#7. Asset protection
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adeelseo · 11 months ago
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Safety Deposit Box
# Outline : Safety Deposit Box
1. **Introduction**
   - Definition of a safety deposit box
   - Importance of safeguarding valuables
2. **History of Safety Deposit Boxes**
   - Origins of protection deposit packing containers
   - Evolution of security features
3. **Types of Safety Deposit Boxes**
   - Bank vaults
   - Private vault facilities
4. **Benefits of Safety Deposit Boxes**
   - Secure storage
   - Protection from theft and natural failures
5. **Choosing a Safety Deposit Box**
   - Factors to take into account
   - Comparison between bank vaults and private vault facilities
6. **How to Rent a Safety Deposit Box**
   - Process of renting
   - Necessary documentation
7. **Items Suitable for Storage**
   - Valuables to preserve in a protection deposit container
   - Items not advocated for garage
8. **Safety Deposit Box Regulations**
   - Legal aspects and policies
   - Responsibilities of the container owner
9. **Maintaining Privacy and Confidentiality**
   - Confidentiality regulations of vault centers
   - Personal privacy issues
10. **Accessing Your Safety Deposit Box**
    - Authorized get admission to methods
    - Emergency access protocols
11. **Insurance for Safety Deposit Boxes**
    - Understanding coverage coverage
    - Additional security measures
12. **Costs Associated with Safety Deposit Boxes**
    - Rental prices
    - Additional costs and concerns
13. **Alternatives to Safety Deposit Boxes**
    - Home safes
    - Digital garage options
14. **Security Tips for Using Safety Deposit Boxes**
    - Best practices for safety
    - Regular preservation and assessments
15. **Conclusion**
    - Recap of the significance of protection deposit bins
    - Final thoughts on safeguarding valuables
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# **Safety Deposit Boxes: A Comprehensive Guide**
Safeguarding your valuables has become more critical in a state-of-the-art, unpredictable global world. One of the most dependable methods of protection is safety deposit bins. These stable storage devices provide peace of thoughts by imparting a fortified area to keep essential documents, valuable heirlooms, and valuables.
## **History of Safety Deposit Boxes**
Safety deposit packing containers have rich records dating back to when people sought secure places to save their assets. The idea has advanced over centuries, with banks and private entities enhancing security measures to satisfy the growing demand for secure storage solutions.
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## **Types of Deposit Boxes**
There are commonly two types of protection deposit boxes: the ones housed inside financial institution vaults and people provided by personal vault centers. Bank vaults are usually handy during everyday banking hours, while private vault centers may also offer prolonged admission to hours and extra facilities.
## **Benefits of Safety Deposit Boxes**
The number one gain of protection deposit packing containers is their exceptional protection. These containers are designed to face theft, fireplaces, and herbal disasters, offering a haven for your most treasured possessions.
## **Choosing a Safety Deposit Box**
When choosing a protection deposit box, it's essential to remember elements such as size, accessibility, and price. Conducting thorough studies and comparing alternatives will ensure you discover the right match for your desires.
## **How to Rent a Safety Deposit Box**
Renting a safety deposit container is a truthful procedure that usually requires legitimate identification and a condominium settlement. Once rented, you may be granted exceptional right of entry to the field and its contents.
## **Items Suitable for Storage**
Safety deposit containers are best for storing files, wills, deeds, insurance regulations, rings, uncommon collectibles, and other valuable items. However, certain objects, such as perishable items and dangerous materials, aren't appropriate for the garage in these packing containers.
## **Safety Deposit Box Regulations**
Various policies govern the usage of protection deposit boxes, ensure compliance with legal requirements, and shield the pastimes of both box proprietors and vault facilities.
## **Maintaining Privacy and Confidentiality**
Vault facilities prioritize customer confidentiality, employing strict privacy guidelines to guard the identities and possessions of field proprietors.
## **Accessing Your Safety Deposit Box**
The authorized right of entry to a protection deposit container is usually granted upon presentation of legitimate identity and adherence to installed safety protocols. In case of emergencies, designated approaches make specific prompts to gain admission to the field contents.
## **Insurance for Safety Deposit Boxes**
While safety deposit packing containers offer exceptional safety, obtaining coverage insurance adds further protection against unforeseen situations such as theft, damage, or loss.
## **Costs Associated with Safety Deposit Boxes**
The cost of renting a protection deposit container varies depending on elements, including extra services provided by the vault facility. Budgeting for apartment expenses and any associated prices is essential to ensure you get the right of entry to your container.
## **Alternatives to Safety Boxes**
For those looking for alternative storage solutions, domestic safes and virtual garage alternatives provide feasible options to standard safety deposit containers.
## **Security Tips for Using Deposit Boxes**
To maximize the security of your protection deposit box, adhere to satisfactory practices with ordinary inventory exams, update the right of entry to protocols, and maintain confidentiality concerning box contents.
### **Conclusion**
In conclusion, protection deposit packing containers are fundamental equipment for protecting valuables in an increasingly uncertain world. Whether housed within financial institution vaults or private centers, those steady garage devices offer peace of mind and safety against capacity threats.
---
### **FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions)**
1. **Can everyone get entry to my safety deposit container?**
   - No, Access to your protection deposit field is restricted to authorized people precisely by you.
2. **Are safety deposit boxes insured?**
   - While safety boxes are not insured, you could reap insurance for the contents stored inside them.
Three. **What takes place if I lose the vital thing to my safety deposit container?**
   - In the event of a misplaced key, vault centers have protocols to assist you in accessing your box.
Four. **Can I get admission to my protection deposit container after banking hours?**
   - Access to safety deposit packing containers housed within financial institution vaults is usually restricted to banking hours, even as private vault centers may additionally provide extended entry to alternatives.
5. **Are there any objects prohibited from being saved in a protection deposit container?**
   - Positive objects, including perishable items, firearms, and hazardous materials, are typically prohibited from the garage in protection deposit containers.
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afreshstartlaw · 1 year ago
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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago
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As relentless rains pounded LA, the city’s “sponge” infrastructure helped gather 8.6 billion gallons of water—enough to sustain over 100,000 households for a year.
Earlier this month, the future fell on Los Angeles. A long band of moisture in the sky, known as an atmospheric river, dumped 9 inches of rain on the city over three days—over half of what the city typically gets in a year. It’s the kind of extreme rainfall that’ll get ever more extreme as the planet warms.
The city’s water managers, though, were ready and waiting. Like other urban areas around the world, in recent years LA has been transforming into a “sponge city,” replacing impermeable surfaces, like concrete, with permeable ones, like dirt and plants. It has also built out “spreading grounds,” where water accumulates and soaks into the earth.
With traditional dams and all that newfangled spongy infrastructure, between February 4 and 7 the metropolis captured 8.6 billion gallons of stormwater, enough to provide water to 106,000 households for a year. For the rainy season in total, LA has accumulated 14.7 billion gallons.
Long reliant on snowmelt and river water piped in from afar, LA is on a quest to produce as much water as it can locally. “There's going to be a lot more rain and a lot less snow, which is going to alter the way we capture snowmelt and the aqueduct water,” says Art Castro, manager of watershed management at the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. “Dams and spreading grounds are the workhorses of local stormwater capture for either flood protection or water supply.”
Centuries of urban-planning dogma dictates using gutters, sewers, and other infrastructure to funnel rainwater out of a metropolis as quickly as possible to prevent flooding. Given the increasingly catastrophic urban flooding seen around the world, though, that clearly isn’t working anymore, so now planners are finding clever ways to capture stormwater, treating it as an asset instead of a liability. “The problem of urban hydrology is caused by a thousand small cuts,” says Michael Kiparsky, director of the Wheeler Water Institute at UC Berkeley. “No one driveway or roof in and of itself causes massive alteration of the hydrologic cycle. But combine millions of them in one area and it does. Maybe we can solve that problem with a thousand Band-Aids.”
Or in this case, sponges. The trick to making a city more absorbent is to add more gardens and other green spaces that allow water to percolate into underlying aquifers—porous subterranean materials that can hold water—which a city can then draw from in times of need. Engineers are also greening up medians and roadside areas to soak up the water that’d normally rush off streets, into sewers, and eventually out to sea...
To exploit all that free water falling from the sky, the LADWP has carved out big patches of brown in the concrete jungle. Stormwater is piped into these spreading grounds and accumulates in dirt basins. That allows it to slowly soak into the underlying aquifer, which acts as a sort of natural underground tank that can hold 28 billion gallons of water.
During a storm, the city is also gathering water in dams, some of which it diverts into the spreading grounds. “After the storm comes by, and it's a bright sunny day, you’ll still see water being released into a channel and diverted into the spreading grounds,” says Castro. That way, water moves from a reservoir where it’s exposed to sunlight and evaporation, into an aquifer where it’s banked safely underground.
On a smaller scale, LADWP has been experimenting with turning parks into mini spreading grounds, diverting stormwater there to soak into subterranean cisterns or chambers. It’s also deploying green spaces along roadways, which have the additional benefit of mitigating flooding in a neighborhood: The less concrete and the more dirt and plants, the more the built environment can soak up stormwater like the actual environment naturally does.
As an added benefit, deploying more of these green spaces, along with urban gardens, improves the mental health of residents. Plants here also “sweat,” cooling the area and beating back the urban heat island effect—the tendency for concrete to absorb solar energy and slowly release it at night. By reducing summer temperatures, you improve the physical health of residents. “The more trees, the more shade, the less heat island effect,” says Castro. “Sometimes when it’s 90 degrees in the middle of summer, it could get up to 110 underneath a bus stop.”
LA’s far from alone in going spongy. Pittsburgh is also deploying more rain gardens, and where they absolutely must have a hard surface—sidewalks, parking lots, etc.—they’re using special concrete bricks that allow water to seep through. And a growing number of municipalities are scrutinizing properties and charging owners fees if they have excessive impermeable surfaces like pavement, thus incentivizing the switch to permeable surfaces like plots of native plants or urban gardens for producing more food locally.
So the old way of stormwater management isn’t just increasingly dangerous and ineffective as the planet warms and storms get more intense—it stands in the way of a more beautiful, less sweltering, more sustainable urban landscape. LA, of all places, is showing the world there’s a better way.
-via Wired, February 19, 2024
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stealingyourbones · 6 months ago
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After one too many times having to work for the Joker and getting his shit rocked by the bats as a goon, Dash becomes a rat. He tells the GCPD about the attacks that the rogues that hired him have planned. His snitching goes well for a year, becoming an asset to the Bats, when he gets found out. This makes him go into Gotham's version of witness protection: Being watched 24/7 in a safe house by the Bats.
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muletia · 2 months ago
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So. I just read the whole ‘optimus gets minified’ and I have to ask...
