement there was nothing but complete honesty in his tone. He believed every word he said to you and for the first time in this entire pregnancy, you truly thought you could do this too. 
It took only 4 pushes and the cost of feeling in the Soldier’s fingers before the most blessed cries filled the air. Your baby’s sweet chubby face wailed the world’s sorrows as the Soldier held her delicately in his once-bloodied hands. Despite her red face and angry cries, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He would have taken down a hundred agents- a thousand if it meant he got to see her face for the first time again. 
“Моя прекрасная девочка... Несмотря на то, что ты плачешь и кричишь с первых вдохов, ты - самое замечательное существо, которое я когда-либо видел. [My beautiful girl… even though you cry and scream with your very first breaths you are the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen],” he whispered to her writhing little form, quickly cutting and tying the cord before wrapping her snuggly in your jacket. Her cries quieted and her kicking feet slowed to a stop as the soothing rumble of his voice reached her ears- almost as if she recognized it. 
After a few more frustrated grunts, her formerly closed eyes slid open. Radiant blue’s gazed back at him, like a still ocean they seemed to reflect his own perfectly. “У нее мои глаза... Дорогая, у нее мои глаза [She has my eyes… Darling, she has my eyes],” he looked up at you with a joy so innocent you could never have imagined the things he had done in his lifetime. There was another piece of him in the world now, a piece beyond the bloodshed and dark shadows he knew- something clean and new, and perfect.
Your heart swelled beyond measure as you watched the Winter Soldier hold his tiny daughter, his gaze filled with adoration as if he had never known anything less. He was a sight to behold as he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against her little one as she gazed up at him in wonder.
Despite the tiredness you felt deep in your bones you fought hard to stay awake, utterly transfixed by the scene before you. In all your life you couldn’t have imagined today going the way it did, but you couldn’t have asked for a better end to it. 
As you watched the once fearsome Winter Soldier laugh as she gripped his finger with all her might, you could think of nothing to do except pull your phone out and snap a photo- you were going to cherish this photo forever as a memory that would always last.
__________
Bucky Taglist:
@writingmysanity@simpxinnie@mirtaqueen@blackhawkfanatic@mcira@aagn360@nialiuwanderlust@waywardhunter95 @goldylions
thanks to everyone who wanted to be tagged this chapter! If you want to be added to the general Bucky taglist please DM me!
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Sukuna's Wife and Yuuji's Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 2
Part 1
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Several hundred years ago…
You adored autumn more than any other season. Leaves drying, flowers falling to the ground–you felt most alive surrounded by death.
“The leaves remind me of your hair,” you said to him, holding up a red maple leaf. 
“You did not just compare me to a dead leaf.” He watched with crossed arms as you fiddled with the leaf before letting go. 
“It’s a compliment. Though…I guess the maple is prettier,” you teased him. The rubiness of autumn maple was rich and with a charm incomparable to any flower.
He huffed.
You laughed a bit, though your giggles were covered up with coughing.
He strolled closer, wrapping a scarf around your neck, his large hands careful not to pull on your hair. “You love autumn but can barely stand the cold.”
You snuggled closer to his side, placing your ear close to his heart. “Then it’s a good thing I married you.”
***
Present day.
Yuuji was the single most precious person to you. He and old man Wasuke were more your family than the actual people who made you. When the toddler first grasped your finger, tightly and warmly, you swore that nothing else mattered in the world.
As the days passed and that little crybaby grew up into a taller crybaby, your sentiments only got stronger.
No one cared, no one mattered, not even yourself.
If anyone deserved to live a long, happy life, it was your sweet, salt of the earth Yuuji. 
That’s why, after the man called Gojo explained everything: from curses and cursed energy to Yuuji’s fate after eating one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers, you found yourself getting down on both knees and laying your nose on the ground.
“Please,” you begged, “please spare Yuuji. If you need another host, then transfer Sukuna inside me and take me instead, but leave my brother alone.”
All three men were stunned.
Fushiguro reluctantly opened his mouth, “H-hey–”
“Nee-chan, get up.” Yuuji went to grab your shoulders, but he was taken aback when Gojo knelt down in front of you. 
He hummed, before asking, “You sure are a good sister. You realize that you’re basically asking us to kill you?”
You said nothing as you kept your forehead on the ground.
“So that’s your answer.” Gojo crossed his arms and pretended to think.
“Darling.” Sukuna appeared on Yuuji’s cheek. He growled, “Get up. You shouldn’t be prostrating yourself in front of these scum.” 
Gojo snapped his fingers. “Leave it to me, Y/N-chan!”
“Hey!” “Oy!”
Fushiguro and Sukuna chorused, “You’re not really dragging her into this, are you?” “You damn sorcerer, don’t you dare call her so intimately. Only I can–”
“Raise your head, Y/N-chan.” Gojo chuckled. “I’ll take care of you and Yuuji.”
Despite everything, Gojo needed to be sure of Itadori’s potential as a vessel, so he knocked the boy out and did the same to you before you could try to hit him. 
“You’re not really thinking of using that woman as a vessel, right?” Megumi watched as his teacher held you in his arms. “And how do you even plan on transferring Sukuna into her?”
“Tell me, Megumi, do you want Itadori-kun to live?”
“Of course, I do.”
“How about his darling nee-chan?”
“Yes, but–”
“Sukuna cannot be trusted, but if he really does care for this girl then we can use that to our advantage, don’t you agree?”
Megumi couldn’t protest. He didn’t like the idea of getting civilians involved, but if he had to choose between two people and the rest of the world, then the answer was obvious.
The day Old Man Wasuke was hospitalized, you already took a leave of absence from college. Quitting your part time jobs and packing up your belongings took less than a day, and cutting ties with the rest of the world you knew was easy. You had no warmth for your colleagues, or your classmates, or the lonely old house you grew up in. 
Sukuna was surprisingly quiet the whole ride to the high school, but when Satoru Gojo started flirting with you, an eye and mouth would open up on Yuuji’s cheek and demand he stay away from you. 
“How dare you lay your filthy hand on my beloved–”
“You mad? What’re you gonna do from waaaay over there?” (You seriously started to worry about your brother’s safety while being protected by this moron.)
