#is super thin so often i just look like a massive body i feel

[raven]

ok i cut off 1-2 inches of hair the last remaining previously bleached hair from when i was like 16. It does feel a lot lighter and fluffier now... also trimmed my bangs. will probably clean up after my shower tomorrow, my hair is greasy as fuuuck right now

#i might want to go farther but im scared. my hair grows SO slow #i would be stuck with a shitty haircut for a really long time #and for me like i would love having shorter hair but its directly tied to my body image for me-- my head is comically small lol and my hair #is super thin so often i just look like a massive body i feel #like its just disgusting #every part of my body could be beautiful but none of them can be beautiful together #my hair is one of the biggest contributing factors to my suicidality. at least im now happy with the color! due to certain influences

[desultory-novice]

hi dess! probably the wrong person to ask but it's just to immensely confuddling... is there a solid lore explanation for how sectonia turned into a bee? i wanted to write a body horror thing for her but i wanted it to be lore accurate and it's just all so convoluted !

Wrong person or not, it is impeccable timing! Both because of Triple Deluxe's 10th Anniversary (in Japan time) and the fact that I've been intensely studying those scenes for my own anniversary piece! Which is, err, running late.

Here is what we can garner about Sectonia's transformation abilities based on the available information + insights the game gives us.

[Pause Screen Lore]

VS Sectonia Vine

"Sectonia's family(1) have parasitized, taken possession of, and controlled countless lifeforms."

1) This word is often translated as "clan" as in a large gathering of members who are not necessarily family but belong to a specific unified group. IE, this could mean anything from "she and her direct family members have this ability" to "all spiders within a certain classification have this ability" to "all spiders have this ability".

I sometimes HC that possession is something all female spiders possess, because I like to imagine her people being a Queendom and that'd be a good reason for it, and also because of The Dark Crystal's "Wings? I don't have wings." "Of course not. You're a boy." (Which just feels so Taranza + Sectonia coded to me)

(I say "sometimes" because I'm also very fond of trans-girl Sectonia HC.)

VS Queen Sectonia (2)

"Sectonia, beautiful and menacing in form. She has [placed herself] inside the world tree..."

VS Sectonia Soul (2)

"I have parasitized and changed bodies so many times, I can no longer recall...which of them was my original self..."

(This pause screen lore is written from Sectonia's POV.)

So, yes, Joronia/Sectonia is a parasite.

She attaches to something and makes it part of her body/swaps bodies with it. If we look at the difference between her queen-form and her flowered-form, we understand a few things about this process: she takes her current body, as well as the body of another living organism and fuse them together. IE: 1 + 1 = 1

She retains some visual aspects of her previous body after a "switch" (she still has the bee head, collar, and wings, for example) and gains the greater (?) amount of traits from the new body.

This would mean that after her first swap, she probably still looked a little like "Joronia." (Something like a messed up version of those matching toys where you have to align the head, torso, and legs.)

What this also means is that in order to look like "Queen Sectonia" who is so completely different from what Taranza and Joronia look like, she would have had to swap bodies a lot. (Not to mention, she is BIG. It is possible her last body-swap wasn't even to a bee/wasp but something large she absorbed to gain the qualities of its size! Or maybe she stole something large for the size and then stole something with a super thin waist to get that hourglass figure XD)

Planet Robobot's Clone Sectonia lore tells us that "countless species" were found in the Dream Stalk's DNA "stretching over 1,000 years" so this does indeed seem to confirm she did this a frightening amount of times over a long period of time.

It's safe to say you will probably find no one creature in the Kirby-verse that looks similar to Queen Sectonia, as her body was custom crafted with parts from countless critters.

We also get a few visual insights into how parasitization looks...

...Upon her initial defeat, she begins giving off a massive amount of glitter/sparkles/insect scales. 

This visual is interesting as, if she was already reaching for a new body after her defeat, it is possible this is the first part of the process. Shedding her initial body. If not, this could either be a sign of her current body failing/dying or her parasitic control over it weakening.

She raises up, does some hand movements, lets out a wave of magic and begins to glow brightly. When we check back in on her, she has expelled her wings (she has them back in flower form but they DO appear slightly different. More petal-like and droopy. See above.) and wriggling tentacles appear from behind her...

You can debate that these are the Dream Stalk's vines wrapping around her, but they don't seem to behave the same way. (They don't have leaves either, which the vines do.) Thus, I think these are "appendages" that specifically appear as part of Sectonia/Joronia's transformation process. If you think about the way insects emerge from their cocoons, I can imagine these as tendrils as coming out from a "split/crack" that slowly forms in her back...

There's a LOT of light and time and struggle involved in the process but this could be just because the Dream Stalk was such a large and powerful target, being rooted into Popstar itself. If she's done this hundreds or thousands of times before, it is possible there is a shorter version of this for things she already overpowers.

...Though, the grimdark part of my brain imagines things like Taranza using his magic to hold one of her struggling targets down while she enwraps it with her horrible parasite tendrils. If Dess hasn't said this before, I'm less interested in soft, sad boy Taranza and much more interested in "1/2 of a gleeful villain couple" Taranza, who is so captivated by his beloved, he happily joins her in all sorts of horrendous things - leading military invasions in her name, assassinations, putting down rebellions, capturing new victims for her, all things he IS implied to do in game through Dedede -  only turning a blind eye to it because he believes in and is infatuated with her and thus, this must be the right thing to do. Right...?

-

In summary, what we can glean is all pretty bad. Sectonia doesn't even "swap" bodies because the bodies she absorb all get used up and can be said to be "dead" from the moment she inhabits them. Though you can even argue this, as, once she is defeated, the Dream Stalk seems to regain its individuality after her absorption. If you're re~ally into horror, you could take this to mean that some aspect of her victims consciousness is carried on from body to body...!!!!

Also, swapping from body to body appears to be more of a melding process anyway, which could also be pretty darn horrible, depending upon how much control you think she has over which traits she inherits from her victims. If it's entirely her choice, it's simply a matter of how many bodies until she's found the traits she believes "perfects" her ultimate vision of herself - plus how many times she changes her mind. If it's NOT then she's probably gone through an insane amount of swaps/victims, discontented at the results and insisting on trying again and again until it turns out "right."

And there you have it! Joronia's transformation into Sectonia is both deeply pitiful and deeply, deeply frightening!

#Kirby #Taranza #Queen Sectonia #Joronia #Dess Rambles #Dess Theories #cw: mild horror #(This kind of stuff is why I don't necessarily consider the HWC's crimes to be worse than Sectonia and her wicked reign) #(As depending how deeply you read into it it was...bad.) #(Like if Elizabeth Bathory and The Thing had a baby!) #I still love her though! Happy 10th Triple Deluxe!!!

[nudibranchlover]

Rengoku’s NSFW alphabet!!!

[ INCLUDES ]

- nsfw content, clearly

- gender-neutral reader (parts for both people with dicks and with straps :))

- trans!Rengoku (afab Genderfluid)

- breeding kink

- praise kink

- public sex mentions

A/N: go check out my Wattpad @moistwormonastring if you enjoyed <3 this is cross-posted there as well

—————————

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I like to think he's really emotional and tender after sex! He'll get you both water but usually doesn't care about going for a shower- he's usually super exhausted and he'd rather fall asleep with you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

His favourite body part on himself is probably his thighs. He loves when you grab them and how he looks in shorts and skirts!

His favourite body part on you, though, is probably your arms. He likes feeling stable and when you hold his hand, let him lean on your shoulder, etc. it just helps him feel safe <3

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves cum. He's a squirter though, so he doesn't really have a choice since it gets EVERYWHERE.

If you have a dick, he'll beg for you to cum inside, he won't have any condoms on hand at any point purely because of this. If you're into punishing him, pull out and cum on his stomach or back when he's been bad and he'll sob

If you don't, he'll take care of you after sex and will happily use his tongue for you <3 cum anywhere anyway you want, but he does look especially nice when it runs down his chin!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's really into the thought of being stuck somewhere in public, and you taking him despite everyone watching. The idea of you not caring and claiming him in front of anyone and everyone... wow <3

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

He's had a handful of hookups, a few serious relationships that didn't last, so he's pretty experienced! He loves being intimate with you more than anyone else he's been with, though, since you actually pay attention to his wants (*ahem* and his clit *ahem*)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

The mating press! It's his favourite and will always be his favourite. He loves being able to kiss you and look into your eyes during sex! He also just adores being folded in half on your cock/strap, so-

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Depends when you're having sex, really! But he doesn't like having serious sex all the time- he'd much rather tell you how much he loves you and how good you're doing :) he'll occasionally giggle

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Oh the carpet DEFINITELY matches the drapes. All the hair on his body is either blond or a mixture of blond and red, and his lower half is no different

He has a thin snail trail that leads all the way down. He 100% has a hairy pussy, he doesn't shave very regularly, but it's somehow always shaped like a little flame! (It looks best when sopping wet, of course <3)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Oh he's MORE than romantic- he's intoxicating. He can't help but kiss you every few minutes because you're doing so well! Or, if he's the one pleasing you, he'll pepper kisses across your stomach every so often as well.

He can't help but stare at you with those big, doe eyes- they practically have hearts in them!!!

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He's really pent-up. He's on testosterone so he's naturally super horny 24/7, so he'll usually get off in the shower or he'll rub himself on anything he can find for some kind of relief, honestly. Your thigh is his top choice for that, though

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding! He has a massive breeding kink- he adores the thought of you fucking him so deep and hard you get him pregnant! If you buy him a dildo/buy a strap-on with a knot at the end? Expect him to go WILD.

He also has a huge praise kink! Both giving and receiving! Though, if you call him a 'good girl' he'll cream immediacy!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favourite places switch between the bedroom and the kitchen respectfully. He adores a good round of food sex- namingly when you eat sweet things like cake off of each other! He also just loves getting fucked on the countertop <33

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything and everything. Again, he's REALLY pent-up- but the most you can do to turn him on is pull him into your lap. It's so much easier to temp him to grind when he's sat on one of your thighs

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Being bound! He really doesn't like not being able to touch you or himself, and it really kills the mood when he's so pent-up on top of it :(

Also when you're upset. Consensual non-consent is impossible for him, because, even if it's fake, nothing makes him more serious than when you seem upset or get that little crease between your brows

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both giving and receiving! But if he had to pick one, he'd pick receiving

He loves the way you suck his t-dick. You don't even have to do much before he's coming, but if you pull away for just a moment to eat him out, he'll cry in the best way possible

He's pretty skilled at giving oral! He's sucked a handful of dicks in his life, but he's also eaten out a few people as well- it's probably what he's best at

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He loves it slow! He'll obviously want you to go fast very often, fuck him like you're using him as a fleshlight please and thank you! But soft, slow sex always feels more romantic and memorable <3

He especially loves slow sex when you grope him, just fondling his body is enough to get him impossibly wet

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He definitely isn't a fan of them, but after his t-shot? Fuck him on the floor like a bitch in heat for 2 minutes until he cums and he'll love it <3

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He loves experimenting with you! He trusts you with both his heart and his body, so if you want to try something with him, he's more than happy to give you what you want!

He loves taking risks, though. His biggest fantasy is, again, public sex- so if you decide one time to fuck him in the changing rooms or in a public bathroom, he's more than happy to arch his back for you and bite his tongue <3

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's good for about 3 rounds, but he needs to cum touched for each of them. He's really needy and if you don't give him what he wants, he'll ride your face until he cums properly

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has a bunch of toys! Vibrators, dildos, butt plugs- the works!

He usually saves his vibrators and suction cups for himself, especially when you're not there and he gets horny, but he'll occasionally pull out a vibrator during sex as well

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A LOT. He'll do it unintentionally half of the time, just wearing something a bit revealing and bending over to pick something up in public- usually spilling his food or drinks gets you worked up enough to just fuck him right then and there

But the other half of the time... he'll purposefully go out without boxers, especially in skirts, and when you get home he'll usually sit in your lap in only his shorts and a bra until you punish him for it!!!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

SO LOUD!!! He's atrocious at keeping the noise down, but he'll usually whine and writhe around when you hit a particular spot inside of him, that's when he's the loudest.

Either that or when you're going rough on him as punishment, because when you spank him he looses all self awareness and will flat-out scream until he looses his voice

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

His pussy is wide and deep- about 6-7 inches with a few curves, so it's especially hard to touch his cervix, but that's not such a big deal as long as you hit his g-spot. His labia is curled the slightest bit, and his lips are a soft, rosy pink colour <3

His t-dick is also very small and sweet, super easy to suck on when he begs for you to

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

His body is beautiful. He's a healthy mix between chubby and buff- with big, powerful arms but a soft, sweet belly. He's got a lot of hair (*cough* testosterone *cough, cough*) but none of that should matter if you love him!

His body is relatively untouched besides the fact he's on T, so he doesn't have top surgery and is more than comfortable with you touching and groping his chest.

I mean, really, could you get any more perfect??

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Again, he's horny all the time, so his sex drive is naturally pretty high, especially after his t-shot. If you aren't right there behind him every time he pulls out that needle, you're gonna get hunted down like prey.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Almost immediately. He'll do most of the aftercare beforehand, so he'll be especially tired, and will usually pass out in your arms within a few minutes of cuddling (non-optional, you HAVE to hold him)

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kyoujurou rengoku #rengoku x reader #Rengoku x gn!reader #rengoku x male reader #Rengoku x fem!reader #top reader #dom reader #dom gn reader #top gn reader #trans!rengoku #trans character x reader #afab rengoku #nsft #sub rengoku

[honourablejester]

Numenera Oddities

So. Numenera does the thing I love from D&D 5e, and that is trinket tables. Or, in this case, oddity tables.