May I request one for Pedraking?🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇
— 🩷
𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝟐 ༘⋆✿
predaking, ratchet, smokescreen ↳ all are obsessed with you btw
word count: 1300
you used the word “request” and I am currently not accepting them, but!! I love this concept and couldn’t resist adding two other characters…
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Oh, no, he absolutely hates it
Predaking has no idea how this even happened. He went into recharge curled protectively around you, shielding you from the world and sharing his warmth, only to wake up small, confused, and utterly incapable of performing the one task his entire existence revolves around: protecting you
So how is he supposed to stay calm? How is he supposed to keep his cool when he’s defenseless? His strength, height, and power — all his greatest assets — have been stripped away. Without them, he can’t be a worthy mate for you. He wouldn’t dare even call himself that anymore. You don’t need a plushie; you need a strong partner, ready to push away any intruder and eliminate anyone who so much as approaches your love nest. In this form, he can’t offer you any of that. He can’t fulfill a single promise he made to you, which leaves him caught between fury and a crushing sense of inadequacy
But why aren’t you panicking? You look surprised, sure, but not terrified, even though you should be! You’re currently defenseless! What if someone decides to steal you away from him? And why are you cooing like he’s a sparkling and reaching out toward him? Oh, you want to pet him...
He won’t make it easy. Startled by your actions, he’ll jump away from you, insisting he doesn’t need your affection right now and that you should hold off until you figure out a solution to this mess.
But he has to stay by your side. He has to protect you, even in this form. He has to be braver, fiercer, compensating for his lost size with sheer determination. No, he won’t leave you for even a second. He’ll protect you with his entire body if necessary
So he returns to you and tries to block the entrance to your love nest, though at his current size, it’s far from impressive. Standing with his back to you, hawk-eyed and focused on the doorway, he doesn’t notice your hand snaking toward his helm. When it rests there and starts stroking, he freezes
Predaking will still try to resist. He’ll growl and brush off your affections, but with every stroke of your hand, his defiance melts away. Boldness gives way to an overwhelming need to be close to you, and soon there’s nothing left of it as he wags his tail, eagerly demanding more pets
It’ll take a long time before he remembers that he’s supposed to protect you 24/7, fully content to bask in your attention and curl up on your lap. Even your constant comments about how sweet and adorable he is stop bothering him surprisingly fast
Still, he will never accept being miniature. Being spoiled by you is undeniably delightful, but Predaking needs absolute certainty that he can defend you from hostile bots. He’ll keep searching for a way to undo this, but until then, you can enjoy your giant, adorable lap dog <3
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If Predaking hates his situation, Ratchet downright loathes it
You’ve never heard so much grumpy complaining as during the size-change incident
How can humans live like this? It’s uncomfortable, impractical, weak. You can’t reach anything, the world feels so enormous. Anyone could step on you (payback for his own words, I guess), and you’re so fragile and delicate
And then there’s your behavior toward him. He doesn’t want to be treated like a sparkling. He doesn’t want your cooing and constant repetition of how adorable he is and how much you want to smother his entire faceplate with kisses (although, deep down in his spark, that’s the one thing he truly craves, as betrayed by a subtle blue blush)
He doesn’t know when you got it into your head that he needs your constant care. He can handle himself and intends to work tirelessly until he finds a way to undo this farce. Sure, he’s five times smaller, but that doesn’t mean he’s lost all his competence. He doesn’t need a nanny — especially one who keeps interrupting his work with comments about how adorable he is
But Ratchet is also a hypocrite because, truthfully, he does need you. The sudden shift in perspective is terrifying. Giants become behemoths; they loom over him, threatening to crush him. It’s easy to feel microscopic and overwhelmed, not hard to spiral into panic and uncertainty as wild thoughts conjure up visions of being stepped on. In those moments, Ratchet needs you by his side. He needs to grab onto the hem of your shirt, to feel that you’re there, that everything is okay. You won’t leave him or let anything harm him
Of course, once the fear subsides and Ratchet feels comfortable again, he reverts to his independent and grumpy self, but he’ll stop trying to push you away. He’ll appreciate your presence, even if he never really wanted you to leave him in the first place
The constant work will exhaust him quickly, especially in such a small and frail form, and then he’ll instinctively seek you out. He’ll choose the perfect moment when no one else is in the base, find you on the couch, and climb onto you, ignoring all your questions and comments. He’s tired, doesn’t know how to fix this, and needs you. Let him at least have a few kliks of napping in arms that surround him with safety
You can even kiss his forehead. After all, it’s only fair to repay all the kisses you’ve received from him, so he can feel for himself just how wonderful they are <3
Oh, and imagine a mini jealous Ratchet. He doesn’t like that you’re spending so much time talking to some young bot when you were supposed to be helping him, so he feels the need to take action and drag you away. But he’s so tiny and not at all intimidating that his “rival” can’t take him seriously... especially when he tugs at your clothes like a grumpy sparkling
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Oh, so now he can be with you 24/7? Fantastic!
This entire situation is incredibly convenient for him. Sure, at first, he was a bit terrified and downcast that he couldn’t be the perfect partner for you, but he quickly discovered countless benefits to being minified
First and foremost, he gets to accompany you everywhere. He doesn’t leave your side, becoming your shadow. Even at his normal height, he tried to spend every free moment with you, but as a mini version, he’s with you always
Bathroom breaks? Smokescreen follows you, clutching onto the hem of your shirt (you’ll need to explain to him that just because he can fit in there with you doesn’t mean he should)
Feeling like stretching your legs after sitting too long and showering him with affection? He toddles after you, mimicking your every move
Taking a stroll around the base? Definitely not alone.
He’ll drain your energy before evening comes. Since he’s shrunk down to the size of a sparkling, why not act like one to get what he wants?
Need a break from his constant presence and his unique talent for never shutting up? Well, you’re going to have a huge problem because simply interrupting a cuddling session already spells trouble. Trying to untangle yourself from his limbs while avoiding sharp edges of his armor, Smokescreen sprawls across your torso, pinning you to the couch. And even when small, he’s shockingly heavy, effectively trapping you in place. Now you can continue your cuddling and smooching session
He won’t feel a shred of shame or hesitation in using his charm, either. He knows perfectly well that you find him adorable, so he’ll use his big, puppy-like optics to manipulate you to his advantage — for example, to get another round of being carried in your arms
But the most affectionately unbearable he gets is when you need to leave the base. You can’t leave him alone! What if someone steps on him? Or he gets lost in the hangar? You have to stay by his side (forever) at least until Ratchet can fix him. Smokescreen has no qualms about clinging to your leg if it means keeping you near. And no force will pry him off until you say you’ll stay the night <3
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bitchesgetriches · 10 months ago
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Everything You Need to Know about How to Increase Your Income
Make more money at the job you have
One of the simplest ways to increase your income is to just make your current employer pay you more. But while it may be simple, it ain’t always easy.
Santa Isn’t Coming and Neither Is Your Promotion: How To Get Promoted
How I Chessmastered Myself Into a Promotion at Work
The First Time I Asked for a Raise
You Need To Ask for a Fucking Raise
Ask the Bitches: “Can I Quit With Unvested Funds? Or Am I Walking Away From Too Much Money?” 
The Ultimate Guide to Growing Your Salary
Make more money at your next job
All that said, you’re statistically more likely to increase your income faster by job hopping! So if your current employer doesn’t want to pay you more, leave that sinking ship behind in pursuit of a higher salary.
Job Hopping vs. Career Loyalty by the Numbers
The Fascinating Results of Our Job Hopping vs. Career Loyalty Poll
How NOT to Determine Your Salary
When It Comes to Salary Negotiations, Are You Asking for Enough?
What To Do When You’re Asked About Your Salary Requirements in a Job Interview
If Your Employer Refuses To Negotiate Salary, Try These 11 Creative Counteroffers
Season 4, Episode 9: “I’m on the Wrong Career Path. How Do I Convince a New Industry To Take a Chance on Me?” 
Invest your way to more money
Of course there are some who say the true path to wealth is passive income: when you stop working for your money and instead let your money work for you. And they’re not wrong! Here’s how we recommend you increase your income passively.
When Money in the Bank Is a Bad Thing: Understanding Inflation and Depreciation
Investing Deathmatch: Investing in the Stock Market vs. Just… Not 
What’s the REAL Rate of Return on the Stock Market?
Dafuq Is a Retirement Plan and Why Do You Need One? 
Procrastinating on Opening a Retirement Account? Here’s 3 Ways That’ll Fuck You Over.
Season 4, Episode 1: “Index Funds Include Unethical Companies. Can I Still Invest in Them, or Does That Make Me a Monster?” 
Small Business Investing: A Kinder, Gentler Alternative to the Stock Market 
The Dark Magic of Financial Horcruxes: How and Why to Diversify Your Assets 
Make more money through side hustles
When it comes to side hustles, we have traditionally advocated caution. The last thing you want to do is burn out in pursuit of a second income stream. But with enough wits and fortitude, a side hustle could help you increase your income by leaps and bounds.
Romanticizing the Side Hustle: When 1 Job Isn’t Enough
Season 2, Episode 9: “I Use My Free Time to Volunteer. Should I Focus on Making Money Instead?”
Stop Undervaluing Your Freelance Work, You Darling Fool
Freelancer, Protect Thyself… With a Fair Contract 
Season 4, Episode 10: “I’m a Freelance Artist. How Do I Price My Work Fairly Without Losing Clients?”
Ask the Bitches: My Boss Won’t Give Me a Contract and I’m Freaking Out 
“Independent Contractor” My Ass: How to Stop Wage Theft Through Worker Misclassification 
Becoming a Millennial Entrepreneur (In the Midst of a Pandemic) With Katelyn Magnuson 
11 Awful Mistakes I Made as a Self-employed Freelancer, and How You Can Avoid Them
The Magic of Unclaimed Property: How I Made $1,900 in 10 Minutes by Being a Disorganized Mess
I Am a Craigslist Samurai and so Can You: How to Sell Used Stuff Online
What to do when you make more money
Once you increase your income, you might find yourself… not quite bored, but finding you have a little more bandwidth to handle the stuff that matters. It can be a jarring transition! Here are our thoughts on the matter.
Season 3, Episode 7: “I’m Finished With the Basic Shit. What Are the Advanced Financial Steps That Only Rich People Know?” 
Season 3, Episode 4: “The More Money I Save, the More I’m Scared To Lose It. Can I Break the Cycle of Financial Anxiety?” 
How to Avoid Lifestyle Inflation … and When to Embrace It
Ask the Bitches: I Know How to Struggle and Fight, but I Don’t Know How to Succeed
Update: I Know How to Struggle and Fight, but I Don’t Know How to Succeed 
The FIRE Movement, Explained 
I Was Happy to Marry a Poor Man. Then Things Changed.
I Have Become the Rich Relative I Always Wanted 
Believing in Miracles: A Conversation with Chris Dane Owens on Money, Creativity, and Self-Funding Art 
I Now Make More Money Than My Husband, and It’s Great for Our Marriage 
Season 2, Episode 1: “I’m Financially Stable, but My Friends Aren’t. The Guilt Is Crushing!”
