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moodymisty · 1 year

Note

Hi love your fics. Would you be willing to do an angron x reader. He gets so little content

Part 2

Author's Note: You are my light, anon. Thank you for giving me the platform to go fucking apeshit about my favorite Traitor Primarch. Even if he's not a traitor (yet uwu) in this. It's not my best work, but I've been sitting on this idea for awhile now and decided to just write it before I lost it to time.

Summary: Angron takes interest in a poor young soul who's presence can soothe the nails, much to your own terror.

Relationships: Angron/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Uhhh it's fucking Angron?, It's pretty early so he's not as consumed by anger as he is later in the Crusade, Angron looks at another Primarch's serf and goes yoink I want that, He doesn't kidnap you yet but he wants to lmao, General 40kness so war death blood mentions etc etc (for those curious, this is vaguely based after canon, where it's said that the thought of Sanguinius could soothe Angron's Butcher's Nails)

Word Count: 2002

You have ten more minutes. You know once these men finish their set of training drills, you'll have to be back in the librarium. Your desk and it's piles of documents hails you like some sort of terrible beckoning call.

This has been your system for awhile now, as the frigid air blows through your clothing. The Astartes in training are entertaining during your rare moments of peace, as you lean against the railing to watch.

To think so few people will ever live to see an Astartes, and you watch them train so often. A luxury to be taken advantage of, you suppose.

You lean against the railing with more weight, your arms crossed over the ornate topping. They're so far away you can't quite tell what chapter they belong to, but you can see bits of white and red on the few men that are wearing pieces of their armor.

You wonder if they even know you're here, and if they did, if they'd even care. You're not of their chapter that much is for certain, as they lack the blue gold coloring and the stalwart regime that is signature of the Ultramarines. These warriors fight like it's a free for all, unlike the rigid one on one training the Astartes of Macragge are accustomed to.

You swear you feel the ground almost shake for a moment, but you just end up assuming that it's from the training down below. Or perhaps something elsewhere out of view. You pay it no mind, and continue enjoying your few minutes of respite.

Then there's a feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes your lips purse, looking up at the sky. You can just barely see the legions of ships moored close enough to the planet. There's always so many, even more so when a chapter returns to Terra for brief periods of time.

You hear footsteps coming from behind you; Heavy and armored. More than likely an Astartes, if you had to take a guess. It's better for your own well being if you just make yourself small and don't catch their eye, hoping they don't even notice you.

The footfall continues closer, and closer, until it sounds like they're mere centimeters from you. They must be passing by, until they suddenly stop. There's a shadow overtaking your form from behind, And when you see it's outline, you freeze.

The shadow is massive. It swallows you up and the ornate edges of the armor cue you into the fact that this isn't just anyone. Unless they are of a high enough ranking to sport such unique armor. But you're gut says that this shadow is far too large to belong to an Astartes, and every other sense in your body agrees.

It has to be a Primarch. You can see the absolutely massive shadow, the booming footsteps from earlier, and the feeling. The feeling alone makes you know well this isn't a random Astartes who's becoming oddly interested in you.

The sons of the Emperor are known to have what can only be described as an aura around them, which seems to affect anyone in there vicinity. How they react to it depends on the person, but for most, it's usually fear hidden underneath a mask of stalwart servitude.

Thickly swallowing, you glance as far to the side as you can to see if you can figure out which one it is.

You can see, gold. brushed, but faded gold armor. Beaten and worn though still containing a particular luster about it. Higher up your eyes travel, and you see a faded outline of something around the kneeplate. It looks like, spikes, or a crude representation of teeth. Up a little farther, and you see something dangling from his hip; Cleaned bleached skulls and-

Oh god. Oh god.

You feel your heart slamming against your chest. It's going to break out, you just know it and you can't do anything to stop it.

It's not as if coming face to face with any Primarch is something to be taken lightly. But this isn't The Angel or The Raven. This isn't even your own Primarch Guilliman, who you've only seen a few times in your life.

This is Primarch Angron.

You can't run from him. He'd kill you within an instant if not for the sheer disrespect of it, but for triggering something in him that makes him think you're prey. You only hope that you can hold strong enough that he doesn't hear your heartbeat, or how your trying not to shake in your boots.

Slowly you turn your head more, eyes trailing up his legplate, then his chestplate, before finally reaching his face.

The metal cords coming from his head fall over his armored shoulders almost like chunks of hair, though distinctly old and worn. The metal is rugged; Beaten and warped. Underneath some of them you can see deep red tattoos, some of which trail onto his face. They're warped and shifted by his numerous scars, scattered across his face from forehead to neck. They're all old, long healed and forever telling a story that only he knows.

His eyes bear down on you, the deep red unreadable. He isn't reacting to you at all, but that angered expression is permanently spread across his face. The deep furrow in his brow, the look in his eyes. He's like a pot constantly on the edge of boiling over and scalding everything close.

He has to be toying with you. Like a Fenrisian wolf tossing it's broken, beaten prey up in the air like a game before finally taking the final bite. Is there any other reason why someone who dances along the line between man and god would look your way? Is he just waiting to see how long until you react?

But as quickly as he arrived, he leaves. Turns on one massive armored boot and begins walking down the gilded hallway.

You only have the will to turn your head and watch him move away when he's taken more than a dozen steps away, seeing the battered gold of his armor. His thick furred cape just barely brushes the ground- the frayed edge ripped from endless wear and tear flowing behind him . You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and look back down towards the training Astartes. You peel your hands away from the railing you didn't realize you'd been holding with a death grip, palms slick with sweat.

You hoped desperately that it would be the only time you'd see the Primarch of the World Eaters. To survive once you'd already consider a miracle.

But it wasn't. Maybe the gods that are whispered about in various tomes have something planned for you. Maybe it's some sort of sick joke.

You see him once more not long later, and the exact same interaction occurs. You don't say a word, he doesn't either, and you assume you either pass some sort of trial only he knows or he just grows bored of you, and leaves.

The third time however, you dare to speak.

"Lord Primarch, do you, require something of me?"

Your voice is so soft he barely hears it, over the sound of clashing weaponry and fists on flesh. You look up at him but hesitate to look him in the eyes, but his own look traps you none the less.

You're a librarian or historitor of some sort in allegiance to the Ultramarines. He recognizes the blue and gold symboling embroidered onto your clothing from the various Astartes that traipse around with it plastered all over their armor, and their fancy, hand woven capes.

Gawdy and pointless. You'd topple over your own robes if you tried to run.

But you aren't running, aren't you?

Other serfs he passes by crumple like paper and plastic flimsies, but you're holding strong; A steel box that might be crumpling and walls concaving but still held together.

Angron looks to his left and over the railing out onto the vast open area. Khârn is out there, training Neophytes and newly blooded World Eaters. The warrior has no need for the diplomacy that you're more than likely used to from the Ultramarines, as Gorechild smashes into a thick plating of ceramite with one heavy swing. It sends the Neophyte to the ground in a split second. He looks back towards you, and notices that while your eyes glanced for a moment to follow his own, they now look back at him.

"You enjoying watching them fight." It's what he's found you doing every time he's passed you.

But it takes you a moment until you look up and see that he's staring at you, and that he wants an answer from you.

"Yes. I do."

You see his hand reach out, massive- Your eyes blink closed for just a moment in preparation for whatever he was about to inflict on you.

But instead, he grabs your jaw.

It still hurts, squishing your skin upward and forcing you to look up at him from an awkward angle, but it's far better than dying. You notice the way he stares at you.

He stares back, watching as your wide eyes dart around his face looking for answers.

Then he feels it.

He feels the stabbing, shrieking, aching pain of his nails dull ever so slightly as he watches. Glances over your soft skin. Meets your eyes. So the first time hadn't just been a trick of the light.

Your hands are frozen hovering at waist height, trying to figure out what you should do. Should you put them down, hold completely frozen until he finds or doesn't find whatever he's looking for in you? Or should you reach up and dare to touch the tarnished golden armor that has such a hold of you?

"Lord Primarch?" You mutter, hoping for an answer he doesn't seem keen on giving.

If anyone has passed by this scene they've not so much as uttered a word. None of them would, you'd have to be insane to interrupt a Primarch doings. You wonder for a moment if this scene would look comical from another's point of view.

One of your hands reaches up, shaking as you place it on the armor of his forearm. It's almost hilariously tiny- but much to your surprise the armor feels less cold that you would've thought. You place it there in the rough area of his wrist and try gently hold on and support yourself.

You're still petrified; Angron can see that emotion no matter how deep it's layered beneath other emotions on someone's face. When young men were thrown at him to die in those sandy pits, and he'd see the fear hidden underneath their anger. But as it fades and you become more confused by him than frightened, he feels yet another soothing wave go over his Butcher's Nails.

It's nowhere near enough- they still rip through his brain demanding him to kill to main to scream and bellow, but to edge that away just slightly is to give him relief he hasn't felt since before they dug this hideous tech deep into the recesses of his skull.

He doesn't know what it is about you that's doing it, but he knows he wants it. He wants you.

"Your name. What is it."

You stutter for a moment before speaking. The name is foreign; But given you more than likely hail from one of the many planets under Guilliman's rule, it makes sense.

His fingers shift over your face, and your jaw aches. He notices your hand on his arm and when he lets go, you use that same hand to rub your face.

He'll have to be careful. You're more breakable than him. But if you can dull the pain that sears through his head at every aching moment, then perhaps he'll have enough room in his head to spare the thought to be.

#i love a man that would literally just kill me. rip my head right off.#Angron x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #Angron/Reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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whirlybirdwhat · 5 years

Note

AU where Morgan reign of terror traumatizes Coby and he leaves with Luffy and Zoro instead of becoming a marine.

ANON I LOVE YOU YOU HAVE INSPIRED ME!!!! I don’t know how to make this a comprehensive story yet so have some headcanons about

~~REVOLUTIONARY COBY!!!~~~

Coby is disgusted by way marines are run

He has a “THIS ISNT JUSTICE” Revelation like in Marineford, but on a smaller scale. He sees how thin Zoro is, from being starved and crucified for saving a young, and how happy the people are now that Axe Hand is gone and is like - this isn’t the justice I wanted.

“I want to catch criminals, not harm innocent people.”

Coby starts thinking about his new companions and thinks Luffy’s rough and luffs feral, but he hasn’t hurt anyone. Axe Hand Morgan and his son have.

So Coby follows Luffy and Zoro into the great unknown.

He’s not entirely sure he wants to be a pirate however. Unlike everyone else he does have a moral compass.

“I don’t think I want to be a pirate.” He says after watching Zoro keep calling Luffy Captain.

“Then be a bounty hunter? Go after whomever you want” – Zoro, who does not give a shit about Coby’s internal crisis, but wants to support him.

⁃Coby: “Huh. Okay”

⁃Cue nights where cobys just thinking about his future as he drifts in the waves with Zoro and Luffy being dumb idiots together and just heading for their dreams

HE doesn’t know if he wants to be a bounty hunter, because how can he tell which bounties are for genuine crimes and which are for people the government wants to kill?

Potential other au lmao coby becomes a bounty hunter

⁃At orange town, he panics at Buggy and hides - he doesn’t know how to fight, but he does get the key from chouchou the dog. He’s helping, in his own way.

⁃Zoro sees this and is like “NO. You need to learn how to fight cmon we’ll teach you.” Like Luffy, he has an aversion to people who cant stand up for themselves, but he likes Coby so he’s gonna help.

⁃So Zoro and Luffy tag team each other and teach coby how to fight. He learns a weird mix of swordsman ship and punching that really don’t go together, but its better than what he had.

⁃In the meantime, Coby keeps on seeing all the places the marines dont reach and keeps losing his faith in the system. He starts wondering why the Marines are hailed as this awesome force when really a lot of the times they just abuse their power or do nothing to help people.

⁃At Syrup, he helps get Kaya to safety with Usopp, still unwilling to fight, but starting to regain his resolve to do something – to reclaim a dream thought lost.

⁃Coby’s disgusted at the Fullbuster guy on the Baratie and punches him.

⁃“YOUR FIRST CRIME!” Luffy says, cheerfully. The chefs applaud. Go Coby.

⁃Now, Coby isn’t advancing as fast in training, because one, luffy and zoro (and Sanji, eventually) aren’t Garp, and two, he doesn’t have that drive anymore. Why does he want to be a Marine who punishes justice?

⁃But when Arlong shows up Coby figures out his new dream. He knows what he is going to do.

⁃“I’m gonna take down the Marines - they can’t be this corrupt forever, and how many people are just innocent people? I want to give the world justice again!”

Luffy doesn’t really care about anybody else, innocent or not, unless his crew cares, but Coby cares. He’s not a pirate, but maybe if the law isn’t right, being free to do as he wish shouldn’t incriminate him?

⁃THEN the Strawhats run into Vivi and Chopper and suddenly there are more caring people like him, and more evidence that the system is corrupt which he already knows but how can he change it. He’s able to fight off some men now, and helps fight off some of Wapols men and the Whiskey Peak people, but that isn’t enough.

⁃All his friends have goals that seem impossible but they are so sure they alone are going to reach it, even without the crew there. Coby doesn’t feel like he can do the same.

⁃But hen theres alabasta - He’s stronger now, can through a punch, hes more lean with more muscle. He helps fight, and maybe it doesn’t do much, maybe the man (Luffy) who opened his eyes to the world is still there bleeding out, but he did something.

⁃And Ace and Robin have a hint for him, for his dream.

⁃(Who is this, Ace asks, referring to Coby. He has no role on the ship, but Luffy is proud to call him my friend, and say he wants to change the world for the better. To bring back what Justice really is. Ace cringes at the thoughhht of Garp but hums, and says theres a group of people who will do that – The Revolutionaries. Look for them, Ace says, and leaves. They will help you)

⁃(Robin, who knows all, tells him about Dragon unknown in the East Blue, his home, buth the most wanted man elsewhere. He has a plan, to take down the World Government, and perhaps Coby can find equal footing.)

⁃The Revolutionaries - Dragon, Luffy’s father.

⁃Coby has a goal now.

⁃He doesn’t want to say goodbye to the Strawhats, but he does, taking a boat lent to him by Vivi, and setting off to find the Revolutionaries. Pirates don’t care about fair fights and Justice, but Coby does, and the Revolutionaries do. His dream will grow there, but he will always be an honorary crew member of the Straw Hat Pirates (the first in some stories).

⁃At sea he runs into Helmeppo, whose drifting at sea stranded due to the marines, and helps him. They bond, and Helmeppo has done a little growth in character as well, and decides to follow Coby, much like Coby decided to follow Luffy.

⁃They run into Garp who is losing faith in the new generation and believes that maybe his son is right, gives them a few fists of training after asking about his grandson, and goes on his way.

⁃They save a town or two

⁃Coby punches several people in the face.

⁃Still no sign of the revolutionaries, but they have heard things from the grape vine that a pirate ship has fallen out of the sky into a navy base. Coby assumes at least Luffy is doing fine.

⁃Finally they run into - guess who – Sabo, on a information recovery mission, which Coby helps with. He questions them at first and learns their story.

⁃And knocks himself the fuck out when Coby says “Ace” “Luffy” and “Brothers”

⁃“OH SHIT THEY ARE GOING TO KILL ME” - sabo,after waking up, to a confused Coby and then profusely thanking him.

⁃Sabo agrees to let Coby and helmeppo into the Revolutionaries and trains them (wow Coby’s been trained by a lot of ppl at this point) if Coby helps him find Luffy and Ace.

⁃CUE WILD GOOSE CHASE WHICH ENTAILS COBY BECOMING THE HERO OF THE REVOLUTION just like Garp is the hero of the marines!! They just fight ppl but instead of in the name of becoming the pirate king, its for REVOLUTION and JUSTICE because Coby has a working moral compass.

