#ask metal organic au

[metal-organic-au]

This question is for our beloved metal organic Metal... !!WHY ARE YOU SO SEXY AND VERY VERY VERY VERY {HANDSOME}!! ~i mean, your eyes are very, very bright like ruby ​​red your body is perfect and peculiar with other mobians Your dark blue fur is straight and very soft like an angel's feather A good person. Just as I am, I leave you some cupcakes and cookies so that you feel happy with those tender eyes of yours~nwn

Ask [115]

I really appreciate that you like the design, it is something that certainly fills me with joy.

[artkotaro]

Silver Sonic looks like he'd bounce if he was dropped, he's so round

[Ask (85)]

Basically this is the relationship with these two...in the future they will know why.

[supd00dle]

In Silver's Timeline, are both Organic Metal Sonic and grown-up Sage the recurring baddies to Silver the Hedgehog (in similar vein to Eggman and Sonic rivalry)?

If so, I can't help but imagine Silver (going back in time) be caught off-guard by young child Sage and confused about Metal Sonic being silent and not having "organic suit" on standby.

Well I’ve thought about it but yeah, they’re the recurring baddies.

[th3e-m4ng0]

blub blub

their actual colors

[lm-tomatito]

show your adoring fans the granny tikal we need her

Can't believe this is the first thing I'm posting about my witch/ghost au, she's not even a main character in the story 😭 So Metal/possessed Sonic is in the background now

[notiddygothgf]

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE <3

|  come over tn?

|  i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

|  omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes. 

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe. 

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you. 

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you. 

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark. 

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision. 

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs. 

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze. 

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship. 

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp. 

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here. 

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you.  Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face. 

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue. 

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away. 

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears. 

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit. 

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red. 

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side. 

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination. 

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts. 

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you. 

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass. 

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father. 

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation. 

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him. 

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him . 

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole. 

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ���jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion. 

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly. 

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan. 

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!” 

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake. 

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–” 

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle. 

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck. 

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling. 

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there. 

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end. 

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…” 

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend. 

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth. 

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said,  “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke. 

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO    just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO    just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

[keferon]

"Why do you even want to go back to earth in the first place?" Prowl asked, to distract himself from the uneasy tingle in his wires, the touch and sound of something inside him.

Something small, like a parasite. But this was no parasite and so Prowl had to bear the oddity of it all.

"I'm still technically workin' for somebody. Also, I need food." Replied the tiny organic inside his chest cavity.

"We gave you food."

"Alien food! It may be softer than metal but it ain't edible!" Jazz retorted, crawling through the opening Prowl's inside shell had transformed and made space for. It looked like the hatch he used to get inside his own mecha too.

"Woah!"

Jazz was taken aback by Prowl's interior. Sure, it mimicked his own mecha quite well but everything about it was still so...alien. Sharp angles and brighter colours made for an interesting space to pilot.

"Damn Prowl! If I'd known your cockpit would look better than my own, i'd've suggested this sooner!" Jazz hopped into the pilot seat, checking if he even recognized the controls. Luckily, those were quite similar.

"Jazz."

A voice sounded from the outside, vibrating the walls of the cockpit in a low hum. Prowl's tone seemingly a bit flustered.

"Right, lets get this over with!" Jazz grinned, flicking a couple switches and pressing a few buttons. Atleast that's what Prowl assumed he was doing based on the odd tingles he felt throughout his circuits.

"Er- I ain't actually ever controlled a living mech before, so I can't give ya much more advice than to...relax?"

Prowl felt an uncomfortable sting in his lower back plate. He almost reached out to it if he didn't know it was Jazz doing it.

"Jazz!" He vented, the whirring of his systems and his stress echoing in the cockpit.

"Sorry! Y'gotta relax! It's like tryna' drive in the ocean." Prowl heard back from his chest.

He vented again. "This is...difficult."

"Y'have to trust me, Prowler. Lean back, let me catch ya."

Prowl let his optics drift into an idle stare, trying to focus his mind on just letting go, resisting the urge to tense up. His processor screamed danger, every will and force told him to panic.

Jazz's voice echoed into his audials, telling Prowl how good of a job he was doing.

Prowl relaxed, watching as his own hand slowly (involuntarily) lifted off his lap and waved back at him.