The Resignation Checklist: 25 Sneaky Ways To Bleed Your Employer Dry Before Quitting
Advocate for systemic change
We don’t endorse an attitude of “I got mine.” So once you increase your income, there are lots of ways to use your newfound financial breathing room for good! Lift as you climb, my friend. Here are a few ways to do so:
Wallet Activism: Using Your Money for Good with Author Tanja Hester 
Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job 
Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make All Our Lives Better
Post a Salary Range in the Job Description, You Fucking Cowards
1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap
The Truth About Unions: What Has Organized Labor Done for You? 
How To Support a Labor Strike with 3 Simple Steps
Everything in moderation
One last thing, my lambs: don’t crush your spirit while chasing the goal of a higher income. Working hard is hard work. If you find these tactics are leaving you exhausted and demoralized, you might be on the road to burnout. And that road leads nowhere good!
That’s why we just released our glorious new Burnout Workshop. Click the button below to take a peek!
Get the Burnout Workshop Here!
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zvezdacito · 18 days ago
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Thoughts from last reblog...
Malleus runs from loss and change because he wants to run from the fact that he can feel afraid. To be above his subjects and humans means being above regular vulnerabilities like fear. If he's just like them in this regard, instead of differently flawless and omnipotent enough to be his people's ruler and deliverer, then he's failed at the purpose he was born for, that so many people sacrificed and died for him to be born for. Fear is worse than wickedness because fear is useless.
Malleus has such an interesting and ironic relationship with utility. It's one of my favorite parts about his character because it's both funny and tragic
Salt to the wound that only he knows feels because he's good at everything except the one thing he wants to be good at...helping others💀
^ Referring to the multiple instances where he tries to do something helpful/comforting (favors can also show his goodwill and bring people closer to him) using his most defining asset (magic), only for it to backfire awkwardly and disastrously and sometimes leaving others with an even WORSE impression of him (Lantern fire incident in Briar Valley, Spectral Soiree ghost party, Dorm uniform vignette with the housewardens, the entirety of Book 7, almost unleashing thorns to liven up the party venue in his First Birthday Interview... etc.)
"Malleus doesn't make any effort to get along with others" is something fans usually say and in some ways it is true. He does technically work hard to learn what topics or ideas he doesn't know; but even though he wants people to get closer to him, he's not ready to see those prospective companions as EQUALS (because his identity as fae king needs to be defined off superiority and inferiority). That's the one thing he's not yet willing to work with when trying to connect to others
Also only seeing connections as above or below is the reason why Diasomnia has all their miscommunication angst (that caused the events of Book 7 to begin with)
They can't differentiate between completely doing something for someone else/someone else doing everything for you (serving either below or above) VS working alongside someone and WITH them, which is why they keep thinking they need to bear burdens alone and be the one protecting the others to keep being worthy of them. To also bring up what a mutual said about this before: because theyre so close they've probably spent so much time together acting like this, that they think they completely understand what the others want and that they should be content with this relationship
Malleus as a character and Diasomnia as a group are very compelling for these reasons...I'm simultaneously eager and dreading to see where the story is taking them
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amnestria-the-elf · 7 months ago
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So we're all just supposed to be fucking grateful that Larian gave us "new Wyll content" (evil ending for a man who is canonically incorruptible, what the fuck) and simultaneously broke him again (giving low approval greetings to a romanced PC, what the fuck).
I... I just... the simultaneous feelings of rage and utter hopelessness are overwhelming.
Listen, if you've read any of my posts you know I have a pretty clear "Don't yuck anyone's yum" policy. If you think an evil Wyll ending is interesting, fine. But here's why it falls flat for me.
First, like I said above, Wyll is canonically incorruptible. It's literally the entire basis of his character. He is a man who was coerced into making an infernal contract to save a city and had to pay a horrible price for doing so, then spent seven fucking years alone in the wilderness doing his damned best to protect the people of the Sword Coast, while all along telling his horrible, abusive patron to just fuck off already.
Now, could you argue that during the events of the game, Wyll develops a taste for evil? Sure. There are plenty of opportunities for his villain origin story to unfold. But they never do. His moral compass never wavers. Turned into a devil? He feels shame, because it's an outward sign that he was doing things for Mizora that were morally wrong, and he didn't see it before. His approval rating for the PC shoots through the roof if you save Karlach, a sure indicator of his true moral compass. His father kidnapped? Fuck that noise, we're gonna save him. Rescue Zariel's "asset"? Ugh, fine, but don't get distracted from the real reason we're here. His father gets tadpoled? Oh hells no, we're gonna take down these assholes and save the godsdamned world. His father accuses him of being an agent of a devil and is super pissy about it? "Everything I did, I did for the people of the Sword Coast."
For fuck's sake, he will leave the party if the PC gets too evil, even knowing it means he'll probably turn into a mindflayer immediately. Even if he's romancing the PC. Unwavering moral compass. So giving him an evil ending without also going back and changing everything about his character just feels like lazy writing to me.
Which brings me to the second reason all of this rubs the wrong way. Wyll deserves so much more content. More romanced greetings, more reactions to other characters' choices, a final boss battle that is actually about him, a default ending that actually makes fucking sense (I have another post cooking about the Avernus ending, so I will leave it for now.)
And please, spare me your "But Wyll was rewritten after early access" bullshit. That's Larian's problem. They chose to listen to feedback and do a late-stage rewrite. They then chose to implement it poorly and never fucking fix it. Other characters, who already have far more content than Wyll, have had even more added over the course of the seven released patches. Wyll, on the other hand, has been sitting around completely ignored until now when we get this evil ending.
Many have rightfully pointed out the inherent racism steeped in all of this. I want Larian to be better. But as Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." I already didn't have much hope about Patch 7 for Wyll, but this... honestly, this is worse than him just being ignored again.
The thing that kills me the most is that this is just going to be more fodder for the fandom to completely mischaracterize Wyll, for those who already haven't bothered to think critically about his character at all to just be like, oh, cool, Wyll is evil now. Nope. You've completely missed the point.
I'm just... so tired. I've worked very hard to put this little bubble of Wyll enthusiasts around me (hi friends I love you all!) so that I can hold on to some shred of sanity in this fandom. The world needs heroes of color. Just let Wyll be the hero in peace.
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therandompagesblog · 4 months ago
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SKZ Pack Chapter 7
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Trigger Warnings: mentions of pre-rut, mentions Christmas
Three days later Chan had healed perfectly and was up around the house doing his normal duties. He was grateful to be surrounded by his wolves and his beautiful omega who he wouldn't leave alone. Chan couldn't, she was finally his and he was hers, so there was no way he would leave her alone. He would spend hours cuddling up to her, despite the whines of the other wolves. Chan did not care. He had also given them all the go-ahead to mate with her when they were ready or when she was ready, most importantly. This sent Jisung into a slight panic because as much as he was excited, he was nowhere near ready and the other wolves could see it. Jisung had been caught several times taking a peak through the doors or watching the way the wolves would kiss and caress her. He was silently but creepily taking notes of the way her body reacted. Minho had even scolded him the other day for watching Chan bury his face in their little wolf's wet saccharine pussy. Did he stop? No. He was doing it again, but this time watching the way Minho kissed her. Minho was more of a virgin than him and it annoyed Jisung because she even gave the elder a reaction. The way her ankle would wrap itself around her other ankle as she got excited. "You are a pervert," Hyunjin shouted as he smacked the back of the beta's head, causing Minho to glare angrily and Y/N to stand awkwardly in embarrassment.
Hyunjin crossed his arms in utter disgust at his shameless behaviour. Jisung was desperate for her, but he couldn't quite get her where he wanted her to be, there was always something distracting her. "You need to stop," Minho growled, turning his back to clean the rest of the dishes. "Sorry." Jisung whispered and scurried off somewhere. It did make Y/N a little self-conscious but it also didn't. She wished he was more confident in himself. "I've got your own debit card so you don't have to worry. It's linked to mine but I'm waiting on Chan to let me take you to get your own one." Hyunjin said causing Minho to cross his arms as he watched him hand over an envelope. Y/N opened the envelope to see her name written across the bottom. Y/N Bahng. The name startled Y/N, but not in a bad way. It made her stomach tingle. "Why does she need one? She's not going shopping alone, ever." Minho sulked as he crossed his arms when Hyunjin sat on the stool placing his hands on the island. "Because Minho-ssi we are not taking her freedom away. She has a right to have her own things, just not a job." Hyunjin stated which caused Y/N to snort. Y/N was far too domesticated and hated working. She had tried it once as Jackson's secretary but she got so bored. She hated phoning people and filing things. "Does Chan know about this?" Minho asked. "Yes because he's been setting her up assets so she doesn't have to worry about things." Hyunjin agued. The two wolves went back and forth about the reality of this. Why? Minho wanted her at home so he could spoil her but Hyunjin wanted her to have freedom with finances. Neither one of them was listening to each other. "Am I allowed to have a say in this?" Y/N asked. "No." The two shouted as they continued to argue.
Y/N shook her head at the two wolves and decided to go and see her alpha in his room who was getting changed. "Oops. Sorry." Y/N said as she covered her eyes. She didn't mean to walk in on him. "Hi, baby," Changbin called out as he wrapped his arms around the omega's waist before slamming her into Jeongin's door. Y/N giggled at the beta and kissed him affectionately, his tongue sliding into her mouth playfully. "What do you want Bin?" Y/N asked. Changbin shrugged his shoulders with a smirk. "Nothing, baby," Changbin smirked, his finger nudging her chin. Y/N had noticed the actions between the other wolves had changed when she became mated to Chan. They were all more protective of her or incredibly needy. Hyunjin, Jeongin, Chan and Minho were the protective ones who became hyper-aware of her feelings. Seungmin and Changbin were much more sexually needy, especially Seungmin who was still threatening a punishment after she had him alpha-ordered. Jisung and Felix were more lovingly affectionate but it was tough for them as they themselves were not ready to mate, yet. They were still undecided. It was nice for Y/N but sometimes it felt suffocating and they noticed that. They were more vocal about her distress and scolded the wolf who was being too overwhelming with her.
Jeongin opened the bedroom door, causing Y/N to nearly fall and Changbin to growl at the alpha. "Y/N could have hurt herself." Changbin chided. "She's fine, but you're not fucking on my door," Jeongin growled. His anger radiating off of him alerted Y/N's wolf to see if he was alright. "Jeongin are you alright?" Y/N asked as she went to reach out for him but he avoided her touch but gave her a sharp nod. "I'm going to the gym." Jeongin declared when Chan came out. "That's fine. I was going to take my little wolf shopping for proper clothes." Chan answered with a smile as he grabbed his jacket. Changbin pouted and asked Chan if he could join, which he didn't detest. Chan was quite happy for someone to join him as it meant more eyes to protect there soul mate. "Baby?" Chan whispered as he pulled her closer to kiss her mark while she was putting her shoes on. "Jeongin's having a pre-rut. He gets quite angry before it happens, but we'll talk about it later alright." Chan stated. Minho: Someone left in a mood and knocked the plant off the table. Seungmin: It wasn't me. [Insert picture] Chan shook his head as the group chat started to argue. He didn't want one of them to get on the wrong side of Jeongin. Not when Jeonin was probably feeling a mixture of emotions considering their mate was fully mated Chan: It was an accident. Minho: Next time pick it up. Chan rolled his eyes before putting his phone in his pocket.