Oddities are ancient salvaged techno-magical items that aren’t necessarily directly useful, like the more powerful one-shot cyphers or reusable artefacts, but are more there for the flavour of the world. Characters often start with them, GM assigned, and I assume you can find more of them out and about. And … I do love them. These are from the Oddity Table on pgs 305-307 of the Discovery corebook, and they’re just … so illustrative of this future fantasy, scavenger world, 'remants of past civilisations' setting.

I think one of the things that I most love is that, from the characters’ POV, in their medieval fantasy setting, these are inscrutable artefacts of a bygone civilisation, but from our POV, with our technology, you can so clearly see what some of them are intended to be:

26 – Series of thin plastic cards that show all kinds of unknown creatures. (Somebody had trading cards or card games during the past billion years)

20 – Plastic bottle that contains a spray that cleans any stain and never runs out. (Somebody finally invented a universal household cleaner, an infinite universal household cleaner, I bet they made an absolute mint)

30 – Metallic jar that maintains the temperature of liquid inside indefinitely. (Somebody made an improved thermos)

60 – Cup that instantly boils any liquid poured into it. (As well as an instant tea/instant pot noodle/instead meal cup)

33 – Small wand-like device that keeps away normal insects in a 5ft radius. (As well as mobile personalised insect zappers)

55 – Shirt that displays your muscles, bones and internal organs when you wear it. (And, for whatever reason, a portable x-ray shirt? Was this a practical invention first, for field x-rays, or was it for funsies, or both?)

58 – Bracelet with a tiny bell charm that rings like a massive bell when intentionally rung. (Personal protective device?)

80 – A bracelet that rends you unable to reproduce while worn. (An easy, non-invasive contraceptive device, interesting)

76 – Ceramic ring that makes you feel as though gentle hands are caressing your body. (As well as a possible sex toy? Or aide for touch-hunger? Not going to lie, if I touched this with no context and no idea what it was going to be, I’d freak the hell out)

79 – A pair of small, floating cubes that keep a small, enclosed room at the temperature at which water freezes. (Portable refrigeration)

Like, a lot of these are clearly futuristic novelty items or household appliances, as well as some more in-depth and casual medical technology. And I love that? I love that. You’re in a medieval fantasy scavenger world where the detritus of past super-futuristic civilisations litter your world, and you’re there picking up random bits of ancestor junk and trying from your own frame of reference to figure out what the fuck they had going on.

Some of the oddities are a bit more inscrutable even from our POV.

7 – Box with a tiny group of musicians in it who play when it is opened and look horrified when it is closed. (Now, this could be a novelty item again, but this is also a setting where ancient crystal obelisks eat people and trans-dimensional portals and pocket dimensions are also a thing, so … not beyond the bounds of possibility that those are live and enslaved musicians getting shunted into a pocket stasis dimension every time you close the lid)

And some have a language barrier in effect:

16 – Small rod that emits a voice saying the same thing in an unknown language every time a button is pushed. (Could be anything from a personal memo to an ancient distress call)

47 – Five metallic plates that orbit around your head and display ever-changing, unknown symbols. (I fucking love this one, if I was a scholar in this world I would dedicate my life to figuring out this language from the presumption that those symbols are some form of reading from me and if I can just figure out what they’re reading from what symbols show when, maybe I can Rosetta stone this language out? I mean, that’s a lot of assumptions, but you’d have to at least try, right?)

There’s also a series of oddities that are clearly communication/monitoring devices:

17 – Glass plate that shows what seems to be a live image of the moon, but from a closer vantage.

43 – Glass cube that shows what seems to be a live aerial view of an unknown, ruined city.

89 – Plate of glass that, when you view the night sky through it, reveals ten times as many stars.

And we, the players, know that the setting does have ancient satellites still in orbit around the planet, full of nanomachines and other ancestors-know-what. So these are clearly receivers for satellite feeds, or possibly in the last case a light-pollution filter. Though I’d be interested to know if that last one is a live image, or if it’s an image of the stars of this world several million years ago.

And then, in the midst of all that, there are several oddities that are clearly just art, or novelties, or just for fun:

57 – Amulet that, when worn, projects holographic images of fish swimming around you.

Is this a nightlight? A holographic art piece? A fun fashion accessory? I don’t know, but I desperately want one, and no matter how useless it is, I would not sacrifice this one oddity for any number of more useful cyphers or artefacts. It’s pretty, and I love it.

I love the design philosophy of these, the illustration of the world and its history that they provide. And, I mean, some of them, like D&D trinkets, can also function as plot hooks. Where is that unknown city on the live feed? Are those musicians real people trapped in a horrifying pocket dimension? Could you Rosetta-stone one of the ancient languages from that metallic plate device, and if you could, what other, potentially more powerful secrets would it unlock?

They’re just … I love trinkets. I love environmental worldbuilding, I love archaeology, I love the illustration of setting inherent in physical objects. These are fantastic.  

Trinket tables are the best. Honestly, if you are designing a game, do put in a class of objects that don’t exist for any mechanical, game purpose, but are just there to show your world. To show the ethos of your world via the tiny details and physical objects that populate it.

Also, this game appears to be, to a large extent, ‘fantastic archaeology: the setting’, and I’m here for it. Absolutely!

#numenera #ttrpgs #trinkets #trinket tables #oddities #playing with POVs #i love these so much

[eggluttony]

Okay what if Eggman started getting more pear shaped we know all his limbs are belly thin in comparison what if the weight stared going to his hips, thighs, and butt (and maybe even arms) instead of just his belly making him more curvy

Yeahhh that's super hot 🥰 With his change in fat distribution from classic to modern it could shift around again in time and affect him in new places. Him eventually thickening out more in other areas, looking even fatter and wider than ever as all the fat finds more new places to store when he piles on the pounds is so fun. Looking so huge and wide and fattened up and plump everywhere really suits him 💕

His love handles getting really thick and his hips looking really wide is sexy, his model in the games seems to have that effect close up and it's what I like to call his middle-age spread but we should go wider. And his butt getting so much fatter and wider to the point it really sticks out far further than before and his ass cheeks are round and thick. And him getting wider plusher arms and legs and thick wobbly thighs. 😍

When he sits all his fat spreads even more. His belly proceeds so far it looks close to reaching his knees and rests on big thick thighs, squishy love handles spill, his hips are so wide, his butt so big it's in the way of sitting back fully in his seat. His arms are too chubby for arm rests and his butt, hips, and belly are too wide for the seat. His bigger softer tits rest on top of his wide belly. His cheeks are fat and he has a big double chin. 🥴

He looks so massive and curvy and wide from every angle. Everything is plump, soft, and squishy, wobbles and jiggles like thick jelly, and sags heavily. He keeps getting stuck in seats and doors from being so wide as often as breaking them and he can't fit his clothes not even just over his big fat belly and tits, he can't even put his fatter arms and legs and butt in. The waist area on all his clothes can't cover his new width!

Everything wobbles and jiggles so much when he moves and his fatter legs and heavier belly makes him waddle more. When he looks in the mirror, he sees all the deep dark stretchmarks much lower down his belly, butt, thighs, arms, everywhere. It all forces him to acknowledge how they've all really expanded and how much he's blowing up bigger as he keeps growing and more fat keeps sticking to more places.

Being wider and heavier and the struggles can be embarrassing and he gets tired and breathless much easier. But he feels so warm and cozy being so soft and fat, it encourages him to stay comfy being lazy and lounging on his fat ass, even though he still can't stop being greedy and stuffing his face. His body really starts to show the fatass he is even when he isn't seen eating because he's gotten so big!

I approve of Dr. Pearman who looks so fat and expanded and wide from every angle with his big plump butt sticking out at the back, wide hips and love handles spilling out at his sides, and fat belly and big tits proceeding him at the front. And him having cute chubby arms and thick wobbly thighs. 💘 So soft, flabby, cuddly, and heavy with a huge body that jiggles a ton all over, that would be such a dream god 🤤💜💖💕

#asks #imagines #weight gain #modern

[syans-fitness-and-health]

It's been a good 7-ish months now, so I guess it's about time for an update with my weight loss and life in general.

Last September 1st, I got married to my lovely wife, Chay. It was a small ceremony with only her close family and a few friends. (All of my family lives out of state) We have plans to do the fully themed ceremony we had planned at a later date. It's just too expensive, and I'd like to be fully transitioned and a much healthier/thinner person by then. We'll treat it as a renewal of our vows.

At any rate, I was about 265lbs at the time of the wedding. I look large in the photos, but not anywhere as massive as I did in 2022.

About a week later, we left to go on vacation/ honeymoon in Ocean City Maryland.

It was fun! Yet, despite all the walking we did and the fruit we often snacked on instead of chips and candy, I actually gained five pounds and came home to the scale around 270 once more.

I knew it was temporary, but it was frustrating all the same.

I came back and immediately was thrown into full time at the job I'd originally been intending to quit. Full time meant more time on my feet, more walking, etc.

By December I was sliding back and forth between 256 and 260, depending on the day.

So you'd think I'd be about 225 now, right?

Well no.

Despite not really eating any more than usual and probably eating a bit less to be honest, my weight maintained in that sliding scale area. One day I might be 257 and four days later 261.

I started to feel hopeless, but I knew that sometimes the body hangs onto it for a while because of all the changes. From December to late February, while nothing seemed to change weight wise, I noticed a few inches gone and I noticed my face thinning down, the double chin disappearing.

Along side that, my back, shoulders, ass, and legs have become more muscular. Part of that certainly has come from the position I have at my job. I'm a manager and I handle the alcohol in the store. While it's not super heavy lifting it is consistent. It's helping.

As of roughly a week ago however, the scale has finally started to budge again!

About five days ago I weighed myself and I was about 254lbs. And as of yesterday I'm about 252lbs.

There's still so much progress to be made and it's not a straight line. My goal weight is 170lbs. Right now though, I'm excited to be nearing my weight of 4 years ago.

As soon as I see 240lbs on that scale again, you better bet I'm gonna be celebrating. That'll be more than 55lbs lost. That's crazy to me. But I'm looking forward to it.

#weight loss #syan rambles

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

s.o.s, m | knj

pairing(s): namjoon x reader

summary: It's two in the morning and Kim Namjoon is at your doorstep, asking you to fuck. In a fuckbuddies way, because, as a wise man once said, "I may not know love, but I know snacks." Well, you do agree with this statement. Let's go with the flow!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics, blowjob, cowgirl); friends-with-benefits and feels through fucking (classic for me, haha, maybe I fell in love with him while writing it, oops)

happy birthday, Kim Namjoon <3 #happyRMday

--

now playing – pado by bibi

“Hey!”

“Shit, Namjoon, are you trying to break my door down at two in the morning or what? What’s with you? Why didn’t you just type in the lock?”

Kim Namjoon’s large frame and big brown eyes glanced at the silver-blue electronic number pad on your apartment door. “Oh. Right. I forgot you had that now.”

“I have it because you keep losing my key!”

He rubbed the back of his now blond head sheepishly. He must have dyed it recently because it had been dark brown last week. It was shorter than before, trimmed at the sides and longer at the top. Usually it was styled, but right now it was messy and puffy like he had been running across the city on those long legs of his or, more likely, windblown from riding his bicycle on his way here.

Namjoon didn’t drive. He said it was to maintain world peace.

“Do you wanna fuck?” he asked you breathlessly.

You looked down at your massive black sleep shirt that made you look like a lump of fabric, but, well, he picked today to pop the question and what were you gonna do? Say no?

You snapped back up, smacking your finger on your left wrist. “It’s two in the morning!”

“One forty-five, yeah,” Namjoon agreed, glancing at his brown leather-banded, white-faced watch. Simple and sleek. You noticed he had a few colorful string-woven bracelets on his wrists, likely handmade by someone in the various rural villages Namjoon liked to visit in his spare time. He dropped his arm and smiled brilliantly at you with those dimpled cheeks.

“I was thinking about you. You know, that habit you do when you run your hand through your hair and flick your wrist at the end, elegantly spreading your fingers out. Super sexy.”

You felt your ears heat. “Hahah… what?”

He scratched his head and stuck his hands in his loose black pants, draping his warm gray t-shirt over his wrists. Lowered his chin and flickered his eyes to you, awkward half-smile on those full lips.

Oh.

Shit.

“D… Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, backing up and shifting your eyes. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” Namjoon chirped, stepping inside and out of his brown sandals.

“Give me those puppy eyes even though you’re built like a fucking tank.”

“I snore like one too.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But none of those things really mattered because your arm was snaking up, your other hand slapping the door closed, looking down until you couldn’t look down anymore, lifting your head to playful dark brown orbs and a dimpled smile, already leaning down, his scent of warm cotton and faint florals washing over you, and then his lips touched yours and it was over.

You could say no, you could, but you never really wanted to.

Namjoon wasn’t being rude showing up so late. After all, you had already told him it was one of your fantasies, a late-night rendezvous, a bit of unexpected expected fun. Namjoon was willing to help, a game of ping-pong between casual, sometimes lovers, both too busy and scatterbrained at this point in life to commit to anything, but that worked for you and for him, or at least that’s what you told him and what he told you, his large hands now encircling your back, fingertips pressed into the thin fabric, sighing into your mouth, rhythm of those long fingers dancing up, up, sinking into your hair, tangling himself in it, nibbling at your lower lip.