- Going absolutely bonkers over this AU sorry for the long ask I had to type it out -

IM ON MY KNEES YES YES THIS OH M Y. G O D KFLGMGNGJKDNFBVNFKF,F NFMFMFMVNVNJG THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING EXACTLY WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT . ANON LEMME KISS YOU

[sam-out-of-energy]

OKAY OKAY IM NO WRITER BUT

This AU has consumed me, ok ok slay

Again @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au

I thought about prowl and jazz on earth and Prowl being captured by humans and yeah yeah okay okay SO IMAGINE

Jazz wasnt fast enough to realize what the others had done with prowl

Prowl frees himself, prowl escapes by himself because Jazz comes in just. Too. Late.

Thats what i wrote lmao-

__

Prowls optic flickered in a dim light. Well, the one he had left anyway. A gaping hole now where his left optic had been before, circuits and wires exposed and tangled in a human scientists pathetic attempt at gouging out Prowls eye.

TacNet had been screaming error in his audials for the past few kliks, a blur of scenarios in his processor and a whirr of his engine told him he wasnt dead. Not yet.

"-because with this technology, we will be able to not only improve our mechas, but to create our own army." A frustrating, squeaky voice came to Prowl once he regained his sense.

Technology. That was all he was to them, to Jazz. A machine.

The organic was boasting about their achievements, about how with this technology they would create the perfect self-thinking robot. Ha.

A loud crunch rang out in the hall. Then another. Prowl lifted himself to sit where he had once been pinned down by metal, now torn off and dropping to the floor with a loud clatter.

"What in the-"

The general, or any of his subordinates had barely any time to react as Prowl whipped around, slamming his arm into the scaffolding they stood upon and bringing it down in a moments notice.

"I am not-"

He tore himself out of the restraints, standing. His arm plate would shift and move to make way for a blaster. Prowl aimed it up at the suprised organics.

"-your technology."

_______

Jazz had been running around frantically. Where's prowl, where's prowl, he'd asked everyone. They'd all told him no clue.

No clue his aft! It wasn't exactly like Prowl looked alike to any of the other mechas!

Did he run away? Why would Prowl do that??

Jazz had stopped in the hangar when it happened. A loud boom echoed out in the entire base. And another, and another. The floor trembled, concrete cracked the walls above.

He saw his comrades rushing for weapons.

No, no. It was exactly what he had feared.

Jazz was too late.

He'd arrive to a mess of metal, steel bars and concrete. Injured soldiers and bodies littering the floor where he stood, at the entrance of the hall.

"Prowl! Stop!" He'd yell.

Prowl would turn, looking over his shoulder and down at Jazz.

Well, down in the literal sense too, but down in a way Jazz had never seen him look before.

His optics- optic- was glazed over with a look that frightened Jazz to his core. Parts unreadable, like Prowl always was, but his lip curled down into a frown. Betrayal. His stare screamed betrayal and...

Anger.

Fury like Jazz had never experienced before. Not from Prowl. Never from Prowl. He'd been mad at the other before, sure, but it was always more like frustration, not pure hatred.

Now, Prowl looked at him like he looked at Jazz's comrades. Full of hatred for what they'd done, for what Jazz had done.

Jazz felt his own brain slow for a few minutes, but when he came back to Prowl had gone and he and any other surviving pilots were rushing for the mechas to give chase.

______

Jazz caught up to Prowl, late behind his brothers-in-mechas, staggering. This was all so sudden, he found his connection to the mecha a struggle at best.

"Halt! Put your weapons down and surrender!"

A mecha called out. Four- maybe five of them were stood on a highway in the desert, surrounding Prowl.

He can't put it down you dunce, it's attached to his arm, Jazz found himself thinking.

He saw Prowl's heavy venting, the drip of bright pink liquid from a surgery not-well-done, coming down from the underside of his face plate where it had been torn open.

It hurt him bad. If Jazz wasn't already struggling to keep it together, seeing the other looking like this didn't help him in staying connected.

Prowl's battlemask closed over the rest of his visible face with a sshink! and clearly, he was not coming easy.

Jazz watched, all he could do, as the other mechas charged in, trading blow for blow with Prowl, trying to grab or hit what they could to restrain him or to injure him beyond battle-condition.

Prowl grabbed one mecha, throwing them over his shoulder pad before another was already at his side. He turned and shot at them with his blaster, a blast through the underside of the right chest plate.

His optic frantically searched for the next target.