Y/N, admittedly felt nervous about going out, since the last time she did, caused Felix to kill San. She couldn't help feeling nervous and wondered if she underestimated Wooyoung and he would return. Chan noticed her anxiety and promised he would not let go of her once. Chan even promised her they would leave as soon as she wanted to, but Y/N wanted to be brave as she looked around the shops. Y/N looked around the shops nervously while Changbin tried to suggest things but Chan shook his head. Chan wanted her to buy things she liked, not what they wanted to see her in. Y/N appreciated that and picked out some graphic t-shirts, and trousers along with a couple of jumpers now that the weather was getting colder. It felt weird that Y/N got to use her own card but she kept forgetting the pin number, to the point she had to phone Hyunjin twice who told her to write it in her phone. Overall, Y/N did enjoy her time, she felt really happy with Chan and Changbin. She was even happier when she found Christmas items which caused the two wolves to groan. "Baby. It's November." Chan stated, like it was the most obvious thing. "When do you put your tree up?" Y/N asked. "As soon as Chan and Minho let us. It's normally the second week of December." Changbin huffed. "That's ridiculous," Y/N argued. "What's ridiculous is you buying Christmas items now," Chan argued. "Don't be a sour wolf. Enjoy it. Embrace it ." Y/N sang. "I'll embrace it when it's December baby. You're not getting it." Chan crossed his arms but Y/N shrugged and bought it anyway stating it was Hyunjin's money anyway. Chan shook his head and agreed to it as long as he didn't see it in his house until December, which Y/N accepted. Y/N loved Christmas. It was her favourite time of year and she always celebrated early, despite her mother's grumbles, back then. Y/N and her brothers used to decorate their cabin while trying to convince the other wolves to decorate the main hall. They had a certain tradition. Decorate the cabin. Drink hot chocolate with whatever alcohol they could find and watch Krampus, the shitty horror film they watched every year for no reason. Luckily for her Hongjoong allowed her to keep some parts of the tradition but it was quite an odd Christmas for her, which was why she was super excited for this year. Y/N knew she was safe and knew it would be a fantastic Christmas, but all she had to do was get the Grinches to let her put the tree up.
Taglist for the iconic readers:
@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @galaxy4489
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rootspiral · 3 months ago
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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 2
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])
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I'm glad nicky came up with a cool new tune because according to period movies and shows greensleeves is the only song anyone ever knew
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look at that meek little smile, ughhhh. nicky is like two days old and this asshole has already figured out he's the perfect prop for her murder sprees. and these poor women are calling her sister and are willing to help too.
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the spell is te accipimus in circulum, we accept you in the circle, and yes that makes me cry a little. we accept you in our community. and the spell is yellow air magic, which sounds like the most empathic kind if Lilia is any indication.
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that's interesting, you can't really tell that well from screencaps but go rewatch the scene, this witch is making mushrooms grow with yellow magic instead of green?? is it just a spell (she is holding a book) or have I been getting it all wrong and color has nothing to do with the type of magic one has?
or maybe??? the color depends on the coven you're in?? the salemites all had blue magic for example. and now that I think about it the stone circle is a protection spell but it's not red/orange.
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the meaning of this scene is so glaring dear lord. agatha was never going to give these women a chance to prove that yes, there are people out there who could love and help and accept her. she has shut herself up to that possibility a long time ago.
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and she stole the soup too. awful.
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I've seen all the different theories about nicky needing to feed on witches too, or nicky needing soul sacrifices to survive because he's the son of death etc. we don't have enough evidence to prove anything yet, but personally I headcanon nicky as a totally normal kid, that makes this story even more tragic.
and aww that baby suckling on the little pudgy fist
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nicky doesn't look that happy about what he's been asked to do, does he?
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we establish that nicky was sickly (maybe he was born with some internal defect that rio temporarily patched up?) we also see him steal the bell agatha will use for her Road scam in the future.
and we meet yet another witch being kind and wanting to help.
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agatha: I love this six year old so much I'm gonna make him accessory to murder
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dO yOU ShaME YouR MOtHER
and the big fake gasp too. as usual this bitch has conned a whole community
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like, she's convinced herself that other witches are bad and are after her WHILE relying on witches's good hearts to con and kill them. what sort of mental gymnastics???
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color goes from yellow to purple. nicky waits outside while his mom commits murder, it's not a good look on agatha. completely fucked up, actually.
(I'm terrified that the goat will end up being an agent of mephisto or something idiotic like that, lemme tell you. I hope they're just keeping it for milk and company.)
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and here's the million dollar question. nicky has seen his mom kill literally since he was born, and now he's old enough to start realizing what that means.
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oooh I know that look, that's agatha when she's put on the spot. she avoids his gaze, she can't be sincere with him.
and of course she's teaching herself spells from a book. nerrrrrrd
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nicky, bless his soul, appears to give it a good thought and then offers a practical suggestion. I guess he wouldn't mind to have a roof on his head and some friends too.
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GREAT acting from kathryn here. the quick OH SHIT face followed by the super final NO, with her jaw so rigid. in typical agatha fashion, when she's upset she becomes avoidant.
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this is evanora's legacy. despite agatha's immense love for nicky, she is passing all that pain down and inflicting it on him.
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remember when she called billy a survivor? this is the greatest asset in her opinion, the one she wants to teach her son. the truth is, she is angry at witches because she is scared of them, she's scared of being targeted again. but look at that kid's dark circles, I can't believe she's making him sleep in the woods, sick as he is!
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really really fantastic subtlety. agatha wants to sound wise and strong, but she looks scared, uncertain, guilty.
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see how nicky looks at agatha while he sings? he's checking to see if she's noticing, because his mom likes music and likes his voice. he's afraid he has upset her and wants to make her smile. he tried to reason with her, and now he tries to soothe her. this is what happens when you have an immature parent, a child will want to help, they will try to fix things. they'll end up parenting their parent, and it should always be the other way round.
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agatha takes the bait. she's relieved that the conversation has moved to a safer subject. but oh, this script is so good. this is a mostly innocent, mostly sweet remark, but with a possessive undertone. don't forget that you are mine, she says.
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and still, the love is real. even in a fucked up situation like this, these moment of happiness are precious and genuine and will linger on. look at how adoringly nicky looks at his mom, she's literally the sun and center of his small world, and that's how agatha likes it: she created nicky because she needed someone who could be hers without any baggage or consequences. but it turns out that raising a child is not a cheat code for love, it's one of the most difficult, most significant and impactful decisions a human can make.
go to episode 9 part 3
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ghostlyglimmer · 3 months ago
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The Fun Zone Part 7
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You can find more chapters here
Summary:
Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.
Danny was pretty sure this job was going to be the death of him—not because of the usual chaos, but because he was now wearing a giant, fluorescent green dog mascot costume. His coworker, Kenny, who usually handled mascot duties for the birthday parties, had called out sick, leaving Danny to reluctantly pick up the slack.
“It’s just for a few hours,” Jason had said, smirking as Danny reluctantly pulled on the oversized costume. “And hey, maybe it’ll teach you some humility.”
Danny had glared at him through the oversized eyeholes. “If I trip and break my neck, you’re paying my medical bills.”
Jason shrugged. “Don’t trip, then.”
Now, Danny was waddling around the arcade, high-fiving kids with the floppy dog paws and trying not to pass out in the sauna-like suit.
“Best. Job. Ever,” Danny muttered under his breath as a gaggle of kids tugged on his tail.
It was during one such tail-tugging session that the doors to The Fun Zone burst open with a loud bang. Danny turned toward the noise, his oversized head wobbling precariously, to see a man striding in with an air of menace. The villain was decked out in a patchwork of metallic armor and wielding a high-tech laser gun.
“Alright, everyone!” the man bellowed. “This is a robbery! Hand over your wallets, your jewelry, and all your tokens!”
Danny sighed, shaking his giant dog head. Of course. Of course this would happen while I’m dressed in a glorified fursuit.
The parents and kids screamed, scattering like bowling pins. From behind the counter, one of Danny’s coworkers hit the silent alarm to alert Jason, who was in the back office. But Danny didn’t have time to wait.
The villain, apparently pleased with the chaos, aimed his laser gun at the prize counter. “Nobody move, or the claw machine gets it!”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Not on my watch, tin man.”
The villain turned, clearly not expecting the giant dog mascot to step forward. “What the—?”
Danny didn’t give him a chance to finish. He lunged forward with surprising speed, tackling the man to the ground. The villain’s laser gun clattered to the floor, and Danny started wailing on him with his oversized paws.
“What the hell is happening?” the villain shouted, trying to fend off the flurry of punches.
“Bad dog!” Danny growled, punctuating each word with a swing. “Don’t mess with The Fun Zone!”
Meanwhile, in the back office, Jason’s security monitors lit up with the scene of a green dog mascot absolutely demolishing the armored villain in the middle of the arcade. Jason froze for a moment, trying to process what he was seeing. Then, with a muttered curse, he grabbed his helmet and weapons, bolting toward the front.
By the time Jason arrived, the villain was barely conscious, his armor dented and scratched from the mascot’s relentless assault. Danny was standing over him, panting slightly as he adjusted the dog head that had started to slip to one side. "Guess his bark is worse than his bite." Danny panted.
Jason stared, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement under his hood. “Fenton, what the hell are you doing?”
Danny turned, his giant dog head bobbing awkwardly. “What does it look like? I’m protecting company assets.”
Jason raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the groaning villain on the floor. “You’re beating a guy half to death in a dog costume.”
“Yeah, well,” Danny said, crossing his floppy arms. “He was threatening the claw machine. Nobody threatens the claw machine.”
Jason blinked, then burst out laughing, the sound muffled but unmistakable. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re welcome,” Danny said, his voice muffled by the dog head. “Now, can you call the cops or something? This suit smells like sweat and regret, and I’d like to take it off before I suffocate.”
Jason shook his head, still chuckling as he cuffed the villain and hauled him to his feet. “Sure thing, Fenton. But I’m never letting you live this down.”
Danny groaned, waddling back toward the staff room to peel off the costume. “This job gets dumber every day.”
As the villain was dragged away, one of the kids who had been hiding behind the arcade machines piped up. “That was awesome! The dog is a superhero!”
Danny sighed from the breakroom. “I hate this city.”
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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 7 months ago
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8: HOMECOMING
Chapter 7 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 9
SUMMARY: To your surprise, the Winter Soldier finds you in your home.