Yuuji was placed next to Megumi Fushiguro (a polite but reserved boy, you noted) while you were put in the girl’s dormitory, which was practically empty. Sukuna was vocal about “being left behind,” but Gojo was adamant about separating the boys from the girls like the rules state. 
Lies, Megumi thought to himself. He just wants to piss off Sukuna. That and it was for your own safety. Though the King of Curses seemed attached to you, he was still a curse, and his attitude could’ve been a mask. 
You were used to being alone so living without a roommate or “friends” in a large building was no big deal. Once you were settled in, you returned to Yuuji’s dormitory, but when you found him unconscious and tied to a chair by talismans, you threw a shoe at Gojo without thinking.
“Why are you so violent?” Gojo complained as your shoe bounced off his infinity. 
“You said you would protect him!”
“Calm down,” Fushiguro said from behind you. “Please, Gojo-sensei may look and act like that–”
“–oi, what do you mean by ‘that’–”
“–but I promise you, he’s doing this for everybody’s benefit.”
“...You’re lying.” 
Fushiguro’s blood froze as you gazed into his eyes. He has never felt such intense blood lust from a single human before.
“You’re not doing this for my baby’s sake… you’re lying… you’re tricking us…” Your voice dripped with ice, your stare glazed over. 
Fushiguro was speechless. Something told him you weren’t talking about just Yuuji right now. 
“Give him back to me.” You gripped Fushiguro’s arms. “GIVE MY CHILD BACK!”
Fushiguro was at a loss, though your nails dug into him, he couldn’t bring himself to summon his familiars or push you away. You were a bit violent, but he saw Tsumiki in you. 
Wait, did she just say child?
@laurcad123 @aidanstan @deepinballs
Part 3
A/N:
I'm getting way too lazy to write full fledged prose.
Anyway, I love soft sukuna.
Also, med school is murder T.T
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bloodynereid · 2 months
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Navy Blue Ink Part 2
part 1
pairing: major john 'bucky' egan x fem! reader
tw: swearing, kissing, fluff, mentions of war and death, historical/military inaccuracies, yh not much else it's pretty sweet
description: john makes it back home to his angel.
a/n: first off, i wanted to say thank you for how nice and incredible this fandom has been and the response to the first part just made me heart burst. i hope this still does john justice and that you enjoy this little reunion fic. once again this is solely based on the show's characters and not the real people!
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You stood anxiously at the side of the airfield. A letter clutched in your left hand and a leash in your right. Ghost nudged his head against your pant covered leg, making you look down at your companion.
“I’m alright, boy. Just a bit nervous.” He barked in response and an easy smile fell on your face. After the announcement that war had ended a heavy weight that had been placed on your shoulders seemed to disappear. You had beat those German bastards and now your best friend was coming home.
It was a few weeks before the end of the war that a letter arrived for you. Its date was a few days old but a feeling of euphoria washed through your body when you noticed John’s spiky handwriting.
He was alive.
Dear Y/N,
I don’t think you understand how happy I was to hear from you. I do not know if this letter will reach you or if you will ever read it but I needed to write this. I’m also sorry for not writing for so long and for not getting back to you.
I am alive, somehow. I made it out of a POW camp and I’m back at base. I can’t write about the specifics yet but I needed you to know that I miss you terribly. You were the one light while I was there. You gave me hope when everything was starting to dull to gray, and I don’t know if I can ever repay you.
I don’t know when I’ll be back but you should know that I will be back. God I miss you. I wrote that already didn’t I?
Buck’s fine. A little scraped up, but we all are. He can’t wait to meet you, says I talk too much about you that he basically knows you already. I hope to see you soon again, angel. You better introduce me to the love of your life too, I might need to officiate the wedding… or maybe Ghost needs a best man huh?
Yours,
John Egan
That letter restored a feeling of hope that encompassed your entire body. He was alive. John Egan was alive.
You held onto that feeling for a long while. Keeping the letter tucked into the pocket of your jacket so you could carress the paper when everything was feeling like too much. Until that fateful day when a short telegram was handed to you at work. It was filled with a few words that made your heart beat even faster than you thought it could.
Coming soon. Meet. Airfield. 16.00
So there you stood, at the airfield waiting for your best friend to come back, for the love of your life to come back (sorry Ghost).
You scratched behind Ghost’s ear when a distant noise made you perk up. An airplane. Squinting in the late afternoon soon a distinct shape appeared in the sky. He surely had to be on that plane.
Checking your watch confirmed it, it was 16:05 and he was right on time. Albeit a little late but that was John alright.
You watched with nervous excitement as the plane touched down and stopped near the tower. A group of families were all standing beside you, anxiously awaiting a glimpse of the people they had missed beyond belief.
Standing and waiting as everyone got to hug their loved ones was a special kind of torture. That was until you saw a glimpse of those beautiful brown curls and the face that you had missed so dearly.
“John? John!” The face turned towards you and a delighted grin overtook your face as you started to run towards him, with Ghost right on your heels.
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John was beyond tired. The past few weeks had been a time for recovery and yet he didn’t feel like himself quite yet. Who knew if he would ever feel like that again? The plane ride back made him feel like a whole other set of nerves had taken control of his body.
He was about to see his girl, his angel and he had no idea what he would do, or rather if he could control his reaction to her. The photograph she first sent to him in those precious letters was carefully tucked into his jacket pocket and he was itching to get it out and just look at her once again.
Maybe she wasn’t even waiting for him. Maybe she hadn’t gotten his telegram. The one he quickly had someone send out for him after he had said his goodbyes to Buck in Florida. God what if she was busy and he didn’t have her address to find her and-
His barrage of thoughts was cut off when he felt the plane hit the runway. Fuck, it’s time. Once he was given the all clear, he quickly gathered his full belongings and started to set out of the plane.
John felt the familiar smell of Wisconsin fill his nose. Home. It smelt like home. The airfield was lit in the glow of the sun and John felt alright for the first time in a while. He was safe.
“John? John!” The sweet sound of a voice so familiar was calling to him. Just as he turned John felt arms encase him and you were suddenly all around him.
He let himself just feel for a few moments before he dropped his bags and hugged you right back just as strongly. What he wouldn’t do to stay in your arms for the rest of his life. To feel your warmth surrounding him and never letting him go.
“Angel? God, I think I might be in heaven.” John whispered into your ear, making a tearful laugh come from your mouth as you let your arms drop from around him. Finally getting a proper look at your Bucky.