“I just love touching your hair,” that deep, deep voice whispered to your lips, eyes still closed, smirking as the tip of your tongue darted out, playing with him as he spoke. “And I like messing it up a little.”

“A little? You like messing it up a lot.”

Namjoon curled his fingers inward and pulled back, your head following automatically, grinning with you as he opened his eyes, devious even with the dimples.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

It wasn’t fun if it wasn’t with him.

You raised your hand and spread your fingers out, slowly running your nails up and then down his chest, smirking back at him, your tongue peeking out between your teeth.

Namjoon once said to you, let’s just go with the flow, ride the wave.

He sucked in a breath right now and pulled you close, hands letting go of your hair as he captured your lips again, deep, ravenous kisses that took your breath away, such wonderful lips that loved to travel across your body and wander that wonderland, his hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt, bunching it up as he stumbled back into your apartment, dragging you with him, you riding the wave of his passion, dragging his shirt up with yours, tossing them aside, body to body, exploring lips on that warm skin and muscular chest.

Namjoon also said things like, I may not know love, but I know snacks, so, yeah, he was always poetic like that. Full of wisdom and weirdness, arguably the best combination one could have when struggling through this nonsensical world.

You pushed him down on the bed, kissing all that tan skin, running your nails down his shoulders, walking down his defined biceps finger by finger, digging in a little harder, pairing it with kisses and drawing stars on his pecs with your saliva, making him smile and flash those dimples.

“Like that?” you teased, drawing back a little so he could watch the mastery of your tongue at work.

“You know me,” Namjoon chuckled, the sound radiating from his chest to your mouth, sending ripples through your spine. “I like cute things with a little pinch.”

“Like those tiny beach crabs?”

Now he actually laughed, that throaty, booming laugh of his, nodding with affirmation.

You sometimes wondered when the waves would stop and roll out, sometimes wondered if the tide of Kim Namjoon would go low and leave you behind, but maybe it was the moon or something, cosmic threads that sent him rushing back to your beach, bright and sparkling, always catching the light and looking good from every angle.

“Fuck, I always forget you’re huge.”

“I am not huge. You are being dramatic.”

“Dramatically sucking your dick.”

You knew how to take his breath away, how to make him gasp and his hand fly to your head, groaning as he pushed you down, your throat closing around his rapidly swelling length, tongue all over in the small window you had to wetly caress every contour and vein, bobbing your head in time with his gentle nudges, waiting for you and your jaw to adjust before thrusting a little harder, a little rougher, choppy waves and lost breath. His scent filled your nose, his toned hips in your hands, digging your nails into that muscle, inhaling and drowning in the feeling, pressing him between tongue and roof of your mouth, feeling the head hitting your throat, so you tightened your muscles.

Namjoon moaned your name, brown orbs turning darker from dilated pupils.

It filled your ears and soaked into your chest, your heart pumping faster, beating harder, drawn to the sound like a sailor to a siren.

You took him deeper, pulsing around the head, sticking your tongue out a little to lap at his balls collected in your hands.

“A-Ah, fuck… You’re always so, so good… always making me think of you…”

You watched his eyes close, his hand gripping your hair, not unkind, simply adding a little bit of force, but you were in control of the pace, riding the wave, filling your mouth with his hardness over and over, closing your own eyes, small tears collecting at the corners, unable to breathe, but you already knew you were diving and you practiced for this, holding your breath and bobbing your head fast and tight, your fingernails clawing at his sides just the way he liked, a little neediness, a little desperation, maybe an act or maybe not, honestly hard to tell with how often you had blown him, so maybe it was part of you now, just like how sometimes you would be alone and smell his scent even though Namjoon wasn’t there at all, maybe real but probably an olfactory memory, strange that it would happen just like that, a wave of warm cotton and faint florals that you drank in small trickles right now, your mouth occupied with his thick length, listening to the sloppy, wet sound of his cock being swallowed over and over again by your suffocating mouth, saliva sliding over his balls and onto your chin.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

Pushing you down, forcing you to deep dive, swallowing on instinct, clamping your lips around his jerking cock with every gulp of gushing cum, the strong salty taste lingering in the back of your tongue as your throat was stuffed with the swollen head. Namjoon shuddered deeply, resonating pleasure that drifted down his torso and through your fingertips. You lapped up anything you missed, sucking it off and Namjoon hissed at the sensitivity, tugging at your hair sharply.

You hummed and retreated a little, breathing again, licking the underside of the tip, wiggling your tongue over the slit and around head, opening your eyes to Namjoon’s panting smile.

“You want me to punish you or what?”

Nah, you wanted to ride the wave, but this particular wave was pretty fucking big.

“Oooh, fuck…!”

Namjoon raised his arms and grabbed your pillows, thrusting his hips up into your pussy after you had lowered halfway. The condom wrapper flew off the bed, probably to be found in some random place in your room tomorrow morning.

A later you problem.

Hands on his chest, sinking down, gasping for breath at the forced stretch at his girth, but it was nicer that way, wet and getting wetter, spreading your knees and arching your back, your hair falling down your shoulders, rolling your body to smack down onto his crotch, fuck, so hard and so full, starting a rough, choppy rhythm because Namjoon was deliberately not letting you set up a reasonable pace and kept thrusting up a little too fast, a little too hard, hot moans tumbling out of your mouth, feeling the crashing pleasure try to overtake you, drawing your knees back in to feel all of him, your palms sliding up, grasping those strong shoulders, lowering your head to speak to those sultry brown orbs reflecting your open mouth and half-lidded gaze.

“Namjoon… please, oh, f-fuck… if you’re gonna be like this, j-just fuck me…!”

He grinned, dimples on display.

“Anything for you.”

Mayday, mayday, you needed to be saved from that teasing smile and those words.

His hands fitted to your shaking hips and held you up easily, lifting his hips up at a deep, hard pace, emphasis on strength and less on speed, the muscles of his arms tense and locked to keep you above him as he slammed his hard cock into your pussy.

“Ah, yes, yes, right there, Namjoon, yes…”

You could go deeper so you did, slapping your hips down too and making Namjoon grin under you. Shit, something about those round cheeks and bright smile while he was railing you practically to heaven was doing something to you, washing out your senses and giving you no time to think, squeezing him inside you and feeling him twitch back, something so sexy about how he could do that even while fucking you, and you saw him suck in a breath, witnessing your effect on him, his hold becoming tighter, his dark lashes lowering, hooded eyes and locking with your gaze.

Drowning in the pleasure with you.

“Come on, you want it, right?” he panted under you, voice so deep it felt like you were underwater, your skin vibrating with the seductiveness of his tone and the depth of his sound mixing with the harsh slaps of skin to skin, wet and wonderful. “Show me you want it, give it to me.”

You couldn’t say no, already tightening your core and smacking down on him harder before he could even finish speaking, the ecstasy shooting up your spine and pouring all over your scalp and mind, letting go, pitched cries and blissful moans, Namjoon moaning with you, your name on his lips and filling up your bedroom, clutching his shoulders and staring into his eyes, breathing in warm cotton and faint florals, cast away into a wild paradise.

You clenched around him and gasped, a powerful jolt rocking through you, surprised at the sudden squelch but then you felt the overwhelming rush barreling through you, sweeping you into pulsing pleasure, one of your hands losing grip and grabbing onto the pillow beside Namjoon’s head, his heavy breath and your exhaled name blowing over on your prickling skin, realizing you were accidentally closer than usual because your hand slipped, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist and slamming you down onto his crotch, groaning and tipping his head back, his eyes closing, Adam’s apple prominent against his flexed neck.

If possible, suddenly you could breathe even less.

Your pussy throbbed around his twitching cock, his orgasm spurting into the condom and your juices soaking his skin with each flinch of the aftermath, wave after wave crashing into you, your arms trembling to hold yourself up so you could absorb it all – him, the dwindling pleasure, the moment when his eyes opened, your name drifting out of those lips in a lustful haze.

“I should… go back to mine, huh…” he wheezed, chuckling slightly. “Otherwise, I’m going to snore too loud and you’re not going to be able to sleep…”

You slid down, closer, closer, seeing the mole underneath his lower lip with his rueful smile. His fingers were drawing circles on your hips.

“I bought earplugs.”

You silenced his laugh with a kiss.

--

masterpost

#namjoon x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you

[thunderheadfred]

🦅Hawks HC’s🦅

This is SO unnecessarily long. Some NSFW. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

Has zero social life or hobbies outside of work. He knows it’s unhealthy, but like, who has the time?? Oh? Lots of people do?? Haha what are healthy work/home boundaries? He desperately wants to retire and always talks about a world without heroes, but the truth is he would have no idea what to do with himself if he got his way. Take him to a park at midnight and watch him turn into a giant repressed child on a swing. He’ll do a standing-360 and it will be terrifying.

Listens to music way too loud in his headphones to drown out wind noise. Probably half deaf at this point. His musical taste is wild; listening history all over the fucking place. Algorithms have no idea what to do with him.

That visor? It’s prescription. Wow is he far-sighted. He wears glasses. He’s not blind without them (rather the opposite) but they help him see things directly in front of him without massive eye strain. Yeah, he looks really hot in glasses.

Prefers communicating via text. Sometimes it’s a lot of dumb memes, but mostly it’s sincere. He can say what he means when he doesn’t have to put on a public front.

Smokes like a chimney. Self medicates with stimulants. Coffee, tobacco, sugar. Fidgety, likes things in his mouth or hands. Gnashes on toothpicks and popsicle sticks. He really should go back to therapy, huh? His teeth are sparkling white for the cameras but his breath could use some work. Chews gum a lot to compensate, and always does it really loudly with a big shit-eating grin.

Impatient as fuuuuuck. Rude about it. If you take too long doing anything, you’re going to hear a foot tapping. He’ll smile and laugh it off, never ever directly criticize you about it. But lord, the dramatic sighs. He WILL nudge you out of the way and take over in order to finish a task faster, and it’s truly fucking annoying.

LOVES food. Has the metabolism of an actual bird. Will seize upon any excuse to eat. No need to be self-conscious about eating in front of him; he wants you to enjoy it. Steals bites from you and talks with his mouth full. Prefers street food and take-out, usually eats while walking or flying. Sit-down restaurants are an invitation for gawkers.

He’s one of those celebrities that looks way taller on TV. In real life, he’s small and compact. So you’re surprised the first time you see him in person. He has a big head. Literally.

If you’re taller or bigger than him, he does Not Care. He treats everyone like they’re four feet tall, even Endeavor. Everything you do is cute. If you’re actually short, he’s going to carry you around all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Collects big chunky overpriced watches. All the better to tell you you’re late.

Half his clothes are brand fucking new. Sometimes he forgets to take off the tags. (Don’t look at the prices, do NOT) He never seems to wear the same thing twice. He also never seems to go shopping. Brands just give him stuff, and he shrugs and goes “yeah okay.”

The other half of his clothes are old, faded, and patched up. Every item he acquires for himself has deep sentimental value. If you tell him to throw away that nasty ten-year-old pair of frayed cargo pants, be prepared to find out how wrong and evil you are for even suggesting it.

He doesn’t snore; he coos. Loudly. Like a fucking pigeon trapped in a megaphone.

- - - - -

Dating

Gift-giving is his love language. Bringing your favorite snacks. Leaving novelty magnets on your fridge. He found a copy of that book/game/movie you mentioned like a month ago, don’t you remember? If he has to go out of town on a job, he’ll bring back the ugliest possible souvenir, just to annoy you.

He likes gifting jewelry especially. Covering you in shiny baubles, little golden things. Not expensive, but unusual. Antiques or handmade, even bizarre vending machine crap. Gets really handsy if you wear or show off his gifts.

Since you’re the first person who has given him The Feels, if you are resistant to his advances (like, say, because he’s way too famous and you’re terrified he’s gonna break your heart) he’s going to go fucking nuts trying to woo you. Doesn’t have a single patient bone in his body but will wait as long as it takes for you to come around. He’ll act like he’s cool with just being friends at first, just hanging out, haha. Oh you’re busy today? That’s cool. Inside he’s shrieking like a tea kettle. Go ahead, make him wait.

Don’t bother giving him a key to your place. He’s coming in through the bedroom window or patio door. Just put out a damn welcome mat on your balcony... or a bird feeder.

A bit of a voyeur. He likes to watch you do your normal routine without interruption. He can see from miles away so if you’ve got your lights on at night, he’ll creep for a while before he comes in. It comforts him immensely, seeing a little slice of the world that isn’t constantly in need of saving.

Is super talkative and funny but a terrible communicator. Makes more jokes the worse he feels. Will almost never tell you what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know. You will learn to read between the lines and gradually notice his tiny unconscious cries for help. Back rubs make him emotional.

He shows up at your place at the weirdest times. All hours. You’re never ready. At first it was infuriating, because you wanted to look your best and have time to prepare, but you figure out pretty quickly that seeing you in your natural state is his favorite thing. He never gets to be around normal people, doing normal things. A boring, lazy afternoon is his idea of paradise.

He’ll pick through your things and ask a world of invasive questions. A medicine cabinet raider. He wants to know every fucking tiny thing about you, live vicariously through you.

He actually lives in a top floor penthouse. Because I mean, where else? Never spends any time there; mostly he seems to roost on the balcony. He has used the front door maybe once. He much prefers your place, and will only take you back to his after months of dating. It’ll take like, an entire emergency. You’ll end up in his bed by mistake.