Word Count: 6.5k
Warning: SMUT: Breeding kink, penetrative sex, possessiveness — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so I can add it.
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As you waited with bated breath for Soldat to emerge from the stasis chamber once more, you seized the opportunity to delve deeper into the mysterious man's past. Eager to uncover the truth behind the silent, deadly assassin you had grown so inexplicably attached to, you set out to meticulously comb through the vast trove of Hydra's classified files. What you uncovered left you utterly stunned - the man you knew as Soldat was in fact none other than James Buchanan Barnes, the revered and loyal best friend and comrade-in-arms of the legendary Captain America himself. 
Falling down the rabbit hole of research, you became enthralled as you pieced together the story of Bucky Barnes' history. Articles and military records painted a vivid picture of the brave young man who had fought side-by-side with Captain America during the war, his steadfast dedication and skilled marksmanship making him a formidable asset on the battlefield. By all accounts, Bucky had been a faithful and unwavering companion to Steve Rogers, providing moral support and watching his friend's back through even the most harrowing of missions. The two were spoken of as an unbreakable duo, their bond of friendship forged in the crucible of combat. 
As the weeks passed in a blur, you found yourself consumed by your investigation, devouring every scrap of information you could uncover about this legendary figure. The more you learned, the more your respect and admiration for Bucky Barnes grew. He was a true hero, a man of honor and courage who had sacrificed everything in service of his country and his best friend. And now, that very same man lay frozen in Hydra's grasp, his true identity and heroic past obscured by the dark mantle of the Winter Soldier. Your heart ached at the thought, spurring you on in your quest to uncover the full truth and, perhaps, find a way to restore Bucky Barnes to his former self.
As you delved deeper into your research, you finally came across the most tragic event in Bucky's history - his apparent demise during World War II. According to the historical records you uncovered, Bucky had been on a crucial mission with Captain America to stop the nefarious plans of HYDRA when disaster struck. Amidst the chaos of battle, Bucky fell from a speeding train, plunging hundreds of feet to what was presumed to be his untimely death. This devastating event had been a crushing blow to Captain America, who was left to mourn his closest friend and most trusted ally. Bucky Barnes was mourned as a fallen war hero, a true patriot who had given his life in service of his country. 
Your research allowed you to meticulously record every tidbit of information you could find about this enigmatic figure. You documented his impressive background, learning that Bucky had been an exceptionally skilled marksman and hand-to-hand combatant, honing his abilities through rigorous military training. His physique was described in vivid detail across various accounts - tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair that often fell across his piercing, steely eyes. These eyes concealed a complex duality, for while they could be cold and distant when Bucky donned the mantle of the Winter Soldier, you had also witnessed them spark with warmth and raw emotion, a testament to the man he had been before his apparent demise.
Beyond the cold, hard facts, you also recorded your own personal thoughts and feelings about Bucky Barnes. His brusque exterior and guarded nature initially made him seem unapproachable, but you had glimpsed the depth of his loyalty and the fire that burned within him. He was a man who had sacrificed everything, even his own life, to protect those he cared about, and the tragedy of his loss continued to weigh heavily on your heart as you delved deeper into uncovering the truth behind his fate.
As you packed up your belongings and prepared to leave the facility for the night, a sense of melancholy washed over you as you thought about Soldat, or rather, Bucky. You knew he had been dispatched on a crucial mission, one that would likely keep him away for several days. With a pang of disappointment, you resigned yourself to the reality that it would be some time before you would see him again. The sudden, abrupt nature of his departure had left you little opportunity for any meaningful goodbyes or parting words. All you could do now was wait anxiously for his safe return.  
Bidding a somber farewell to your colleagues, you stepped out into the cold, dark night, the chill in the air matching the emptiness you felt within. As you made your way home, the rich, earthy aroma of borscht suddenly filled the air, enveloping you in a comforting blanket of familiarity. Despite your lack of appetite, you found yourself drawn to the hearty soup, serving yourself a small portion and savoring the way it warmed you from the inside out as you settled into the quiet sanctuary of your own apartment. 
Cradling the steaming bowl in your hands, you allowed yourself a rare moment of relaxation, the soft sound of your own breathing the only thing interrupting the stillness. Your eyes drifted to the battered notebook resting on the table beside you, filled with meticulous notes and observations about Bucky, your most precious possession. Tracing your fingers over the familiar lines of your writing, your thoughts inevitably wandered back to the last time you had seen him, the memory of his abrupt departure still lingering painfully. With a heavy sigh, you steeled yourself to wait patiently for his return, your heart aching with the knowledge that it may still be some time before you would lay eyes on him again.
The emptiness in your chest felt like a physical ache, a hollowness that seemed to reverberate through your entire being. As hard as you tried to ignore it, Soldat’s absence felt like a constant, gnawing sensation, a void that no amount of distraction could fill. In quiet moments, when your mind was allowed to wander, the memory of his unexpected tenderness would loom largest, playing on a bittersweet refrain.
Despite the taciturn exterior and the ever-present aura of stoicism that surrounded him, you had been privy to those rare, fleeting instances when the icy walls he had so meticulously constructed would crumble, revealing a softness and vulnerability that had touched you to the core. The gentle brush of his calloused fingers against your skin, the comforting press of his solid frame against yours - these moments of intimate connection had left an indelible mark, awakening a deep, primal yearning within you. You found yourself constantly chasing the elusive high of those tender interludes, craving the warmth and security they provided in contrast to his usual aloof demeanor.
Try as you might to tamp down these feelings, to convince yourself it was foolish to long for more, the memory of Soldat's unexpected displays of affection refused to be extinguished. They had wormed their way into the fabric of your being, becoming a source of both comfort and torment as you ached to experience that vulnerable intimacy once again. The emptiness in your chest was a constant, nagging reminder of what you had tasted but could no longer freely indulge in, fueling an insatiable desire to reconnect with the man who had so thoroughly captured your heart.
The sudden, soft clicking sound that shattered the quiet of your apartment sent a jolt of fear through your body, instantly snapping you out of your thoughts and putting you on high alert. Your muscles tensed as the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, your senses heightening as you turned to pinpoint the source of the unexpected noise. A surge of trepidation washed over you, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest as you scanned the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of an intruder or potential threat.
With a quick, practiced motion, you reached for the gun you kept stored nearby, your fingers wrapping firmly around the cool metal as you raised the weapon, taking up a defensive stance and aiming it squarely at the door. The adrenaline was coursing through your veins, heightening your awareness and priming your body for action. Every nerve was on edge, your breathing steady and controlled despite the palpable tension in the air. You were poised and ready, waiting with bated breath for the slightest hint of movement, prepared to neutralize any danger that dared to cross the threshold.
Then, suddenly, a familiar gruff voice called out from the kitchen, shattering the silence. "Kotyonok?" The sound of Soldat's voice caused your heart to leap in your chest, a surge of equal parts shock and relief washing over you as you turned to face him, your revolver still raised. In that moment, the hormone-fueled fear and apprehension melted away, replaced by the comforting realization that the source of the noise was not a threat, but rather your trusted companion.
For a moment, you stood frozen, the gun trembling in your hands. Your mind was a chaotic jumble of emotions - surprise, fear, relief… and maybe a hint of elation at his sudden appearance in your home.
How was it that Soldat stood in the shadows of your kitchen? His figure barely illuminated by the scant light filtering in from the other rooms. He was a ghost-like presence, a silhouette against the darkness, his features concealed under the cover of shadow.
You could just make out the vague outline of his toned physique, the breadth of his shoulders and the glint of titanium from his left arm. His eyes were like dark pools, their depths unfathomable in the dimness of the room.
“You don't need that.”
His voice was low and calm, the edge of a command beneath his words as he motioned to your revolver. You could feel a slight wariness settle over you as the situation sunk in. This was unprecedented. He was standing in your home, in your safe space, and you had no idea how he had come to be there. Why was he there? Were you in danger?
As you pondered these questions, a new thought popped into your mind. Did he know your name? You had always been ‘Kotyonok’ to him, never anything more. It felt strange, almost unsettling, contemplating how much he truly knew about you.
"You're safe.”
His words hung in the air between you, a statement of reassurance that sent a wave of peacefulness through you. You felt your heart rate beginning to slow, the initial rush of catecholamines slowly ebbing as his voice repeated: "You're safe."
It was strange, hearing those words from him, the Winter Soldier with his gruff exterior and his deadly past. But in this moment, standing before you in your own home, it felt true. For reasons you couldn't explain, you felt safe in his presence. Here he wasn't Soldat, he was Bucky.
You cast a quick, furtive glance towards the dining table, your gaze settling on the open notebook and the half-finished bowl of borscht beside it. A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you realized that your research and the meager supper you had hastily prepared were all out in the open. You wondered if he had noticed them, if he had seen the myriad of notes and tidbits about him that you had recorded in that notebook.
You felt a strange mix of anxiety and excitement as you stood there, rooted in place by the weight of the moment. You wanted to do so many things - show him the information you had gathered, offer him a seat and a warm meal. But somehow, the words wouldn't come. You were frozen, like a deer caught in headlights, unable to make a single move as his gaze bore into you from the shadows of the kitchen.
As you stood there frozen, an unfamiliar feeling took root deep inside you - a nagging, gnawing fear of losing him. The very idea that this enigmatic, complex man standing in the shadows of your kitchen might slip through your fingers if he discovered his past terrified you in ways you couldn't yet fully comprehend. The thought of him seeking out that lost piece of himself and abandoning you was more than you could bear in that moment, even if you couldn't fully understand why.
Soldat stepped out of the shadows, his muscular frame coming into view as he moved closer to where you were standing. Without the mask concealing his face, you could see his angular jawline, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, and the intense blue eyes that pierced through you like twin blades. He looked utterly exhausted, the weight of whatever mission he had been on etched across his features.
Your mind raced with questions as he stood before you, his unexpected presence in your home both startling and intriguing. "Why're you here?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could fully process the gravity of the situation. His arrival was shrouded in mystery, and you couldn't help but wonder what had compelled him to seek you out, risking exposure and potentially putting you both in harm's way.
He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on yours, his expression unreadable. There was a brief flicker of something in his eyes, something like hesitation, before he spoke. You could sense the weight of his words, the vulnerability seeping into his gravelly, low voice as he uttered the simple phrase, "Needed to see you." The admission hung in the air, a silent plea for understanding, for acceptance, for the comfort and solace that only your presence could provide.
Your mind whirled with a torrent of questions - how had he found you? Was he in danger by being here? What would happen if the ruthless organization he was a part of, Hydra, discovered his unauthorized visit, his defiance of their control? The implications were staggering, and you struggled to articulate your thoughts, your eyes never leaving his, the mixture of confusion and concern etched across your features.
“But-” You started.