“Heaven? Nah, you’re in good old Wisconsin, Bucky.”
“I think that’s my version of heaven right now, darling.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I missed you John.” You whispered as you looked at him. You noticed how he had changed, how he had hardened but he was still the man you fell in love with, even if he didn’t know it.
“I guarantee that I missed you more.”
“Oh really?” John hummed back in agreement as he also took his time to take you in. Take in the little changes in your face, the way your eyes shined as you looked at him and the smile on your face. The most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
“I really love you.” John whispered, pouring his entire being, his entire soul into those words. Your eyes widened, this felt different from all those times when he had uttered it drunk into your ears as kids. This felt like something more. Something you had waited to hear for far too long.
John felt something in him shatter as he watched different emotions flash over your face. He made a mistake. He should have stayed quiet and just hugged you. Just been there for you.
“I love you too, John Egan. I love you more than you can imagine.” 
That thing that shattered within John seemed to remake itself. Like a wound stitching itself back together. He stepped impossibly closer to you and brushed his lips hesitantly over yours, warmth blooming in both of your chests as the hesitant pressure became more stronger and more assured.
What you both didn’t account for was the loud bark that came from behind you. The two of you broke apart and John looked over to Ghost with a chuckle. The damn dog he wished to be all those months ago was standing before him looking mighty pleased with himself.
“So the famous love of your life?”
“Shut up, John. You know there is only one man worthy of that title.”
“And who would that be?”
“You, you stupid, beautiful man.”
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and... that's the end wow. i'll probably write some more stuff for mota so look out for that <3
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pinkanonwrites · 3 months
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I just love reading ur interpretations of cybertronian culture and how cybertronians and humans interact with each other sm.. I can't get enough.
For bots dating/getting intimate with humans for the first time (or have never, but think abt it)) what do you think are some of the things that would go thru their mind? What abt goes thru a humans mind? Somethings they mind discuss/compare beforehand? Plz gimme everything you think of in ur brain I crave.
It's probably a little obvious, but the glaring thoughts of "I could crush you to death/You could crush me to death." Are basically impossible to avoid from either side, so that's usually going to be the first thing to come up. How are we going to go about this without any physical or mental trauma? The larger the bot the more daunting this conversation becomes, but humans are nothing if not A: Creative and B: Adaptive.
I also think humans are way more flexible than the average bot. Skinny little bots like speedsters and seekers are on the more flexible side, but a boxy bot like Soundwave or Ratchet is gonna have his optics bugging out of his helm when he sees how easy it is for some humans to fold and contort themselves to make it work. (Let Ratchet push your legs all the way back until the tops of your thighs are pressed to your chest and he may just blow a gasket.)
On the humans side, I'm sure a glaring concern is whether or not the various fluids and lubricants that the bots produce are going to be skin-safe. Pure Energon is INCREDIBLY dangerous for humans to consume or be in extended contact with, so I can see any human/Cybertronian relationships having to, at last at some point, consult with their GP to find out if it's safe to smash.
And I just realized all my previous answers were about intimacy and I didn't even cover my favorite headcanon for Cybertronian courting! I think, just like humans, gift-giving can be a very big part of courting depending on the bot. But rather than give flowers, since there's no organic life on Cybertron itself, it's a lot more common for a bot to gift one or several gemstones or crystals in lieu of a bouquet. They're like penguins: easily wooed by a pretty rock.~
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blue-slxt · 10 months
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Our Song Cord Masterlist
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Pairing: AgedUp!Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader
Word Count: 30.6k (completed)
Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Arranged Marriage, Cheating? (depends on how you look at it), Making Out, Nipple Play, Fingering, Oral (M and F receiving), Heat Cycle, Masturbation, Smut, P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Knotting, Reader Making Poor Life Decisions, Kiri Being the Best, Angst, Misunderstandings, Mentions of Pregnancy, Angst, Labor, Birth, Mentions of Death, Fluff, Soft Domestic Neteyam, Mentions of Breeding
Summary: There was no one in the clan as close as you and Neteyam. You had been joined at the hip practically since birth. So it shocks everyone when it's announced that Neteyam is intended to mate with someone else. You're happy for him, but things start to get complicated when you both decide to help each other learn how to please your future mates.
A/N: This is my first time making a series masterlist like this so I'm still kinda finding my footing with the formatting so go easy on me. But the inspiration for this fic came purely out of the blue and hit me like a truck. I couldn't stop thinking about it so here it is. The title "Our Song Cord" is supposed to be a play on "Our Song" by Taylor Swift. In my mind, song cords are like a physical playlist of somebody's life so basically every chapter will be titled after a song or a line from a song so that the whole story is like a playlist of their story. I hope that makes sense lol. Nobody does this kind of thing better than @teyamsatan though. (She's a queen and you should definitely be checking out her work 👀) And all credit for the adult Neteyam pic goes to @cinetrix (Another amazing creator)
Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!
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Chapter 1: Just an Ordinary Day
Chapter 2: Can't Help Falling
Chapter 3: What About The Way We Kiss The Same?
Chapter 4: Nobody Gets Out of Love Alive
Chapter 5: If The World Was Ending, You’d Come Over, Right?
Chapter 6: Like I've Never Seen The Sky Before
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writeforfandoms · 5 months
Text
Run Wild 4
Find the series masterlist
I apologize for the long wait on this one - between life stuff and the chapter fighting me, it's been longer than I intended. This is a nice long chapter though to help make up for it.
Things are going well and you're settling into the pack... and then the three of you get sent on a survival training refresher. Just the three of you. Alone in the woods. For three days. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
Warnings: Swearing, animal death (unspecified fish and birds), yearning, shifter behaviors, pack behaviors, allusions to sex and intimacy, brief mention of blood.
Word count: 3.6k
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Horangi healed just fine from the gunshot. Of course he did. It didn’t even take long - less than a week. König did, in fact, fuss over him, which you got to witness a couple times. It was pretty funny, at least from the outside. 
But you did make a mental note not to get injured. You didn’t need someone fussing over you that way. 
You’d spent the morning and part of the afternoon doing other tasks, since you didn’t actually get to spend all your time with your pack. Which was fine. You’d been without a pack for a long time, you didn’t need one to function. 