⁃Coby develops new moves combining all that he’s been taught into a rather weird fighting style with a mix of weapons and martial arts. He gets a bounty, and it’s the worst day of his entire life and also the best. He can’t decide, Helmeppo Sabo and Koala (whom he met when Sabo had to explain why he wasn’t on his mission) laugh at him.

⁃Then Sabo runs into Ace, ands that reunion goes as well as you would expect, but that not the important thing, because its still not enough to not send Ace to Marineford. But they don’t know this. Yet.

⁃Sabo and Ace both get news about Ennies Lobby at the same time. Coby, when Luffy mentions knowing Coby to his visiting grandfather, receives a shudder down his spine as if he has narrowly avoided a horrible fate.

⁃But its whatever. Sabo contacts Dragon and plans to meet with him and Luffy at Sabaody, to keep an eye on the Supernovas and let Sabao and Coby see Luffy again.

⁃They never get a chance, as the Strawhat Pirates have disappeared by the time they arrive… and Ace is on the execution block.

⁃Sabo has to go save him and drags Coby along for the ride, who eagerly awaits the opportunity to THROW DOWN SOME MARINES

⁃Luffy still goes through Impel down and all that, but Sabo and Coby still arrive late to the battle.

⁃You know how Sabo saves Luffy and Ace in that one excerpt? Cue coby punching akainu in the face for trying to hurt his friends then dodging the hell outta there as sabo saves ace and luffy.

⁃He Learns his haki! Is like oh shit my crush is gonna die, better do some shit about that! The haki allows him to actually stop Akainu for a second, and stop the fighting, as he attempts to question the people – is this what justice is?

⁃Coby meets trafalagr law and also buggy again. He isn’t afraid anymore, and doesn’t hide. People are quietly proud.

⁃Luffy gets saved and ASL reunion happens.

⁃Luffy decides to train, and tries to get coby to come along with him.

⁃Coby Is just frustrated because he has a moral compass and Luffy is just here saying he’s now best friends with corrupt war lords and the pirate kings right hand man, who is a cool dude, but why luffy, coby is hurt, please stop punching people because you feel like it.

⁃(Coby’s just putting on appearances)

⁃HEs just a good boy who wants to tear down corrupt systems why do you make friends with criminals luffy why do you hurt coby like this

(Again, appearances, he’s not insane, thank you very much)

After leaving Luffy to train and after helping him due his oxbell thing, he leaves with sabo to FINALLY MEET DRAGON

He goes through his own two year training with helpmeppo who is along for the ride. Who Coby has now decided is stuck with him for life.

Training is hell, because Coby wants to find his own fighting style which means a lot of different stuff and seeing what works best and it HURTS

“Just be grateful im not my father-“ – dragon

Coby feels the shudder again

Yknow how The revs have that steam punk theme? Well

STEAMPUNK COBY!!!!  this is. so cool oh my gosh

Coby goes around freeing people and when they asked what inspired you hes like “rubber bastard who doesn’t have a moral compass fkdjsha,dk”

Hes gay for luffy he cant deny it

Luffy fanclub #1

Anyway, Coby goes on to take down Akainu and corrupt governments across the world, and makes his dream of tearing down the marines a reality post Pirate King Luffy

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tylerdown13rw · 5 years

Text

s. r. - it’s been a long, long time

requested: no

i thought of this idea while listening to “it’s been a long, long time” and at first i wanted to make it pure fluff, but that didn’t work out lmao, all russian words in here are from google translate!

During a mission, Hydra had finally caught you. They were ready to make you into the new Winter Soldier, unless you would give them exactly what they want.

Warnings: none? i tried to make it sad Word count: 1,842 24/12/2019

masterlist

“маленький,“ a low, mocking voice entered the dark room that you were in. You didn’t know how much time had passed, it could be anywhere from hours to weeks. The only lightsource in the room was the dim light from the lightbulb that was hanging from the ceiling, occassionaly swaying from left to right. When the door had opened, the bright light from the hallway shone right into your eyes. The room was small and cold. You were alone, except for the times where a Hydra soldier would come in.

They came in for different reasons. If you were lucky, it would be a soldier bringing a small amount of food and water, but if you weren’t.. You would be in for a ride. “Steven Grant Rogers, aliases Captain America, affiliated with the Avengers, romantically involved with Y/N Y/L/N.” Your tired eyes looked up at the soldier who was staring down at you, hands behind his back. “Y/N Y/L/N, affiliated with the Avengers, former worker at S.H.I.E.L.D, romantically involved with Steven Grant Rogers.” He spit out the information in a low voice, the accent making it slightly harder to understand what he had said. You had a feeling that this wasn’t a soldier that would be kind enough to bring you food.

Another voice could be heard from the hallway, the door still slightly opened, You couldn’t understand it fully, but soon enough you were pulled up. Standing on your own was hard, your legs were shaking and a headache was forming from the sudden movement together with the bright lights. You knew what moment would come. “Still no answers, маленький?” You tightly pressed your lips together, you would not give them the answers that they want. The whereabouts of Steve and the Avengers. The soldiers looked at eachother and with a small nod, they both took your arms, dragging you through the hallways to the door that you had come to fear. “No, no, no,” you whispered, trying to escape the grasp. Things that happened behind the door were never a good thing. A doctor would come in, injecting you with some kind of serum before whispering two words in your ear. “Hail Hydra.”

This time was no exception. They strapped you onto the metal seat, restraints tight around your body. “это новая версия.” This is the new version. The doctor nodded, taking the syringe from the soldiers hands before making his way to you. You absolutely hated this, the syringe, the serum, the stinging. The effect would be worse. Steve. It was always Steve. He would enter the room, but you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t your Steve. His actions would soon follow up to that. Punching, kicking, throwing and screaming. The violent actions made your body hurt, but you couldn’t fight back. You wouldn’t. Hydra wanted answers, they wanted to know everything about the Avengers. You wouldn’t give it to them. “You already know what’s coming, don’t you, маленький? Hail Hydra.“ The syringe sinked into your arm, and the bright room suddenly turned dark.

Only moments later the light came back and it felt like you were laying on something that was much softer than the metal seat. Birds were chirping and when you had opened your eyes, you saw that you were outside. Slowly sitting up, you run your hands over your face before taking in your surroundings. This was different from anything you had seen before. Did they let you go? Were you free?

Stretching your legs, you slowly stood up before walking to the house in front of you. The door was opened, so getting in wasn’t hard. The house was your dreamhouse, the house that you had talked about to Steve. The two of you always talked about buying a house together, that way you had some privacy instead of living with all of your friends. After entering the house, you hear a song playing, a song that you recognized as one of the songs that Steve always played on the recordplayer that you had gotten him for Christmas last year. The interior of the house was definitely from the 40′s, it looked exactly like the pictures that Steve had showed you when the two of you looked through the old photoalbums. The song got louder as you walked through the house.

Never thought that you would be

You had nothing to defend yourself with, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like this area was dangerous. You had ended up in the kitchen, the music even louder now. You turn to the right, your eyes landing onto the fireplace in the middle of the room. A livingroom. The recordplayer was set onto the table next to the fireplace. You could hear footsteps, making you take a step back into the kitchen. A tall, blonde man came out of the hallway, placing the sketchbook and the pencil that he was holding right next to the record player. The man in front of you was awfully familiar.

Standing here so close to me

Your Steve. A big smile formed on your face, the pain that you had at Hydra totally washing away. You took small steps, ready to run into the livingroom to finally have him in your arms again. But, before you could take a step into the livingroom, something stopped you. You frowned, placing your hand in front of you, pressing it against the invisible wall that had formed between the kitchen and the room right next to it. You looked from your hand to Steve, and back to your hand. You pushed your shoulder against the invisible barrier, throwing your whole weight into it, trying to get through.

There’s so much I feel that I should say

The clicking of heels on tiles came from behind you and you turned around to see who it was. Peggy Carter, one of the founders of Shield, Captain America’s first love. With a small smile on her face she placed the groceries on the kitchentable, taking off her thin jacket and draping it over the chair. You could hear her humming along to the music, and for some reason, your eyes couldn’t leave her face. You had always admired her, she was a strong woman and you even had the chance to talk to her a few times. It seemed like no one saw you, it wasn’t like you were hidden. You just stood in the middle of the doorway, a confused look in your eyes as you tried to understand why you couldn’t enter the room.

But words can wait until some other day

Peggy straightened her skirt before walking to the doorway that you were standing in, walking right past you and towards Steve. She was able to walk through it.. Why couldn’t you? Your fist pounded on the invisible wall, trying to get Steve his attention. “Why, don’t you look incredible,” Peggy’s gentle voice rang through the room. Steve looked up from the sketchbook that he previously had picked up again and placed the pencil on the page before closing the book. He smiled brightly, his blue eyes lighting up like stars in a night sky. “Care for a dance?” He stood up, extending his hand out to her. Tears formed in your eyes as you knocked on the invisible wall, harder than before. He loved you, he told you that over and over. You never blamed him for still loving Peggy, she was an amazing woman. He had left her in the past, but he would not forget her, which you understood fully. You had been there for him when she passed away, going to the funeral to support him and to pay respects to the woman. He had always said that she was his love in his past, and you were his love till the end of time.

“Steve, please, it’s me!“

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

The love in their eyes was flowing through the room, sparkling bright while the tears in your eyes couldn’t help themselves from streaming down your face. Steve his arms were around her waist while Peggy had her arms over his shoulders, her hands resting on the back of his neck. Both had a smile on their face, staring into eachothers eyes while the sunshine was shining through the windows. Steve leaned down, resting his cheek on Peggy’s head and swaying from left to right. Your eyebrows furrowed, it looked like he was looking straight into your eyes. Your fist pounded on the wall again, desperate words leaving your mouth as you tried to get his attention. “Please, it’s me! I’m right here!” No matter how much you got beaten and hurt, nothing hurt more than seeing the man you love with someone else.

Then kiss me once again

“Y/N?“ Steve his arms left Peggy as he took slow steps towards you. You were frozen in your spot, wanting to run to him, but the barrier was still inbetween the two of you. “Y/N, wake up!“ A confused look in your eyes as you slightly tilt your head while looking at him. You were awake, weren’t you?

“Y/N, doll, please. We have to leave!”

You gasped for air, eyes wide open as you sit up straight. Instead of the warm room, you were back in the room at Hydra. Where was Steve? He finally saw you. “Babygirl, you have to calm down for me.” Your head whipped to the right, there he was. You shook your head, Steve in the Hydra room. This couldn’t end well. You pushed yourself closer to the chair and farther away from Steve. His eyebrows furrowed and a hurt look formed in his eyes. “Doll, we don’t have a lot of time, you really have to trust me now?”

His eyes were bright, no sign of danger and when you looked around, you didn’t see any Hydra soldiers, except for the one who was on the floor, unconcious. Your eyes met Steve his eyes again and before you could think about your actions, you had placed your hand in his. He immediately pulled you up, leaving the room and running through the hallways. “Stark, have the jet ready. We’re almost out.” At the exit you spot a small group, and Steve nodded to them. “How is she doing?” You heard a hushed voice, sounding a lot like Bucky. “I don’t know what they did, but it didn’t look good.”

Your eyes were fixed onto the sky which had turned all kinds of colors, painting a pretty picture. It had been a while since you had seen the sky, and right now, it was al you could be focussed on. Soon enough the group entered the jet, immediately starting it before Steve sat down, you on his lap while gripping his arm tightly. He wrapped the other one around you too, pressing a kiss on your forehead before burrying his face in your hair.

“You’re safe, doll. I got you.”

It’s been a long, long time

#steve rogers #imagine #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

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beevean · 4 years

Text

Sonic Vocal Themes Ranking (with stage themes)

Because I’m bored, I’ve been in a lockdown since the 9th of March, and I like ranking stuff :V

I couldn’t decide between including stage themes or not... so I did both, lmao. You can find the other version here if you’re interested.

I also put some official remixes to spice things up!

118) Throw It All Away

117) Green Light Ride (Wall5)

116) Unknown From M.E. (Adventure 2)

115) Almost Dead

114) Fly In The Freedom

113) Lazy Days

112) A New Venture

111) Catch Me If You Can (Riders)

110) Set In Motion

109) Sweet Dreams AKON Mix

108) Poison Spear

107) Race To Win

106) Seven Rings In Hand (Fairytale Trance Mix)

105) Believe In Myself (Adventure 2)

104) All Hail Shadow (ShTH)

103) Open Your Heart (Generations)

102) Reach For The Stars

101) Raisin’ Me Up

100) My Sweet Passion

99) Back In Time

98) The Wicked Wild

97) Waking Up

96) For True Story (Generations)

95) It Doesn’t Matter (Adventure 2)

94) Kick The Rock!

93) My Destiny

92) Follow Me

91) The Chosen One

90) Super Sonic Racing

89) Escape From The City

88) A Ghost’s Pumpkin Soup

87) Nowhere To Run

86) So Much More

85) Cosmic Eternity

84) Super Sonic Racing (Generations)

83) E.G.G.M.A.N. (Doc. Robeatnic Mix)

82) Speak With Your Heart

81) Worth A Chance

80) Unknown From M.E. (Adventure)

79) Living In The City

78) Fading World

77) Dreams Of An Absolution (Starry Night Remix)

76) Escape From The City (Generations Modern)

75) Let The Speed Mend It

74) Rhythm And Balance

73) Dive Into The Mellow

72) Deeper

71) Seven Rings In Hand (Crush 40)

70) Can You Feel The Sunshine

69) Work It Out

68) Space Trip Steps

67) We Can

66) You’re My Number One

65) No Way Through

64) Escape From The City (Generations Classic)

63) E.G.G.M.A.N.

62) Seven Rings In Hand

61) This Machine

60) All Hail Shadow (‘06)

59) The Palace That Was Found

58) You’re My Hero

57) Sonic Speed Riders

56) Free

55) Justice

54) The Supernatural

53) Sonic Heroes

52) Dreams Of An Absolution

51) Open Your Heart (Crush 40 vs Bentley Jones)

50) Catch Me If You Can (Zero Gravity)

49) Moonlight Battlefield

48) Believe In Myself (Adventure)

47) His World (Zebrahead Version)

46) Supporting Me (Generations)

45) How It Started

44) His World (Blue World Prelude)

43) Virtual Enemies

42) The White Of Sky

41) Fight The Knight

40) Open Your Heart (K-Klub Remix)

39) Diamond In The Sky

38) You Can Do Anything

37) Fighting Onward

36) Unawakening Float

35) His World (Crush 40)

34) Green Light Ride (Tyler Smyth)

33) Free (Crush 40)

32) Sonic Boom

31) Team Chaotix

30) Through The Fire

29) Never Turn Back

28) Rhythm And Balance (Forces)

27) It Doesn’t Matter (Adventure)

26) It Has Come To This

25) Dreams Of An Absolution (LB vs. JS Remix)

24) Dear My Friend

23) Un-Gravitify (Crush 40)

22) Un-Gravitify

21) His World

20) Supporting Me (Forces)

19) For True Story

18) Supporting Me

17) Un-Gravitify (Electro Extended Mix)

16) Live Life

15) Sonic Boom (Crush 40 & Cash Cash)

14) Infinite

13) The Light Of Hope

12) Fist Bump

11) Sonic Boom (Credits)

10) With Me (Crush 40)

9) Green Light Ride

8) Knight Of The Wind

7) Green Light Ride (Qemists)

6) I Am

5) With Me

4) Endless Possibility

3) Open Your Heart

2) Live And Learn

1) What I’m Made Of

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icyharrington · 6 years

Text

Repentance (Michael Langdon X Reader)

y’all better believe me when i say, writing this fic kicked my fucking ass. holy shit. i really hope y’all like it tho !! i haven’t been this excited about an idea in a while. i didn’t proofread this tooooo hard, so i’m sorry if there are any mistakes!!

plot: you’re a sinner. luckily for you, michael langdon is willing to help you repent.

warnings: priest!AU, fem!reader, BLASPHEMY, i mean really lmao u deadass fuck a priest in a church, dirty talk, religious talk, female & male masturbation, exhibitionism, degradation, boot licking, cum play, spanking, fingering, blowjobs/facefucking, cunnilingus, rough sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting

word count: 7.8k

tagging some people i think might be interested: @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns @langdonsrapture @duncvn @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @langdonsinferno @americanhorrorstudies @xtheinevitableprophecyx @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning

You weren’t a religious person; not by any stretch of the imagination. You couldn’t recite a Hail Mary to save your life, and the last time you’d been inside a church was at your cousin’s communion years ago.