Before you could get another word out, his lips were on yours, cutting off any line of questioning with a swift, unexpected kiss. His mouth was rough against yours, his lips slightly chapped but warm and firm, as he held you tightly against him, his arms encircling you in a desperate embrace. He drank you in like a man starved for water in the desert, the kiss conveying a depth of emotion that words could not capture.
"Just need you," he murmured, his voice thick with vulnerability and longing, a silent plea for the comfort and solace that only you could provide in this moment of uncertainty and danger.
His words, simple yet laced with a rawness that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a note of desperation in his voice, a need that went beyond mere physical attraction. He pushed you firmly against the nearby wall, his body pressing against yours as he continued to speak, his lips hovering just above yours.
“Needed to see you. Need to feel you. Can't control myself anymore.”
He buried his face in the crook of your neck inhaling your scent, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered those words in your ear. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the barely restrained desire coursing through his veins like fire.
His hands were everywhere suddenly, fingers running along your sides and gripping your hips as if he couldn't get enough of your touch. He let out a low, guttural groan as you encircled his neck with your arms, his body pressing you even more firmly against the wall. His hands found your thighs, gripping them tightly as he lifted you up, pinning you in place between his muscular frame and the solid wall behind you. His lips trailed along your jawline, kissing and nibbling at your skin with a desperate need that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.
As he pulled back slightly, his gaze hungrily roamed over your body, taking in every detail of your casual, comfortable appearance. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if he were seeing you anew, a fresh perspective that seemed to stir something deep within him. His hands slid along your sides, caressing the gentle curves of your figure as he spoke again, his voice rough with a raw, primal want tinged with something even more profound.
"You look... different." 
His eyes raked over you, drinking in the sight of your plaid pajama bottoms, the snug, soft tank top that hugged your frame, and the cozy boyfriend cardigan that enveloped you in its comforting embrace. Your freshly-washed hair framed your face in soft, alluring waves, the silky strands tantalizingly close and smelling of your favorite lily & amaranth shampoo. His gaze flicked from your hair to your outfit and back again, his eyes darkening with each passing moment as he took in every inch of you. There was something in his expression - a mixture of ravenous hunger and almost disbelieving awe at your appearance - that sent a delicious shiver down your spine.
"Different how?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He was silent for a moment, his eyes roaming over your form as if he were trying to find the precise words to capture the shift he was witnessing. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with a tangle of emotions.
"You... you look warm. Soft. Safe." His fingers traced along the edge of your tank top, just grazing the bare skin underneath as his eyes met yours, burning with an intensity that stole your breath away. "You look like... home."
He gazed at you intently, his eyes roved over your face as if he were committing every detail to memory - the curve of your cheek, the delicate sweep of your lashes, the soft fullness of your lips. There was a flicker of something tender and almost reverent in his eyes as he repeated the word again, almost to himself: "Home."
His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing along the gentle line of your jaw as he held your captivated gaze. He repeated the word once more, a soft, reverent whisper that seemed to have been torn from the very depths of his soul, resonating with a profound longing and a sense of profound belonging.
"So beautiful.”
His hands explored your body with a fervent, almost desperate intensity. Every touch was charged with a raw, primal hunger that made your breath catch in your throat. His fingers traced the delicate curves of your breasts, caressing the soft, supple skin with a reverence that bordered on worship. As they drifted lower, tracing the gentle slopes of your stomach, you could feel the tension thrumming through him, a coiled spring of restrained desire. It was as if he was fighting a losing battle to maintain his composure, his control hanging by a thread as he struggled to keep his touch gentle and measured. His eyes, dark and smoldering, locked onto yours, and in their depths you glimpsed a storm of emotion - lust, need, a hint of vulnerability. When he spoke, his voice was a hoarse, ragged whisper that sent shivers racing down your spine.
"Don't think I can control myself anymore." The words were laced with a raw, primal hunger that made your heart race. 
"Is that all you want from me?"
Your own question, spoken in a moment of sudden clarity, hung in the air between you  and you watched as something flickered in his expression, a chord struck deep within him. He pulled back slightly, giving you a brief respite even as he continued to pin you in place, his body a tantalizing, unyielding presence. For a heartbeat, his features softened, the fierce desire tempered by something else - a tenderness, a need that went beyond the physical.
And then, with a single word, he laid bare the truth. "No."
His hands moved to your sides, holding you gently now, a stark contrast to the desperate, gripping way they had clung to you just moments before. 
"Then why? Why me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you searched his face, seeking answers to the questions that burned within you. 
He paused again, that familiar stoicism faltering as he struggled to find the words to express the tumultuous thoughts and feelings swirling inside him. This man, so often in complete control, now appeared almost lost, grasping for the right way to articulate the intensity of what was unfolding between you. 
"Because I..." he began, only to shake his head, the words failing him as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours, his hands wrapping around your waist as he finally spoke. "Because it's always been you.”
The weight of his declaration hung in the air, leaving you stunned.
"You don't even know me,” you countered, unwilling to accept the notion that this man, this virtual stranger, could feel such a profound connection.
Yet, the soft, dry chuckle that escaped his lips held a world of meaning, as if he was privy to a secret that you had yet to uncover.
"Don't I?" he asked, his fingers tracing delicate patterns across your skin, his eyes drinking in every detail of your face, as if committing it to memory. "I know you better than you think, Kotyonok.”
Instead of voicing his thought, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck in a feather-light kiss, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. He pulled back again, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes a deep, tumultuous sea of blue and gray.
"And I know-”
He cut you off before you could continue, his hand coming up to rest against your lips, shushing you gently. He didn't need to hear the rest of your sentence. He knew what you were going to say. Or rather, he knew what you thought you knew.
"That's where you're wrong. You think you know, but you don't.”
His words were spoken with a raw honesty that seemed to surprise even himself, and they hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken truths. When he took your chin in his fingers, gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze, you were struck by the complex emotions swirling within his eyes, a blend of hardness and gentleness, a lifetime of experiences and revelations etched into their depths. You frowned but he kept on. 
"I want it all. Everything. With you.”
In that moment, it became clear that his understanding of you ran far deeper than you had ever imagined, and that he harbored feelings and desires that he had kept carefully guarded, until now.
“With me?”
He shifted you in his arms, adjusting his grip on you so he could press you closer against him. His fingers moved to your hair, combing through the soft strands as he spoke again, his voice deep and rough with emotion.
“Yes. With you. Always with you.”
You wanted to tell him what you had found but he moved with a controlled precision, his strong arms lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the action feeling both natural and yet incredibly intimate as he carried you across the room. Without a single thought of consequence, he pushed everything off the dining table. Your half eaten soup and your precious notebook sent clattering to the floor. But with him between your legs, you couldn’t find it within you to protest his actions.
He lowered you gently onto the table, the soft thump of your body against the hard surface sending a jolt through your core. He stayed standing, his eyes roaming over you hungrily as he loomed above you, the intensity in his gaze making it clear that he wasn't done yet. 
"Every part.”
He took his time, slowly removing your pajama bottoms, his hands trailing over your skin as if he were mapping every inch of you. His touch was both gentle and possessive as he pulled the fabric down your legs, leaving you exposed to his gaze.
“Every piece.”
He began stroking your thighs, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles along your sensitive skin. His eyes never left your face, watching your expressions intently as he continued his slow exploration of your body.
“All of you.”
He continued to touch you, his hands roaming over your bare skin in slow, deliberate movements. There was an intensity in his gaze, a raw need that went beyond mere desire. A need to not just take from you, but to give, to share, to make you his completely and utterly. But not just physically. He also craved something deeper, something that went beyond the physical. He yearned for your trust, your everything.
He shed his pants with practiced ease, the fabric hitting the ground in a heap. As he stepped closer to you, you could feel his body heat radiating against your skin. Shirtless, you could see his scars and the muscles of his chest on full display, the shadows cast by the dim light making him look even more formidable than usual. His hands came to rest on either side of you, his arms caging you in, his body pressing against yours. He was so close you could feel his breath on your skin, warm and rough and ragged as he watched your expression, his eyes drinking in every reaction.
"You're perfect," he crooned, his hands not completely idle, gently stroking himself as he held your gaze. "I need you."
There was no mistaking the longing in his words, the sheer desperation that seemed to emanate from every syllable. It was as if he were a man starving, and you the only thing capable of satisfying his hunger. He gripped your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. His strength was evident in the way he moved you, his hands holding you effortlessly in place as he positioned himself between your thighs.
His eyes met yours again, their intensity almost scorching in their heat. "Can't wait any longer.”
But he took his time, sinking into you slowly, inch by inch. His eyes never left yours, watching your expression as he entered you. He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain his control.
“Feels so good inside you, Kotyonok. Look at you, look how you take me so well. Looking so pretty with my cock in you.”
The words escaped him in a broken litany, a mix of adoration and raw desire, his voice thick with the effort it took to keep himself reigned in.
The way he uttered that single word, ‘Kotyonok’, sent shivers down your spine. His deep, velvety voice caressed the syllables, imbuing them with an almost affectionate, intimate quality that made your heart race. As his piercing gaze locked onto yours, you felt utterly captivated, your breath catching in your throat. The intensity of his stare and the weighted meaning behind his words left you trembling, your mind whirling as you struggled to process what was happening.
When he lavished praise upon your appearance, calling you beautiful, it only heightened the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. And then came the shocking question, a bold proposition that struck you like a bolt of lightning.
"You look so beautiful. Just like this. Want to be a mommy? Hmm, Kotyonok? Have my babies? Is that what you want?”
The very idea sent your pulse skyrocketing, your head spinning as you grappled with how to respond. His words echoed in your ears, resonating deeply within you in a way that was both thrilling and unsettling. As he continued his advance, his touch igniting sparks of sensation across your skin, you found it increasingly difficult to think clearly. The sheer intensity of his presence, the unwavering determination in his gaze, and the relentless press of his body against yours threatened to drown out all coherent thought. 
"Relax Kotyonok, you're so tight. Let me in,” he murmured, his movements slow yet utterly unstoppable as he filled you completely. The strange, alien nature of his words only heightened the potent sincerity with which he spoke them, as if unveiling long-buried truths. And through it all, his metal palm kneaded your breast, a tactile reminder of the primal, unyielding nature of his desires.
“Wanna see these tits all full, gonna milk them dry.”
His eyes took on a feral gleam as he watched your reaction. Each thrust eliciting a new reaction for him to revel in. He was taking in every shiver, every gasp, every expression that passed over your face. He was reading you like a book, studying in every nuance. Yet there was a paradoxical safety in his presence, an almost primal protection that belied his predatory demeanor. 
“Gonna look beautiful, carrying my baby in that pretty belly. So big and round and gorgeous. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Kotyonok?”
His words, so raw, sent a shiver through your entire body, his voice and touch setting your skin alight with desire. There was a part of you that felt exposed, vulnerable, yet at the same time you felt strangely safe in his presence.
"Yes, yes I would." The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, a breathless affirmation of his desires.