TacNet was still faulty, confusing and unintelligible gibberish ran circles in his processor as he tried to focus on keeping himself from being overtaken.

Unfortunately, Prowl now had a blind spot. A mecha came and swung around his left side when he was turned, grabbing onto his wing and with a loud wrUNCH-noise bent and tore half of it almost completely off.

Jazz's gut turned. The sound of everything else faded out when he heard Prowl scream in what Jazz could only imagine was fraggin' agony, ringing in his ear long and hard.

Jazz felt frozen. He watched the other curl in on himself and the opposing mechs surround him.

But that wasnt the end. A quick, muffled out communication between the boss and the other pilots, one Jazz wasn't paying enough attention to until he saw his fellow mechas begin to tear prowl apart.

Prowl had already been forced down into supine before the others began taking and pulling. First his blaster came ripping off his arm, his armour plates cracking as pieces snapped off in mechanic hands. His screams quickly became struggling, violent and heavy croaks of pain.

Something blasted through one of the mechas.

Then another.

"Gwen! What the fuc-"

The mechas turned as Jazz charged them, swinging his fist into the underside of ones chest, tearing out wires when he pulled back, to make sure he damaged something. He swung back at the next one and fired on the third.

"Dont touch him!"

Jazz yelled to the mechas lying on the ground, before flipping around and promptly rushing to Prowls side.

Jazz bent down and looked at Prowl, calling out his name as he did.

Prowl's optic was barely lit. His face engraved by his pain, straining to keep his systems running while barely avoiding an overload on his spark.

Jazz's mecha's chest opened and he crawled out, climbing down and landing on Prowl's chest.

"Prowl, prowler"

He called, leaning down and watching the other, eyes wide in desperation.

"Prowl! Y'gotta- y'gotta open up"

He was yelling, even if he didn't realize, slamming his palm against the others chest plates.

"Please! Please, Prowler, I'm gonna get you outta here-"

He watched the others unmoving face. Prowl's optic wouldn't even glance his way.

Jazz bit his lip so hard it bled before he dug his fingers into the crevices of the others chest, starting to pull, kick and struggle to open one of the latches.

He heard Prowl's venting get more rapid when the other finally looked his way, only to grimace from the ache Jazz was causing.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry Prowl! I ain't gonna leave ya-"

Jazz kept pulling, starting to dig into his pocket to see if he could use a torch and melt the locks open.

He heard a click and a fshhh as the latch he had been tugging on began to crack open.

Jazz didn't have time to thank Prowl for his co-operation, cramming his way inside the others cockpit. He heard Prowl's ventilation whirring fast and uncontrollably, noting also the spark and crackle of broken mechanisms in the cockpit.

He magnetized himself to the floor, dropping down to sit in the pilot seat, turning the controls on manually since everything else was basically fragged.

Prowl lurched up a little bit, letting out a loud yelp as he did.

"Sorry! Work with me here-"

Jazz pulled, fighting Prowl's failing systems together with him.

Prowl staggered, but slowly managed to get up on his feet, Jazz's control pushing him to move through the pain.

"I know where to go, follow me."

Jazz barely spoke out loud, focusing intensely on keeping Prowl moving so they could escape the other mechas before reinforcements would arrive.

________

Thats all teehee

[redflowersociety]

HEADLOCK - [Mouthwashing]

Part 1 - Part 2

It is the year 40xx: almost twenty years since what took place on the pony express cargo ship. You currently work in a space station settled right outside the dwarf planet Haphestus. While reviewing recent data of nearby free-floating objects, an abnormally large mass is located: it’s a cargo ship.

A/N: Hi! I had the idea for a… fix-it au for Mouthwashing with the inclusion of self indulgent Jimmy who takes responsibility. Generally, this is hopefully going to explore all the crew members dynamics if they survived. Basically the entire plot of the game is changed around…. So only read if you’re up for that!!

The sound of a printer buzzing and squeaking pulled your attention off the letter in front of you, and subsequently, the soreness in your chest, if only for a moment. Blinking your burning vision back into focus, you grabbed the warm papers and shifted the letter to the side, replacing its spot in front of you with the fresh inked reports. You sorted through each paper by area code, your brain pulsating at sheer amount of numbers. You rubbed at your temple as you copied down the information into a more organized spreadsheet. Once you got that done, you placed the papers into their respective folders on the wall across the room. You stood up with the hand-written spreadsheet, and exited your office, making your way down the metal corridors.