It felt so familiar yet so foreign, like the broken remnants of a dream from years before, as you made your way up the rain-slick stone steps of the old white church from your hometown. Against the dreary white sky stretched the slender branches of dead trees, splayed like corpse’s hands without their usual sheaths of greenery.

Why am I here? you thought, pulling your jacket tighter to your body as you took in a shuddery breath.

It was a good question that you didn’t have an answer to. You hadn’t planned to come here, but there was just something about the outdated building that drew you in; as you’d passed it on your drive home over break, you’d let your gaze linger perhaps too long, eyes traveling over the fading wooden planks and pointed steeple, topped with a lopsided cross that almost seemed ominous as the rain swirled around it. You’d found yourself wondering, half-heartedly, if the place was haunted.

This was the church your mother had been made to attend when she was a child, adorned with pink ribbons and patent-leather shoes. Was it always so creepy? you remembered asking her in passing.

You pushed open the doors of the church, wind rustling your hair back as you made your way inside. The inside of the church smelled musty and was visually unremarkable, furnished with rows of wooden pews, dust-laden bibles tucked into the compartments attached to their backs.

There was nobody there, which you’d anticipated, seeing that there had been only a few cars in the parking lot when you’d arrived. All at once you felt stupid for having shown up, unsure of what your goal had been to begin with.

The only sound in the church came from your boots against the blue velour flooring, fingertips tracing the cool edges of the pews as you made your way towards the back, where the altar was. Adjacent to the altar was a small wooden booth, which you immediately recognized as a confessional. Your grandparents had taken you to church, once when you were very young, and had insisted you sit in the booth and confess your sins. You’d felt so grown up sitting there behind the curtain, the small space seeming much more expansive in contrast with your petite frame; with your head bowed, you’d solemnly told the priest that sometimes, you took extra cookies when your mother’s back was turned, and in turn he’d instructed you to recite a Hail Mary.

Approaching the confessional, you tugged idly at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the frayed material. You wondered what sorts of sins you might confess to now; it wasn’t often you reflected on your actions or sought any sort of forgiveness, at least not from an omnipotent being that you were unsure about the existence of, anyway. You pulled it open, wincing at the jarring sound of metal rings scraping against the beam that the curtain hung from. The inside of the booth was dark and smelled like dust. You coughed.

“Hello, my child.”

Startled, you jumped at the slightly echoed sound of a smooth voice drifting from the metal grate. You leaned up against the doorway, one hand drawn to your chest, squinting in an attempt to more closely view the shadowy figure apparent on the other side.

“I didn’t know anybody was here,” you said softly, heart pounding. “I- I was just taking a look around.”

“A newcomer, are we?” The voice was beautiful; with each vowel the man formed came a sort of melody, low and languid, and you realized that your arms had become overtaken with goosebumps. Was the temperature of the little booth cooler than the rest of the church? You couldn’t be sure, but again you hugged your jacket closer to you.

You chuckled, taking a step further inside, suddenly intrigued. “Something like that.”

“You don’t come to these sorts of places often,” said the voice, a statement rather than an inquiry.

“No,” you agreed. “I don’t.”

There was a period of silence, and without being entirely sure why, you reached over and pulled the curtain shut, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal grate, you could see the figure of the man shift, and gingerly you sat down.

“So why did you come?” asked the priest, although something about his tone told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all of this small talk normal during a confession?

“I- I’m not really sure,” you said truthfully, folding and un-folding your hands over your lap as you became increasingly more nervous.

“Sure you do.”

You cocked an eyebrow, shifting on the uncomfortable surface below you, moving to dig your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket.

“Is there something eating at you, my child?”

Your lips turned down at the sides as you considered this. Was something eating at you? Deep down, in the depths of your mind that you didn’t dare tread?

“I- Maybe?” you said finally. Your entire body was on edge and you couldn’t be quite sure why. You weren’t frightened, not really, but you were certainly feeling something out of the ordinary.

“You’ve been thinking a lot lately, haven’t you?” said the man, and you found your eyes half-closing in bliss as you reveled in the silky texture of his syllables. “Reflecting. Worrying, even.”

You nodded weakly; despite the barrier between the two of you, he seemed to pick up on your wordless reply.

“You’re afraid that you’re a bad person,” he said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing around those last two words, a twinge of mocking to his tone.

Your mouth went dry, and you cleared your throat. “What makes you say that?”

“Don’t we all worry that sometimes? Fear ourselves, our wickedness.”

You blinked, utterly confused at the strange turn that this conversation was taking. Yet still, somehow, you felt compelled to stay.

His voice lowered to a breathy whisper, sending waves of…something through your body and making you squirm. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“Y-yes?” you croaked, eyes wide as a single slat of pale light fell upon the man behind the barrier, and for a brief moment you could see an eye, hooded and blue, looking in at you.

“We’re all bad people. Every last one of us.”

You swallowed.

“Even you, my sweet child.” He moved closer to the openings in the barrier, and you could just barely make out the shape of a pair of lips, curved and plump. “Especially you.”

“F-father-“

“-Langdon,” he corrected. “Call me Langdon.”

You repeated his name softly, so quietly even you could hardly hear it, and you heard the man inhale sharply at this. You liked the way his name tasted rolling off your tongue, sinful and sweet. There was no way this man was a priest. But if he wasn’t a priest, then who was he?

What was he?

“You,” he began, and you could almost sense the smirk on his face as he spoke. “Are a very bad girl.”

Oh my god. This wasn’t really happening, was it? Had you stumbled into a porn set unknowingly? Once the thought crossed your mind, you almost laughed. No, he couldn’t have meant it to sound that way. He was a priest, for god’s sake.

“So what do you suggest I do?” you asked timidly, looking down to your palms, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your fingernails had been digging into the damp skin. You couldn’t see Langdon, but you were sure that his gaze would be nothing short of piercing. “Recite some Hail Marys? Ask for forgiveness? You haven’t even told me why I’ve sinned.”

He let out a dry chuckle, and you heard a dull thud as you assumed his palms made sharp contact with his thighs. “Would you like me to show you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Show me what?”

“How I know that you’re a sinner.”

You chewed pensively on your lip, before clearing your throat with a sort of self-assured finality. “Fine. But I’m starting to think you’re full of shit.” You added the last part in an attempt to lessen how vulnerable you appeared to the man; you doubted it would change much, but something told you that you were going to need all the confidence you could get.

He let out an amused hum at your words, the silhouette of a hand reaching forward and pressing against the metal. Up close, you could see the protruding veins in Langdon’s large, calloused hand, with several expensive-looking rings adorning his long fingers, and you willed away a certain feeling that was threatening to impose itself upon you.

“Come on,” he urged, and you reached out to mirror his actions, carefully placing the tip of your finger against the metal.

In an instant the world was bathed with a sudden bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head you could see clear images; images of unspeakable darkness, of depravity and desire. You recognized them all from your dreams, from passing thoughts you’d tried to usher away, from the shadows cast across your bedroom walls late at night. The images were pulled straight from your mind.

You drew your hand back as thought it’d been burned, letting out a pitiful yelp as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked, and all at once you were back in the confessional booth, colorful spots dancing before your vision as if to taunt you.

“What the fuck was that?” you demanded, but the words sounded weak once they’d passed your lips.

“Oh, come on,” said Langdon coolly. “You can’t be that unfamiliar with your own mind.”

“Those- those things,” you murmured, teeth chattering as the booth seemed to grow colder with each passing second. “They weren’t from my mind.”

Were they?

You could see your breath in front of you now, and in one swift, desperate motion, you lunged for the curtain and tore it open, stumbling out into the light. The second you left the booth, you fell limply into the front pew of the church, heart hammering in your chest as you struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

You could hear something stir inside the booth, the door to the priest’s side cracking slightly before a man- Langdon- emerged from the darkness. He was tall and clothed entirely in black, save for a starched white collar, with golden waves cascading over broad shoulders and framing his angular face. He was handsome- devastatingly so, in fact, with fierce, light eyes and full lips that curved into a devious smile.

You supposed you should be afraid, after what he’d just shown you. You supposed you should turn and run and never look back, finally leaving your hometown for good like you’d always vowed.

But you didn’t.

“Who are you?” you asked him in earnest, breath catching in your throat as he approached you, an unreadable expression on his face as he looked you over.

He grinned, and in his eyes you saw something entirely wicked. “I’m the man who’s going to absolve you of all your sins.”

“Wh-what? You’re going to make me pray?” At this, he laughed, unbridled and loud.

“Oh, my poor, sweet, dear,” he drawled, dragging the toe of his impeccably shined black shoes along the ground as he clasped his hands neatly behind his back. “Of course not. I’m going to make you repent.”

He stopped only a few feet in front of you, tilting his head and dragging his gaze over your body, which was fairly well-covered in jeans and a jacket. Still, you felt exposed under his stare, helpless.

“But I’m afraid that you’ve committed so many sins in your lifetime that it would take far too long to have you repent for every single one,” he said matter-of-factly. “Which is why you’ll repent for each cardinal sin instead.”

“And what if I don’t want to repent?” you said defiantly, though you weren’t sure that this was the type of man you wanted to be disobeying. You couldn’t help yourself, though; you had to test the waters, see what might happen if you put up a fight.

He gave you a pointed look, and you thought he might utterly devour you right then.

“I don’t think that’s the case, though, is it?” he said, taking one hand out from behind his back and stroking the backside of his hand along your jaw. You tensed at his touch, a chill making its way up your spine when he used his thumb to trail lazily along your lower lip. “I think you want to be on your knees for me.”

You widened your eyes but said nothing, watching the cocky half-smile stretch across his perfect pink lips. Why weren’t you fighting him?

He dipped forward, bringing his face only inches from yours. He was even more beautiful up close, you noticed, and you squeezed your thighs together as a familiar ache began to make itself known between them.

“I could smell your cunt from the second you stepped inside this building.”

His voice had dropped several octaves, and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin. The vulgarity of his words had caused you to gasp, but you couldn’t deny the way your mouth watered at the sound of his velvet-smooth voice forming the word cunt.

“I could smell it when you came inside the booth, when you heard my voice.“ His eyes flickered as he paused to take a breath. “When you said my name.”

He spoke almost condescendingly to you now, and you were frozen in place as he pulled down your lower lip, running his thumb over the inside until it was slick with your saliva.

“Most people are afflicted with desires of the flesh,” he said. “But you- your thoughts were remarkable.”

“Langdon…” you mumbled, looking down to your hands as they fidgeted aimlessly over your lap. Your cheeks were hot and had flushed bright red- from the way Langdon regarded you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness only excited him.

“Never have I come across a woman who wanted to be fucked as badly as you do,” he said, so close to you now that his lips brushed against your cheek, sending a surge of electricity through your body. “And as you can imagine, I’ve encountered a myriad of sinners in my day.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” you breathed, surprising yourself with your sudden bout of bravery. He seemed pleased with this response, raising an eyebrow wryly before standing up straight to look down on you.

“The first sin you’ll repent for will be lust,” he said, and you found yourself biting your bottom lip at his commanding tone. “On your feet.”

You did as you were told, standing up from the pew and presenting yourself for the so-called priest. Then he circled you, never once allowing you to evade his sight, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he moved; finally he took a seat where you had been seconds before, splaying his palms over his muscular thighs.

You bowed your head respectfully as he observed you from his sitting position, skin burning under the weight of his pale-eyed gaze.

“Take off your clothes,” he said abruptly, crossing his legs and leaning back so that his long hair fell over the side of the pew. “Now.” Your mouth fell open, but you know better than to protest; there came that feeling again, sharp and prominent, and you quickly worked to pull off your jacket and discard it on the ground behind you. Next came your sweater and loose-fitting jeans, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and tugged them down your thighs, the dark denim pooling at your ankles. Once you’d bent down to take off your boots, you kicked your jeans behind you to join your discarded jacket and sweater.

You wrapped your forearms around your stomach self-consciously, all at once becoming hyper aware of the way your nipples had stiffened, poking noticeably through the thin, un-padded cup of your bra.

Langdon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and settling his chin in his palms before shooting you a venomous stare. “All your clothes.”

You nodded, reaching behind yourself to unclasp the hooks of your bra, slipping the straps down your shoulders with a timid reluctance. Pulling away the lace fabric from your breasts, you averted your eyes to the ground as Langdon took in the sight of you.

“When atoning for our sins,” he said softly, stretching his arm out to reach your face, gently guiding your chin to look at him. “We aren’t granted the luxury of modesty.”

He patted your cheek before hooking his fingertips into the waistband of your underwear, which wasn’t much more than a flimsy scrap of black lace. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering back into his head as he seemed to be basking in something, though you couldn’t be quite sure what. He pulled them down a few inches, exposing the smooth skin of your pelvis, and impatiently you hurried to meet his hands with yours, helping him tug off the garment altogether.

You were about to toss the underwear alongside the rest of your clothes when he shook his head and held his hand out expectantly.

Furrowing your eyebrows slightly, you handed him the bundle of fabric. You watched with slight embarrassment as he began to level it between his palms, working the material between his fingers as a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “They’re drenched,” he remarked finally, lips curling into a disgusted sneer. “You really are a whore, aren’t you? Walking around with soaked panties, mind plagued with vile thoughts- and regarding a man of the cloth, no less.”

Despite the biting nature of his words, you could still see a mischievous sparkle behind his eyes as he pocketed your underwear.

“It’s despicable, really. Pitiful.” His tongue danced over his bottom lip until it gleamed with spit, and with a quick glance downwards you saw that he was hard. “You’re lucky I’m here to help absolve you.”

You ignored the natural impulse to try and cover up, the degrading nature of the situation arousing you far more than you cared to admit. Your center was throbbing painfully now, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, your thoughts roaming without abandon.

“Show me how you touch yourself at night when you’re alone with all those filthy thoughts,” he ordered, reclining again in his seat and casually tucking one hand behind his head. In this position, his erection was impossible to ignore, and your mouth nearly fell agape at the massiveness of the protrusion.

“Y-yes, sir,” you whispered, dizzy with lust as one hand crept towards your inner thigh, easing yourself into the task. You widened your stance, moving your hand to the warm, padded flesh at the top of your thighs, wincing when you discovered the abundance of your juices that had build up there.

“Go on,” he said, sounding as though he were calling a dog over to him. At this your fingers made contact with your neglected, pulsing clit, spreading your wetness as you formed tight, firm circles over it. You whimpered lowly, partly from the pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation blooming in your throat, and he smirked.

“Come on now, we both know you can do better than that,” he chided. “I want to see you fuck yourself.”

You swallowed thickly, pressing a finger undecidedly against your slit. Sensing your hesitation, Langdon’s demeanor shifted from somewhat playful to completely unamused, and his hand shot out to grip your wrist. He let out a bitter sigh before he spoke, eyes boring so intensely into yours that you shivered.

“I said fuck yourself.”

Your breath hitched and you scrambled to obey his commands, immediately slipping two fingers through your folds and past your entrance. You groaned at the feeling of your walls stretching out, wasting no time before you began to thrust upwards into yourself, struggling to keep yourself balanced as your knees weakened with your impending orgasm.

“You don’t really expect me to believe that slutty cunt of yours can only take two fingers, do you?” he said, and with a labored breath you shoved a third finger inside, gritting your teeth at the intrusion.