But even so, once you were dismissed, you headed back to the pack room. You wanted to see if they were around, maybe pester Horangi into some pool time now that he was allowed to shift again. 
You paused outside the door. Something was different. Head tilted, you listened for anything unusual, but all was quiet, but for a very faint rumble. 
You poked just your head around the door. 
Horangi and König were on the bigass couch (a LoveSac, König had told you once), neither of them facing the door. You noted Horangi’s missing sunglasses first. Then the flash of König’s hair, auburn longer than you would have expected. 
Then the smell hit you. Even with the window open, it was easy for you to smell that they’d been intimate. 
You backed off immediately, unwilling to disturb whatever peaceful bubble the two had. 
You weren’t quite embarrassed - you hadn’t caught them in the middle of it, at least. And with your sense of smell, this was far from the first time you’d smelled this on someone. Friends. People you knew. 
(Looking back on it, you continued to be a little amazed you survived basic without anyone knowing you were a shifter.)
No, the most confusing part was that you weren’t vaguely grossed out. Far from it, really.
You wanted to investigate, nose around, see how this changed their normal scents. 
Nope. Nope nope nope. Not happening. You shook your head, hard, trying to knock the thoughts out too. 
You were absolutely not attracted to your two packmates. Nope. Not happening. 
You threw yourself at the obstacle course for a good hour, working to beat your record. It was a good distraction - you couldn’t just rely on muscle memory, you had to pay attention. 
It wasn’t until you had sprawled out on the ground, panting, trying to get your breath back enough to go shower, that anyone bothered you. 
“Have fun?” 
The semi-sarcastic question made you lift your head to look at Horangi, the alpha standing off to the side. His sunglasses were back on, was the first thing you noticed. 
“What’s up?” You asked instead of answering his question. You pushed yourself up to sitting, not quite willing to lay prone in front of him. Not after what you’d almost walked in on earlier. 
“We’ve got a refresher on wilderness survival,” Horangi drawled, voice flat. But he didn’t smell angry. Hm. “The three of us.”
Oh. Oh boy. Three or so days living in the wilderness with the two of them. 
This was definitely going to go wrong, somehow. 
“When are we leaving?” You’d have to pack up a few things. Not a lot, you usually weren’t allowed a lot, but still. 
“Tomorrow morning, 0800.” 
“Got it.” You pushed up to your feet, absently brushing dirt off yourself. “See you in the morning, sir.” 
Horangi nodded once. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel his gaze on you, even as you turned away and headed inside. 
You resisted the urge to look back at him. 
Wilderness survival was honestly not hard. It wasn’t something you hated, either. You had done something similar with your dad many times.
Although when you’d done it with him, you’d both been shifted. It was a little easier to find natural shelter as a mink than as a human. 
This time, you had your two packmates with you, one on either side. The three of you got dropped in the middle of nowhere in a forest with a map, some basic supplies, and an exfil location. 
The first stretch of the hike was lovely. The weather was nice (for once), the sounds of the forest soothing, and even though you were walking with giants neither of them pushed the pace too hard. 
The sun was high in the sky by the time Horangi paused, consulting the map. You stayed back a bit, watching as König peered over the top of the alpha’s head at the map. 
You tipped your head back, enjoying the sunshine, the birds singing, the faint trickle of water…
Wait. Water?
Focused now, you turned a slow circle, trying to pinpoint where you heard the water coming from. You paused facing slightly away from Horangi and König. 
“I hear water,” you told the two of them, glancing over only to find them already watching you. You blinked, startled, and shifted your weight. 
“Lead on, then.” Horangi motioned you forward with a lazy wave of one hand. 
You eyed him for a moment, uncertain if he was being sincere or not. But he didn’t move, so you did. 
It was easy, picking a path through the forest. No major terrain changes, no gunfire to dodge. Just the peaceful noises around you… and your two packmates behind you. They were both quiet, impressively so considering how big they were (König moreso), but you could track them easily by sound alone, if you needed to. 
The sound of water grew louder until you paused at a stream. It wasn’t large, you could jump it if you wanted, but it was moving fast and clear. A good source of water was an excellent start. 
“This should empty into a lake,” Horangi said from behind you. “See if you can find it.”
You grinned over your shoulder at him and started walking parallel to the stream, moving a little faster with the lure of a lake. The light increased in intensity ahead of you, and you slowed right at the edge of the trees. 
The lake spread out in front of you, sunlight sparkling off the water. It was decent-sized, and looked deep. There were probably fish in there, and for a moment you longed to shuck your gear and jump in. 
It had been a long time since you’d gone fishing the proper way.
Reluctantly, you turned your back on the water to trot back to the other two. 
“Found the lake,” you told them, grinning. “It’s not far.”
Horangi nodded. “We’ll set up for the day there,” he agreed, nodding you forward again. 
Which meant fishing. Elated, you practically bounced back to the lake, ignoring the two of them behind you, both laughing. 
It didn’t take long to find a good camping spot, the two of them more than capable of setting up a temporary shelter for the three of you. (And it was for the three of you - when you mentioned finding a spot nearby, Horangi put his foot down and said it was better to stay together. You didn’t object. Pack cuddles sounded really nice.) 
You and König gathered tinder while the light was good, setting up a spot for a fire later. This part you really needed no help with - you’d done this enough. You had extra cotton balls and a fire starter in your bag for a reason, after all. 
“Dinner?” König asked, slanting a look at you that you could tell was amused, even with the hood still in the way.
You perked up, trying not to seem too desperate. “I could fish?” 
Horangi looked at you for a moment before he nodded once. You got the feeling he was amused, despite not being able to see his expression. 
You resisted the urge to buzz happily, instead trotting down closer to the lake. It took moments to pile your boots to one side, tossing your outer layers next to them, before you shifted and wriggled out of the rest of your clothes. 
The first dip into the water was perfect - a little cool (although your fur helped insulate you), clear, and beautiful. You spent a minute darting around, half searching for fish and half having fun. 
It had been far too long since you’d let yourself have fun like this. 
It didn’t take long to find fish, and you spent a few moments just watching them. The bigger fish were down near the bottom of the lake, which wasn’t too far, really. 
Three would probably do the job to feed you all. 
The first fish was the hardest. You had to remember how to grab it right to hang on and drag it out of the water. The fish, of course, didn’t make it easy. But you succeeded, even though the fish was bigger than you. 