For the past 5 years, you had been the secretary of the space station settled just outside of the dwarf planet Haphestus (named for being a colony full of factories.) Your job brought along many responsibilities: The safety of the planet you guarded, and of course, filing all the data from nearby space junk to send back down to the planet. Whenever people ask what the job is like, you make a point to explain to them just how engaging it is to do the latter, making no effort to hide your sarcasm.

After a shaky knock at the door, your captain gave the okay to enter her office. “ Mx. Harold!” She greeted you with her usual polite, empty cheeriness.

“Miss. Riley, hey. Here’s the space junk data,” you spoke with less enthusiasm than you meant to, which caused an immediate jolt of panic to shoot through your body. Your hands shook as you placed the sheets onto her desk, and you knew in your gut that she noticed.

“You alright, dear?” She leaned forward in her chair, sliding the papers to the side. Her gaze was so sharp, it was as if it was shooting a bullet hole right through your face.

“I-..I’m alright, sorry, I’m just tired, drank coffee.” You swallowed, taking small, hesitant steps towards the door.

“You can tell me if something is wrong, you know.” She started to stand. Smiling.

“I’m alright, thank you.” You nearly choked on those words, having been standing there without breathing in for a considerable number of seconds. You turned-

“Sit down with me.” She stopped hiding her commands underneath the guise of a kind request. You did as you were told. Miss Riley shifted through the spreadsheets as you sat across from her for what felt like hours. Eventually, her fingertip traced down to a particular column. “You really should be more careful.” She flipped the paper to you, pointing out your mistake. You took a closer look now, having simply been copying and sorting without much thought. The object reported from the scans was unusually big, obscenely sized, and was reported to have the mass of iron.

“…Miss Riley, I just copied what I saw on the scanner reports.” you stammered, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself.

As if upset with you for having brought the information to her, she groaned, leaning back in her chair and turning her gaze to the screen on her left. As if she had seen a ghost, her eyes went large and her mouth hung slightly agape.

“…Miss Riley?”

Exploring old, decrepit cargo ships was never part of your job description. But, considering there being no protocol put in place for such a circumstance, Miss Riley found no issue in making you do it anyways. the sound of metal scraping against itself, and whirring pistons behind you made you jump. The doors were closed. You were on this ship, and had no choice but to look around all alone. You used a test strip to test for breathable air, and once confirmed, took off your oxygen helmet. The damn thing was way too heavy to walk around with.

The bright flashlight in your hand did little to soothe you in the middle of this darkness. The sheer amount of dust getting kicked up with your every step assaulted your nose and made you sneeze more times than you could count. On top of that, it blurred all that was more than five feet in front of you. For a moment, you considered putting the helmet back on.

Stepping through metal corridors with exposed pipes and circuitry, an unusual foam coating the walls in patches; the scenery, the darkness, and the silence aside from your one footsteps, created an ambiance that brought shivers up your spine. you spent a while searching- coming across various rooms.

You had to pry your way in, as the lack of power in the ship meant not a single automatic door, but when you stumbled into the medbay, the first thing that hit you was the smell of iron and rot. blood stained bandages and browned sheets on the stretcher- pill bottles, some empty and some not so much. The labels all read as some outdated pain medication. What really caught your eye was the case left ajar on the crusted stretcher. You recognized the red rim and the outline of a pistol in the foam bottom. This was an empty gun box.

dread beginning to set in, you backed out of the room, sliding back through the half-open door and into the hall. You found yourself in a communal room. It was messy; blood splatters along the table and floor, and a giant broken screen by some dusty couches. “What the fuck happened here,” You wondered aloud.

In no rush, as the fear that gathered in your stomach threatened to paralyze you from the waist down, you headed back into the halls. Eventually, under the crack of a metal door, and through its shattered glass window, was a light blue glow that was jarring compared to the darkness of the rest of the scenery.

“Is this…” you had a feeling about the contents of this room based off that familiar glow. You pried your way inside, slipping yourself through the halfway opened slit you created. In front of you was the jarringly bright shine of 5 active cryopods. The ships power must have allocated to this single room…You were sure of it. You tapped swiftly on your wrist.

“Captain… there are people in here.”