The sound of your fingers pumping in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar, and you shut your eyes tightly in an attempt to ward off the shame that was rapidly engulfing you.

“Harder,” came Langdon’s harsh command, and you tried your best to comply, curling your fingers and pushing roughly against your spongey inner walls.

You were a panting mess, forehead shining with perspiration and lips bitten red and swollen, when he finally stopped you. It was cruel, the way he’d waited patiently until you were on the brink of release, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain; this was a punishment, after all.

Wiping your glistening moisture across your thighs, you pulled your fingers from yourself; then, looking over at Langdon, you wrapped your lips around them and sucked off the remaining wetness.

He stood up, casting you over with his shadow as he towered above you. Stepping around to face you, he used the back of his sleeve to wipe away the beads of sweat that had formed by your hairline, a look of sincere tenderness on his face as he did so. That tenderness, however, was short-lived, and within seconds he’d returned to his unforgiving stance.

“Kneel.”

You did without having to be asked twice, knees instantly making contact with the faded, discolored carpet.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be entirely necessary to have you repent for the sin of pride. It’s quite clear just by looking at you that you have none left. Void of any dignity, on your knees, writhing in desperation like a bitch in heat.”

You blinked at him with eyes as wide and innocent as a doe’s, pressing your legs together as a fresh wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that he was merely teasing you, hoping to convince you that you were exempt from his punishment, but you knew better. There was no way he was planning to grant you any mercy- you could see it in his eyes as he leered coldly upon you, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.

“But,” he continued, just as you’d expected. “Just to be certain that you’ll be absolved, you will repent anyway.”

He lifted one leg and planted his foot on the seat of the pew, presenting you with a well-shined, expensive looking shoe, the toe of which formed into a dangerous point. “Clean it. With your mouth.”

You poised an eyebrow at the man but did not argue, fearing that he’d punish you more severely if you disobeyed. His shoe looked clean enough, not a single scuff to be seen in the shining leather, and, scooting yourself closer to the pew, you ran the tip of your tongue along the side of it experimentally. It didn’t taste like much, which helped to ease your worries, and it wasn’t before long that you were flattening your tongue and lapping at the stiff material like your life depended on it.

“Good girl,” he praised, but there was little kindness behind the encouragement. He rolled his heel back so the sole of his shoe was in your face, and with a nearly inaudible huff you began to lick up and down the patterned grooves.

Cringing at the thought of all the dirt you were letting into your mouth, you were relieved when he pulled away and jutted your chin up towards him with the tip of his shoe.

“Turn and face me,” he said, taking a step back and folding his hands behind him. You shifted away from the pew so that you were eye-level with his crotch now, eyes falling to the straining bulge in the front of his dark, immaculately pressed slacks.

A ray of red-tinted light spilled through the stained glass window behind Langdon, bouncing off the black stone of his ring as he trailed his fingers towards his belt. At a teasingly slow pace, he freed his belt from its hold, the room silent save for the soft clinking of the metal buckle.

“Most often overlooked by humanity is the sin of gluttony,” he said, the sides of his face obscured by long tendrils of golden hair. He tugged down his zipper and unbuttoned his pants, taking a moment to palm at his bulge obscenely before reaching inside to retrieve himself.

“What do you hunger for, hm?” he asked, hissing as he cupped himself inside his pants. You could see his hand sliding up and down his length just out of your sight, and you stifled the sudden compulsion to reach into his trousers and grab him.

“Do you have cravings that can’t ever seem to be satiated?” His words flowed rhythmically, tone so soft you could almost swear he was singing to you. “Do you take all that’s given to you only to find that you’re still starving?”

You bobbed your head up and down, frantic and needy, parting your lips when at last he revealed himself to you. His cock was massive, just as you’d anticipated, thick and flushed deep pink at the tip. He ran his thumb over the swollen head, smearing a bead of precum across the toughened skin around his slit.

You felt lightheaded, overwhelmed at the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you’d so willingly allowed to defile you (and in a fucking church, of all places).

“You’re a ravenous little thing, aren’t you?” he mocked, fucking his hips into his loose fist with a throaty grunt. You kept your hands on your thighs, awaiting further instructions, growing restless with each passing second that his cock wasn’t in your mouth or hand.

God, you really were gluttonous.

He looked ethereal from where you knelt, full lips curved into a perfect “o” shape as he jerked himself over your face. It was fascinating to witness such a man allow himself to come undone like this, chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his brow with each stroke of his thick cock.

Tilting his head back towards the ceiling, he let out a guttural moan, quickening his tempo and bringing himself closer and closer to the edge. You were so turned on that you were fairly sure your juices must’ve dripped onto the carpet by now, a filthy proclamation of your desire; the uncomfortable throb of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Langdon nearing his orgasm, breaths strangled and raspy.

He peered down at you, wetting his lips. “Open your mouth.”

You unhinged your jaw, angling your head under his cock like you knew he wanted. He pumped along his shaft a few more times before releasing a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic bellow of pleasure floating from his lips like music.

“Don’t even think about swallowing it.”

You felt his thick load begin to settle on the back of your tongue, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. He tucked himself back into his pants, fastening his belt before sitting back down on the pew. He patted his thighs, eyeing you sternly, and obediently you approached him and settled yourself on his lap.

His warm thigh pushed against your core with little mercy as soon as you sat down, and you found yourself grinding down against it, chasing the pleasure that he hadn’t yet allowed you to obtain. At this, he landed his palm sharply against your thigh.

“My personal favorite sin is wrath,” Langdon said, placing his hands on your hips to keep you from wriggling around on his leg. “It’s both fascinating and amusing to see all the horrible things people can be pushed to do, all because of a little bit of rage.”

He lifted you up slightly and pulled your upper body over his lap; you complied with his adjustment, situating yourself so that you were laid fully across him, your hair falling in your face as your head hung forward- you clamped your jaw shut as tightly as you could manage, terrified of what might happen should you let a single drop of his load fall from you. His hand grazed the tender junction between your ass and thigh and you shuddered, whining when he wedged his knee back between your legs.

“I can feel the rage that’s burning deep inside you, my child,” he said, gathering your hands behind your back and holding them together at the wrist. He used his other hand to push down on the small of your back, in turn applying pressure to your soaked cunt with his knee; you cried out, the sound muffled through your closed lips.

“Do you ever wonder when your grip on your own sanity will spiral and you’ll finally snap?” You stiffened your jaw, praying you wouldn’t mistakenly let anything drip, the texture of his load seeming to become denser the longer it sat on your tongue. You couldn’t afford to be disgusted by the way it’d grown bitter and cold, coating the inside of your mouth with each minimal movement of your head.

“Answer me,” he growled, kneading your ass cheek hard enough that you felt his fingernails cutting into your delicate skin.

A pitiful “M-mhm,” was all you could muster.

“Such an angry girl,” he stated, voice dripping with faux-sympathy as he circled his fingertips over your thighs, preparing you for what was to come. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

Without warning he slapped your ass so hard that you nearly forgot about the cum inside your mouth, your body surging forward before he caught you and brought you back. He allowed you no time to recover from the blow, administering a second hit to the opposite side of your ass. You ground your teeth, eyes watering in both pain and focus as you fought to keep your mouth shut. He hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times, and inadvertently a tear dripped past your waterline and down your hot cheek.

He continued his ruthless assault on your ass, each smack harder than the last, until he landed a particularly intense one that you were sure would leave a red handprint on your skin. The force was almost enough to cause you to scream, and for a moment your lips parted, unable to bring one hand to stifle yourself given Langdon’s bruising hold on your wrists. In turn, a small stream of cum dribbled from the corner of your mouth and down your chin.

You hoped he hadn’t noticed, but realized you’d had no such luck when he released your wrists and instead grabbed a fistful of your hair. Yanking your head back, he lowered himself so that he could speak gruffly into your ear, tracing shapes over the irritated skin of your ass.

“Make a mess and I’ll have no choice but to extend your punishment,” he warned. He waited for you to nod in understanding before releasing your hair, straightening himself again and promptly making contact with the swollen expanse of your backside.

Taking deep breaths, you kept your eyes squeezed shut while Langdon beat down on you over and over; you probably would’ve enjoyed the spanking had it not been for the added responsibility of keeping a load of cum in your mouth, and you were beginning to fidget. His knee was still being held unyieldingly against your crotch, his slacks no doubt slick with your arousal, the friction sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body each time you twitched.

It was clear that the act of punishing you had gotten Langdon hard again, the rigid length of his cock pressing into your side as he hit you.

“This aroused you,” he said flatly, as though it had only been just now that he’d come to that conclusion. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. It doesn’t matter how you’re being touched, does it? You’re so needy that you’re just grateful you’re being touched at all.”

He let out a taunting laugh, running his fingers through the back of your knotted hair. “You may swallow now.”

You followed his instructions right away, gasping in relief once his load was all gone. The inside of your mouth still tasted like him, the vaguest hint of savory sweetness on your tastebuds. After spending a few seconds stroking your raw ass in steady, soothing motions, he grabbed your sides, manhandling you until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his knees. For the second time during your encounter, he unbuckled his belt, shimmying his pants and boxers partly down his thighs and allowing his cock to spring free.

You knew better than to succumb to your desires, stomach churning with want at the mouthwatering sight of Langdon’s erection. All you wanted was to feel him- pump your fist along his veined shaft, wrap your lips around his warm skin, glide down his length until you were convinced you could feel him deep in your belly. He was right- you didn’t care how he chose to touch you. You just wanted to be touched.

“It’s time for you to repent for the sin of sloth, my child,” he said, massaging the tip of his cock with his thumb. “Spoiled little sluts like you are always far too accustomed to being given everything they want without ever having to lift a finger.”

He took hold of your upper thighs, pinching the supple curves while he guided you so that you were straddling him. Your breath caught in your throat; you were so close to what you wanted you could almost taste it.

“Is this what you desire?” he asked you, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist and moving your hand to his cock. Instinctively you grasped it, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you traced along the prominent veins adorning his shaft.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “God, yes.”

“You should know better than to use the lord’s name in vain in the presence of a priest,” he teased, cinnamon-scented breath hot on your neck. He ghosted his lips against your jugular, just barely placing an open-mouthed kiss against it, erupting your body into chills.

“Please,” you all but whimpered. You were subconsciously rolling your hips down on Langdon’s lap, desperate for any sort of release, and he reached forward to firmly hold you still.

“Work for it.” He placed his hands down on either side of him, lips just slightly curling upwards at the corners as he resigned to resting with his back against the pew.

You eased yourself forward, holding his cock upright by the base. Lifting yourself up, you grazed the flushed head along your slit and dipped it past your entrance, jaw already unhinging at the slight penetration. Heart pounding, you slid down onto him, tears springing to your eyes at the sheer intensity of his thickness stretching out your narrow walls.

“Oh fuck,” you grunted, eyes rolling back into your head when all at once he filled you to the hilt. Langdon remained motionless, but you could see the way he sucked his lower lip into his mouth at the feeling of your pussy enveloping him, and from the back of his throat came a low hiss.

“That’s it,” he said encouragingly, clearly unable to contain himself as he began kneading your tits in his hands. You squealed, just barely rocking yourself, still trying to get used to having something so massive inside of you. “I want you to fuck yourself on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you said, reaching over Langdon’s shoulders and gripping the edge of the pew with both hands to support yourself. Langdon repositioned his hands so that they cupped your abused ass, latching his mouth onto your sensitive nipple and swirling his tongue over the peak as you hoisted yourself up.

You brought your ass back down, losing your breath all over again as Langdon nibbled at your hardened areola. You were already beginning to work up a sweat, but still you continued to fuck yourself as you’d been instructed to, gaining momentum with each bounce of your hips.

The lewd sound of slapping skin rang throughout the empty room, melding with the strangled, depraved moans escaping your throats. Never before had you experienced such unadulterated ecstasy, and you weren’t sure that you ever would again. You were insatiable, slamming your hips down at an almost painful rhythm, knuckles turning white over the edge of the pew. The head of Langdon’s cock reached your cervix and you saw stars, unable to think of anything but your impending orgasm and the beautiful man beneath you.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Langdon, please-“ came your incoherent cries, burying your head in the crook of his neck to more closely listen to his own sounds of pleasure. He was far less vocal than you were, being the composed man he was, but it was obvious that he, too, was coming undone by the way he was clutching your ass, forceful enough to leave bruises.

He growled, bucking his hips up to meet you, sending streams of tears flowing down your cheeks. It hurt, but you loved the pain, craved it, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to forget this for weeks.

“Fuck- I-I’m close,” you croaked, blinking away a bead of sweat that had fallen into your eye, heart hammering violently in your chest.

With that, he pushed you up off of him with such power that you stumbled back and fell onto your ass, his cock leaving you just as you were about to unravel. You sniffled pathetically, watching with glassy eyes as he rose to his feet, cock shining from the wetness of your cunt.

“Envy,” he said, glaring down at you, “Is the most laughable of the cardinal sins. Desiring what others have while ignoring your own blessings is truly humanity’s biggest flaw.”

He leaned down to thread his fingers through the hair at the top of your head, yanking you upright by the root so you were on your knees. “I know what you desire, pathetic girl. Release. Unfortunately for you, though, I’m the only one getting any of that today.”

He was taunting you, enjoying the distress evidently plastered across your face as he coerced open your jaw. Then he thrust his cock into your mouth, forcing you to taste your own arousal coating him, quickly deciding on a rapid, merciless pace to fuck your face with.

You couldn’t do much more than gag, taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed himself into your throat, using your hair as reigns to direct you.

You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed flush against the neatly trimmed blond curls surrounding his pelvis, one hand keeping you in place as warm spurts of cum shot down your throat. When he was sure that you’d consumed every last drop of his load, he let you go, tossing you onto your side like a rag doll.

Sobbing softly, you drew your knees to your chest, too humiliated to lock eyes with the stoic man who had reduced you to this. You were nothing more than a sniveling mess, defiled and debased, throat aching and lips trembling.

And yet still, somehow, your cunt was pulsing, screaming to be touched.

“Please, Langdon,” you mumbled in a daze, unsure if you’d even spoken at all once the words had left your mouth. “Please.”

He looked sinfully delicious from where he stood, towering above you as you lay sprawled across the floor, and with disappointment you watched him put away his dick. Using what little energy you had left, you tugged at the pristine hem of his pants, and he tilted his head inquisitively, a small smile creeping across his lips at your hopeless state.

“Please. I don’t know what you want me to do. Just— please.” You got onto your knees, nuzzling your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging to be fed.

“Please what, my child?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, wiping away your partially-dried tears in the process. “Was this not enough for you? My cock filling your mouth, your cunt? You’re asking me for more, when I’ve given you so much already?”

You lowered your eyes, ashamed.

“How fitting, then, that your last sin to repent for is greed.”

He gripped your upper arm and jerked you to your feet, casting you haphazardly onto the pew. Langdon licked his lips, admiring the view of your naked body strewn across the wood, your chest splotchy and red.

“You want to cum? Is that what you want?” he demanded, sinking to his knees and prodding apart your thighs. When you didn’t reply, he gave your inner thigh a hard slap. “Answer me.”

“Oh god,” you sighed, melting at the tantalizing feeling of air blowing against your pussy when he spoke. “Y-yes.”

“Hm,” he hummed, entwining his arms with your thighs so he could keep them apart, “Very well, if that’s really what you want.”

He lunged forward unexpectedly, burying his face in your cunt, lapping vigorously between your folds and gathering your sticky secretion on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangling with his flaxen waves, unintentionally rolling your pelvis against his face. Drawing his tongue between your outer lips, he met your bud at the very top and enclosed his lips around it, adding just enough suction that you were overwhelmed. Writhing helplessly against him, you screamed out as he dropped one of your thighs and impaled you with two of his fingers.