Because when you finally come over, he’s embarrassed. Its sparse. White. Things in boxes. A new furniture smell. Like he’s not done moving in, though he’s lived there for years. He wants you to move in So Bad but doesn’t want to be pushy. If you don’t start leaving your stuff there, he’ll steal things from your apartment. Where the hell is your favorite t-shirt? Or that pillowcase you like? Dammit Keigo.

He’s a decent cook, a habit he made himself pick up because he thought it might make him feel more normal. It... didn’t. He never actually cooks until you give him an excuse. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and watch you eat every bite with big hungry eyes.

He’s got a separate wardrobe for his hero costume and all his feathers. Yeah. His feathers. Because he can detach and control his feathers at will, when he’s alone at home he kind of just... shucks off his wings. The first time you see him do it, your eyes fall out of your head. He walks around in a tee shirt and boxers with these ugly little stumps covered in brownish, blood-red down. It actually looks kind of gnarly, like he got mauled by a bear.

He’s never dated until you. No one has ever been in his apartment until you. No one has called him Keigo until you. He has some bigass intimacy issues. Because. Y’know. The trauma. But god, he wants you in his life so bad, even if he has no idea how to make time for your relationship.

He’ll want to keep you to himself for a while. Once you go public he’s going to have an arm around your shoulders at all times. Publicly Displays his Affection way more than is socially acceptable in Japan, and gives precisely -100,000 fucks.

His fans either love you or hate you. There is no in between. He will immediately take your phone and threaten to drop it from a great height if he catches you reading shitty gossip about the two of you. Does NOT care about his public image anymore, doesn’t want YOU to care about it either. He’s gonna retire soon anyway, remember? That’s a lie.

Being a charming motherfucker is the core of his public persona, so you will get jealous. A lot. He will flirt shamelessly without realizing it. He will get photographed in compromising positions with gorgeous people.

Once you accept that he’s basically an actor 80% of the time and that Hawks and Keigo are separate identities, you’ll both feel better. When he comes home (to YOU) and falls over exhausted and stops being Hawks(tm), when he scratches his ass or burps in front of you, when he yells to you from the bathroom, when he groans childishly about his shitty day while laying face-down in your lap, you’ll know you have nothing to worry about. Keigo is all yours.

Boundaries? Never heard of ‘em. He’s either a million lightyears away or he’s glued to your hip. The whiplash is astounding.

Absolutely says “I love you” wayyyyyy to soon. It thrills you but scares you off at the same time, because there’s no way Hawks - The Hawks - can actually mean it, right? (He does)

Rings? Nah. When things get serious, he will make a necklace out of a feather for you, and if you ever take it off, you better be asleep or in the shower. Even then you’re on thin fuckin ice. If you’re not wearing it he knows. He’s never mean about making you put it back on, it just makes him nervous if he can’t feel your heartbeat.

- - - - -

SPICY CHICKEN NUGGETS

High sex drive. Horny like 25/7. Probably a symptom of having way too much pent up stress.

Often takes care of it himself when he doesn’t have the emotional resources for anyone else, even his S.O. Figures you don’t want him coming on to you as often as he would like to, but he’s too stupid to talk to you about it first. Morning masturbator.

Yes he’s fucked around a lot but he’s not exactly a playboy either. People have always thrown themselves at him, and before he met you he let them do it. Especially when out of town and staying in a hotel. Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, etc.

He’d never be unfaithful to you though; his loyalty and dedication are frankly a little unsettling. Sometimes you feel like the only thing in his life other than hero work. Teach this man to knit. Make him join a book club. Christ. Anything.

Does in fact have seasonal mating patterns and it’s super embarrassing.

An underwear-sniffing perv. He’ll definitely hump your pillow.

Gets a sick thrill out of breaking in and startling you. Coming up behind you in the dark, sneaking into your bed. It’s probably his worst habit, and even he hates that he does it. If you get better at detecting him he’ll be so proud. Land a slap on him and he’ll be a horny mess.

Dog-whistles at you. Often from rooftops, and you have no idea where he is but you know he’s leering.

He will call you a lot of really stupid pet names. He likes the way you blush when he finds a newer, stupider one. Calls you angel when he’s really far gone.

Likes to scratch you with his stubble until your skin turns raw and sensitive. If it annoys you or hurts a little? Even better. Making you squirm is his new favorite thing. Especially when going down on you. Your inner thighs are always exfoliated.

His cock is average in every respect. This is not a bad thing. He knows how to please you with every totally normal inch of that cock. He has some kind of homing beacon installed on your sensitive spots.

Goes absolutely insane for blowjobs. Any time, any place.

Likes to bend you around in all kinds of positions with an assist from his feathers to hold up an ankle here, an arm there. Get used to floating mid-coitus. It just seems to happen.

Spanky.

His number one priority is making you feel adored and at home in his bed. Ohhhhh he likes to make you smile. But if you encourage him to get pushy and dominant with you, you will have a good, good time.

He’s switchy, and will lose his shit if you initiate or take control. Again, he’s always horny for you, because he can finally let go. Breathe in his direction and he’s hard.

Doesn’t moan much, but Babe, he’s a dirty talker. He’s not smooth or deliberate about it, it’s more like he can’t fucking believe you let him do whatever he wants to you. You like that huh? Like he’s in stages of shock. He’s singing your praises to high Heaven and muttering oh shit oh shit oh shittttttt and laugh-crying as he cums. He never talks about his feelings; he fucks about them.

After. Care. King. He loves pampering and clucking over you anyway, this is simply another excuse to do it. He knows exactly how much water you drink in a day. Can’t take care of himself for shit, but you? You’ll never have a need he won’t try to fill. What’s all that hero work for if not this? Yeah, soak it up. You deserve it.

#hawks #takami keigo #hawks headcanons #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #gender neutral #smut #bnha #mha #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x reader #fred writes #no idea why I’m writing these #guess I’m just in a Mood

[mammons-tax-returns]

The brothers with an MC that's obsessed with their hips HCs please! Like constantly touching their waist and cant help but looking if they're wearing a tight shirt

THE BROTHERS REACTING TO AN MC OBSESSED W/ THEIR HIPS

sheeeesh, id be too :).

this post is just “the brothers getting the appreciation they deserve and forgetting about their self hatred for a sec”

✖️ GENDER NEUTRAL MC ✖️

Unsurprisingly, he catches on pretty quickly.

At first, it kind of catches him off guard. His waist/hips aren’t normally the thing people tend to flatter him for. But it’s not like he hates it. He actually loves it.

He’s literally a goth mom that stays wearin his corset vests. MC deffo has a field day when he wears his fancy getup.

If MC is too scared to put their hands on him but wants to, he’ll most definitely notice, and encourage it when they’re alone.

He’s not one to dress FOR someone else, but it’s worth wearing a tight-fitted shirt if that means he gets a reaction out of MC.

Every time he catches their stare, he smirks and pushes his massive coat aside oh-so-casually. Just enough to give them what they want.

He notices the staring, but thinks nothing of it. After all, he’s not a model for nothing, right?

One day, MC lets a comment about it slip, intentionally or not.

Mammon is reduced to ash. That is the end of him. RIP.

He’s never the same.

Before, the attention from modeling was just a side effect of being naturally handsome. A downside of it, even.

But now, his favorite human EVER has a FAVORITE part of him that they love? Because they pay attention to him that much?

And to him, that’s the best feeling in the world. If they like that part of him, he feels proud of having it. And proud that he wears a thin shirt and cropped jacket everyday.

One time, he brought them to one of his shirtless photoshoots.

Bad idea. The entire time, he was slightly flushed and shaky from their adorable reaction to seeing him.

UGH I LOVE HIM HES SO SWEET.

It all started with that damned photo of him in a towel. We know the one.

Levi is very aware of everyone’s eyes on him.

So he gets super flustered when MC watches him for a prolonged amount of time.

But because of that big jacket of his, they have to eventually ask, “Have you ever considered just wearing a t-shirt? Maybe a long sleeved shirt?”

He’s confused, but changes into a slim fit long sleeve.

When MC continues to stare at him intently, he can feel himself shrink a little in embarrassment.

“Y-You’re silently judging me, aren’t you? Ahhh, forget it! This is exactly why Iive in the comfort of my jacket...”

It takes lots of encouragement, but he finally understands that MC does NOT feel revolted just by looking at him.

While he won’t give up wearing his jacket, he takes it off when the two are alone and playing video games.

His favorite thing in the world is allowing them to wrap their arms around his waist while he plays his video games.

Just like Mammon, it gives him butterflies thinking that someone loves his body when he can’t do it himself.

Satan also notices the stares, but writes it off as nothing important similarly to Mammon.

He’s a bookworm. He could care less about his appearance when he’s immersed in the tragic downfall of history’s greatest knights.

But he finds it a bit... Cute? Endearing? Just the thought that something so irrelevant to himself is so captivating to this human nowhere near his power level.

In his mind chock-full of thousands of years of book reading, he envisions it as a rabbit falling in love with a wolf for its triangular ears.

He’s a little off put by the idea of them touching them in such a place, but in the moment, he understands it completely.

MC’s touch is gentle but firm— loving, is what it is.

Being the avatar of wrath has many downsides. Including being avoided at all costs by so many people, even by his own brothers at some points.

So it feels great to just feel absolutely adored by someone.

We been knew.

He’s the embodiment of want. So he knows all about it. ‘It’ being the way MC discreetly sneaks glances at him from across the room.

And he goes wild for it.

He brings it up casually. Almost too casually.

“Look at how close we’re sitting MC~ I’m practically on top of you. But be careful, who knows what I’d do if you kept staring like that...”

Asmo is just waiting for the moment MC makes a move. He wants to see what it looks like for them to finally stop holding back. The mere thought of it gets his adrenaline pumping.

And as the two are posing for a selfie together, their hands instinctively go to his sides.

MC doesn’t even realize that they haven’t moved their hands even after the photo. They only realize when Asmo puts his hands over their own, smiling innocently.

“You’re too cute, MC...”

One thing that Asmo starts suggesting is slow dancing. Just the two of them, in his room swaying to the sound of his slow song playlist.

Simply enjoying each other to the tune of vintage ballroom rythms never seemed so beautiful.

Beel has a body that many would go great lengths for. It doesn’t quite resonate with him, because eating well and exercising is just his thing. They’re hobbies.

While he gets lots of compliments about it (particularly from Asmo), he doesn’t think about the curves and edges of his frame very much. He only thinks about what muscles require what stretches and workouts.

And unfortunately, he doesn’t notice any of MC’s affection for his hips.

The prolonged hugs, the staring and flushed complexion. To him, it’s all part of their friendship.

Even if they outright say, “Beel. Ur thiccness is very good.”

It doesn’t hit him very hard. He’s like yea? And? 😌🤚

However, he does have a bit of internalized insecurities about his looks. It’s not necessarily his body, but how others react to... Him.

How many times has he met someone and they didn’t look the slightest bit intimidated? Exactly. He has a resting bitch face on an athlete’s body when he’s one of the sweetest demons alive.

So yes. He is insecure. But when MC finds even the most insignificant things about him to be endearing, it reminds him that, even for a second, he can be loved in his own skin.

Just like his twin, he doesn’t particularly care for the way his body looks. Especially to others.

He couldn’t care less of what negative things anyone had to say about him, anyways. Been there, done that.

But he can’t help but notice the electricity buzzing through his tired limbs when MC keeps a lingering hand around his sides.

It’s a little odd, he notes. That such a small gesture causes his body to react like that. But it’s pleasant, he’ll admit.

And then he notices just how often it happens. Even when they’re not cuddling. MC will have a hand on his waist, for even a moment.

“MC, do you like touching me there? You don’t do it to anyone else, I’ve noticed.”

They are embarrassed— mostly because they never really realized they were doing it. As soon as they go to apologize, Belphie lets out his sweet giggle.

“It’s okay. I actually like it... It’s cute that you do it so absentmindedly.”

#obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me gender neutral mc

[mutants-and-soldiers]

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

Like, comment and reblogs are always welcome! Thanks for reading!

#a/b/o verse #alpha!steve x omega!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #eventual smut #kink negotiation #therapy #mutants #fanfiction

[synnthamonsugar]

Savathun's Trip to the Last City

Now that we have a clearer picture of what’s going on with Savathun I decided to compile the last year’s worth of her POV lore pieces together.

This is super long, and has spoilers for Path of the Splicer VI / Beneath the Endless Night VII, so I’m putting it under a cut.

Credit to @xivuuarath for reading through this and adding some of their ideas! We talked about more beyond what’s posted here, but this is getting long, so maybe that would be better saved for a part two.

1. Traveler's Chosen (Season of Arrivals)

This piece is told from the POV of a narrator viewing the events through an "ossific den". Based on later lore pieces, I'm certain the narrator is Savathun. Given that ahamkara bones have been compromised by her, and that Shaxx has an ahamkara skull slung up in his station, it’s safe to assume this is Sav’s vantage point.

That said, I don't believe Savathun is observing Shaxx, but rather Zavala, struggling in the wake of the Darkness' encroachment on the system and his colleagues' refusals to evacuate to safety. She seems pleased to find Zavala in a desperate state, and watches as he has a silent conversation with the Traveler. Of note is that she's waiting for it to respond.

He waits for a response and I do as well, tense, curious. [ . . . ] It is no time at all for me, but for him, the hours creep by in silence.