[sevenrs]

my take on this crossover

au rambles below. please send asks if you have any <3

The Scrapper is a purposed organism of iterator Organizing to Oblivion (design pending). oblivion wants scrap metal for a secret project, but does not have any on themselves to spare. so they sent a purposed organism, the scrapper, to go "borrow" some from their neighbors

the neighbors (8 of them-- based on the existing moons in lethal company) are not so fond of being scrapped. so they devised their own organisms, as well as relying on the wildlife on their structure, to kill the slugcat when spotted

the scrapper has a helmet to protect against atmospheric differences. i know in original rain world this doesn't matter but... does slugcat just have really efficient lungs to be fine above the clouds for so long or is it game logic? likely game logic

regardless, oblivion would like to keep track of the scrapper's activates (like if it is dead), so they provided it a little drone

the drone allows the iterator and slugcat to communicate

[missingbat]

Some very strange AU with suffering, murder, depression, blood-- & A FLUFF, OF COURSE♡(>ᴗ•)♡(>ᴗ•)

And I came up with some random foolishness when I was poisoned and had a fever for three days. Please note that they may contradict each other because I am an inattentive person(ಡ‸ಡ)･ﾟ｡

Ichiji began to have the beginnings of emotions at the moment X, and since he is not a stupid boy, he realized that Judge was leading him by the nose, brainwashing and blah blah blah. Well, he didn't want to dance to someone else's tune, so he cosplays Sora — he swallowed the poison that she drank when she was pregnant, and that's the result. A crippled teenager runs from the assassins of Jerma, cursing the whole world and himself, as well as trying to find a cure so as not to end up like a mother.

In a fit of rage, he cut up his tattoo, and when he came to, he realized that he was now just a weak, pathetic person who was bleeding and who could die from such 'stuff'.

He was taken in once, and then he found out that the family that took him in had been killed by the assassins of the Judge.

Ichi, before meeting the Pirates of Spades, worked as a mercenary and informant who is constantly on the run and has no contact with anyone for a long time.

He says he doesn't have anyone and can't go back anywhere.

Because of the appearance of emotions, he is constantly under stress and endlessly replays in his head the crimes that he committed and could not influence, but still hates himself and blames himself.

Haphephobia is in a very advanced stage. Partly due to ignorance of the consequences after using poison, you never know what will happen to the surrounding people.

Out of habit, he holds back any emotions, and in principle behaves like an arrogant asshole.

The hump is literally loaded with various weapons. If you take it in your hands, you will get a loud metallic crackle of all that metal. But he walks noiselessly, lol.

Like the most normal and ordinary man, sleeps with a dagger in his arms. (Don't go near him, he'll throw a knife at you)

Severe cognitive imbalance when he looks at himself in the mirror. ��Ace, like Luffy's real brother, will blurt out that Ichiji looks like Little Red Riding Hood when they first meet. Ichi will say that he must have been hit hard on the head as a child." (WTF? How did you know?!?)

"I'm not a good person, Ace. You don't know anything about me."

Periodically there are attacks of coughing with blood, but he, of course, does not say anything to anyone, does not explain, but snaps and says not to go where you are not asked to go.

One day Deuce is going to get all worked up about how it's really not right and normal for Ichi, that he should be chained up in bed, not running around with a stupid capitan and covering his ass. Ichiji will tell that Deuce is doing the same thing." And Vinsmoke is right, BUT Deuce DOESN'T DO THAT WHEN HIS ORGANS ARE MELTING(＃`Д´)-- (Ichiji persuaded Deuce to keep quiet, and Deuce decided to keep a low profile on this "I can handle it myself".)

Deuce vaguely resembles Niji(if you get stoned in the end and get your eyesight -10, but still-), so Ichiji feels some kind of softness towards him. he or she trusts him more than the others.

I'm still trying to figure out how tumblr works, even though I don't understand English at all and use a translator to understand what's going on (￣ ￣|||)

[metal-organic-au]

Is Organic Metal smarter than Sonic, or does he have to "Share the Braincell" as some would put it?

Ask [99]

Summary Metal is a genius and Sonic is more adventurous (he still has a hard time learning the trick of solving a complete Rubik cube)

[artkotaro]

Question what if the organic metal sonics where sonics brothers?

[Ask (71)]

Eh...yes...these three are brothers...but they are not related to Sonic, As said Metal, they are not something natural...

[supd00dle]

Why is your Metal Sonic a Stand User?

Because he’s a Stardust Crusader.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Warming Heart | B.B

Coldness and hate, followed by nightmares — he never chooses to be like that but the people made him to be like that. People made him be the beast but maybe there will be one who can melt the grumpy man’s heart.