He was cruel, the way he pounded his fingers inside of you unrelentingly, his mouth working fervently at your clit. The edges of your vision blurred, and it wasn’t long before your stomach was dropping, indicating your approaching climax.

“I- I’m- fuck!” He flicked your bud once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you were cumming, head thrown back in euphoria as your orgasm consumed you.

Your cunt vibrated as Langdon snickered against it, and it was then that you registered the truth of the matter: you were well and truly fucked. He had no intentions of letting you breathe, instead continuing to toy with your throbbing clit, a third finger pressing inside you with a filthy squelch.

“Shit-“ you sobbed, his tongue forming brisk shapes over your bundle of nerves, fingers effortlessly working you open. You had no choice but to take it; the pleasure coursing through you was so potent that it was becoming unbearable, but you were sure that had been his goal, to punish you with the very thing you’d been yearning for.

He turned his fingers inside you, angling them to hit the deepest spots that nobody else had ever been able to reach. He curled them, brushing against something spongey and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for a second time.

Just as you’d feared, Langdon didn’t stop; now he was sucking so ardently on your clit that you could hardly move, falling limply on the back of the pew, legs weak and numb under his iron grip. He continued to drive his fingers deep inside you, your body shaking feebly each time his fingertips grazed your cervix.

“Langdon- please, no m-more,” you pleaded, but he only laughed, spreading apart his fingers inside you to stretch you further. He retracted from your clit with a noisy pop, and you were about to breath a sigh of relief, until he removed his fingers from your core and used them to replace his lips.

“N-no, it’s too much, please!” You were crying now, struggling against his mouth as he moved his head downwards to lick stripes up between your folds, his thumb forming circles over your defenseless clit.

He sucked one of your outer lips into his mouth before delving deep into your entrance, starting to fuck you with his skillful tongue. You could feel that well-known dip in your belly yet again, and the muscles of your thighs tensed and contracted when he pinched your clit between two fingers.

The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you were cumming; this time, however, was different- a wave of clear liquid shot out from your overstimulated cunt, soaking Langdon’s face and the front of his shirt.

He backed away, finally, lips pulling into an evil grin as he examined the mess you’d made. You were wide-eyed, shocked at your newfound ability, sweat-stained chest rising and falling. You were sure in other circumstances you’d have been embarrassed, but right now you were far too exhausted to care.

“You’re a messy little thing,” he laughed, wiping his mouth off with the back of his sleeve and licking his damp fingers clean. “So what do you think? Have you learned your lesson?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you said, shutting your legs protectively just in case he decided to go for one more round.

“Good.” He returned to his feet, looking just as pristine as he had when you’d first seen him, save for his gently tousled hair. “And what do you say, after I’ve gone through all this trouble to ensure your absolution?” He questioned you as though you were a petulant child, resting his hands on his hips.

“Thank you, sir,” you whispered hoarsely. Your body ached all over, from your ass to your cunt to your hips to your back. Langdon would be the only thing on your mind for the next week, that you were sure of.

“I’ll be expecting you back, though, so I can be sure you’re still on the right path.”

“Believe me, sir, I will be.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon smut #michael langdon one shot #michael langdon x reader #cody fern #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #ahs smut #ahs one shot #apocalypse #mine

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shikai-the-storyteller · 5 years

Text

CYBERVERSE WATCH!!!!!!! (Season 3 Episodes 1-4)

Episode 1

Lord have mercy on my soul IM TRYING TO CALM MYSELF DOWN ENOUGH TO WATCH THIS BUT IM TOO FRICKIN HYPED

Ok here are the things I know / were spoiled to me going in:

Gal Skywarp (can I get a Hell Yeah)

WHIRL (MY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!)

Quintessons (IM SO FRICKIN PUMPED TO SEE THEM)

“Transformation. Everything in the universe transforms. Sometimes, it is for the better. Sometimes, it is not.” *HAS TO PAUSE VIDEO FOR A MINUTE TO SOAK IN OPTIMUS’ WORDS*

“For this, I blame myself” OP when do you NOT blame yourself I mean SERIOUSLY DUDE....I GET WHY YOU FEEL BAD BUT YOU GOTTA STOP LITERALLY SHOULDERING THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD’S ISSUES

OHHHHHHH OH??????????????? OH???????? MEGATRON AND OPTIMUS BACK TO BACK AGAINST QUINTESSON??? BLACK ARMOR RODDY?????????????????????

EYYY SKYFIRE

I frickin scream EVERY time I see a bot I recognize

“There seems to be no Decepticon presence on Cybertron” THATS NOT SHADY AT ALL....did the Quints get them or are they hiding (probably the latter)

AW BEE.....don’t be so down on things it’ll be ok bud

CHROMIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

PERCY OMG HE”S SPEAKING (AND HE”S NOT TEXT TO SPEECH)

“Now you’ll be responsible for the deactivation of all the autobots” PERCY PLEASE SHE WAS TRYING TO SAVE YOUR LIFE

“Thanks a lot Perceptor” LMAO NICE

“Please do” PERCY COME ON NOW

HIS GLASSES??????????????????????????????? THEY JUST CAME OFF

PERCY OH MY GOSH someone please get this boy to a medic

“I have other means of perception” DANG CYBERVERSE PERCY IS SO COOL

I like the way Percy talks, it’s somewhat...stilted? And automatic? I’ll find better words to describe that later but it suits him. Really dig the voice choices for Cyberverse

PERCY NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE LET HIS SURVIVAL STAT EXTEND TO THE CYBERVERSE UNIVERSE

lmao I thought she was gonna say “Gotta lose these cops” me 2 Chromia

LASERBEAK!!!!! LASERBEAK BABY!!!!! I KNEW YOU WERE IN CYBERVERSE I KNEW I SAW YOU IN THE BACKGROUND ONCE!!!!

SHE PUNCHED A BIRD

OH SHOOT SOUNDWAVE’S GONNA KILL HER

BACKPACK ALL SPARK

Gosh Hot Rod you’re such a frickin jock I love you

FRICKIN

DRIFT

THERE”S SO MUCH TO FRICKIN UNPACK IN THAT SEQUENCE

DRIFT TALKED!!! AND THEN CAME OFF SOUNDING TOTALLY CREEPY LMAO

I LOVE RODDY DIPPING RIGHT OUTTA THERE BYE BUD

SOUNDWAVE!!!! BABY!!!!!!

They’re gonna shoot that outta the sky aren’t they OH NO THAT”S SO MUCH WORSE

Gosh I cANT GET OVER THE FACT THAT DRIFT SPOKE AND RODDY AWKWARDLY FINGERGUNNED OUTTA THERE THAT’S HILARIOUS

Drift: How do I invite Roddy to hang out and be my friend. Wait I know, I’ll say it in the most threatening way possible. Yes, he’ll absolutely want to be my friend now. :)

Episode 2

Megatron: Yes.... Me: *BEAST WARS FLASHBACK*

“SHOCKWAVE! You finally did something right!” Shockwave: >:/

SYWARP!!! SKYWARP??? SKYWARP!!!!!!!

Aren’t they worried by blowing up the ship they blew up the AllSpark

“WHO DARES? WE JUST FINISHED REMODELING THIS PLACE”

LET TELETRAN SWEAR!!!!!!

OH NO OPTIMUS IS GIVING HOT ROD THE LEADERSHIP SPEECH, IM WORRIED....

Like on the one hand I wanna see my boy taking charge but on the other PLEASE DONT KILL OPTIMUS

The shoulder touch.... :’) Papa Optimus is the best

Every time Megatron calls Optimus “Old friend” I cry

HELL YEAH AUTOBOTS ROLL OUT--oh they didn’t transform lmao that’s still cool

I’m so glad ShadowStriker is the leader of some of the Decepticon forces that’s cool

PROWL PUNCHED A CAR HELL YEAH

GET THEM WINDBLADE aw man I feel bad every time a seeker explodes, rest in pieces

ARCEE RIDING GRIMLOCK IS THE COOLEST THING EVER

OMG STRIKA

KUP?!??!!??!

WHIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!>?!??!!?!?!?! OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH WHIRL!?!?!?!?!?

WHIRL COME BACK I LOVE YOU

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

RATCHET!!!! SMARTYPANTS HE”S SO CUTE

SOUNDWAVE I LOVE YOU BUT PLEASE GIVE RATCHET A BREAK

BEE!!! SAVE YOUR MEDIC YOU GUYS ONLY HAVE ONE

omg Bee and Hot Rod fighting is so good

IS THAT IRONHIDE????

LMAO LASERBEAK JUST FLIES OFF WITH -- AHHH WHIRL!!! WHIRL SPOKE!!!! MY BABY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH NO THEY SHOT PROWL IN THE BOOB

RIGHT IN THE TIDDY

I love that Shockwave is watching this all go down like “Whatever

UH WHATS THAT NOISE

PREDACON??????

Episode 3

IM LEGIT HAVING TO TAKE BREAKS BETWEEN EPISODES MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

IM JUST SMILING SO MUCH!!!!!! WHIRL!!!!!!!! DRIFT / DEADLOCK!!!!!!! KUP!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I LOVE THE CYBERVERSE CREW

I totally thought Megatron was gonna say “I won’t, but THEY will!” but the episode intro cut him off so it just sounds like he confidently said “You’re right! I can’t beat you!” lmao

SCRAPLETS...SOMEONE GET SOME SPRAY PLEASE

OH GOSH PLEASE DONT REMIND ME OF THAT HORRIFYING SCRAPLET SCENE IN S2

oh wow Optimus is traumatized by that (I MEAN, THAT MAKES SENSE BUT WE ACTUALLY GET TO SEE IT WHICH IS NEW) poor dude, someone give this guy a vacation

LESBIAN MIND MELD

Chromia please don’t make Percy blow out his eyes again

“Team Hot Rod? Is that us?” YOU GUYS ARE SO PRECIOUS IT ACTUALLY HURTS

DRIFT!!! YO DRIFT!!!!!!! HIS EYES ARE BLUE RN

oh my gosh please don’t tell me he’s gonna follow Hot R--YEAH HE’S FOLLOWING HIM LMAO

Drift: Oh!! There goes my best buddy! I should follow him! :) Hot Rod: GO FASTER GUYS GO FASTER

IT”S A FRICKIN SHOCKWAVE ARMY

What’s stopping Shockwave from just overthrowing Megatron I MEAN REALLY

Lmao Hot Rod is so cute, he’s like “oh the floor’s sinking? Down we go I guess”

Man it’s so exciting to see the environment of Cybertron and how the planet looks, LIKE THIS IS THE STUFF I LIVE AND DIE FOR, THANK YOU CREW

DRIFT WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!!!!!!!

“Why the surprise? No one ever leaves the Decepticons” I LITERALLY GASPED OUT LOUD IN HORROR

DRIFT YOU CANT DO THAT!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!! BAD BOT!!!!!!

PLEASE SAY SIKE

HIS EYES CHANGED BACK TO RED JUST TO HAMMER THAT HOME JEEZ

“Hail this” OH MY GOSH RODDY

GOSH THAT MAKES ME SO SAD....DRIFT WHY!!!!!!!!

HOT ROD LOOKS SO FRICKIN COOL THOUGH OH MY GOSH

THIS FIGHT SCENE IS SO AWESOME MORE OF THIS PLEASE

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I JUST GASPED AGAIN IN HORROR AND PAIN, NO!!!!!! RODIMUS NO!!!!!!!! DRIFT HOW COULD YOU!!!!!!!!!!

THIS IS SO DARK OH MY GOSH nO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE OBVIOUSLY HE”S NOT DEAD BECAUSE HE HAD BLACK ARMOR IN THE SERIES OPENING BUT IF I DIDNT KNOW THAT ID BE FRICKIN SOBBING ON THE FLOOR FOR THE REST OF THE EVENING

Jeez team frat boys is not doing so hot

NICE ONE WINDBLADE

“OHO, I HAVE SOME IDEAS” WHEELJACK BUDDY...

TELETRAN NO!!!

WINDBLADE KICK HIS BUT

CYBERVERSE STOP PLAYING WITH MY HEART LIKE THIS!!!!!!!

Episode 4

INSECTICONS??????

lmao oh Bee

Man I love Wheeljack’s VA

“THIS is for Slipstream!” OH SHOOT YOU GO WINDBLADE

YOU BOTTLED UP UNSPACE?????????

“We got ‘em. Got ‘em good!” PLEASE STOP MEMEING (jk)

SHOCKWAVE OH NO

OH SHOOT RIGHT IN SHOCKWAVE’S CANNON

ARCEE IS SO FRICKIN COOL

Wait if the Allspark fixes things then it might bring Roddy / Drift back to life

OPTIMUS’ POWER WALK IS SO FRICKIN HOT

HE JUST SUPLEXES A SHARK AND SOUNDWAVE AND MEGATRON’S LIKE “OH NO THAT WAS KINDA HOT???”

BABY NO DONT SELF DESTRUCT

OH SHOOT WHAT

THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE

imagine ur soul is so corrupted you destroy heaven that’s essentially what’s happening here

CHEETOR NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Thank you for being my friend, Bumblebee” IM SOBBING INTO MY HANDS

“Wherever Bumblebee goes on Cybertron, Cheetor goes with him” SOBS!!!!!!!!!!!

Cybertron is gold! :O

LMAO GOT HIM GOOD OPTIMUS

“Don’t mind the shrieks in the background”

“It is our duty to make sure it Transforms for the better” wahh

#i talk #I'm watching Cyberverse #primordial robot hell #Cyberverse spoiler /#*HYPERVENTILATES INTO A PAPER BAG*

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leviosarpg · 5 years

Text

Congratulations, BAB! You have been accepted for the role of GISELLE ROSIER! Bab, you have no idea how thrilled I was to receive an app for Giselle, and boy did your app deliver. “You just gotta stop choking on who you are, and if you do, you’re allowed that - you gotta stop doing it so damn politely.” I swear that line hit me like a train...or a bag of bricks, because goddamn if that isn’t Giselle in a single line! Bab, this app was so flawless, I’m still reeling from reading it-- you managed to craft this vision of Giselle in her full beautiful, hypocritical glory but you made me sympathize with her. Your Giselle is an old soul who feels the weight of the world upon her shoulders--elegant, refined, but a little lost nonetheless, and you have me rooting for her, more so than I ever could have imaged. Thank you for bestowing this app upon me, Bab, I can’t wait to see your Giselle be brought to life!

Don’t forget to send in your account to the main and complete the items listed on the CHECKLIST!

THE PLAYER

name/age/pronouns/timezone: bab, 24, she/her, gmt+1

THE CHARACTER

desired role: Giselle Rosier

Giselle - Derived from the Germanic word gisil meaning “hostage, pledge“

Rosier - Rosier is French for "rose tree” or “rose bush“

Giselle immediately took my fancy because I love playing high and mighty characters with an impending fall. Her push and pull between the two sides who both advocate their respective truths plus her crumbling friendships that had kept the flame of fanatism alive for so long make her question everything and I feel like those are the perfect foundation for some juicy, dramatic threads which I love lmao time to mess her up big time!

gender/pronouns: female, she/her

extracurriculars: Slytherin prefect. Giselle was bestowed with the honor of prefect in her fifth year alongside Tom Riddle. Initially she was known to be especially strict towards muggleborns, as of lately her stern attitude has softened for unknown reasons.

The Harbingers. The role of prefect introduced her to Tom Riddle, her fellow male prefect for the house of Slytherin. They quickly grew closer, Tom fueled her fancy for long, intricate conversations throughout their walks through the halls of Hogwarts and thus he saw a highly worthy member for his group.

Dueling Club. Perhaps this isn’t the best reason to join a club that could possibly cause serious damage upon others, but dueling is an outlet for Giselle. The thrill of not knowing what her dueling partner’s next step will bring and how her counter-curse will impact them is a rollercoaster ride she wants to experience again and again. This rather adventurous side is reserved for her fellow club member’s only, outsiders certainly have troubles believing her out-going enthusiasm when it comes to club activities.

para sample:

first. diary, prologue.