You left it on the shore, far enough away from the water that it (probably) couldn’t flap itself back in, and dove back in to get the next fish. 
Except when you dragged this one up the shore, Horangi was handling the first fish, cleaning and prepping it. And it looked… not big in his hands. 
Hm. Maybe three wouldn’t be enough. 
“Leave it there,” Horangi said, gaze flitting to you. He’d removed his sunglasses at some point, letting you feel the full weight of his gaze.
You chittered at him, leaving the fish and diving back into the water.
But you didn’t stop at three fish. You caught two more, dragging the fifth fish up to Horangi before trotting away to shake yourself off at a polite distance. 
When you shifted back, you caught König looking at you from his spot by the fire. It was difficult to tell, between the distance and the fact that you were shoving yourself back into your clothes as fast as possible, but this look was… different. 
There was something different, anyway. Hell if you could pinpoint what. 
“Well done,” Horangi praised quietly, gaze flicking up to you before he picked up all the fish, which he’d cleaned. 
You fought down the urge to buzz. It didn’t translate as well when you were human, and it was weird. But you did wiggle, just a little, as you jogged after him to the fire to help cook. 
Sitting with the two of them while dinner cooked was… nice. Odd, but nice. They were both quiet by nature, which you didn’t mind. König kept giving you little looks, which you couldn’t decipher. But he didn’t say anything, so you figured it was just a him thing and left it alone. 
Horangi tested the first fish and deemed it edible, nodding to you. You picked one for yourself and settled in to eat, humming a little. This was nice. This was the kind of nice you could get used to.
Even though you shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be like this once the three of you finished this training. It would be back to the norm - eating by yourself in the mess, spending time with them in the pack room when you weren’t on duty. 
You shoved the thought down with your next bite of fish, swallowing hard. Focus on being hungry. That was safer. But you ate a little slower than the other two. They needed the extra fish. 
“Here.” König tore off a chunk of his second fish, putting it on your plate. 
“But–” You looked at him, eyes wide. 
Horangi clicked his tongue, and a second piece of fish got deposited on your plate. “Eat,” he ordered you. “We have plenty.”
A little chagrined and a little confused, you worked on the additional pieces. And. Okay. You knew they hadn’t meant it this way.
But they’d put their food on your plate. 
And your instincts were screaming, just a little. 
The rest of the night was quiet. König took your plates to wash, and you ended up lounging on your back by the fire, looking up at the stars twinkling through the treetops. 
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”
You frowned. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud. But… nothing catastrophic happened. Your packmates were both quiet, at least until Horangi sprawled out next to you. 
“Oh?” It was a gentle prod, but it was very much a prod. 
You pursed your lips, considering how to answer for a few moments. Then you sighed softly. “My parents used to take me out places like this. Wasn’t far off from what we’re doing, really.” 
Horangi chuffed softly. It sounded odd coming from a human throat but you still recognized it for acceptance. “Why did they stop?”
Your heart ached, and you shoved up to your feet. The stars held no appeal for you now. “That’s a story for another night.” You checked on the tarp for your shelter overnight, pushing your pack into a corner where it would keep dry. There wasn’t much else to do, really. 
So you shoved yourself into the corner next to your pack, curling up. That was as clear an indication that you weren’t going to talk as you could do. 
You didn’t manage to fall asleep until you felt Horangi and König settle down near you. 
You woke slowly, warmer than you'd expected to be. It got cold overnight out here, after all. But you weren't cold at all. 
A little confused, you patted around. Maybe one of them had given you an extra blanket? 
Your fingers met fur, warm and coarse. Hm. That was different. And nice. Nice and warm. 
Wait. Fur? 
Your eyes flew open and your breathing halted. You could see only part of an enormous bear curled around you and Horangi both. Horangi had his back to you, shoulders moving steadily with his breathing. 
Oh. Oh this was bad. First they put food on your plate, now this? Pack cuddles with one of them shifted, and the alpha trusting you with his back? 
Oh no. No no no. Nope. This was going to end so badly for you. 
You just needed to shove your feelings into a little box and stuff it away somewhere. That would work. You’d be fine. No problem. 
You tried to ease away from the two, only for König to rumble at you. The bear lifted his head to look at you, grumbling. 
“Hush,” you whispered, patting his fur. “Be right back.” 
He huffed at you but settled down again. This time he didn’t protest when you shuffled away, careful not to disturb Horangi. 
You moved a safe distance away before you sat, putting your head down in your hands. These two really needed to stop giving you mixed signals like this. 
Although, when you really thought about it… were they even mixed signals at this point? Or just signals you didn’t want to think about? 
You made a face at yourself and breathed in deep. Two more days of this and then it would be back to base. Back to business as usual. 
You could manage two more days.
One more deep breath, and you headed back to camp, the low light barely a problem for you. Sunlight was just peeking through the trees, the rest of the forest just waking up. 
Horangi was up when you got back to camp, and he simply nodded to you before breaking down camp. By the time the three of you were done and ready to move on, it was like you’d never been there at all. 
Horangi took the lead again, and you followed him while König took the rear. 
You were surprised again at how easy this was. The quiet between the three of you never felt strained. You never doubted that Horangi knew where you were going. König never snuck up behind you enough to spook you. 
If you wanted to be real honest with yourself… this was even better than camping with your parents had ever been. 
And not just because you were an adult and didn’t need to be watched all the time. 
These two were rapidly slipping under your skin, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. 
Especially when you all stopped to set up camp again and Horangi said he’d hunt for the three of you. König settled next to you in front of the fire, his knee knocking into yours. 
“You know much of the plant life here?” 
You blinked at the out of the blue question and shrugged. “Not really,” you admitted. “If I don’t recognize it, I don’t touch it.” 
“Good.” König nudged you with his knee again. “Come with me.”
Confused but not quite willing to push, you stood and followed him away from the fire. He didn’t take you far, though, instead crouching next to a tree to show you a plant. And then another. And another.
Before you knew it, you were side by side with him, peering over plants and doing your best to remember which ones were which. 
It was surprisingly fun, actually. You’d never given plants this much thought, but with König? It was fun. 
Hopefully he wouldn’t quiz you, though. 
“Here.” König pointed to a berry bush. “Gather these.”
You started picking berries, doing your best to avoid the thorns. König moved away, though you could still see him in your peripheral vision as he checked on the fire and brought over a dish for you to set the berries on. 