I am ready to choke the voice of his Traveler if it answers him, but there is nothing.

2. Harbinger Mission (Season of the Hunt)

Thank you to @xivuuarath​ for pointing this out since I didn’t include it the first time around. During the Harbinger mission Savathun’s forces are attempting to secure a Shard of the Traveler in the EDZ. Of note is that they aren’t trying to destroy it, but rather siphon the Light from it.

Given that the Shard of the Traveler is what allowed our Guardian to jumpstart their Light when they lost it during the Red War, and is what allowed Uldren Sov to break into the Dreaming City during the events of Forsaken, we can assume it’s useful to lightbearers and mortals alike. Make note of this, because it becomes potentially relevant later on.

2.5. Hawkmoon (Season of the Hunt)

From an unknown vantage point, Savathun watches The Guardian and Crow celebrate their defeat of her Taken at the Shard of the Traveler. Unlike Zavala, she can find no weak points in Crow or the Guardian, only happiness. This awakens something in her.

What is this feeling? I did not ask for it. I do not understand it. I do not want it.

Which gets repeated throughout the lore piece. This is our first glimpse of Savathun having feelings that don't fall into the range of "malevolence" or "plotting". She yearns for her youth with her siblings and the warmth of her old life, and feels burgeoning regret for the people she betrayed.

There is a growing kinship here. Against better judgment.

This is ambiguous enough to be a comment on Crow’s and The Guardian’s relationship, or herself and The Guardian and/or Crow. She's called us her friend before but this might be the first time she's actually had friendly feelings for us.

3. Books of Sorrow: New Verse (Season of the Hunt)

This hasn't actually been posted on Ishtar Collective and I'm too lazy to track down a transcript online, so pardon the source. There's a lot to unpack here.

I walk in a city made of delicate hopes.

Savathun has moved beyond occupying ahamkara bones and is actually physically present.

I hear my name everywhere. [. . .] The sound is nourishment.

Imbaru machine on-line?

I am more than I ever was, and less than I will ever be.

Make note of this line.

I am many and none. I'm a man who sits alone in a cavernous office counting my failures. I'm a woman looking at a silent god. I'm a lost soul on a cold moon. I'm a broken mirror of a man who tries to steer the ship.

Comparing (?) herself to Zavala, Ikora, Eris, and back to Zavala again?

I'm a familiar stranger, flitting between them all, hiding my face.

Again, I think she's speaking literally here.

The people here are small krill dwarfed by the enormity of oblivion.

A neat little comparison of humanity with the krill, who we established in her last appearance she's beginning to feel regret for.

4. Retrofuturist (Season of the Chosen)

Savathun watches a Crucible match, and judges Guardians for being reckless with the gift of immortality. The tone of this piece reinforces the idea she is actually out and about in a corporeal form.

I'm mostly interested in her perspective on Ghosts here. She calls them "A perfect being", and describes their ability to revive the dead as miraculous. She isn't happy that the spectators don't appreciate the gravity of this. Weird sentiment for a hive but ok.

I look up into the blank white face. I feel its Light on my cheeks. It no longer burns me.

The Hive are repelled by the Light. Savathun has grown to tolerate it. Something has changed in her metaphysical composition.

@xivuuarath​ made the excellent observation that she might have been at least partially successful in the Harbinger mission - that she may have secured enough Light to build up an immunity, allowing her to be physically present in the City without being hurt by the Traveler.

Each revival is a choice. I know what to do.

Tuck this away for a moment.

5. Beneath the Endless Night: VII - Ripe (Season of the Splicer)

Okay this whole page is insane so excuse the massive infodump here.

I walk through the City on broken legs. I am conspicuous, but the people here grant me many affordances. I chose this form well.

Confirmation that our girl is actually bumping about in a human-form.

I open my eyes and search the faces of the people around me for familiarity. I did not mean to. I twist inwardly with disgust.

She's sympathizing with the humans of the City. She does not like this, but she is!

When they first reached for me, I reached back in acid mockery, and they opened themselves to me in stupid, naked innocence. I was giddy. My fingers raked their minds. I forced my will through them using only words and met no resistance.

Now I reach as often as they do, and when they reach back, I am thankful. I speak with them. I seek their company. Their companionship.

In case it wasn’t obvious already, Savathun has been running a psy-op on the residents of the Last City, which may explain some of the particularly erratic and troubling behavior from individuals / groups this season.

However the interesting thing is, while Sav used her powers of suggestion to manipulate, the humans unknowingly manipulated her in return. Not through any magic - simply through their kindness.

Savathun is doing more than observing the people of the Last City, she is living with them, getting to know them. Savathun is making friends and it’s literally changing her.

This is not pity, for I know pity. What is this—

A call back to the Hawkmoon lore with her trying to make sense of budding positive feelings.

I clench the gangling black mass that threatens to unspool recklessly from within this shell of flesh. My new arms are too thin, too weak. My new shell still bound with thick mucus. Not yet, I say.

I suspect that the “new shell” she talks about here is not her human-form, but rather something else growing inside it.

A man places his hands on me, on my shoulders, on my back. He asks if I am ill, and he sees my flat eyes, my teeth black with ripeness, and he prepares to scream. I let him keep his mind. I push breath up and through my ruined mouth and speak a simple lie. He stops, smiles, laughs. Shakes his head. He points a finger at me in mocking admonishment before walking away.

A few things to unpack here.

Savathun is physically deteriorating... badly. @xivuuarath pointed out that the body horror of this particular scene mirrors the Emissary’s description of a world with no darkness and creatures that are incapable of death even as they physically fall apart, and if you follow that line of thinking you may infer that she’s forcing herself to live through light alone.

She's approachable enough that some rando would see her in trouble and want to help her, reinforcing the point that she's been wandering about the City and vibing with its residents.

She could have done worse to the good samaritan but chooses not to. She does her mind trick and lets him go about his business. She’s showing mercy... which is something we know the hive absolutely must not do at the risk of being consumed by their worm.

Even here, basted in deception both ample and rich, the Worm cries ravenously. It has grown grotesque, skin taut, overfed, and still it howls for more. It commands me to keep it alive.

I look up, beyond the flickering net of darkness, and see what rests just beyond. Waiting for me. The Worm roars.

NOT DISCONCERTINGLY AMBIGUOUS AT ALL that we don't know if the worm is roaring in terror, pleading or triumph.

TL;DR of what I think is going on.

Savathun came to the City to destabilize it through manipulation, but could not be physically present until she hardened herself to the Light. Camouflaging herself in a human form, she spent time with the residents of the City, and found herself manipulated in return by their kindness. She's resisting the positive emotions, but they're there, which is something we've never seen between hive and humans before. You can't have a crisis of conscience if you don't have a conscience, and Savathun does.

I think Savathun is trying to shed her current form and be reborn in some capacity. I think she's going to try to use the Light to rid herself of the Worm and bootstrap herself into something new. If you'd asked me before reading this lore, I would have insisted that she wanted to become a thought-entity, but the cocoon-like imagery makes me second-guess this assumption.

There are outstanding questions at this point.

Why did she want to prevent Eris and/or The Guardian from communicating with the Darkness in Season of Arrivals? Is there a purpose to the Endless Night beyond eroding willpower and sowing division? Is she trying to save only herself, or attempt to undo the millennia-old injustice she inflicted on her people?

#destiny #destiny spoilers #savathun #hive #beneath the endless nightblogging #im glad ttp now has a challenger for lore pieces for me to obsess over.

[evolutionsvoid]

Flegor [flee-gohr] Alias: Fleaman, Bug-Saw, Jitters Date Discovered: April 5th, 1955 Place of Origin: United States   Notable Stomping Grounds: United States, Mexico, Canada   Height: 80 feet Length: 80 feet Biology: Flegor is a flea that has been turned into a kaiju through exposure to Yamaneon. The circumstances of his transformation aren't fully known, though some suggest he may have been aboard a lab rat that was used in Yamaneon experiments and wound up being collateral damage. Though this tiny parasite has been turned giant, he still carries many of the traits of his kind. The powerful limbs that give fleas such an incredible jump have been boosted by his transformation, allowing him to launch his massive bulk with ease. A tough exoskeleton allows him to take a hefty amount of punishment from attackers, and from any time he doesn't stick the landing. The combs and bristles that once adorned his body have hardened and sharpened, forming nasty spikes. These aren't the only pointy parts of him, as sections of his exoskeleton have formed razor sharp blades. All these sharpened bits can serve as weapons and defense on their own, but an unique part of his anatomy allows him to utilize them in different ways. With flexible segments of his specially arranged exoskeleton and the help of his internal setup, Flegor is capable of expanding and contracting his body laterally. When cornered, he can swell his body to give himself a bigger profile, as well as cause his spiked hairs to radiate outwards for a spiny defense. In times of escape, he can instead compress himself into a thinner form, allowing him to squeeze through tight spots and make him a smaller target to hit. This compression can be combined with his sharp blades and powerful jump to turn him into a living saw, spinning through the air to slice through any obstacle in his path. This change is not a permanent one, as he is using his muscles to cause this shift. Eventually these muscles grow strained and tired, so he must relax his body and return to his normal size. Flegor also possesses a sharpened proboscis, though he no longer uses it for feeding but as a desperate weapon in close quarters. It has been noted that one of Flegor's eyes is quite larger than the other. It is currently believed it was an abnormality Flegor had before he was transformed.     Flegor's kaiju powers include: - Super strength - An enhanced healing factor - Immunity to radiation - Lateral compression/expansion Personality: While many kaiju can be described as "frightening," Flegor is seen more as a "frightened" creature. He is extremely nervous, always checking his surroundings and never sitting still. He tends to twitch and fidget about, with this behavior becoming more prevalent as his stress grows. His panicked behaviors are increased when he is faced with open spaces and areas with no cover. He is terrified of such exposed places, so much so that some have claimed he is kenophobic. When forced into such an area, be it from fleeing a fight or trying to reach a better habitat, he becomes paranoid and terrified of the idea of being caught in this unescapable place. He is very jumpy and constantly looking around for threats, all while trying to leave this horrible place as fast as possible. While open spaces cause him stress, he finds solace in areas that are cluttered and full. Forests and cities are sanctuaries to him, as he feels most calm whilst hiding amongst the tall buildings or trees (though he may stick out a little). His frantic nature tones down when he is in these areas, allowing him to show a more curious side. In this sanctuary, he will move about and inspect his environment on a regular basis, either curious of his surroundings or ensuring that everything is as it should be. By contracting his body, he can squeeze through the trees and streets without causing too much damage, but that doesn't account for the things trampled underfoot or if another kaiju is pursuing him. Unfortunately, Flegor's habitats do not last forever, as larger kaiju may scare him from his forest home, and humans aren't too fond of a giant flea zipping through their neighborhood. Eventually he will be pushed out, and the terrified kaiju will be forced to find a new haven. When it comes to other kaiju, Flegor often wants nothing to do with them. Such creatures are big, loud and territorial, which are not appealing traits for this nervous flea. When one of these massive beasts make an appearance, Flegor is quick to vacate the premises. He will even run from more peaceful kaiju if he encounters them in an exposed area, as he is too scared to take any chances. His avoidance of other kaiju means that Flegor rarely takes part in battle. He prefers to launch himself away from a threat, or scurry away as fast as possible. Only when he is cornered or trapped will he fight back, but this just for the chance to escape. In these cases, he will use his jumping legs to fire himself at an opponent and tear at them with his razor-tipped body. If he can't go around, he will go through. In tight spaces where he can't jump, he will go for the "puffed up and pointy" method, hoping to discourage attack with his spiny hairs. If the foe is tripped up from this trick, it may create an opening for him to flee. While Flegor has no desire to cause destruction or death, his panicked escapes can still cause quite a bit of damage. His thin body can help him slip through the skyline, but the enraged opponent barreling after him is rarely so careful. His mighty leaps tend to shake and shatter the ground he shoots off from, which also happens to the places he comes crashing down on.   Though terrified by practically any threat, there are some kaiju out there that Flegor seems to trust. Flegor appears to have an affinity for kaiju who possess thick coats, especially mammalian beasts. Hairy kaiju are not seen as a threat but as a companion or protector. When Flegor encounters a furred beast, he will follow them around and stick close by. He does not need to be acknowledged or accepted, as long as the other kaiju does not attack him, he will be happy to hang around. When following one of these kaiju, Flegor will lose some of his nervousness, finding comfort in something familiar to his past life. While these hangouts may last for a while, they are not forever. Eventually this kaiju may travel somewhere that Flegor does not want to go, or they may grow tired of this skittering shadow and chase him off. These separations sadden him, but he does not appear to hold a grudge. He certainly remembers each of these "companions" and he will try to accompany them again if he meets back up with them, regardless if they were the ones who drove him away. An interesting note about this behavior is that these are the only times Flegor has been seen actively participating in a fight. If he is following a trusted kaiju and they are attacked, Flegor will actually try to help in the fight. No one is really sure if the presence of a companion gives Flegor courage to battle or if he is trying to protect his "friend." He will try his best to fend off this foe, though if a battle goes south he may scurry away, either in shame or fear. With him only fighting when another kaiju is beside him and his smaller size, people often joke that Flegor is some kind of sidekick or crazed assistant. This behavior has caused people to wonder if it is possible to permanently partner Flegor up with a hairy and welcoming kaiju, one who would not chase him away or travel where he is uncomfortable. If the humans can find one that is peaceful and relatively stationary, then perhaps Flegor can at last find a safe and happy home.       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This nervous little fellow is for @tyrantisterror ‘s A.T.O.M Create A Kaiju Contest 3-D! I participated in the last contest and had an absolute blast with it, so I was eager to join in on the fun this year! Fleas are such neat critters with some weird bodies, so I tried to use some of that for this little guy. I also found the idea of a tiny parasite turning into a giant an interesting one, as this setting has them sustained off of natural energy over actual food. With no need to eat, and no bigger beasts to latch onto, a parasite like Flegor would pretty much be lost in this new world. It was a neat thought, which led to this poor fella. Hopefully he finds a good home or friend!     For anyone interested, here is the link to the contest! tyrantisterror.tumblr.com/post…

#flea #insect #kaiju #create a kaiju contest #monster #creature #art #drawing

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 5

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Wrong Answer

Readers who have read novels such as transmigration, quick transmigration, and system plotlines, know that if the fate of the character in the story must be changed, it should be prevented before the character's tragic fate has occurred. However, Song Qingshi interpreted this as the event having already occurred, and was meant to save the character who had already suffered a tragic fate. This train of thought meant that his decision was a thousand miles off.