If you’re reading this, there is an ebb and flow to your life.

Things becoming, art created, transformed; conversations organically layering onto other bruises, and right now, you are in the thick of it, but I promise you that rock bottom can be the strongest foundation for a stronger life. I promise you, the biggest revolution is ahead of you. The truth is, we never quite know the craters we left on someone else’s heart, not until it is too late anyhow. If you are reading this, you’re going to be okay. I promise you.

You just gotta stop choking on who you are, and if you do, you’re allowed that - you gotta stop doing it so damn politely.

- Giselle Rosier, September 1, 1945

second. echo.

seven.

Mid July and her smile is wide and effortless. The dry heat of the summer lays heavy and she has been going at it for days - a weary traveler, a foolish and gentle spy. A young Giselle lurks through life like it is an old house, teasing the wallpaper until it falls down. Layer by layer, story by story. Motions to people with the edge of her voice, with a change of her expression. They say her talents overflow, walking hand in hand with her never-ending curiosity. Outside the cityscape of London, she is sitting on the curb, wearing dried up loafers, a sweaty brow and the guilt of giftedness on her shoulders as she yet again slowly reads a book way ahead of her age. Sometimes reading out loud drowns the low hum of her family, so heavy with expectations whether or not she is listening. Her mother is there, the hummed secrets fading into light tunes when Giselle is around. Her brother is there, the huffs and puffs of him practicing potions in the kitchen still echo in her ear. Her father is there and she is supposed to think that she is exceptional. All her interests come so natural to her, the eagerness she displays is extraordinary to others but a mere flow of nature to her.

twelve.

Mid October and the sky is greying. She doesn’t say much and by now people know better than to light all the dark rooms in her house. And she can feel it, the tide of the past July. It’s like this one morning she looks across the dinner table and everything that has ever been left unspoken was being said. No one ever had to tell Giselle anything, she always managed to overhear snippets of her family’s whispers, the sight of her mother’s plastic smile became too familiar. Giselle can see it now, the way her parents speak in dim lit words, the way they mention her estranged brother’s name with little feeling and even more disgust. Summer returns with a vengeance, to collect its debts. How often do we wear smiles that hurt, smiles that tell us we have burned too long? Giselle feels heavy and the worst thing is, she knows the weather of leaving; the stale air, the dry summer heart.

When Giselle grows old enough to understand the poisonous hatred carefully cultivated between purebloods and muggleborns, her whole body tells a story of pain, like a sickness she refuses to treat. This is why she dislikes summer. The smell of warm summer rain hitting the dark pavement brings her back and it carries a memory she never wants to encounter again. At times it is difficult to continue to be radically soft in a world that sometimes gives more vinegar than honey.

fifteen.

Lately she has been trying to dream of something more, but how could it be any different? She negotiates with her quiet, she wanders, she bleeds. But no matter where Giselle goes, she returns to the Thames. And tries to dream again. Her mother once told her she is like a song played on loop. Enjoyable for a few listens until it bothers you and blends into the background. Funnily enough, Giselle always seeks to be present. Like, really present. Feeling every chill crisp morning running through her spine and the sore movement of her legs carrying her forward after another long day of school. The prickly nights lost in libraries as she drags herself through the endless pit that school is at the age of fifteen. Cold fingers reaching for a scarf that smells like that place she used to call home. Maybe this point was the closest she had ever come to the truth - souls laid bare. The whole wavelength set in an azure heat, the vibrations of her thoughts she did not dare to speak in the seemingly endless halls of her family’s home. This - the checked clocks and borrowed time, the heavy and relentless rock on her heart. Maybe that was the truth in its rawest form. Undeniable and without place. After all this, maybe she didn’t belong to anyone anyhow. Just to herself, in secret.

eighteen.

By now, her heart lies behind iron bars. She lets only few people probe her wounds, even less trickle deep within the tiny empire she had built within her chest. Oddly enough, it takes little for the foundation to shake, little for her to give them her country; and yet no one dares. She goes through life with a terrible intensity. Nights ago, numbness consumed her and she wished to be swallowed up by the dark earth. Too many vowels in her mouth, too many crumpled up receipts in her pockets. Her mouth twisted into rivers, pouring into too many oceans at once. At times, she says quite a lot and nothing at all. She always takes too much and gives too little. Reaches for people and finds salvation in the gaps of their words, only to wreck havoc again. Pushes and destructs, disappears like mist rising in the sky. It is always the same. They come for her storm and flee for calmer waters. No one writes a song about hurricanes.

third. diary, epilogue.

You’re 18 and you’ve had your heart broken. And it isn’t anything like the first time but nothing like the last time. You have exactly 15 sickles until winter break and crushing anxiety about tomorrow.

Outside the blue is heavy over the castle and the buildings blur to look like something out of another century. Majestic and grotesque. But all you can think about is the eternal void that is life. Sometimes you think believing in some kind of manufactured god would be better because you wouldn’t put so much stock in people’s words, in their alleged worth.

You tell yourself these things, you haven’t written home in a month. You feel you’ve lived a lifetime and there are unread letters in your nightstand’s drawer from family and foreign friends who love you but all you can think about is the ways you could disappoint them, like your brother did. And it is overwhelming and yet underwhelming because you constantly remind yourself this happens everyday and better you anyway because art.

You cannot be 80 when you are feeling 18.

— Giselle Rosier, November 18th 1944

OTHERS & EXTRA (OPTIONAL)

Headcanons

Despite her parents’ utmost efforts to pretend like this isn’t the case, Giselle has an older brother called Matthieu. Hailed as an ace in school and envisioned as a potential candidate for ministry of magic in the distant future, he was their parents’ entire pride for the longest time. The tides turned quickly when he fell in love with a muggle girl the summer after this graduation and decided that his infatuation was more important than everything else. He is now estranged from the family and Giselle has neither seen nor spoken to him in six years and couldn’t possibly fathom the consequences if she did attempt to contact him.

Now considered an only child, the pressure to continue the successful Rosier line lies heavily on Giselle’s shoulders. It caused her to cast a wall around herself, one that she has to climb herself to reach people and turns her judgemental, condescending, looking down at others. She knows the slightest penetration, the tiniest doubt sown into her mind could make the entire purpose of her existence thus far crumble, years of her family’s efforts dissolved into nothingness.

Enormous are the attempts to hide the fact that she likes muggle-made things. Muggle fashion, muggle music, muggle art. But the epitome of her hypocrisy was the liking she found in Olive Hornby, a muggleborn Gryffindor with a glow so bright, the moon would subdue to her. Although Giselle had her valid share of dates and experiences with other peers, she cannot deny that her mind still wanders off to the brazen muggleborn who had dared to make their lips meet.

Aesthetics/vibes/moods: loosely tied up hair, gold, dainty earrings and necklaces, being first at breakfast, white blouses, black loafers, reading glasses, last warm days of autumn, brown leather bags, caramel, twilight, sun rays shining through tree tops, brown sugar, cinnamon, pearls, last to leave the common room

You can find a moodboard here!

Magic

Education Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

House Slytherin

Best core class Potions, charms

Worst core class Herbology

Wand Rosewood and dragon hearstring, 12 inches

Patronus White swan

Boggart Herself as an outcast of society, accepted by neither side

Amortentia red bean paste, fabric softener, chimney fire

Quotes

„I was interested in everything and committed to nothing.“ Gregory David Roberts.

„I don’t do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision.“ Allen Ginsberg.

„A star-shower of blossom, of dew-like pearls, fruitfulness, beauty, life, rapture and fragrance.“ Victor Hugo.

„Life happened. In all its banality, brutality, cruelty, unfairness. But also in its beauty, pleasures, and delights. Life happened.“ Thirty Umrigar.

Personality

MBTI INTP - The Logician. Logicians view the world as a big, complex machine and have the ability to recognize how all parts are interrelated. Their endless ideas may seem counter-intuitive at a glance, and many never see the light of day, but they will always prove remarkable innovations. They are a reserved personality type, but if another person shares an interest, t hey can be downright excited about discussing it. Oftentimes Logician personalities get so caught up in their logic that they forget any kind of emotional consideration and sometimes dismiss subjectivity as irrational. They tend to become forgetful, missing even the obvious if it’s unrelated to their current infatuation.

Western zodiac Scorpio. A scorpio is a water sign, which live to experience and express emotions. Although emotions are very important for scorpios, they manifest them differently than other water signs. In any case, you can be sure that a scorpio will keep your secrets, whatever they may be. Scorpios are known by their calm, cool behavior and their mysterious appearance. Scorpios hate dishonesty and they can be very jealous and suspicious, so they need to learn how to adapt more easily to different human behaviors.

Chinese zodiac Fire tiger. People born in a year of the tiger are brave, competitive, unpredictable and confident. They are very charming but are also likely to be impetuous, irritable and overindulged. Moreover, fire tigers are optimistic and independent but possess poor self-control.

Temperament Choleric. People with choleric temperament tend to be goal-oriented and prove themselves to be logical and straightforward. They dislike smalltalk and enjoy deep, meaningful conversations. Choleric types would rather spend their time in solitude than in the company of shallow, superficial people.

Alignment True Neutral. A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition or personal code directs them. They may believe in personal order and live by a code or strandard, or they may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government. Being a lawful neutral can mean one is a truly reliable and honorable person or it could pose as a dangerous alignment when it seeks to eliminate all freedom, choice, and diversity in society. It is the view of this alignment that law and order give purpose and meaning to everything. Therefore, whether a low is good or evil is of no importance as long as it brings order and meaning.

#bio rp #bio rpg #lsrpg #skeleton rp #skeleton rpg #accepted #giselle

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firelord-frowny · 2 years

Text

in no particular order lmao here’s uhhhh a series of spacey alieny prose/poetry shit about me and the other me that lives in the pleiades.

__________________

Back on Earth, the Other Me speaks out loud to celestial bodies. She looks up and declares love and there, inside herself, a universe bursts into being.

***

Back on earth, the Other Me hasn’t been responding to my hails. At first I believed her equipment must be faulty. But now I think she’s just ignoring me.

***

Back on Earth, the Other Me left all the happiest parts of herself in the stargazing field. There are three of us now. Me, her, and the memories of midnight at Cherry Springs.

***

My other self back on Earth sent me away with blessings and well-wishes. She packed for me, in my stasis pod, all the good things she was able to grow on her planet. Gratitude. Kindness. Patience.

*** My other self in the Pleiades sends me care packages when she can. In them, she packs things that thrive on her planet, but can’t grow here: Contentment. Purpose. Knowing. I send her a thank-you letter. I look forward to the next growing season.

***

Back on Earth, the other me is experiencing cascade failure. I miss her.

***

I took my first breath on my home planet and ease settled into me like dissonance sliding into harmony. The gravity here suits me well. The weight of living isn’t too much to bear. All my needs fit into my hands cupped together.

***

I took my first breath on my home planet and noticed immediately how the atmosphere nestled itself into my lungs, comfortable, alive. The ground welcomed my footfalls and the breeze wrapped itself around me, safe and familiar. The world whispered to me in silent, gentle messages sent from its atoms to mine, “you belong.”

*** I’m not home in a place where love is limited. My heart is bigger on the inside, forever expanding. My love is a pelican. My love is a gulper eel. My love is an anomaly of physics.

***

[This one isn’t about my space self but i stumbled across it and have NO RECOLLECTION of writing it lmaoooo what the hell is this???] I see myself in every impressionist painting of light reflecting on water. The rippling, the undiscernible, the silver blue and the depth. You can reach your arm through the canvas and it comes out wet. You can tilt the frame and all the water sloshes to the other side. You can turn it upside down and I tumble out onto the floor.

***

I formed in a nebula full of elements that aren’t found here. I have nothing to replenish myself with but nutritionless atoms meant for life forms based in molecules that are different from mine. I feel myself get smaller and weaker every day.

***

I think I’m running out of ways to tell you that I can’t stay here. I wish you knew how to help me get home. ***

I witness history in the colors of the sky. I share with dinosaurs and cavemen and microbial sea life. They are my cousins and we love each other.

***

Back on Earth, the other me reaches into a black hole and pulls out enough light to find her way back home. She’ll be arriving shortly. The torch in her palm is made up of repurposed nebulae and ill-fated stars.

*** Back on Earth, the other me is very patient. She prays to a black hole. She sends her dreams into orbit and trusts in Gravity the same way others on her planet trust in God.

***

The other me in the Pleiades visits the Large Magellanic Cloud. She says it’s more impressive from afar than it is up close.

*** Back on Earth, the other me tears into her flesh to rip away all the rotten DNA. There must be a way, she thinks, to unbecome. *** Back on Earth, the other me can’t manage to stay safe long enough to catch her breath. The physics of her planet no longer allow for concepts like respite or calm or recuperation

*** The other Me in the Pleiades enjoys a comfort the likes of which I can’t cultivate here on Earth. She can will away anyone and anything that may8 ever seek to hurt her. She lives in light and openness. I curl up and cover my head and pray to probability that my world is still intact when I finally dare to look around again.

***

Can you hear me from where you are? I think I can feel you not understanding. I have so much to say to you. But this glass pane between us - it’s crystal clear, but I can’t tell if you can hear me. Will you say something so I can know? Blink your eyes. Or change your facial expression. I’m beginning to think you may be a shadow.

*** I’m beginning to think you may be a shadow, moving when I move, disappearing in the light. The other me in the Pleiades has one of you, too, except hers remains in the bright.

*** Back on Earth, the other Me tries hard not to worry about the hard things she is not meant to prove or understand. Usually she’s quite good at trusting the sky and the dark matter and the cosmic chemicals that bind her world together. But sometimes, like now, she struggles.

*** I remember the moment the universe thought itself into being But nobody but the other me in the Pleiades believes me.

***

Back on Earth, the other Me encodes an interstellar S.O.S. and broadcasts it on a loop. She slows her breath and her heart and lowers her temperature. In 2.5 million years, rescuers will find her in stasis deep beneath Earth’s rubble.

***

I’ll close my eyes and tap into the other Me Who lives far away in the Pleiades. When she wants to imagine what it feels like to be away from home, She closes her eyes and taps into me. We’re entangled together with bits of quantum string And whenever I get lonely, she tugs on her end to remind me That 135 parsecs away is a version of me who’s Home.

***

If I lie down very still in the dark and allow my gaze to sift through the spaces between the stars, I can feel my molecules dissolving into dark matter.

***

I would like to live in a place where simplicity is a virtue. Where others don’t insist to me that I should “want more out of life” when I say all I aspire toward is warmth, trees, and dark skies.

***

Back on Earth, the other Me reached into the past and, like a miracle, grasped herself by the hand and saved herself (again). She breathed life into the corpse and felt her own pulse flutter to life in her chest cavity. The two of them - the three of us - have so many questions for spacetime.

***

The other Me in the Pleiades walks into a room and trusts that she has anything at all in common with the other people in it. They smile when they see her. She smiles back, and they talk about things that matter to them all.

***

I feel most loved in the dark, sung into solace by sweet, arthropodal music, lulled into peace by constellations and clusters and planets. I can see depth in the spaces between the stars. I’m on the ground but I’m flying, too. Floating and falling all at once.

***

The creature on the other side of the glass is one I’ve never seen before, but in its eyes I can tell that it knows what I am. Neither of us have spoken. To most creatures I seem to be invisible and undetectable. But I think this one is looking at me. I raise my fingers to the glass, and it does the same. It has fingers, too. I ask, more a thought than a whisper, can you see me?

***

#i had initially put this under a read-more #because i felt an innate obligation to spare all of humankind from the potential inconvenience #of having to Look At My Words while they scroll past it #because god forbid someone have to pay any attention to me even if its just in passing #god forbid i neglect my moral duty to make it as easy as possible for everyone around me to pretend i don't exist #lmfao my self esteem is so fucking low its coordinates are smack dab in the center of the earth's core

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katsitting · 6 years

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Tomarry for 68 + 97 would be lovely!