“How’d you learn all this?” you asked, half-distracted, trying to reach a juicy looking berry without having your hands cut to ribbons. 
König was silent for a few moments, shifting his weight next to you. “I learned as a boy,” he settled on. You had a feeling there was more to it than that, but you certainly weren’t going to push. 
“What do you think Horangi is bringing back?” 
König snorted, shoulders relaxing again. “Birds,” he said softly. “He likes birds.” 
You filed that little piece of information away, just in case. “Good to know.” You made a face when a thorn caught the tip of your finger, blood beading up against your skin. 
König clucked softly, catching your hand in one of his before you could pull away. “Careful,” he rumbled, low and soothing. 
“I’m fine,” you dismissed, trying to tug your hand back. But König ignored you, lifting your hand to look at the cut himself more closely. 
“No more injuries,” he said, voice soft even as he met your gaze. “Ja?” 
“Okay,” you agreed, a little breathless.
His thumb smeared over the tiny cut, cleaning away your blood. He blinked and looked down between you, the vice around your chest relaxing somewhat. 
“Thanks.” You tried to keep your voice dry, to show you hadn’t really thought his fuss necessary. But you were just a little too breathy to make it stick. 
He hummed softly, a pleased rumbly little noise. But he didn’t move away, keeping hold of your hand. 
Until a twig snapped behind you. Then he leaned back a little, gaze lifting over your head to look. 
“Done already?” König stood, still holding your hand and pulling you up to your feet as well. You huffed at him. 
“Still have to clean them.” Horangi held up two birds. You had no idea what they actually were, but they were decent sized, and one of them was colorful. Probably the male. 
“I’ll help,” you volunteered, gently tugging your hand away from König. It had been a while since you’d had to clean and prep a bird, but you didn’t remember it being that hard.
You were wrong. It sucked. Mainly because plucking the damn things was awful. 
Horangi chuffed in amusement every time he caught you making faces at your assigned bird. Which was often. But he didn’t actually make fun of you, which was good. 
Dinner was quiet, though again not the uncomfortable kind of quiet. Just quiet. It was weird… but nice. 
You were getting entirely too comfortable with these two. Part of you insisted that was only right - they were pack, and you should be comfortable with pack. The rest of you screeched about protecting yourself first and that pack did not automatically mean trustworthy. 
Your head was a bit of a mess. 
This time, you didn’t run off to bed before them, and ended up between the two. Nobody was touching (that you could see or feel), but they’d still put you in the middle. Intentionally. With the sort of planned grace that came from working together often. 
It was odd. Kind of nice. Definitely confusing. 
You resolutely shoved it out of your mind for now, letting the steady breathing on both sides of you lull you to sleep. 
You woke again to warmth, and resisted the urge to cuddle back into fur. Instead you opened your eyes, breathing slowly, taking a few moments to orient yourself. 
Horangi blinked slowly at you, head turned towards you even as he reclined against König’s mass. “Finally awake?”
You blinked, feeling a little slow still, and warmed. “Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze. 
He huffed, tucking one finger under your chin to pull your head back up. “No apologies,” he murmured, low and warm. “You were cute all cuddled up.”
You warmed further, unable to duck your head because of his grip on you, and settled for dropping your gaze to the space between the two of you. 
Apparently deciding to have mercy, Horangi tapped his thumb twice against you chin before he released you, sitting up. “Let’s break down camp,” he ordered. “Get to exfil early.” 
You nodded wordlessly, rolling to your feet to assist with clean up. 
But the phantom feel of his finger under your chin, his thumb against your skin, didn’t leave you all day.
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Note
Absolutely loved your Lucifer x Son reader!! Can we get a part 2? Im eager to see how Charlie and the gang may react!
Hello Anon! Here’s my take on what would’ve happened in the aftermath. As requested. Wasn’t really planning on making more content relating to this Au, but here we are! This is the last one, I hope. The gang haven’t met (Name) so they won’t be included in this.
Enjoy (。•̀ᴗ-)✧
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Lucifer was basically contemplating every bad decision he's ever made in his life as he stares at the face of his unconscious son.
He barely managed to save (Name)’s wing by reattaching it, but it'll take a while before it's usable again.
Coat and hat off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair disheveled from running his fingers through it in his moment of stress.
Eyes rimmed red from crying, cheeks stained with tears as he rubbed his eyes to get rid of the heavy feeling you usually get from crying so much.
He practically started having a mental breakdown the moment he knew that (Name)’s life wasn’t in any immediate danger. It wasn’t until a few minutes ago that he finally calmed down.
Sitting on a chair next to his son's bed, Lucifer sighs as he puts his face in his hands. He hasn't told Charlie yet. He doesn't really know how he should go about explaining what happened at the palace without freaking her out.
Wounds inflicted by angelic steel take longer to heal. He doesn’t know how long it would take for (Name) to wake up. It’s been about 3 hours since the attack, and he’s been restless ever since.
Still no sign of movement from (Name) as he lays motionless on his bed. The only way Lucifer could tell that he’s even still alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Running his fingers through his hair as he stood up from his chair, reaching for his phone in his pocket, he hesitated to call Charlie. He didn’t know how to disclose the situation to her. There’s no easy way of doing this. I mean- how do you go about telling your child that her brother could possibly end up in a coma after being attacked by bloodthirsty psycho angels! That’s ridiculous! Everything about this is ridiculous! He’s ridiculous! He’s literally the King of Hell! He should’ve done more to ensure the protection of his son! If he just had the time to construct a barrier around his home then maybe this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. If he hadn’t been in a hurry to go save Charlie, he would’ve given it more thought. The fact that (Name) would be left defenseless all by himself with no one to help him. It’s basically a miracle that he even managed to survive all by himself. What with his inexperience in life or death fights. What kind of father would he be if he can’t even protect his children from harm! An incompetent one, he thinks.
His hands shake as he grips his phone. Taking a deep breath, he presses on Charlie’s contact and hopes that everything goes well.
“Dad! Thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been trying to call you ever since you left in a hurry earlier- Is everything alright?” Just hearing Charlie’s voice over the phone makes him want to cry again.
He swallows the lump in his throat, “I-I’m okay, sweetie! It’s just- uhh,” just say it dammit! That’s her brother! She needs to know! “It’s (Name). He- he’s not doing good at the moment.” He cringes at his attempt.