In the original book, Yue Wuhuan only appeared three times:

The first time was when the shou protagonist had just been sold to Golden Phoenix Manor. When he saw the unbearable scene of Yue Wuhuan being played with by the guests, his three views shattered.

The second time was when the protagonist's naive illusion of the future was destroyed and he was forced to accept his identity because of the ridicule and humiliating remarks of Yue Wuhuan.

The third time, Yue Wuhuan was taken out by Jin FeiRen on the Langgan stage to treat the guests and was accidentally torn to pieces by the demon tiger. Jin FeiRen concealed the actual explanation of the demon tiger's madness and treated it as a deliberately arranged game for the banquet. With this extreme fear, he shattered the last trace of the protagonist's dignity, making him completely surrender and become a plaything.

In short, Yue Wuhuan was a small supporting role with little substance, leaving the plot early, using his degeneracy to offset the beauty of the protagonist. His beauty was only like that of a beautiful flower that was about to wither. How can it be compared with the pure and clean flower bud that had not yet bloomed in the dawn?

This was a super simple multiple-choice question that every reader could figure out!

If the system was a living thing and watching over the exam being taken, it would be so angry that it would have come out and beaten that foolish Song Qingshi to death.

Scholar-Tyrant Song didn't know that he had drifted so far from the original goal, but he was still eagerly confident, trying to do his best and vowing to get a perfect score!

On the way back to the Valley of the Medicine King, Song Qingshi had recalled all the memories of his original body and integrated it with its massive knowledge of medicine and alchemy. There were rare and exotic herbs and miraculous medicines in the cultivation world. However, similar to traditional Chinese medicine, even if the medicine worked wonders, the science behind the effects of these medicines was still a mystery.

Modern medicine conducts systematic research on traditional Chinese medicine to find out the monarch-minister-auxiliary relationship within its components, extracted the useful ingredients in each concoction, and then developed medicine that was easier to take and had even better results.

A female scientist won the Nobel Prize for this, benefiting the world. Song Qingshi focused on modern medicine, leaped away from the traditional path of immortality, and quickly found new ideas for solving problems for many areas that the original body had failed to properly study. He used the Tiangong Pavilion to make modern scientific instrument substitutes, and then analyze the effective ingredients in the immortal medicines, purify them, research them, and even artificially synthesize them. . .

In Song Qingshi's mind, there were countless experimental schemes in an endless stream, and there were tens of thousands of books and inexhaustible medicinal materials in the Medicine King's Valley, as well as abundant research funds.

He was overjoyed, like a mouse that fell into a vat of rice. He wanted to kiss the system if he could.

Song Qingshi fully understood why the original body lived here, staying in such a cultivation paradise. He could live here for the rest of his life!

He could immerse himself in the ocean of intense studying and research every day. He could dedicate his life and soul to his favourite medical god. No one could send him back!

Song Qingshi looked at Yue Wuhuan in his arms. The more he looked at him, the more he loved him.

This was the big treasure that had given him everything! He would do everything he could to save him, just like his parents used to treat him before; indulged, spoiled, loved, and giving him all the good things he needed so that he can live a happy life like a prince in a fairy tale!

Song 'a father's love is like a mountain' Qingshi was full of ambition. He suppressed his excitement and immediately placed Yue Wuhuan in the side hall of his bedroom. He did everything by himself. First, he poured the elixir carefully with the crane-mouthed pot to re-invigorate the breath of life. Then he changed into white clothes, put on a homemade mask, and found a pair of extremely thin animal leather gloves. After he finished disinfecting the wounds, gently cut off the blood-soaked gauze and feather skirt on Yue Wuhuan's body with scissors, rinsed the wounds, and then sutured them with very fine silkworm thread. Then, he cut off the shackles and treated his ankle wounds.

Song Qingshi's movements were extremely gentle and quick, barely touching any skin, but Yue Wuhuan's body was extremely sensitive. He twitched slightly and groaned a few times before falling asleep again. Song Qingshi took the opportunity to take some blood samples for analysis, and also performed a full-body scan of him with his mental probe. He was a good-tempered person, but after seeing the disastrously ruined dantian and meridians in Yue Wuhuan's body, he couldn't help but curse darkly at those beasts. He scolded them repeatedly, thinking about how he was going to explain this situation to him once he woke up.

Song Qingshi was not good at communicating with strangers. He was able to make do when discussing his interests, but his thoughts often went blank when forced into small talk. For example, when everyone watched the popular men's group selection variety show together and argued over who was the male god?

He answered sincerely that it was Asclepius, the god of medicine. . .

Song Qing hasn't understood why everyone said he killed the conversation.

He thought hard for a long time and remembered that when his Lou Gerhig's hadn't been as advanced, he worked in a hospital for an internship. His senior brother knew that Song Qinshi was afraid of social interaction and would end up a stuttering mess when he tried to have conversations with his patients. He taught Song Qingshi: "Push down all of your feelings and act like a medical machine. First write down their case in detail and their treatment plan, recite it with a smile, and then end with a comforting sentence." Song Qingshi took this secret technique, practiced many times in front of the teacher, and, finally, he could talk to patients without fear.

A hospital is a place for treatment, just like how the Medicine King's Valley is a place for treatment. What's the difference?

After Song Qingshi had this epiphany, he replaced Yue Wuhuan’s bed sheets and bedding with the white ones commonly used in hospitals. He ordered the valley servant to make several sets of patient clothes, put them on by himself, and then tied roots on his wrist to represent the hospital information band. With a red wristband and a sign on the bed with "Special Care" and the instructions for how to care for him, Song Qingshi instantly felt calm in this makeshift hospital environment.

He wasn't comfortable with the type of care that the valley servantswere giving and took on nursing himself. He was careful and not afraid of getting tired. He wiped down Yue Wuhuan's body and washed his face, fed him medicine and water, and even replaced the bedding to deal with all kinds of filth.

When Yue Wuhuan woke up three days later, he was confused. He didn't know where he was. He stared at the white veil on the top of the bed in a daze for a long time. He finally realized that he was still alive and he hadn't been this relaxed in a long time.

He closed his eyes, faintly recalling the slight fragrance of medicine lingering from his dream and the hands that had gently released all the restraints for him. He took a deep breath. He didn't want to wake up and face the never-ending nightmare.

After who know's how long, Yue Wuhuan threw his eyes open, remembering where he had smelled the fragrance of the medicine. He slowly turned his head and looked at the round table next to him, but saw that Medicine Master Xianzun was attentively making changes to the cursive writings on the table. He was frowning, his expression serious, as if thinking about something bad. There was also a familiar spirit bead in the silver plate next to him, and it became obvious that he had been given to another guest to be played with.

Yue Wuhuan’s phoenix eyes shrank. The rumors of the perverse and evil deeds of the Medicine Master Xianzun appeared in his mind, but he was not afraid. Whether he was willing or unwilling meant nothing under the control of the spirit bead. Besides, his broken body was no longer worthy of being cherished. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and struggled to get out of bed, but a sharp pain came from his shoulder, which made him dizzy and he fell right back down. Song Qingshi never had any distractions when he was researching. He heard the movement and found that the patient was awake. He was afraid that Yue Wuhuan might have moved his body and reopened the wound. He quickly reprimanded him with a stern tone: "You, go to bed right away! You are not allowed to get off for ten days!"

This stern technique was a secret taught by the head nurse of the hospital. It had a good effect on treating patients who didn't follow the doctor's advice.

"Ten days?" Yue Wuhuan was stunned. He couldn't help but look at Song Qingshi up and down. The more he looked, the more he felt that his appearance was deceiving. He had been with guests for many years, and he was used to seeing many lustful scenes, but he never would've guessed that this person had such prowess in the bed. . .

Seeing that he hadn't gotten back on the bed, Song Qingshi put down his pen, walked over and picked him up with his own hands.

Yue Wuhuan remained unmoved, stretched out his hand and gently hugged his neck. Hot fingertips touched his cool skin, as smooth as cool jade, and the clear and clean scent of medicine wrapped around him gently like if he was in a dream. Yue Wuhuan couldn't help but shake for a moment. He chasticized his heart for still not knowing how to behave, then resumed his usual posture, and breathed out ambiguously: "I hope that Xianxun will take pity. . ."

"Don't worry, I will." Song Qingshi put him back on the bed carefully, then pulled the blanket up. He wrapped him up tightly, and solemnly told him, "The valley is wet and cold. You have a mortal body so be careful of the cold and stay under the blanket. Keep your hands and feet tucked in and don’t kick off the sheets."

Yue Wuhuan had never seen this trick in bed before and was at a bit of a loss.

"You;re a patient now. Let me tell you about your situation." Song Qingshi turned back to the table, picked up a stack of paper covered with words. He nervously pushed the non-existent glasses on the bridge of his nose, and read with a smile, formulating his tone. "The patient is Yue Wuhuan. There are three lacerations from the right shoulder to the chest, which are 18 cm, 14 cm and 12 cm long. The right shoulder bone is fractured, and the suprascapular artery has been ruptured. The right elbow has a skin contusion. The left and right wrists have skin tissue bruises, the left and right knees are bruised along with the left and right ankle tissue. The buttocks skin has soft tissue lacerations. There are signs of drug abuse in the body and potentially drug addiction. Do you understand?"

Yue Wuhuan only felt that his stiff smile must look increasingly forced. The more he thought about it, the crazier everything seemed. All he could do was nod his head and pretendto understand.

"Very good." Song Qingshi felt that what he said was both detailed and easy to understand, and began to recite the preliminary treatment plan. "Your dantian and meridians have been destroyed, and your body is seriously damaged. Your body is too fragile right now to use stronger medicine, so you cannot take Rejuvenation Pill, Gather Breathe and Disperse Pill, All Creation Pill or the Bone Growth Pill. You need to be treated with mortal medicine first, and then treated with the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath. Then you'll take the Rising Dragon Pill and Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill."

Yue Wuhuan finally understood what he was saying. These pills were common immortal medicines, and he had also taken it when he was seriously injured.

The All Creation Pill and Rising Dragon Pill were worth thousands, and he had heard that the poster of Jape Pearl Tower's Lord had used it for his own treasure.

He didn't know what the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath was, but the Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill was the treasure of the immortal world. It is made of ten thousand year-old blood lotuses. There were only nine in the world and only few know where their locations. He only knew that the master of Xuanji Palace had used it and ascended to Fen Shen; the lord of Fluttering Snow Fortress turned against his Daoist companion and killed him and his wife to win the treasure; one appeared in the Qizhen Pavilion auction, and it was won by the owner of the East Sea Langya Pavilion with hundreds of thousands of high-grade spirit stones. For some reason, Jin FeiRen wasn't able to participate in the auction. He always brought it up as one of the greatest regrets in his life.

If it were described in mortal terms, it would be like saving a beggar on the side of the road and saying that you would give him precious delicacies, golden houses, jade horses, and billions in wealth. FInally, you tell him you'll give him the fade seal of the country and all lands under the heavens. Only an idiot would believe these claims.

Yue Wuhuan laughed but his heart was cold. He basically confirmed that Song Qingshi was just toying with him.

He had also encountered many such sweet talkers, pretending to show compassion for some and pity for others. All he wanted, though, was to coax his slaves to play this game with him. He only lusted after his dirty body, in the end.

Song Qingshi finished off with some final closing words: "Don't worry, as long as you follow the doctor's advice and cooperate with the treatment, you'll be cured."

"Okay," Yue Wuhuan's phoenix eyes showed a bit of flattery, and he replied in a sultry voice: "This slave depend on Xianzun for everything. . ."

"I almost forgot." Song Qingshi looked into his eyes and suddenly remembered something. He put on the animal skin gloves again, picked up a luminous bead the size of a goose egg and placed it in a strange, long, tube-shape lampshade. Then he sat on the side of the bed, leaned over and looked at Yue Wuhuan. He gave him a serious warning: "This may be a little uncomfortable, please bear with me."

Yue Wuhuan smiled self-deprecatingly. He let the phoenix eyes show waves of desire, and he relaxed his body, waiting to be played with.

Song Qingshi stretched out his hand and opened his eyes, illuminating the inside of the eyes with the luminous bead. He carefully observed for a while, then whispered: "The problem of the lacrimal secretion system is not visible on the outside, so I still have to do a colored dye inspection..."

Yue Wuhuan: "???"