//Pairing// Beast!Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

//Wordcount// 4.727 Words

//Warnings// grumpy x sunshine, Bucky being hated, “beast”!Bucky, grumpy!Bucky, hurt/comfort kinda, nightmare, fluff

//Authors Note// I want to thank @holylulusworld for listening to all my ramblings about the idea and helping me with details. Also for proofreading, all mistakes are still mine (so don’t steal them from me!)

//Events// Hot Bucky Summer | Week 8 | "Maybe this'll help you relax.", Hot Bath, Another Drink, Cockwarming | @buckybarnesevents | Hurt-Comfort Bingo | Row One-Three | self doubt to "I'm so proud of you." | @sweetspicybingo | July Break Bingo | Row One-One | The beauty and the beast au | @julybreakbingo

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

Surrounded by darkness and hate — without a chance to make amends because no one even gives him just the smallest of a chance to let him try to be like them or at least explain himself. They hate him like no one else, like he is the worst thing you could be around and that’s the way they would act around him.

So the man decided years ago to hide in his small house in the middle of the forest, he doesn’t care what the people say about him, about his house. At least he doesn’t care anymore, if someone had asked him a few years back he would have tried to explain himself with tears in his eyes and a broken voice.

The man he was and the man he is now is a huge difference because he is different now. It wasn’t him who changed himself, it was the people who changed him into the “beast” he is now.

James Barnes doesn’t mind the coldness and darkness around him, he even appreciates it. He hates everyone who is close to his house and luckily there are rarely people who walk that deep into the forest, especially after they heard the stories about him, about the monster — the winter soldier.

The winter soldier is known as the most dangerous assassin with a metal arm. There are stories of why he lost his arm and now has a metal arm. From ‘he got hurt during a mission’ to ‘he ripped off his arm to make himself more dangerous’. But the truth? No one asks what the truth is, no one cares because they have their own stories, their imaginations about the man.

You’re new to the village, living in a small house at the edge of it. The people living there only look at you with suspicious eyes because you’re different. That’s what you think because you haven’t even introduced yourself to them but they don’t even talk to you.

Maybe it’s your style or the fact that you’re living in a way more modern way than they do. You’re working from home, with your laptop. You have meetings and organize everything for the company you’re working for. Maybe they think you plan to turn their small village into a hotel resort or whatever — but there is one thing you know: the people living in that village are judgeful and need a while to warm up with other people.

Today you decided to go for a walk, you always loved the forests and the one next to the village always smells so good like fir and spruce. So when it wasn’t too warm and most people were busy with their stuff, you sneaked out of the house and through the village into the forest.

The first step you take into it lets you forget about all the annoying and judging people you’re around all day. You inhale deeply, muscles relaxing immediately when the fresh breeze mixed with the smell of the trees hits your face.

You’re not sure why those people don’t like the forest, always mumbling about it, staring into it when it gets dark or when the rain comes — like there's a monster hidden that comes out by night or storms. You mostly laughed about their behavior, shaking your head and asking yourself who is the different one — you or the other village members.

With slow steps and your eyes everywhere at the same time in the forest you walk along the small path. You’re really not sure why none of the others go into the forest, it’s pretty, smells good, and is so quiet that you can only hear the birds and the moving leaves of the trees.

Bucky is out of his house, enjoying the loneliness the forest brings with it. He doesn’t miss the judging people, the intense stare, or the obvious whispers. He is happy when he is as happy as you can be with yourself in a forest. But the brown-haired man isn’t completely alone, he has a golden retriever named Stevie, who is his best friend and always with Bucky.

A low sound leaves the dog when the two of them hear a crack nearby. Bucky narrows his eyes, growling. He doesn’t like people, especially not near to his house. It’s his house, he has to keep it safe and no one is allowed to be close to it or else it wouldn’t be as safe as it used to be.

The man places his metal hand at the back of his dog's collar, holding him back as they slowly make their way through the forest to find out where the cracking comes from. And as they surround a tree not far away from their house a squirrel is running through the leaves on the ground and up a tree.

Bucky exhales deeply, he loves the animals in the forest, they are afraid of him but they don’t judge him, they don’t get into his house and they don’t talk to him. That kind of neighbor is his favorite.