“What?! Is he okay?! What happened?”
“He-,” his throat felt dry as he swallowed, “the palace was attacked.”
“WHAT?! Is (Name) okay?!” Her panicked voice could be heard over the phone. He tried to breathe properly to not breakout into another panic attack. “Dad?! Why aren’t you saying anything?!! You’re scaring me!”
“He’s-,” he winces at the break in his voice before clearing his throat, “He’s okay now! I managed to get here on time before he-,” his voice cracked again as tears wells up in his eyes.
The other side of the line goes silent for a bit. Charlie most definitely heard his pathetic attempt at trying to compose himself.
He clears his throat again, “His wounds are healing. But I don’t know when he’ll wake up.” He settled with. His voice raspy from crying.
On the other side of the line, Vaggie was standing next to Charlie, comforting her as she processes the information she just received. It was just them two in the lobby. Everybody else was either out or resting in their new rooms.
“Do you need me to come over, Dad?” Charlie asks.
“No need for that, apple pie- I’ll stay here until he recovers. You need to stay at your hotel. I can handle it. Promise.”
“Okay,” she swallows, forcing back her tears, “Call me if you need to. Okay, Dad?”
“Of course. Goodbye, sweetie.”
“Bye-,” he hangs up.
“Everything okay, babe?” Asks Vaggie, “You seem pretty worried.”
“Worried? Me? Pshh- no! Not at all! I mean- it’s not like the angels attacked my Dad’s castle and put my brother in a coma!-,” Charlie rambles.
“What?!” Vaggie yells in shock, “Is he okay?”
“Dad said that he’s okay. (Name)’s just resting-,” Charlie starts pulling at her hair. “Why would they attack him! He didn’t have anything to do with any of this!”
Vaggie doesn’t say anything. She just takes Charlie by the hand and takes her to their room as Charlie continues to worry about her brother. Which is valid cuz like- (Name)’s her brother-
When they reach their room, Vaggie takes Charlie by the hand and leads to bed.
“I’m sure he’ll be okay. He’s got your father’s blood flowing through his veins, no? He’ll wake up before you know it- Trust me.”
Charlie sniffles, “You really think so?”
Vaggie nods, “I know so. Now- why don’t we rest and cuddle. We’ve had a long day. I think we deserve some rest, don’t you think?”
Vaggie then helps Charlie change into pajamas as they both lay in each other’s arms in bed.
“Feeling better?” Vaggie asks.
Charlie nods, “I just hope he wakes up soon.” As they both continue cuddling in bed.
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Imma be honest y’all. This isn’t my best work. Didn’t come out as well as I’d hoped. Kinda lost motivation half way through. Not sure if you can tell. But anyway! Here’s how I thought it would go. Hope y’all like it! Stay healthy and keep hydrated! ∠(ᐛ 」∠)
Bye babes!
-DebonairPrince
Help support your favorite author by buying them a ko-fi!
91 notes · View notes
betryl · 7 months
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Along with Camilla's and Bunny's, another pov I would love to see is Charles'. He had such a tragic development throughout the book, but we get to know very little about what he actually went through, and it makes it easy to put all the blame on him – of course, he was an abuser and that doesn't change, but it would still be so interesting to actually get his own opinion, without Henry, Camilla or Francis speaking on his behalf. Not to justify him, but just to see things the way he did and get yet another interpretation of the whole story.
We'd get to know what his and Camilla's relationship was actually like – and it would probably look even worse from his perspective. His encounters with Francis, too. He puts the blame on Charles taking advantage of him, even though they were probably both taking advantage of each other in some ways – but we never got to hear how Charles felt about the situation.
We'd get to see him slowly lose his mind to alcohol, and it would probably be even more subtle than how it felt from Richard's pov, making it even the more chilling. Him getting progressively more depressed, more irritable, more violent (and therefore, I believe, more guilty about his own behavior too), to the point of being basically drunk all the time, and feeling like a totally different person to how he was at the beginning.
And then we'd get to see him get more and more paranoid about Henry. I would have loved to see more of their dynamic, because while I've seen some people reducing it to a love triangle with Camilla (?), it wasn't just that, and Charles had quite a few valid reasons to hate him. Henry pulled Charles into the whole mess basically against his will – he was the only one who, more than once, tried convincing the others the murder was a bad idea, and no one listened to him and listened to Henry instead. He was depressed for Bunny's death. He got coerced by Henry to get involved with the police too, having to bear the weight of everyone possibly ending up in jail if he did something wrong.
He realized that all of this was mostly Henry's fault, but then the situation with Camilla came along, and Charles suddenly understood he had just become the next target Henry might have wanted to get rid of – and he even tried to. He had every right being scared of him, but the others barely even believed him. So the paranoia turned into genuine fear for his life, until he eventually snapped, and we know what happened next.
All of this was hidden behind Richard's pov, which definitely made it difficult to understand his actions or how he was feeling. As much as I don't like him as a person, he really grew on me and genuinely became one of my favorite characters. And seeing it all from his perspective would be terrifying.
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major-wren · 8 months
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I love the "ARK siblings" concept and I love cute lighthearted fanart of them being siblings but I feel like a lot of people forget that they literally canonically share a soul and that her death is, in my opinion, I think supposed to represent a part of one's self dying and that they're supposed to be, symbolically, a lot more than siblings.
I always saw Shadow's story as a symbolic way to express the way your inner child and innocence is sacrificed in order to survive complex childhood trauma. Maria's color scheme and the way she's written is, I think, clear to all of us how she's meant to represent innocence and youth. I mean, she doesn't really function very well as a stand-alone character or realistic depiction of a child, shes always been more of an.. idea.