#mistakenly saving the villain #mistakenly saving the villain translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel #song qinshi #yue wuhuan

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

good morning!!! nomu anon here (also nemoto and normal couple yanderes anon lmao) i was thinking about nomus again and... what if we know nomu’s human form before they turn to a nomu? like, maybe they have a crush on us while they’re human? (YES I KNOW THATS SO ANGSTY BUT MAYBE WE CAN HAVE A GOOD ENDING?????? jdkxnmdmdkskd and can i be an emoji anon?🦋 or 🍒 anon maybe??)

You got it!

It was strange. Despite the creature's horrific appearance--bulging eyes without lids, muscles so sinewy that they seemed to be on the verge of ripping through its skin, and an exposed brain that twitched and pulsed every so often--it had almost seemed familiar to ____.

The Nomu seemed to recognize ____ as well, if only from a small feeling in the back of their warped and primitive mind. No real thoughts came, but sensations and fragmented words did: their face feeling warm as they talked to ____ and heard her laugh...shaky hands--their hands?--holding a letter addressed to her...conversations with muted words, but strong feelings of love and warmth in their chest as they spent time together.

____ stared up at the Nomu as its mouth opened and closed, growling and muttering as if it was trying to speak. "...Y-...You...Know...You." It stepped forward and ____ let out a gasp, scrambling away until she found herself against the wall of the room she was trapped in. It didn't seem hostile, but it was hard to gauge how any wild animal will react--much less a gigantic super-powered one.

The Nomu placed a hand on its chest. "____. Know...you." It hesitated, struggling to speak and think properly. "I...Letter…" More fragments flashed through their mind: "I hope she says yes--Wait, what was that noise...who's there?" The glint of a syringe, a white lab coat, yelling for help...pain, then numbness fading to black. The last thing I hear...feet dragging on the pavement as I'm carried away, distant sound of ____ opening her door, asking if anyone was there…Her sweet voice: "Must have imagined it. Wait...what's this paper…"

____ blinked. Letter? The last time she'd gotten a letter was almost a year ago. It'd been left outside her door, and she'd thought it had been a prank. She swore she recognized the voice that she had heard crying for help, and the signature at the bottom of the letter left her more confused...and then heartbroken. She'd had a crush on her friend for months, and that bizarre love letter and fake cry for help was as hurtful as it was perplexing. They'd never returned her texts or calls after that. 

Her mind raced as she tried to piece together what the Nomu was saying. A letter...a cry for help...and now a monster acting a bit too human. Her lips parted in shock. "Are you--" she swallowed nervously-- "Are you /////?"

The Nomu's ears perked up, and its thin lips curled up around its sharp array of fangs into a grotesque smile. It nodded eagerly, slapping its own chest again. "/////! Name…Old name! My name /////." Nomu pointed at the terrified woman. "You ____. Letter." It cocked its head. "You read?"

____ nodded shakily. This whole situation had gone from terrifying to surreal; she was talking to a Nomu, and apparently it used to be a human that ____ had loved so much. "Y-yeah," she replied. She crossed her arms and looked down, trying to blink away the tears in her eyes that left her chest and throat feeling heavy. "I, um...I thought that it was just a prank," she confessed. "You know, the yell for help and then you never talking to me again just made me think you knew I liked you and wanted to mess with me." She dug her fingernails into her skin. "But you didn't. You did mean it." Her voice broke. "And...and you did cry out for help…"

The Nomu frowned and watched ____ as she started to cry. Sad. ____ sad. I make her be sad. Need make her stop cry. Make her feel better. 

When it suddenly clambered over to her at inhumanly fast speed, ____ screamed in terror as she tensed up and waited for the monster's final blow. She shut her eyes and felt its arms wrap around her tightly, the air escaping her lungs as it held her to its chest. After a moment or two, the Nomu seemed to remember its own strength and loosened its grip on them. ____ trembled and sobbed harder, whimpering when felt the Nomu's fingers gently caress her back.

"I...sorry. No cry." Its voice was a low rumble, as soft as a monster could sound. "Please. No cry."

It continued to stroke her and nuzzle her neck, trying to soothe her. She turned her head to the side to breathe freely as it comforted her in its own way. It--no, they--They moved their hand up to stroke her hair as they lifted her up to hold and rock her. 

____ sniffled and finally let her body relax as the ////-Nomu held her. It was strange how a creature designed for slaughter could be so gentle with her. She rested her head against them, hearing their heartbeat behind their massive chest. Their skin was tougher than a human's, but not necessarily hard or rough; it reminded her of tanned leather and after the initial shock of being forcibly pressed against it, it was almost comfortable.

She slowly reached up to try and return the embrace as best as she could, given her size. The ////-Nomu let out a content, animalistic coo as it nuzzled her neck again. "I didn't ever expect to see you again," she confessed quietly. "Especially not like this." She let out a soft shaky sigh and was silent for a while. "...I missed you."

The ////-Nomu looked down and smiled again. "Missed...you...too."

#.bnha #nomu #.nomu #🦋 anon #yandere bnha #female darling

[stovetuna]

This is for @bardingbeedle who yelled at me in the tags and then on messenger and ultimately inspired me to write some “lorge soft steve” and tbh who am I to refuse. (also high-key inspired by this masterpiece of fanart I RBed [again] earlier today)

(takes place shortly after the events of Avengers Assemble episode 2x07, aka the best fic none of us ever wrote)

(heed the READ MORE!)

***

Tony is hustling from one meeting to the next, all but literally running into the kitchen for a cup of afternoon coffee, when he spies Steve Rogers bent over the communal living room coffee table. That in and of itself isn’t exactly outside the realm of normal Steve Rogers activities—the man does love a good brood, even if he won’t admit it and doesn’t do it as often as he used to.

But Tony wracks his brain for possible reasons why Steve would be hunched up around the shoulders like he’s expecting a body blow any minute and keeps coming up empty. Not even fresh coffee makes his synapses fire faster. Did they forget his birthday? Impossible. Did someone send Captain America hate mail? Uh, doubly impossible, especially because Tony’s got lawyers screening their mail for that kind of stuff (they’ve got more than enough pressure in their day-to-day lives, time-slip dinosaurs and age regressions notwithstanding).

Maybe Steve found a piece of upsetting news, or some fact of modern history that isn’t sitting well with him? That’s a lot more likely.

Before he can remind himself that Pepper’s waiting in his office to put him on a call with the president of MIT—something about a commencement speech, if memory serves—Tony is sauntering into the living room, nonchalant, tongue already prickling with some smart remark. He’s got it all written out in his head like a perfect line of code up until the moment he’s standing in front of Steve and sees the expression on his face.

“Whoa, who ran over your puppy?”

Tony winces, wishing for the millionth time that his mouth and his brain could work together simultaneously, but no. Worse, Steve doesn’t even answer him—he just frowns harder, if that’s even possible, and folds in on himself like his shoulders alone don’t take up half the length of the massive couch. Tony lowers the hand holding his coffee and blinks.

“Steve?”

“Oh!” Steve jumps upright, and quick as a flash moves something vaguely folder-shaped behind his back. “Tony! I didn’t hear you walk in—don’t you have a meeting right now?”

Something in Tony’s chest squeezes at the sight of that smile and at Steve’s impeccable attention to detail. But really, ever since the incident with the Time Stone, when he’d jolted back into his adult body and come to in Steve’s arms, he’s felt completely knocked off-balance. Now everything about Steve Rogers—the man, not the superhero—is a revelation. Every smile, every word, every look has Tony tripping over his own feet, tongue, thoughts. He may be back in his adult body, but he’s never felt more like a prepubescent teenager with a crush, fidgeting in place under Steve’s gaze.

“It got postponed,” he lies, because whatever has put that pinch between Steve’s eyebrows is way more important right now. “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” Steve replies, too loud and too quickly. Tony gives him a look. Steve flushes, shrinking in on himself even further, like he wants the couch to devour him. “Uh, nothing important. Just an anniversary I forgot about.”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to frown. He likes to think he’s got a solid mental calendar of important dates for all of his teammates memorized at this point—Natasha’s move-in, Bruce’s lab incident, Sam’s SHIELD acceptance, Steve being found in the ice—but none of those are today.

“Got room for one more?” Tony asks, nodding at the scant space next to Steve on the couch when the man gives him a questioning look. Steve’s cheeks immediately go a charming shade of pink, which churns the coffee in Tony’s empty stomach with a vengeance. Steve shifts to press himself against the arm as Tony moves to sit down next to him, almost crushing the folder Steve had hidden earlier in the process. There’s a gasp, and a lightning-quick hand, and then Steve, pale and breathless, is holding a manila folder against his chest like it’s the secret to the Super Soldier Serum.

It’s weird—Tony knows Steve trusts him, and vice versa. They wouldn’t have solved the riddle of the Time Stone if they didn’t trust each other. So to sit next to Steve, who’s gone from morose to terrified in the three minutes since Tony walked into the room and feel a wall between them is jarring. And upsetting. He’s only been nursing this crush for a few days, and Steve’s not that perceptive…is he? Maybe he is. Maybe this is Steve weeding out Tony’s feelings before they’ve even had a chance to grow.

Tony shakes his head at the thought. No, Steve’s a lot of things, but cruel isn’t one of them.

“Care to share with the class?” he asks, gently so he doesn’t spook Steve. It seems to work: Steve relaxes, tension falling from his shoulders as he eases into Tony’s presence. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, but keeps the folder pressed securely against his sternum. Tony tries hard not to steal a glance at the way Steve’s shirt pulls across his broad, thick chest as he breathes.

“It’s nothing.”

“Cap, if it was nothing, you wouldn’t be trying to Honey-I-Shrunk-Myself into the couch right now.”

Steve Rogers in active wear doesn’t cut quite the same figure as Steve Rogers in full Captain America regalia, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’s small. Like this, he’s just as large and has just as much presence as he does in uniform; it’s just…more human. Less Captain, more Steve. Both are devastating in their own way, but only Steve—friendly, blushing, awkward, unassuming Steve—makes Tony acutely aware of the distance between their bodies, down to the last electrified hair.

Catching his own breath, Tony puts his full mug on the coffee table and drops his hands into his lap, turning his head to watch Steve chew on whatever words are fighting to come out. Be patient, he tells himself. Whatever this is, Steve’s struggling with it, and Tony can have some tact when he wants to.

Finally, Steve closes his eyes and sighs. When he lowers his hands, the folder goes with them. Tony glances at the cover and almost swallows his tongue.

“Is that—?” Steve makes a noncommittal sound, like a ‘yes’ but softer, uncertain, like he’s not sure Tony’s reaction is a good one. Tony swallows his excitement with a wince. “Is that the Project Rebirth file? I told Fury to give it to you a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure he did.”

Tony is so preoccupied looking at the folder he doesn’t hear Steve’s gasp or notice his eyes lock onto him. “He did,” Steve replies quietly after a pause. “But that’s isn’t…that’s not what this is about.”

That’s kind of a surprise. The sudden appearance of the Project Rebirth file would explain Steve’s face and body language, but if it’s not that…

Steve hands the entire folder over to Tony without another word.

“Uh,” Tony gapes, too awestruck to achieve any kind of higher brain function.

“Look at the date,” Steve says. It’s not an order, just a gentle request, but it doesn’t prevent a shiver from rippling down the length of Tony’s spine. If he was hyperaware of the space between their bodies before, it’s even worse now with Steve leaning every-so-slightly toward him and reaching out a hand to point directly at the date written on the faded label.

22 June 1943

Tony blinks. “It’s the anniversary…of you?” He opens the folder without a second thought, and the first thing he sees is a picture of Steve. There are other things in the file—sheaves of what look like medical reports, heavily redacted memos, and carbon copies of typed letters—but the only thing Tony can focus on is Steven Grant Rogers circa 1943. The Steven Grant Rogers of before.

He’s touching the photo before he can stop himself, being so, so careful as he traces the narrow shape of the man in the photograph while the real, supersized thing sits next to him.

“It’s the first time I’ve really had a chance to sit and think about what it was like, before,” Steve says, unprompted. “Everything happened so fast once I got the serum, I didn’t have time to just…take it all in. And then I went into the ice and—well. You know the rest.”

All skin and bones, this man, back then. But the jut of his jaw is the same; the serum didn’t change that, or the flinty stubbornness in Steve’s eyes, or the proud set of his shoulders, just daring the world to try and fuck with him. Tony smiles—Steve before the serum is like a matchstick, short and thin and always one spark away from bursting into flame. He really didn’t change a bit.

When Tony finally looks up from the photo (not gazing, of course not), he sees Steve’s expression has gone pinched again, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

“Alright, there’s that face again. Out with it, Cap.”

Steve really shouldn’t bite his lip—it’s bad for Tony’s health. But Tony’s comment does get him to smile a little bit, which is good. “I guess…it’s been over seventy years since I got the serum, but most days I still feel like that skinny guy in the picture.” Tony watches him as he speaks, taking in the faraway look in Steve’s eyes, the shrinking posture, the downward turn of his mouth—who says I can’t be observant, Tony thinks—and wishes he and Steve were the kind of friends who hugged outside of catastrophic cosmic events. God knows it looks like Steve could use one, as wound up and tense as he is right now.

“I’ve broken so many things by accident because I keep forgetting I’m this, now,” he says, gesturing broadly at himself with one hand. Frowning, Steve uses that same hand to brace his forehead, elbow dropping down onto his thigh. The man is the picture of misery, and Tony aches to comfort him. It’s a physical pull in the pit of his stomach, urgent and needy—like if he doesn’t get his arms around Steve Rogers right this second, something important inside him is going to malfunction.