A low growl echoes through the forest, the dark suddenly darker than before, and suddenly the rain is pouring down, wetting the big man completely in no time. With an annoyed huff, he leads Steve back to their shared house, he should have paid more attention to the dark clouds in the sky but he was too deep in his thoughts, in his own doing, and then too busy with the squirrel to notice before it started to rain.

He lets Steve off his hand and turns on the fire in the fireplace to let his dog dry in front of it while Bucky himself takes a shower and changes into dry and more comfortable clothes. Bucky likes rain, at least when it doesn’t pour down on him, but when the drops roll down his windows, the steady sound of them falling against the window and the quiet crackling sound of the fire is the only sound that echoes through his house.

The rain surprises you just as much as it surprised Bucky, but instead of him, your house is around half an hour's walk away from you. Your clothes are soaked and you start to freeze with every following blow of the wind through the forest. Arms already wrapped around yourself you walk further into the forest, hoping for a small hut or something. Little do you know that you’re going to find a house just a few more minutes walk away from you.

Thunder and lightning join the rain when you see a small house in the distance. You smile to yourself as you notice it, it looks dark but at least it could help you to warm up a bit maybe.

The front door is locked, so you look around, maybe there is a window you can climb through to get into the house? Or you have to throw something into it to get in there, whatever option you choose it has to be fast because you aren’t feeling your fingers or toes anymore. After walking a bit more around the house you find a door that looks similar to the front door just at the back which leads into a small garden. The garden is surprisingly clean for a house that looks so empty but you’re too deep in your thoughts to notice that.

You stomp through the dust, your shoes and legs completely one with the dirt, and a few leaves stuck to your shoes as well. When you try to open the door that leads into the house you’re successful. You easily slip into the floor of the house, closing the door behind you and sighing deeply.

As you trim around your eyes wander through a kitchen, someone is living in that house, it’s all cleaned and you wonder who could live there. Maybe a nice or mean witch? You have seen a lot of movies with them, sometimes they are nice so you hope that whichever witch's house that is, is one of the nice ones.

Since the house is perfectly clean and someone obviously lives here, you don’t want to disturb them further with all the dirt under your shoes, so you take them off and leave them at the door when you walk through the kitchen.

“H-hello, someone at home? I-uhm- I was out for a walk and it started raining, I’m sorry for just coming in but it is freezing outside,” you say, ignoring the fact that you could talk to yourself in case there is no one at home right now.

It’s still cold, your wet clothes cling to your skin and you shiver lightly. There is no noise except the noise of the wetness falling from your clothes and the steady sound of rain against the windows. It’s almost completely dark but you can still see everything around you.

For a moment you feel like someone is staring at you, like there are a pair of blue eyes in the darkness but as you blink it’s suddenly away and you shake your head. A soft warm yellow is visible underneath a door that leads from the floor into another room, maybe someone is there? Or at least something you can warm yourself up with?

Slowly with almost quiet steps, you walk through the dark floor, there is still that feeling of someone behind you, a pair of eyes that watches you carefully but whenever you turn around there is no one. You’re brave but it still scares you a bit, no one would go into another person's house but it’s an exception, isn’t it?

As you open the door where the light is visible you smile softly, there is a fireplace with a couch in front of it and you immediately move into it, closing the door — not completely because it’s too heavy. Whoever lives here has to be strong and big because everything looks just so big.

A low growl comes from behind the door once you sit on the floor in front of the fireplace, warming your hands. Your head shoots to the side, the door is now completely open again, and in the doorframe is a broad man, almost as thick as the doorframe itself.

“What are you doing here, girl?” He asks, staring at you. His eyes are ocean blue and he frowns, his teeth gritted and jaw clenched. Your eyes wander lower to his broad chest and widen slightly the moment you notice the glistening metal arm he has. But he is still handsome.

“I-uhm it rains really bad outside and uhm— the thunderstorm probably gets worse so I thought I—“ he interrupts you with a snarl. Shaking his head, he growls once again.

“And you think you could come into MY house,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. The wind blows through the floor and he notices the way your body starts trembling because of the cold. He takes a step inside the room, ready to close the door as a dog runs into the room and directly toward you.

Before you get the chance to answer him the golden retriever jumps on top of you, causing you to fall backwardand land on the floor. The dog immediately licks all over your face, causing you to giggle in the softest way Bucky has ever heard.

He doesn’t know why but the sound of your giggles warm his inside a bit, his heart flutters and there is almost a soft smile across his lips but he gets his facade back before the smile breaks through it, closing the door. He then faces you once more, snapping at his dog who whines before moving away and taking a seat next to you.