"Yes, you would.” The rough, rumbling chuckle that reverberated from his throat sent fresh tremors of desire coursing through your entire body. He was enjoying this, enjoying the effect he was having on you, the way his words and touch were driving you wild. His hands were roaming over your body again, mapping out every inch of you with a possessiveness that felt almost like a claim.
“You like that, Kotyonok? You like that I want to knock you up?” His voice was a low, rumbling purr, dripping with a carnal need that set your nerves alight. “You'd be so pretty carrying my kids. I'm going to put one in this precious pussy. Right now, I'm going to cum. Legs up, just to make sure.” The words were a promise, a declaration of his intent to claim you, to fill you with his seed and make you his in the most primal of ways.
Your mind was still reeling, unable to fully process the onslaught of sensations and emotions washing over you. It was like being caught in a storm of desire, the intensity and passion between you both threatening to drown you completely.
“Please. I need to feel you cum inside me,” you begged, your voice thick with need. And as he buried his throbbing cock deep within your welcoming heat, waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body clenching around him repeatedly in the throes of ecstasy.
“Oh Kotyonok, look at you, milking my cock so fucking good,” he growled, his voice low and rough with need. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you to your limits, was almost too much to bear. You teetered on the edge, balancing precariously as the coil of pleasure wound tighter and tighter inside you. “Want me to fill you up? Want me to stuff you, til you're so fucking full that you can't hold it in?”
His words were a siren's call, luring you deeper into the depths of ecstasy. You could feel yourself unraveling, your thoughts swirling like a hurricane as the pleasure threatened to consume you.
“Take it for me, I know you can,” he urged, his hips snapping against yours with a bruising force. 
Your body was a maelstrom of sensation, every nerve ending firing at once as he continued to move against you, his touch became too painful to endure. The world narrowed to nothing but the two of you, locked in a dance of passion and desire. He could sense the moment when you reached your limit, the moment when the sensations became too much to bear. His movements slowed as he watched your expression, his hands moving to your hips as he stilled inside you.
"Are you alright, Kotyonok?" he asked, voice laced with concern, though the hunger in his gaze betrayed his true desire.
He took a deep breath, his chest heaving steadied himself. He was still inside you, still pressed flush against you. He watched you for a moment, his eyes roving over your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or distress. A flicker of relief washed over him as you uttered those reassuring words - “Felt good, Soldat.”
He allowed the hint of a satisfied smirk to tug at the corners of his mouth, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of desire and the knowledge that he had pleased you. With a gentler tone, he reaffirmed his intent, his voice still carrying a gruff edge but now tinged with a newfound softness. “Good. I want you to feel good. Just a little more. You can take it.”
As he spoke, he shifted his hips, testing the boundaries, gauging your limits, before beginning to move again, his pace slow and purposeful at first, building gradually as he watched intently, drinking in every gasp and shiver that escaped your trembling form beneath him.
With a deep, guttural growl, he repeated the words, "just a little more," his voice growing increasingly hoarse and strained as his primal need and desire consumed him.
He was pushing you again, testing your limits once more, his need and desire overriding his restraint. The feeling of you clenching around him was enough to send him over the edge, his body shuddering as he came, a low growl escaping his lips as he buried his face in your shoulder. He held onto you tightly, his arms encircling you, as if trying to keep you as close to him as possible. He was quivering, his chest heaving with each labored breath as he tried to catch his own breath.
“Tell me what you are.” He growled the words, his voice deep and guttural, a demand more than a question. There was no mistaking the authority in his tone, the possessiveness in his eyes as he looked at you.
“Yours.”
"That's right, mine," he whispered harshly, the words spoken with an animalistic ferocity. "Mine to touch, mine to take, mine to claim.”
In the aftermath, he moved with a deft, practiced efficiency, dressing himself with the same dexterity one might expect from a seasoned military veteran. But when he turned back to you, his eyes skimmed over your still-naked form, and for a moment, the harsh, unyielding facade softened. It was not a leering, lustful gaze, but rather one of genuine appreciation, as if he were admiring a work of art. And then, with a surprising tenderness, he reached for your discarded cardigan and carefully draped it over your shoulders, shielding your exposed skin from the chill.
As the washcloth made contact with your skin, a wave of relief washed over you. The soft, moist fabric was delightfully cool against the heated, sensitive areas he was so tenderly tending to. His touch was feather-light, his movements measured and deliberate, as if he were handling the most precious of treasures. There was a look of intense focus etched across his features, his brow furrowed in concentration as he meticulously cleaned you up. Yet despite the intensity of his gaze, his fingers remained remarkably gentle, caressing your skin with a care and reverence that bordered on reverent. 
When he finished, he lifted you effortlessly into his strong, steady arms, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed no more than a feather. His grip was firm yet tender, his muscles flexing subtly beneath your weight. As he carried you the short distance to the bed, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer power contained within his frame, and the remarkable control he exerted to temper that strength into something so delicate and soothing. 
Laying you down upon the mattress, he handled you with the same delicate precision, as if you might shatter at the slightest misstep. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he noted your expression, his hand slipping beneath your hips to gently position the pillow, the action almost casual in its familiarity. Yet there was an undeniable possessiveness to the gesture, a silent claim of ownership that sent a thrill racing down your spine. In that moment, you knew with absolute certainty that you were his, and his alone, a precious treasure to be guarded and cared for with the utmost devotion.
“Just to be sure.” He murmured the words softly, his deep voice rumbling with a hint of satisfaction. A small, self-assured smile played on his lips as he gently caressed your stomach, his calloused fingers skimming over your soft skin. He seemed pleased with himself, clearly enjoying the idea that he had left some kind of permanent mark on you, a tangible reminder of your intimate encounter. Of course, he was blissfully unaware that your IUD made the prospect of conception impossible, no matter how ardently he may have wished to impregnate you.
His hand trailed higher, stopping just above the pillow he had thoughtfully placed beneath your hips. His brow furrowed slightly, as if he was envisioning a very different scene playing out in his mind, one where his seed had taken root and begun to grow within you. The notion seemed to captivate him, his gaze growing distant and pensive as he contemplated the possibility.
Oblivious to his musings, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, your body sated and satisfied from the ardent love making that had come before. Soldat watched you slumber, his keen eyes tracing the delicate contours of your face, the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. He was acutely aware of you, his senses attuned to even the slightest movement or change in your demeanor. It was as if he was standing guard over you, even in sleep, his protective instincts firmly in place. A silent sentinel, vigilantly ensuring your safety and well-being, even in the most intimate of moments.
As the blaring alarm shattered the stillness of the morning, your eyes fluttered open, momentarily disoriented as the haze of sleep slowly lifted.  For a fleeting instant, you found yourself dislocated from reality, the events of the night before a distant, dreamlike memory.
You rolled over in the bed, expecting to find Soldat still lying beside you. Instead, you were met with an empty space where he had been. You sat up, disoriented and a little lost. There was a brief moment of confusion, a pang of disappointment at the realization that he was gone, the sheets were cold where he had vacated them. It was as if he had vanished in the night, leaving no trace of his presence behind.
The emptiness in your heart was palpable, a sense of loss and longing settling in your chest. The thought crossed your mind that it had all been a dream, a vivid and realistic illusion. But the lingering feeling of his touch and the soreness between your thighs reminded you otherwise.
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Chapter 7 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 9
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afreshstartlaw · 1 year ago
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adventures-in-mangaland · 11 months ago
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I'm going with 10 All Time Classics from the Captain America (MCU) fandom. I mean, they're all classics to me, at least. In no particular order:
1. This, You Protect by owlet
First installment in the Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail series, which are all amazing. It's a “Bucky escaping Hydra and rebuilding his sense of self” fic, which he does while spying on Steve. With eventual Avengers Family and a lovely cast of OCs bonding with Bucky in the meantime. It has a very distinctive perspective and writing style; Bucky's in constant internal (and sometimes accidentally external) dialogue with himself, making it hilarious and tragic all at the same time. I love it. I've recently been getting into The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells and this Bucky has a similar sassy-but-vulnerable vibe? Read this if you like that, anyway.
2. The One Who Knows by Dira Sudis (dsudis)
This is a Political Animals AU, in that no-powers Steve is inserted into the Political Animals world and Bucky is TJ. Discusses being outed and depression but is ultimately hopeful. The author is one of my all time faves and has written lots of great stories for this and many other fandoms.
3. Blue Scales by chaya
Steve is a merman AU. He's still Captain America, though. It's crack with heart, I love it.
Best line: "May your scales and your love story be our weird secret forever.”
4. Our Lingering Frost by eyres
AU where Bucky is rescued from Hydra in the 50s (?) and so is around for Steve to be found.
5. Assets Out of Containment by follow_the_sun
It's a classic to *me*, OK? Bucky goes undercover at Jurassic World just as that movie's plot kicks off. They're Hydra dinosaurs! It's just great. Also has a podfic and crossovers with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
6. Not Easily Conquered (series) by dropdeaddream and WhatAreFears
Some of the greatest fanfiction I've ever read, the whole series is epic. Anyway, it's a "Steve doesn't go into the ice" AU with added queer angst when (never sent) love letters from Bucky resurface. I particularly like the second installment in the series The Thirteen Letters, which are just Bucky's letters and are insanely well-written.
7. to memory now I can't recall by Etharei
Time travel AU! Featuring post-CATWS Bucky accidentally switching places with CATFA era Bucky.
8. If Wishing Made It So by Leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)
Genie!Bucky AU! This author is great at writing AUs with fantasy/genre elements, it was hard to choose. They've also written an excellent werewolf!Steve AU and a horse!Steve AU that I really love.
9. Into That Good Night by Nonymos
An Interstellar AU! Very angsty and tragic but with an eventual happy ending.
10. Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Speranza
Speranza must be one of the best writers in the fandom, so it was hard to pick just one of their fics. Other strong contenders were All the Angels and the Saints and The Fifties, so check those out too! But this one has a special place in my heart. Steve, Tony and Natasha accidentally time travel to WW2 London, leading to an accidental run-in with CATFA-era Bucky. The author does tragic and romantic time travel tropes so well, but with a happy ending.
I now realise that most of these are AUs, so here’s a bonus rec for a non-AU in-universe story that’s severely underrated and deserves more love:
+1
Heart, Have No Pity on this House of Bone by Sena
This story follows Bucky in-action in the Pacific Theatre. It’s very well written and, from what I can tell, well researched. Steve only appears in Bucky’s imagination and the story focuses on the horrors of war rather than romance, but it’s gripping! And it explores unrequited love, being closeted and period-typical homophobia, which I also enjoyed. I’m still holding out hope for a sequel.
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call-me-casual · 2 months ago
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I’ve been thinking about them so here’s a Scott Tracy [TAG edition] headcanon dump:
1. This is a bit of a retcon of an older headcanon, but Scott is 26 at the start of S1, just at the edge of turning 27, and 29 on the brink of turning 30 at the end of S3. I originally put him as 27, but I will die on the hill that Alan is 17 in S1 based on the uk driving age and I think I’ve seen somewhere that an old magazine or something said the age gap between Alan and Scott was 9 years?