Tony shoves his hands under his thighs and nods. “Dr. Erskine could turn you into a super soldier,” he says softly, “but he couldn’t erase the first 27 years of your life.” He doesn’t speak his next thought aloud—that if there was in fact a way to erase those years, Tony would have signed up for the very first clinical trial. It’s a grim thought, and not something Steve needs to hear right now, but it’s been on Tony’s mind ever since his brief return to adolescence, and it’s a hard one to shake.

But what Steve heard seems to help. He peeks at Tony through his fingers and swallows loud enough even Tony can hear it.

“Yeah,” he rasps, “something like that.”

“What else?”

“What?”

“What else is bugging you? About this?”

Steve lowers his hand and stares at Tony. Stares. It’s such a feeling, being stared at by Steve Rogers, Tony can feel the heat climbing up from underneath his t-shirt. Even the arc reactor feels a bit warmer in his chest.

“How could you tell?”

“You’re still doing your level-best impression of a Shrinky Dink, Cap,” Tony replies. “Kind of hard not to notice.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Steve laughs, a hoarse, dry sound, “but you’re not wrong. I guess…I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words.”

“Try.”

Seriously, when Steve looks at him like that—like he did when Tony soared through the air as Iron Kid, all awe and pride and warmth—Tony feels capable of anything. Anything. He’d bottle that feeling, if he could, just like he’d bottle the color of Steve’s hair in the afternoon light coming in through the living room windows right now, all warm, pale yellows shot through with gold. If the photo in the file were in full color, Tony would bet his fortune Steve’s hair would be the same shade it is now.

Because Steve Rogers has always been perfect. Damn him.

“I still feel small,” Steve says, and any thoughts of hair and perfection derail abruptly. Looking into the middle-distance past his nose, he continues, “I don’t fit in this body. That doesn’t make sense, but—it’s like the super soldier is a mold, and I’m just there rattling around inside it, too small to fit. Does that—does that make any sense?” He looks at Tony imploringly, begging him with his eyes to understand. Tony feels that tug again, worse now, to wrap his arms around Steve and hold him tight. Call it returning the favor for the other day with the Time Stone, call it acting on his crush, whatever.

No one so large has ever looked as small as Steve Rogers does right now.

“It does,” Tony croaks.

“Really?”

“Really. I mean, how do you think I feel inside the suit?”

Steve makes a sound at that—not a whimper, not a gasp, but something hovering between the two that splits Tony’s heart right down the middle. “I never thought of it that way,” he whispers. “But that’s it. That’s exactly it.” Visible relief fills Steve’s lungs and makes his entire body go lax, leaning closer to Tony in the process. Tony, of course, is hyperaware of Steve’s size—everyone except Thor and Hulk is small compared to him—but now he’s equally aware of who’s operating the Cap-suit, so to speak.

“The only difference is, I can take my super-suit off,” Tony says, pinching the underside of his own thigh to cut off a laugh—Steve hasn’t seen The Incredibles yet—and continues, “you can’t. That’s bound to make a guy feel uncomfortable, even you, Mr. ‘I can handle anything you throw at me.’” He elbows Steve a little, good-naturedly, for emphasis, and gets a full, beautiful smile for his efforts.

God. Skinny or huge, Steve Rogers is gorgeous. It really shouldn’t be allowed.

“Yeah, good point.” Face still split by a smile—I put that there, Tony preens—Steve leans against the back of the couch and sighs. “There are things I miss, though. About being small. I didn’t think I did, until…” He glances at Tony, then, and there’s no missing the blush creeping up his neck.

“Until?”

“The other day,” Steve replies. “When you de-aged, and I—when we—” Tony bites his tongue so hard he’s pretty sure he tastes blood. Don’t interrupt. Let him get it out. Steve laughs breathily. “When I hugged you, I was so glad I was in a position to protect you, physically, like that. But later on I kept thinking about how much I miss being the protected one, sometimes. Not always, but. Sometimes.” Steve looks at the photo and sighs. “I keep thinking about what it felt like when ma looked after me when I was sick, or when Bucky put himself between me and the bigger guy because he knew I couldn’t take another hit…sure I resented it a little, being so weak, but I liked…that.”

“You liked being cared for.”

The look Steve levels at Tony could drive away a storm.

“Yeah,” he husks. “I did.”

“And now that you’re—” Tony waves a hand at Steve’s everything, “—this, you think you don’t, what, deserve care?”

“Maybe?” Steve blinks. “I don’t know.”

“Cap—Steve,” Tony says, putting his hands palms-up in his lap so Steve can see all of him. No threat, no judgment. “Everyone wants to feel cared for. It’s human nature. And just because you’re superhuman doesn’t mean you’re inhuman.”

Damn if those therapy sessions Pepper forced him into aren’t paying off big time right now. If the sheen in Steve’s eyes is anything to go by, Tony’s hit the nail right on the head.

“Oh,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Tony smiles. Butterflies be damned, he moves the project file onto the coffee table next to his now-cold mug and turns toward Steve. Slowly, he opens his arms. “C’mere,” he says, so quiet only Steve would hear if anyone else was around. As it is, they’re alone in the tower, and Steve doesn’t hesitate—one moment Tony’s arms are empty and the next he’s got 240 pounds of solid muscle curling into his chest and Steve’s tucking his big head under Tony’s chin like the world’s neediest Bernese mountain dog.

Thankfully, Tony’s arms are just long enough to fit all the way around Steve’s massive shoulders. And even if they weren’t, he’d find a way to make it work.

Knees knocking together, feet brushing up against each other on the carpet, Steve shifts and adjusts until he can wrap his arms around Tony’s waist. Once he settles in, he sighs right into the notch at the base of Tony’s throat. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Anytime, big guy,” Tony replies, softly with a warm smile he thinks Steve can’t see.

#bardingbeedle #steve rogers #tony stark #pre-getting together #stevetony #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #rachel writes fic #HAPPY JUNE 22 #KINDA #ignoring the fact that I'm posting this at 0130 on June 23 :3 #insecure steve rogers #insecure tony stark #tony and I see the same therapist lol #stovetuna writes #and yes 22 June is apparently the MCU date of Project Rebirth #PERFECT TIMING

[thevindicativevordan]

I talked a bit earlier about Metallo here where I went in depth into his background and also what I thought was essential to the character’s success. With that in mind I’m going to now talk about the overall arc I’d like to see Metallo undergo, as well as the type of stories I’d want to see told with him.

Stage 1: Loyal Soldier

This would be the stage of Corben’s career where he still thinks of himself as a loyal soldier and trusts his superiors and the government to look out for him. Nursing hopes that a “cure” can be found one day to allow him to take off the suit, Corben accepts the promises from General Lane that the military’s top scientists are studying him to find a way to restore him to normal. Metallo distrusts and dislikes Superman, blaming Clark for his current condition, and is unhappy that the military have brooked an uneasy truce with “the alien”. He also really doesn’t like the interest Lois seems to be taking in Superman, accusing her of being a traitor to her species, although it’s mainly just a thin disguise for his jealousy that she might prefer someone else over him. He still respects General Sam Lane even though he does resent Sam somewhat for his condition. He dislikes Lex thinking of him as an arrogant pencil pusher, and not very subtly implying that he would love a chance to kick the shit out of Lex for helping to turn him into a cyborg.

At this stage Corben is still a man bonded to a super suit that keeps him alive, more Darth Vader than the Terminator. Conflict with Kal would come from Corben working as the military’s enforcer in much the same way Vader performed for the Empire. I’d have him protecting Cadmus experiments from Superman’s interference, assaulting military targets across the globe, preparing countermeasures against Superman and other metahumans should the need arise, and protecting VIPs that the military deems crucial such as Lex or others. Corben works to further the United States goals as defined by his superiors, and doesn’t question orders. At this stage his purpose as a character is to showcase the ugly side of “The American Way”, to keep the relationship between Superman and the government tense, and to explore the darker corners of Metropolis as Superman’s fight to champion the oppressed of Metropolis inevitably cause him and Corben to trade blows, threatening the fragile accord Superman has struck with his government.

Stage 2: Going Rogue

This is where the split happens between Corben and Sam Lane. Despite promises from Sam that he would find a way to “fix” Corben, in return for Corben continuing to serve as a soldier, Metallo learns that wasn’t the full truth. The scientists who were studying him were also tasked with finding a way to replicate the technology he’s merged with, but to do so in a way that wasn’t permanent. That goal also took precedence over finding a way to separate Corben from the suit, as Sam didn’t want to separate Corben from it until he had a replacement, otherwise he’d have lost his primary safeguard to a rogue Superman. Sam wanted to make more Metallos, an army of them. This pisses Corben off because Sam didn’t tell him this, worrying that Corben would take it as the military studying for a way to replace him. Corben comes to that exact conclusion, and terrified that the military will simply dump him in a cell somewhere with the other “obsolete” tech, and not trusting Sam to have his best interests at heart anymore after discovering the cover-up, chooses to do the unthinkable: The military’s Anti-Superman weapon for if Superman ever went rogue, goes rogue himself.

Corben steals top secret military files about a variety of projects he knew about thanks to his work as a Sam’s agent: Cadmus genetic experiments, Lexcorp weapons programs, Project 7734, and gives them to the one person he knows Sam can’t bully or buy off and won’t assassinate: Lois Lane. Lois publishes these materials along with an exclusive tell-all interview with Corben, and Sam’s operations are thrown into chaos. Sam is called before Congress with many of his initiatives being shut down, Lexcorp’s stock takes a massive hit from all the bad publicity, and in the pandemonium Metallo slips out of the country. The military, Lois, Lex, and Superman all try to track the cyborg down but it proves impossible. Corben simply vanishes.

Months later Corben reappears on the scene as a mercenary for hire, working for terrorists, third world dictatorships, megacorps, and anyone else who can afford him. His goal at this stage is to acquire the money or technology to either fix his broken body or replace it with superior augmentations. He’s very bitter and angry about how he was used, and will often target Sam Lane and Lex’s international and American holdings as his subdued resentment towards the both of them for how they handled his reconstruction boils over. He considers the two of them along with Superman his greatest foes, and seeks to torment all three wherever he can.

At this stage Corben’s role as a character is to act as a foil to how Superman’s relationship with the military and the government has evolved. In the beginning Corben was the loyal tool of the government, similar to DKR Superman, but now he’s become the outlaw. So where does that leave Superman? If Clark can catch Metallo what should he do with him? Turn over to the military where he will doubtlessly be dissected in an attempt to replace him with an army of super soldiers? The stories Metallo is in now can cover a wide range, from terrorist attacks, to corporate espionage as the megacorps hire Metallo to assault their rivals in Metropolis, to transhumanism stories about Metallo’s cybernetic evolution, to much much more.

I’d have Corben gradually replace more and more of his flesh with cybernetics, but I’d avoid the cliché about “Cybernetics Eat Your Soul”. Corben’s replacement parts will ultimately not just restore his ability to feel, to taste, to smell, but enhance them. Metallo would become more superhuman thanks to his upgrades over time. The bulky suit he would wear in Stage 1 would ultimately give way to a much more streamlined look, similar to the current Rebirth design he now sports.

Stage 3: Nation-Building

This is the final stage in Metallo’s arc as I envision it. Metallo has embraced his augmentations completely, fully transitioning into a synthetic body similar to what the Vision has. His new body gives all of the senses he had as a “normal” human, but augments them far beyond what they used to be. He’s more powerful than ever, with weapons that potentially pose a threat to the planet, and has left his roots as a mercenary behind. Metallo no longer wants to be used as a tool by the powerful: Now he has his own goals and will serve no man but himself. 

At this juncture Metallo makes an announcement that shocks the world. Having acquired various technologies over his career as a merc due to his search to improve his augmentations, Metallo is able to create a small artificial island in Oceania. He declares the island to be for veterans and for outcasts, anyone who doesn’t fit in mainstream society. He specifically reaches out to soldiers who have suffered due to cybernetic or genetic experiments performed on them by their countries governments that were done with the aim of providing safeguards against “superheroes” or the Justice League invading and ousting them from power. To the shock of many, multiple veterans attempt to defect, causing uproars in Europe, Russia, China... and America. Many attempt to flee to this safe haven where Metallo promises them care and treatment for their conditions.

Superman is unnerved and unsure how to respond. Metallo remains a terrorist, a murderer, and needs to face justice. But Clark has always been wary of intervening in foreign government’s affairs, yet how is he to respond to a man who has tried to kill him multiple times essentially founding a rogue nation? He decides to investigate and discover whether this nation is what Metallo claims it is, or if it harbors some ulterior purpose. 

The main attribute explored between Superman and Metallo at this stage is Superman’s ambition and his role as Champion of the Oppressed. Metallo acquires followers because soldiers have suffered at the hands of the governments they serve, and often their suffering goes unheeded. He promises to take care of them, to do what their countries won’t. If Superman removes Metallo from power, what does he do with all these soldiers who need help? He can’t turn his back on them, even if it means angering the governments of the world, including America’s. The stories with Metallo would revolve around him building this new nation, Superman investigating the nation and exploring Metallo’s motives for building it, and the fallout of Superman getting involved. I see it as providing a long term home base for Metallo and his plans for the world that elevate him into being a major threat.

#superman #metallo #storytelling #dc comics