Heroic Sacrifice + Time Travel. Oh boy, these two tropes are definitely Tomarry lmao. Hope you don’t mind the direction this went.

Warnings: childbirth and character death.

Harry needed to go back. It didn’t matter that things ended terribly for those that messed with time. None of that did.

As far as he knew, if he ceased to exist--if he was unmade by the decisions he took this afternoon, wedged between Ginny and his mattress, it was fine by him. He couldn’t stomach the aftermath of this war. Every life weighed heavily on his shoulders--his guilt at failing to save everyone--in failing to prevent Fred from taking his last breaths, from failing to save Snape, from preventing the Longbottoms from going insane, from failing to stop Voldemort from ever killing his parents, from failing to save Sirius Dobby, and Cedric...

Harry had to go back, and it was with a twist in his stomach that he shifted in bed to press a chaste kiss on Ginny’s cheek--in apology or goodbye, he wasn’t sure now--and left. Her warmth and the familiarity of her breaths the last thing he knew before he dressed and twisted the ancient time turner to the time Tom Marvolo Riddle was to be born.

And then, he was flying.

Harry didn’t know where he was when he appeared in an older, decrepit world. Everything was tinged in greys, the sky darkened with the promise of heavy snowstorms and hail. He knew when he was, carefully twisting the metal until his soul--broken, mangled, abused, he didn’t know--unfurled, alerting him that this would be the time. That this would be it. He would end things before they even began--

Riddle would die as he should have in his mother’s womb, a product of deceit and rape. A terrible fate for a baby to be born to.

He set a path through the ice, his feet crunching through the snow and his breaths heavy with smoke as he turned through alleyways and depilated buildings in search of the one where Merope Gaunt would go through, swollen with Tom Riddle and death.

At the sound of a pained scream, Harry was moving. It had been the scream of a woman, terrible and enthralling as terror often was. He turned a corner, running now, following the screams that went for what felt like an eternity.

It was when he was turning through the final alley, past a butcher shop and an apothecary that he stopped, catching sight of the woman he’d been looking for.

Merope Gaunt was curled into herself, in total disarray. Her dress was dirty and torn, her hair was knotted and long, winding about her throat and neck like live serpents strangled their prey.

Harry stepped towards her after being certain that this was who he saught, noticing the hideous features of her face--the way her nose protruded and her cheeks hollowed out--high and all wrong on her round face. She looked malnourished from his vantage point--weak and brittle. It was easy to see how she would die in child labor--how this would be the first death attributed to Tom Riddle’s name.

At the sound of his feet crunching on snow, Merope swiveled her head in his direction, her dark and wide eyes fixed on his. Harry tried not to cringe, to lose his nerve at what it was he planned to do. He would be taking this boy’s life--snuffing it out before it ever was. Stealing the only thing this woman had left from her noxious relationship with a muggle.

“Plea-please, help me.” Her voice broke, and Harry approached her, growing more and more unnerved by the tears streaming down her cheeks. She had been through years of abuse--he’d read her history. His heart twisted at what he planned, fingers forcing their way into his pockets to grasp at his wand.

The wood tingled within his grasp, pulsing in time with the beat of his heart--ready to do as his master bid. If only Harry wasn’t going to do this. If only he wasn’t going to take some woman’s life to--

“M-my baby. Sir, please help me. He’s all I have left,” the woman’s voice broke, and Harry did too. He’d never murdered someone before--even when they had deserved it. Not even his Crucio, when Bellatrix had snuffed Sirius’s life out, had amounted to anything. He had no malice--no desire to kill.

But he had to stop this all. He needed to do this, not just for him, but for the world waiting for him several decades into the future.

Harry pulled his wand and pointed it at the woman. ANd it was at that moment that she realized what he intended, that he was no mere muggle, but something more. Something dangerous, not only to her life, but to her baby.

And it was in that moment that Merope, weak and brittle, Merope transformed before his eyes. Her eyes hardened and she was on her feet, vaulting forward to protect what was nestled in her womb.

“No!” Merope screamed, and Harry stumbled back when she swiped at his wand, her fingers clasping around it to pull it back. “You won’t hurt my son!”

Harry grasped her by the shoulder, struggling to force her off, but she was merciless. Her fingers twisted, and his wand snapped in half beneath her grip.

Her mouth, hot and thick with the smell of her oncoming death, fanned over his face, and Harry, trying to twist away, felt her teeth dig into his neck--

Harry kicked, and it was only when he heard the sound of a loud crack in the silence that he realized what it was that he’d done. Merope fell slack in his arms, a pained wheeze leaving her even when her fingers still dug into his arms.

No, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to let her go quietly, her and Tom.

But there was blood everywhere--staining the snow. It dribbled on him--hot and sickening. His stomach turned, but still, Harry could only watch as Merope slipped down against him.

She crushed him beneath her weight, the movements of her chest the only evidence that she was still alive after he’d harmed her. He didn’t know where it was that she was bleeding, he didn’t know a kick could do so much damage in the first place--

“Mon-monster.”

The words were a slap to the face.

“Mons-ster.”

Merope did not stop repeating them. Harry should have shoved her off, but he couldn’t. All he could hear were those words, the same words he’d called Voldemort all those years ago, in his head.

No.

“You killed him. You killed him!” Merope was screaming now, hitting weakly at his chest until that too stopped. Her arms fell slack, as if she’d been suspended in time.

Terror seized him, and he was rolling her to the side, turning to see for himself that no, he couldn’t have done this. No, this was all wrong. He didn’t mean for it to end this way--to do this--

“Tom--” a weak, broken sound escaped Merope’s blue-tinged lips, and then, nothing. Her chest ceased moving, and Harry scrambled to get her to move, to get her to say something.

She didn’t. Her eyes were staring unseeingly at him, accusing.

No, no, no, no--

Then, a cry. A loud ominous sound thundered through the silence.

It was a baby’s cry. It was unmistakable. He had to listen to Teddy cry in the evenings, learning just what particular cry meant.

He was scrambling now, unable to stop himself from digging through Merope’s dress, to see for himself that he hadn’t killed Riddle, that he hadn’t murdered a baby in cold blood when, in fact, he had planned to do this in the first place. He had come to murder Tom Riddle before he ever was, and now--

His fingers came away red, parting through the rivulets to find that in her last exhalation, Tom Riddle had emerged. The gush, the wetness that stained his robes, had been Merope’s water breaking, her last act as a mother before an assailant.

Harry’s fingers shook when instead of the cold and dead body of Tom Riddle, before him was the partial birth of a boy, his head and his arms curling around, reaching for something he could not see. The boy was crying, and Harry forced himself to move, to dig further in to force what little remained of the newborn from out of his mother’s body.

It should have disgusted him. He should have done everything in his power to make sure that the boy never lived, but here he was, cradling the baby in his arms, drenched with blood.

The boy was crying endlessly, until that too stopped. There was the sound of soft breathing, of a low noise that made Harry pull the baby away from his chest, to look at the newborn that would later grow up to hurt innocent people.

But instead of the face of a murderer, instead of dark eyes thick with hunger and hatred, he saw the face of an innocent.

His eyes were wide, staring at his face as if it were trying to memorize Harry. But that was impossible, newborns couldn’t see, not so early on. Not so--

The baby curled into him, desperate for his warmth, and Harry broke, pressing the boy closer, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t kill him. He couldn’t do it, not with a broken wand.

This wasn’t a murderer, Harry thought, rising from his place on the ground. He wasn’t a monster, no. He was only a child.

How could he hurt this child? How could he when this boy, laying in his arms, hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t fair to vindicate someone for actions they had yet to commit, for actions that could still be prevented, that could be changed with love.

It was there, in the cold winter, the sky grey and thick with unrest, that Harry decided not to kill him. He refused to be a monster, to be called the very thing Harry had refused to become.

It wasn’t too late for Riddle. Because maybe, and perhaps he was crazy for this, maybe if he showed Tom Riddle love, if he gave him everything that he never had while growing up, the future could still be saved.

#fanfiction tropes mashup #I did a thing #wow this is a lot angstier and dark #we got a heroic sacrifice right here in both senses of the term #Anonymous

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dreemurr-skelememer · 7 years

Text

💀 Buttercup and Cardamom! 🐐

okay so im keeping this in a read more since its really long

⭐Buttercup and Cardamom AU Headcanon Masterpost!⭐

1.(Undertale)

*Buttercup-

Personality: Kind, patient, intelligent, and shy…

Interests: Reading, Painting and Cooking …

Favorite Food: Avocado and Guacamole…

Fav Color: Gold…

Powers: Flaming bones, blue and orange magic, shortcuts/teleportation and gaster blasters…

💛💜

*Cardamom-

Personality: Kind, playful, brave and loyal…

Interests: Singing, Dancing and Gardening…

Fav Food: Pie and Ice Cream…

Fav Color: Purple…

Powers: Flaming bones, blue and orange magic, healing magic and karmic retribution…

FUN IDEAS FOR THE SIBLINGS:

1 Buttercup bullied a lot during childhood, thus making Cardamom gain a protective streak.

2 Buttercup is a master chef while Cardamom is the ultimate gardener.

3 Buttercup is bad at gardening (at any kind of outdoor activity) while Cardamom is bad at cooking but is aware of it.

4 Buttercup is a shipper and Cardamom loves to tease them about it.

5 Cardamom LOVES puns, pranks and knock-knock jokes while Buttercup likes puns and jokes but prefers silly animal videos.

6 Cardamom loves fashion while Buttercup is neutral with it.

7 Both love anime and manga.

8 Both of them love Star Wars and Harry Potter.

9 Buttercup has monophobia while Cardamom has a blood phobia.

10 Both siblings would be willing to die for the other.

11 Buttercup and Cardamom have such a strong bond that it’s unbreakable across all alternate universes.

12 Buttercup is not only great at painting and art but with knitting as well.

13 Cardamom loves to do sports, their favorite is basketball.

14 Cardamom also knows all kinds of dance styles.

15 Buttercup would write fantasy novels in the future.

16 Buttercup’s nicknames is Butter while Cardamom’s would be Cardie.

17 If Buttercup had a tumblr blog, it would a mix of his art, his fanfiction and reblogs of cute animals. If Cardamom had a tumblr blog, half of it would be videos of their song covers or original songs that Cardie made and the other half would be reblogs of what their family posted or the things that Cardie likes.

18 Buttercup will suffer from depression during their teenage years but would be pretty good at hiding it and Cardamom would feel sad, scared and powerless at what’s happening to their smaller sibling.

19 Both Buttercup and Cardamom would view Sans as the ‘Fun Parent’, Toriel as the ‘Smart Parent’ and Asgore as the ‘Responsible Parent’. Asgore is considered the ‘responsible one’ because he doesn’t let Butter and Cardie wander by themselves like Sans and Toriel would. (Since that’s what Sans and Toriel do with Frisk in Undertale! XD)

20 Both siblings love video games, specifically the Pokemon games.

21 If Buttercup had a undertale theme song it would be called ‘Star Eyes’ and Cardamom’s would be called ‘Trouble Maker’.

22 Buttercup though shorter, is the older sibling by a few minutes but everyone thinks that Cardamom is older due to Cardie’s height and protectiveness of Buttercup and both of the sibling were born in the summer!

2.(Underfell)

*UF Buttercup- Personality: Selfless, patient, intelligent, and tricky… *Cardamom- Personality: Good-Hearted, mischievous, brave and loyal…

*UF Buttercup would have one red eyelights and the other being gold.

*UF Cardamom would have red and gold eyelights, just like Toriel.

*Buttercup and Cardamom are rougher and edgier then their original counterpart but they are still the same compassionate kids and are undyingly devoted to each other.

*In Flowerfell, FF Sans would give Buttercup his star necklace and would give Cardamom his scarf!

3.(Underswap)

*Buttercup would have Cardamom’s playful and outgoing personality and Cardamom would have Buttercup’s shy yet sweet personality, but they would mantain some of their original counterparts traits and interests. (What they are is up to you!)

4.(Swapfell and Fellswap)

*They’re basically an edgy version of their Underswap selves!

5.(Reapertale)

*Buttercup- God of Stars and the Constellations…Powers: Telekinesis, Teleporting, Flight (with wings), star manipulation and can create light that looks like silver fire… *Cardamom- God of Rebirth and Reincarnation…Powers: Telekinesis, Flight (with wings), healing magic, can either create zombies or can reincarnate old souls into the next life…

(Asgore carries his trident (like in Undertale), Sans carries scythes and so Buttercup and Cardamom carry scepters.)

(Buttercup has black wings that have golden tips on the tips of the feathers, while Cardamom has silver wings.)

(Buttercup and Cardamom live with Asgore and Toriel on MT. Ebott (Home of the Monster Gods) but Sans and Papyrus visit as much as they can.)

(On a couple of random notes that are unrelated to the skele-goats, I headcanon that Reapertale Asgore’s powers are all of the elements of the sky including fire, sunlight, lightning, wind, rain, hail and snow…and Asgore has giant golden wings.)

(Actually, all of the gods have wings, Toriel has white wings, Sans + Papyrus have black wings, Undyne has yellow wings, Alphys has blue wings, Gerson has green wings, Muffet has purple wings, Grillby has orange wings, Asriel has rainbow wings and Gaster has dark grey wings with sparkles of purple, blue and orange in them… and if Frisk and Chara became gods they would both have red wings!)

6.(Outertale)

*Cardamom would have star eyes, just like Buttercup.

7.(Storyshift and Altertale)

*The siblings would rule monsterkind together should anything happen to Sans and Papyrus, since Asriel isn’t royalty in these Aus.

8.(UT Mob/Mobtale/Mafiatale)

*They would be born around the time Little Pup/Frisk is a teenager or young adult and after Frisk’s dies of old age, they would take charge of their parents’ gang.

9.(Horrortale)

(Let’s pretend Sans was pregnant with Buttercup and Toriel was pregnant with Cardamom around the time of Asgore’s death, shall we?)

*HT Buttercup- Personality: Calculating, patient , and insane… *Cardamom- Personality: Manipulative, loyal (to their family) and insane…

*Buttercup and Cardamom live with Toriel, so they could be safe from the rest of the Underground. Sans, Toriel and even Papyrus are violently protective of them.

*Sans and Papyrus would often visit the ruins to see the kids.

*They would join Aliza on her journey, cause their curious about what the rest of the Underground looks like.

*Cardamom and Buttercup won’t try to eat or hurt Aliza unless she tries to hurt or be mean to either of them…

10.(Dancetale)

*Buttercup’s dance style would be Tap Dance and Cardamom’s would know multiple styles, since Cardie is great at dancing in the original universe.

11. (Undersail)

*Skele-Goat Mermaids for the win.

12. (Birdtale)

Buttercup would have Blue and Orange wings and Cardamom would have Red ones.

13. (Overtale)

*Buttercup as a human would have a Soul of Kindness.

*Cardamom would have a Soul of Integrity.

*In this AU, they would be adopted.

*Buttercup would be half-british. (Since Buttercups can come from Europe, including Great Britian.)

*While Cardamom would be indian. (Since the cardamom spice, comes from India.)

14. (Pokemontale)

*Buttercup would have Dragon, Fire and Psychic Types.

*While Cardamom would have Fairy, Plant and Psychic Types.

*Buttercup’s starter would be a charmander, while Cardamom’s starter would be a chikorita.

15. (X-Tale)

*They would join the royal guard, like Sans and Papyrus.

16. (Errortale)

If a version of Error that belonged to a ‘Buttercup and Cardamom Sansgoriel AU’ existed, he would never stop searching for them and if he finds them, he would either be filled with happiness and relief or suffer from a reboot…

17. (Inktale)

Ink would be a troll and jerk to Buttercup and Cardamom, even if they are his kids. (I mean look at Paperjam!)