2. Probably not going to be very popular but I headcanon that in the world of TAG, Scott was never in the military or GDF. No bereznik, no nothing. Instead his possible “militaristic” behaviour comes from Jeff’s training and Scott’s tendencies to copy his father.
3. Scott may have the colouring and significant facial features of his father, but actually has a good amount of his mother’s traits, such as his lanky build and personality. He loves his dad dearly and aspires to be like him, but also appreciates the little things his mother gave him that didn’t leave him a simple clone of his dad. He also inherited a few traits from his mother’s side in general.
4. Scott’s behaviour is often him attempting to act like Jeff for the sake of the others. It started as him trying to figure out how to lead, but there was also an underlying factor of him wanting things at home to stay as similar as they could. This is “Commander Scott”, whilst his real personality shines when he banters with his family, expresses his own interests and feels more comfortable.
5. Linking to headcanon 2 is what I like to call “The silver prince of Tracy Island”. Scott is a valuable asset, and people know this. Even before iR, organisations and militaries were scrambling to try and get hold of the firstborn of the legendary Colonel Jeff Tracy. They think that the kid who wants to be just like daddy will be easy to manipulate. But Scott always turned them down out of a desire to stay with his family and his incredibly pacifist nature. One of these organisations was the GDF, at the time run by a not so nice man. Not long before the Zero-X, they attempted to basically kidnap Scott and force him to serve, but were stopped by an irate Jeff who came in and saved him. This incident lead to the man in charge being investigated and replaced by Colonel Casey not long after Zero-X. (This is partly influenced by an old thread that I can’t find for the LIFE OF ME-)
His brothers know what happened, they know that there are people who want Scott Tracy for their own gain, and they are determined to protect him as he’s protected them. Sometimes, one might find a brother or two sitting vigil over their brother’s rare instances of sleep. His royal guard.
6. Scott’s pacifist nature comes from the fact that his earliest memories include the fresh Conflict of 2040. He became aware of the destruction through Jeff’s own experiences and hearing many, many news broadcasts and conversations. Scott may have been young, but he understood the gravity of what adults talked about following the conflict, when it was fresh in everyone’s minds. Whilst he doesn’t remember this, it was monumental in forming who he is today. He’s not a TOTAL pacifist (as seen when he attempts to punch evil Indiana Jones-), but he is determined to never take a life. He knows his father’s regrets, and promised to never repeat them.
7. Scott is stronger than he looks. Yes he’s light as a feather and could almost be called a twink, but he’s actually mostly lean muscle. iR promotes training for strength rather than show, so Scott isn’t very buff looking. He does however, lack a lot of body fat and can sometimes struggle to warm back up. His uniform is thickly woven and padded inside as a result, and on windy days at the island, Virgil will attempt to swaddle his big brother in blanket-thick towels post-swim.
8. Despite only stating “looking up at the night sky” (ouch) and “swimming” as his hobbies in that interview, Scott does have a few things he enjoys! Flying is obvious, but he also enjoys playing football (the REAL one, where you KICK the ball), hiking, model making and using burner accounts to wind up the bigots of 2060.
9. Scott has some variation of separation anxiety, even if he’ll never admit it. If a brother comes home after a close call or particularly long/dangerous mission, he’ll essentially wrap himself around them and refuse to let go. Because he’s mad at himself that he couldn’t protect them more, scared of what could have happened, and needs to assure himself that he hasn’t lost his baby brothers the way he lost his dad.
10. When there’s a particularly annoying or just frustrating board member at Tracy Industries, Scott will perform a series of secret pranks to get under their skin without any real consequences. The investors fear the coffee machine after it got filled with non-toxic washing up liquid found its way inside. He sits with Gordon to brainstorm new ideas.
11. If picked up from under the armpits or grabbed by the back of his shirt collar, Scott will go limp and one can perform the cat “temperament test” on him. Beware that this only occurs when there is a level of trust, otherwise expect resistance.
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ashprince-of-bel-air · 3 months ago
Text
Rolan week - Day 7: Before the final battle.
Some nice little Rolan smut, i went in a different direction to what I was planning but such is life. @tealfling I hope you enjoy it!
Nsfw and 18+
The battle at Ramazaith’s Tower was over, Lorroakan was defeated. It was a long and arduous fight, one that would never had been accomplished without Lady Aylin, it did help immensely that she had a personal vendetta against him of course, his relentless search for her fuelled her fire, otherwise you would never have defeated him, not without the help of an Asimar on the warpath to protect themselves and their loved ones.
As your party started to regroup after the battle you noticed a familiar face, Rolan whom you had encountered at the Grove and in The Last Light Inn, a prickly fellow to put it mildly, his face was bloody and bruised, it hurt your heart to see him this way, knowing how much he wanted this apprenticeship to only be abused in such a horrible manner. A large sigh escaped your lips, Rolan had led many a vituperative rant against you, annoyed that you were always the one to be the saviour, yet you did not have it in you to just leave him there, injured and alone. Something about Rolan had drawn you toward him, ever since you met him in the Emerald Grove there was a connection, albeit an angry one for now, yet there was something that pulled you towards each other.
Stepping forward you held your own hand out to him, a gesture that you wanted to help, one that he reluctantly accepted allpwong you to help him up, a task that made your heart soar as you smiled at him, hoping to bridge the animosity between the two of you, after all, he would be a helpful asset in the coming battle in Baldur’s Gate, you wanted all the allies you could get and you felt you well deserved him as an ally.
Rolan’s face distorted at you as you helped him up, almost disgusted at the fact he needed your help once again, he brushed your hands off of him as he stood tall and proud before you, not needing your assistance. You stood before him and nodded slowly, the new master of Ramazith’s Tower did not need an outside saviour, it only needed its sorcerer.
Days had passed since Rolan had become master of the tower, a feat he had very much revelled in so far, to hear of how the citizens of Baldur’s Gate revered him as such an accomplished wizard only made you smile and your heart flutter again. Yet such accolades were not enough, Rolan thought he wanted the acceptance of the populace but that didn’t matter to him, what mattered was you, and he did not have much chance to prove it, your time before the battle growing ever shorter. Though he thought that he despised you it was more complicated than that, he felt like he almost craved you, to feel the warmth of your skin upon his own, he could not explain why he felt this way, then again Rolan had never been good with his feelings.
Rolan eventually found you and your party in Sharress Carress, it was not a dignified place for you to stay but it kept you under the radar. As Rolan walked towards you he had to fend off prostitutes and women that would desire such a man as him, they pretended to be overly upset as he walked past and denied them. Eventually Rolan approached your own party, almost blocked from speaking to you by Astarion who has never trusted Rolan, only moving away at your request.
As you stood you dismissed your own party, making it clear that this interaction was a private one, one you were intrigued to behold, thinking your last interaction was the last you would see of him. Before Rolan approached you he ensured that he booked a private room, one that you could both talk to each other in without prying eyes, though words were not what Rolan had in mind, he wanted to address this chemistry between the two of of you and finally put it to rest.
It was a shock to you as Rolan took your hand gently in his as he walked you through the crowd, his grip tightened every time someone would approach you with their own proposition, he was moving quick to take you to the privacy of the room he had rented for the night, away from any prying eyes.
Once you had happened upon the room Rolan had locked the door behind you both, ensuring that there would be no undue disturbances. Before you could ask what he had brought you here for you felt his lips upon your own, his tongue dancing against your lips and entreating them for entrance and his hands roamed your hips, savouring the curves of your body.
You did not take much convincing to let Rolan's tongue have access, you were more than happy to do so. His hands upon you were like a dream come true, making sure to savour his touch and commit it to memory, for you may not feel a tender touch again as you head to face Orin and the Bhaalists on the morn.
You felt Rolan's guiding touch move you towards the bed, the backs of your knees knocking against the bedframe and causing you to fall upon it, making you look up at the firey Tiefling that stood over you. Rolan's eyes had always burned bright, the golden hue of his iris' was almost hypnotic on a good day, now they were positively aflame with passion, raking over your body and admiring your form, you could see the cogs turning in his head over which part of your body he would devour first.
The heavy weight of his body was felt upon your own, Rolan had finally descended upon you. Your neck was the first place to feel his touch, to feel his soft lips upon your skin whilst his sharp teeth nipped you and left marks claiming you as his, if you were to survive the fight against the Mindflayers and the Netherbrain tomorrow then he wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, finally coming to terms with what his feelings were towards you, he wanted you to be his.
The soft nip of his teeth made you moan slightly, squirming with pleasure beneath him, your body silently asking for more and craving to feel him more intimately. As Rolan continued his asault against your neck you felt his hand stroke up the length of your thighs, moving the layers of your dress out of the way. You moaned with desperation as his hand found your core, bucking your hips onto his hand as you were desperate for relief.
A soft rumble of a chuckle escaped Rolan's lips as he continued to kiss your neck, his hand was right where he wanted it to be. As his hands began to explore the sensitive area of your wet folds it made him even harder for you, shuddering at the thought of you being so excited and ready to take him. Rolan buried his head in you neck and bit down softly on your skin so as to stop him from groaning at how good you felt for him, wishing that he could make you feel this way forever.
A few whimpers and begging on your part was all it took to break Rolan's resolve before he positioned his cock at your entrance, moving his own robes to one side and one hand lining himself before your aching core, his other hand holding you down roughly on the bed. Rolan's voice was thick and filled with lust as he spoke to you, calling you a greedy girl before finally thrusting into you.
Rolan's length was thick and ridged, you expected the ridges but didn't think of how good they would feel inside of you, adding to the pleasure that he was already bringing you. His pace was hot and heavy now, desperate for his own release, almost feral as he began to pound hard into you. It was not all one sided, Rolan knew how to use his hands and use them well, his thumb found your clit and helped bring you to climax, feeling your walls start to tighten around him, causing his hands to because rougher and more desperate.
It wasn't long until your own climax was brought forth, the warm feeling of pleasure radiated over your body as you felt Rolan shudder into you, his body collapsing onto your own, breathless with his forehead slick with sweat, errant strands of hair sticking to his wet forehead. You both laid their breathless and fully clothed, clothes that would need washing and attending to, in your haste to feel each other you had no time to remove your dress or his robes.
After bathing and placing on new atire the atmosphere grew strange, like the two of you both wanted to say something yet you had no idea how to do so, ignoring the feeling you both retired to bed and fell asleep in each others arms for the night, content together and enjoying this new feeling you had for each other, happy to feel the warm embrace of another's arms for a change.
Morning broke and you left early, unable to wake Rolan and say goodbye, you knew he would try and talk you out of the battle with the Netherbrain and the mindflayers but it needed to be done. It pained you to leave him alone so peaceful in bed without having said goodbye, you only hoped that he would accept your apology when you hopefully returned to him after the battle was won.
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