I'm not sure if it was purposeful, but the moon's "Maria" are craters that formed from the moon repeatedly taking the hits of asteroids at it's points of gravity. These points of gravity attract asteroids and draws then away from the Earth. The craters are mostly on the side of the moon we see, so the dark side of the moon, or "shadowed" side is better protected because of that. I feel like this is an extension of Shadow and Maria's symbolism. She took the bullet for him, protecting him, the same way Maria takes the comets, and the same way your brain will sacrifice your inner child (or freeze/rush your mental development) in order to survive intense childhood abuse. I know it all sounds extreme lmao but at the end of the day characters and storytelling are used to explore and express hard emotions and I don't think this randomly tragic character sprung out of nowhere for the Sonic games, which, before that point, always had very lighthearted positive characters (except for the echidna extinction in the game right before Shadow's). Having a character that was easy to approach, yet could represent scarier concepts as a child-friendly stand-in, felt like a very important tool to me growing up. I just hope that that writing can be appreciated in his character, with an understanding of how messy production can be and how a character can get pulled between many different people and ideas. I do think this symbolism was intentional to some degree, especially when it gets to the blatant soul-sharing and how characters insist that Shadow can't be a weapon because Maria's soul (his inner child and true morals despite the damage done to him) makes him "good hearted."
There's other things that uphold this symbolism of Maria dying as representing his inner child being killed, like the rushed/suspended mental development in the face of trauma being illustrated by the fact that Shadow was forced into a dormant cyro slumber right after Maria's death, symbolizing the way he had to basically skip childhood or hit pause on development until he could escape the people controlling him. Much like how victims will have to pause everything and go on autopilot with only a goal of survival until they can escape their situation; only after they feel safe can they begin growing as a person and find their identity. In the Japanese language, there are different types of pronouns people can refer to themselves with instead of just "I" or "myself." In the Japanese dub of SA2, Shadow's creator said in an interview that he had been very insistent on Shadow using the pronouns reserved for young boys, despite Shadow's menacing villain role in the game, because he felt it was important to show Shadow's purity and his lack of experience in life so far. That "live and learn" theme.
And then in his self titled game, Shadow is searching for a way to reconnect with his past and to find the truth about this Maria person he keeps seeing in flashbacks, but in the end he throws away her picture and accepts himself as he is now, forever changed and stained by his past, but more than just a product of his situation. He is "all of him," including the negative impact he never asked for, and including the parts of himself he lost, but also the parts of himself he chose to become. Your environment and childhood shapes you even if you didn't want it to, but that doesnt mean you cant have control in your identity and recover your inherent nature once you've escaped the negative influence (nature vs nurture theme). He will never be the person he used to be, or could have been, (represented by Maria as a pure and untouched youth), but he still has a say in what that grows into.
I just feel like a lot of Shadow's identity issues and inner conflict stem from this whole soul sharing situation with Maria and that his character ends up inevitably being misunderstood if you water them down to just siblings. Especially considering that it was never answered if Shadow actually even ever met Maria or if they're just memories planted by Gerald or caused by the shared soul. In Sonic Battle, it's also said in Gerald's diary that not only do Maria and Shadow share identical souls, but that Gerald literally modeled Shadow after Maria out of his love for her. I'm not sure to what degree or in what ways, but Shadow is supposed to share purposeful similarities with Maria, likely through the content of her character and her morals. That's what makes them so much deeper than just psuedo siblings, he's not only made for her, but designed after her too. It can't really be compared to, for example, Sonic and Tails.
I also think its what makes Shadow's character so substantial and meaningful. His self titled game's entire theme was purity, morals, what is good and bad. This question of purity and morality spreads into his appearances in other stories too- This question that, if you were badly hurt in your youth and shaped by evil- does that leave you impure? Stained? Destined to continue that cycle of harm and cruelty? I think these insecurities feel very real and relatable, and that it's even more realistic that despite these insecurities, that hurt and damage is actually what fuels him to protect others. Just as he said in Sonic Battle, "There's no need to repeat past tragedies! Nobody else ever needs to go through the things that I have!"
Statistically (despite media portrayal) abuse victims RARELY become abusers, because they understand the pain on a deeper level and can't bring themselves to force someone else into experiencing that same pain, knowing the permanent damage it causes. However, childhood abuse leaves people socially stunted and conditioned to harshness, which causes them to accidentally hurt others without meaning to. Or they end up hurting people out of desperation if they feel endangered (like Shadow's "means to an end" approach where he'll prioritize violence if it means reducing the end-impact). Also, they are more susceptible to being abused again after escaping the first abuser, because they are so susceptible to manipulation- Just like how whenever Shadow does switch sides, its usually because someone manipulated him into it or literally brainwashed him. I think Shadow conveys all of this so well, and that Maria's true role is an integral part of it all that can't be ignored or misunderstood, or else Shadow ends up reading as unnecessarily violent or overly obsessed with her when you interpret her as just a sister-figure that he knew for... who knows how few years.
I think this symbolism runs deep with his writing. Just like Maria's meant to be that inherent purity and inner child, I think the black arms DNA is that stain that abuse or trauma can leave on you, that causes you to act out or feel like you're always holding back and trying to keep control over some darker part of yourself that was left behind in the damage done. Especially since they literally have a mind link with Shadow. In the Sonic Universe comic, they succeed in brainwashing Shadow and turn him against his friends. These mind-links, soul-sharing, and brain-washing from both Gerald and the black arms... To disregard the fact that he's deeply connected to these people on a metaphysical, identity altering level is to water down his character and leave it feeling as though his motives are too weak to justify his harsh actions. I've seen people poke fun at his amnesia or insecurity in his identity, as though his confusion isn't justified, and I think it's because people don't realize he has these... literal fragments of other people inside of him, that that's pretty much what he's made of, kind of franken-steined together between a little girl's hopes and morals, an alien race's hivemind greed, a weapon-hungry government and a revenge maddened scientist's painful grief, and even the chaos emeralds which we all know are spiritually whacky and potentially connected to another alien race's memories and energies (the ancients from sonic frontiers). With all of that going on, plus some amnesia mixed in and his memories having been altered by Gerald- I mean.. you'd be searching for the "truth" of your identity too, who you really are. And of course, prone to frustration and aggression, or even a "wish-washy inconsistency." I think there's always a constant tug of war inside of him and that his whole development was a game of tug of war between Gerald, G.U.N and the black arms too. "Am I a cure, am I a death-bringer, am I earth's protector, am I it's destroyer," etc etc
Idk I just think a lot of problems people have with Shadow's writing stems from not realizing how deep things go and what they symbolize. Not to say that something like his boom characterization is of good quality or anything, but I think it's unfair to call him inconsistent when a confusion in his own identity and purpose/goals is kind of the point. And I think people not realizing Maria's deeper, physiological connection to him and influence might be part of the problem.
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