18. (Underfresh)

A couple of fresh parasites that Fresh gave birth to and are now possessing a version of the siblings? XD

19. (Underlust)

*All monsters are cured from the lust injections in this AU, so Buttercup and Cardamom are pretty much the same here…

20. (Reborntale)

*Buttercup and Cardamom would both be reborn into angels.

21. (Underkeep)

*They both would be a couple of fancy and regal fashionistas and would be called ‘The Little Darlings of Monsterkind’. (In this AU, Buttercup loves fashion almost as much as Cardamom.)

22. (Gaster Blasters AU)

Since only Buttercup can summon gaster blasters, only he can turn into one like Sans and Papyrus…

💖 And those are all my ideas for the Sweet Skele-Goat Siblings! So, what do you think? 💖

😍

th is is way overdue lmao i apologize

there are some that i dont agree with, like the ff one because i quite enjoy it just frans,,

i dont think sansgoriel will ever happen there tbh lmao

and for the humans, hmmmm

i could fix that, because someone sent me a buncha human designs which i really like!

i agree that buttercup would be british hm hm

though, with cardamom

they would be a scottish redhead with albinism

freckles are kept

the rest are fine!

probably last post about these two i’ll make for a long time

because i have so many asks and im too tired and too bored to use them

#buttercup and cardamom masterpost #long post #important #ref #buttercup #cardamom #thx for the asks but im tired #submission

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ewfwfeweer · 7 years

Note

hello!!! 'castle', 'clouds', 'blue', 'towel', 'tree', 'eyes', 'phone', 'hair', 'night', 'grass', just sending a few in the hopes that you can find at least one! i am terrible at coming up with words lmao i apologise. new meme, you have to write a story using all the awful word suggestions i sent you lol. i hope you're doing well alex!! and that your back feels better soon :)

You underestimate me, Rosie. And thanks! It still hurts, but not as bad as before. Anyway, here are all the words. Each from a different AU.

Castle - Post-Season 4 Canon Divergent where Lance joins the BoM

“You’ve come all this way for nothing then. Only Galra andthose of Galra-blood can be in the Blade of Marmora. Those are our laws. Ourweapons are tied to our bloodlines,” Kolivan explained. His voice seemedreasonable and calm, but for some reason, it felt to Lance like he was talkingdown to him. “It’s not too late. We can hail the ship back, so they can takeyou to the Castle of Lions.”

Clouds - From the Love Bug AU I’m doing with @angst-in-space

They made their way through the entrance of the base as thebattle raged on overhead. One of the bases gun turrets fired at an Anosmi militaryvessels, but it missed, sailing into the trees below. The laser hit the forestonly a few feet from where Keith and Lance were standing. After the blast hit, cloudsof black smoke plumed where the tree Keith had rested their speeder once stood.

Blue - Raised by Galra Keith, Eventual BP Lance Canon Rewrite

“Hey!” the intruder shouted at the red lion. “Hey! I’m yourpaladin!” He slammed his fists against the barrier, seeming to crumple in onhimself. “I thought I was finally worth something, but Blue rejected me. Notthat Allura doesn’t seem great, just I thought- I thought commanding Blue mademe special finally. I’m supposed to be your paladin. You’re the only one left.You can’t reject me, too.”

Towel - Cupid Keith, Human Lance AU

When Keith entered Lance’s apartment, he took in the dingystate of things, eyes wandering over piles of clothes that’d been left on thefloor, and the dirty dishes that hadn’t been cleaned. He might have beentempted to clean, if the sound of a door opening didn’t catch his attention.Keith turned to see his charge walking out, whistling to himself in just a bluetowel. When his eyes landed on Keith, Lance let out a blood-curdling screamthat made the feathers of Keith’s wings fluff and his eye twitch. He couldn’tstop himself from hating Shiro a bit for giving him this assignment.

Eyes - Loaner Body Sci-Fi AU

“You know why they like the younger bodies, right?” Hunkasked, keeping his voice low even though they were alone in the apartment.“You’re basically selling yourself out. I mean, they’ll be with you every stepof the way. Like, every step.” His eyes widened, and he gave a head nod as ifimplying something. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Phone - Alien Keith and Pilot Lance Soulmate AU

It was a beautiful day. The sun was out, shining brightly toanyone who wished to greet the day. Not that Lance would know since he had thecurtains drawn tight with the only thing illuminating the small bedroom was thelight of his phone. Lance was still in his blue silk pajamas, as he hadn’tbothered getting dressed or out of bed. He lay on his side, long legs sprawledout, twisted in the blue comforter and matching bed sheets. There was anothercall from his mom and then one from his brother. His sister had sent him sometext messages, but he didn’t bother opening them, knowing what they saidwithout even having to glance at the preview. He slid his tan-skinned thumbacross the screen, pulling the text so he could reveal the bright red button todelete them.

Hair - Rebirth AU

“Mullet?” Keith blinked. He tilted his head to the side,looking like a confused puppy. “You think I have a mullet?” His hand went up tohis hair. He glanced down at the paper. “Maybe I did get the wrong person.You’re not acting like you.” Keith grabbed the paper, placing it in his pocket.“Sorry I bothered you.”

Night - Wrong Blind Date AU

On their way out, Lance spotted a girl with a red rose thena guy with a white one at the maître de counter, but the couple only barelyregistered in the back of his head, as Keith’s fingers tightened around Lance’swhile they walked out the door into the cold night. Keith then walked to thevalet, handing him a ticket stub. He caught Lance’s gaze out of the corner ofhis eye and waggled his eyebrows at him as the valet walked away with a set ofkeys in his hand.

Grass - Castle in the Sky AU

Pulling at the covers, Keith turned on his side to attemptto fall back asleep when the scent of the sheets caught his attention. It wasearthy, a little like home, but instead of smelling like freshly cut grass andcrisp mountain air, there was a muddiness to the sheets, like caked on dirt,with a hint of a metallic tinge that lingered in them. His eyes snapped open ashe remembered the events of the previous night, of the people who kidnappedhim, and the pirates who were chasing him. He remembered falling from theairship, but not much else after that.

FANFICTION WORK-IN-PROGRESS GUESSING GAME

#alex writes #alex answers #ask meme #long post #sakuragimichi

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runningthe-maze · 7 years

Text

You Know Him?

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You knew Peter before Tony brought you along to recruit the one and only Spider-Man, much to Tony’s confusion. You finally get the chance to prove your skills to Tony, but it doesn’t go as planned.

Warnings: Awkward scenes bc I suck at writing battles/angst, angst, character death

A/N: I’m super sorry I haven’t posted anything lately, my laptop broke and I had hoped I would get it fixed before now but I have not :/ I’m posting from a family members laptop, so let’s all hope he doesn’t discover my blog lmao

"Hey, y/n. Why don't you come with me to recruit the kid? He's about your age." Tony requested. He was just about to exit the tower

"Okay." You stood up, following behind him closely.

Years ago, Tong had brought you in under his wing. You lived with him, exploring and improving your abilities. He had raised you for ten years, after your parents gave you once they found out about your 'gifts'. He was more of a father to you than your biological one ever was.

On the drive over, he explained to you that he was going to recruit Spider-Man, a young boy named Peter.

Peter had no idea what he was about to become a part of.

His Aunt had answered the door, shocked that Tony Stark was asking for her nephew. She invited you and Tony in, saying Peter was not home yet, but would be shortly.

Tony made up an excuse that Peter had applied to become an intern. You didn't pay much attention to their conversation, strangely interested in your surroundings. There was something vaguely familiar about the small home he lived in.

You excused yourself to the bathroom for a few minutes, unprepared for who you'd see when you came out.

Standing directly behind their couch, stood your friend Peter Parker. You two met three months ago when you left Tony's tower for a night, and kept up with each other through calls and messages daily.

Everything seemed to connect in your mind as you realized that he was Spider-Man. The apartment was so familiar because you had seen it before while on FaceTime, and that was his aunt May!

"Peter?!" You exclaimed, making eye contact with the boy. When he looked over it was his turn to he surprised. "Y/n?! What are you doing here?" He cracked a grin, walking over to greet you with an embrace.

"You know him?" Tony asked, receiving no response.

"I came with Tony, I didn't know you were-"

"Applying to become an intern." Tony cut you off.

"Um, yeah, an intern. Did you apply too?" Peter asked you.

"No, I live with him!"

His jaw dropped to the floor.

"Are you serious?! How come you never told me!"

"It never came up I guess." You shrugged.

"Wait. Are you related?!"

"N-"

"Sorry to cut this reunion short, but how do you two know each other?" Tony asked, clearly confused.

You laughed awkwardly, you'd hoped this would never come up. "I actually left the tower a couple months ago, and might have explored a little."

He narrowed his eyes at you, as you sheepishly tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Why didn't this ever come up, y/n?"

Before you could respond, he lifted his hand. "This isn't the time to discuss this. I apologize, May."

"No worries, I'm surprised she hasn't mentioned Peter. He talks about y/n all the time. I didn’t know this was who he spoke to! Seriously, he's always-

"I wouldn't say all the time." Peter nervously laughed, reaching his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

"Okay, back to business. May I have a word with Peter?" Tony asked. May nodded. "Of course."

—

With Peter at the tower more often, you two got to spend more time together. Your friendship grew quickly. You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss him when he left. He was the only person your age you got to hang out with. Things got boring when you were 15 years old and surrounded by a bunch of people more than twice your age.

He was a lot of fun to be around, and his other friends seemed awesome, too. He promised he'd introduce you to them someday. The boy was so surprised that you were living with Tony Stark and he hadn't known. You were just as surprised that he was Spider-Man!

Tony prepared both of you for the battle with Steve and everyone on his side. When Tony gathered everyone and set off for the airport, both you and Peter were ecstatic. You'd fought before, but Tony never let you tackle anything big. Your powers had been difficult to control, so you were required to practice daily. He taught you techniques on how to control them. You took this opportunity to prove yourself and your capabilities to Tony.

After speaking with Steve for a few moments, Tony ran out of patience. "Underoos!" He called. Soon enough, your favorite bug-man (or Arachnid, as Peter corrected) came swinging in. He stole Steve's shield, landing on top of a vehicle. He awkwardly spoke about his suit to Tony, then introduced himself to Captain America. You rolled your eyes with a smirk at how dorky he was.

When the battle finally began, everyone seemed to pair up on their own. You took on Ant man.

"Look, I don't want to hurt a kid." He told you. "You won't." You growled, producing a small light from your hand. You instantly threw it at him, creating a well sized ball of flames. He shrunk himself instantly, jumping onto your hand.

He flipped you over, attempting to drag your arm around your back.

You flicked him off, shooting neon purple flames his way and running towards another competitor. You found yourself shifting invisible to sneak up on Bucky and Sam, who were teaming up on Peter. They were sprinting down a hall when you reappeared in front of them.

They both ceased their movements, turning another way to escape. "Hi y/n!" Peter called. You smiled and waved before surrounding the two men in a ring of electricity.

"I'm sorry about all this guys," you apologized, "Can we still be friends?"

"Sure, kid. We don't blame this on you." Sam told you, looking at Bucky who nodded.

Bucky charged through the ring, swatting all the small spots on his body that lit on fire. Sam did the same.

Peter had webbed them to the floor but could not continue, because Sam had sent his little drone to Pete. He was dragged outside. You ran after him, shooting beams at the drone and breathing a sigh of relief as he safely swung himself to the ground.

"Thanks, y/n. This is pretty awesome!"

"Hell yeah, Pete."

The battle continued, practically destroying the airport. Metal scraps went flying in all directions, just narrowly missing people. You did your best to keep them off of you while searching for a leverage point.

Before you could process what happened, you saw the shattering of half a terminal above you. You cried out, unable to move out of the way before large blocks of cement and metal crashed down on your body. Your metal suit protected you from being crushed completely, but sure as hell didn't help the load of pain you found yourself in. Something sharp was digging into your leg, likely having severed a main artery.

"Jen," you whispered the name of the AI inside your suit, "Help"

Your suit seemed to have shut down, most likely broken from the impact. You were completely alone, you couldn't call anyone and you could barely move.

You began to push yourself up, desperately attempting not to get stuck. You had shifted the concrete enough to push yourself up by your forearms. The concrete surrounding you rumbled slightly, and a small chunk from the top fell to the ground. A small hole had formed, just barely enough for you to squeeze through.

You dragged yourself towards it, struggling to maneuver yourself through the compact shards. You got to the hole, sticking your right arm out first. One wrong slip up with your knee caused you to flinch and groan in pain, resulting in the entire structure to rumble once again, and create an avalanche effect. Your arm on the outside was crushed by a block bigger than your head, and everything inside was hailing closer to the floor. You had been sealed shut, and held down by immovable forces. A small puddle of liquid told you the injury moments before ddefinitely punctured your artery. More blood poured out than you would have liked, making you dizzy. The pain subsided quickly, it had been replaced with an unusual numb feeling.

Your world faded into darkness along with the sound of chaos hailing down from the sky.

Your fate was inevitable, you had accepted that. You just wished Peter or Tony would not be the ones to find your body.

—

Scott had enlarged himself, raining havoc on your teammates. They struggled to overpower him, unsure of how to.

"Anybody on our side hiding any fantastic abilities they could use right now? I'm open to suggestions." Tony called out to everyone, receiving no response.

"Y/n, what about you? You got something hiding in there?"

"Y/n?" He said.

"Where is y/n?"

Before he could say anything else, Captain America had challenged him.

Peter stopped to look around him, scanning the group for your face. You were nowhere to be found. A small flicker of neon light caught his attention, underneath a large pile of metal and concrete.

"Oh no." He whispered to himself, abandoning his current battle to search for you.

Peter found your hand sticking out from underneath, motionless. "Y/n? Can you hear me?" He called, pulling the pieces off of you as quickly as his body allowed him. "Y/n!" He uncovered your face, quickly removing your mask to check for a heartbeat. Your suit appeared to be damaged severely and shut down.

Your skin was cold and pale, with a slight blue tint, telling him you'd been gone for a while. You looked stripped of all life, like an empty glass.

Lifeless.

His breath hitched in his throat, as he pulled off his own mask to see you clearly. Your face was twisted in discomfort, a look of agony refused to leave. Peter held you close and silently begged whoever was listening to bring you back. The pit in the bottom of his stomach ached. He knew you weren't coming back, but didn't want to accept the fact.

He found himself pulling you into his lap, holding onto you tightly. The moment Peter noticed the pool of blood surrounding you, his heart shattered into a million pieces. The whole world disappeared around him as the two of you sat on the cold ground. Nothing else mattered in the world at that moment, all he cared about was what could have been running through your mind in your final moments of life. Did you feel alone? Scared? Were you in pain? Had you tried to call for help but were unsuccessful due to your suit deactivating? The thoughts sent chills down his spine. He cursed himself for not noticing your disappearance before, maybe then he could have prevented your death.

Peter hadn't noticed multiple sets of footsteps approaching from behind him.

No one spoke, only watching with horrified eyes. Tony removed his mask, running to you and Pete with trembling hands. When his gaze fell upon your face, he felt his entire heart plummet into his stomach. He saw the same thing Peter did only minutes before. Absolutely nothing.

He dropped to his knees beside you, reaching out cup your cold cheek. You were the only casualty from the battle. Tony swallowed hard and looked up to Peter, who refused to meet his gaze.

Tony cared for you like he would his own child. Hell, you were his child, biologically or not. He raised you, and tried his hardest to give you a good life without your powers holding you back. He'd experienced many deaths in his lifetime, none of them comparing to the pain he was in as he watched your emotionless face.

He mustered up as much energy as he could to give a small announcement to the group surrounding you.

"She's gone."

#peter parker #spider-man #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #civil war #tony stark #tony stark x reader #marvel #peter x reader #spiderman #marvel imagine #you know her

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