Bucky still doesn’t trust you and you have to be out of his house as far as possible. His eyes roam over you, through the room, and to the window. The forest is covered in a deep dark, he can’t even see the trees that are close to the house and he knows he can’t send you out like that, especially not with the thunderstorm and even less with your still dripping clothes.

“Stay there,” he says, his voice rough and dark. Bucky stomps through the living room, looking through a drawer to fish out a towel with a pair of pants and a thick hoodie of his. With that he walks closer to you again, placing them on the couch behind you before taking a step backward. “Second door, right side. Take a shower, can’t make you ill because of your wet clothes.”

You nod, smiling softly at him. Even though he looks at you with narrowed eyes and a grumpy expression you smile at him all the time, trying to lighten up his mood with yours.

“Thank you, I’m y/n!” You say, getting off the floor and grabbing the clothes with the towel to take a warm shower. The golden retriever gets up with you as well, his tail swinging from one side to the other as he follows you through the door.

“Bucky.” The man grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, his eyes always following you. “Stevie, sit! And no sneaking around!”

You nod, giggling about his still harsh tone, and then you make your way to the bathroom to take a warm shower. Before you’re ready to change into his comfortable clothes.

Meanwhile, Bucky growls a bit more under his breath. His thick, long fingers scratch over Steve’s head and his ears, causing the dog to snuggle into Bucky. The big man smirks softly, just a tiny bit when he sees his dog so happy and comfortable.

“Do ya like her, you do, don’t you?” He asks his dog, not wanting an answer, Bucky just likes talking to his dog. He is his friend, his own company so he is used to talking to him about everything. “You’re also just a boy, getting weak when it comes to women.”

Steve snuggles more against Bucky, his long tongue gliding over the man’s hand until he has to wipe it on his pants to dry it. “Yeah, good boy. You need to protect us, don’t be weak when a woman walks into our home, Stevie.”

After returning to the living room Bucky offered you warm tea, he doesn’t want you to get sick because of the cold. It would be his fault — and as much as he hates people he doesn’t want you to feel bad. So he makes tea for the two of you, looking for some snacks he can offer as well and some for Steve.

Bucky feels slightly betrayed by his best friend as he walks back into the living room. Steve is cuddled up into you, his head resting on your lap while you sit wrapped into a warm blanket on the couch. Your fingers slide through the golden retriever's fur, causing him to relax.

“Looks like he likes you… he usually doesn’t like other people,” Bucky's deep voice comes from behind you. You shiver lightly the moment the rough sound of his voice echoes through the room.

“He’s like you, isn’t he?” You ask with the softest smile tugging at your lips. Your cheeks are slightly pink when you turn to face Bucky, who places the snacks next to you on the couch and hands you a cup of tea.

Bucky takes a seat next to you, growling and you notice that he likes to growl about everything. He then nods, sipping at his cup and staring into the fire in the fireplace.

The silence makes you nervous and there are a few — a lot of — questions you want to get off your chest. You clear your throat, getting his attention but he still doesn’t look at you. You actually have his attention the whole time, Bucky is looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Why are you living here in the forest so far away from the village?” You ask, turning your head while playing with your hands in your lap. You twirl Steve’s fur around your digits before letting them go. Bucky doesn’t answer, only turning his hands into fists, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly.

The knuckles of his flesh hand turn already white and you shift in your seat. “I- uhm, sorry. I understand that the people there can be really— they are you know, need a long time to get used to other people,” you mumble, being grateful when Steve gets off your lap and walks through the room, picking a toy of his up to bring it to you.

You giggle sweetly, grasping one side while the dog holds the other side between his teeth. He pulls on it, trying to get it out of your hand but your grip is too strong so you hold it tightly. Soft chuckles and giggles leave your lips now and then, you praise the dog for being such an adorable dog, that he is a good boy.

Even Bucky has to try his best to not let a soft chuckle slip past his lips. The corners of his mouth twitch but he manages to not smile completely, just a tiny bit, hoping you don’t notice.

The moment he smirks, Steve turns and stands in front of the taller man, casting your eyes on Bucky and you see the smile tugging at his lips. It makes your heart flutter, Bucky’s blue eyes light up, and his nose scrunches.

Bucky doesn’t talk much to you all evening, only to ask you if you want more tea or some snacks. He tells you to sleep on the couch, offering you some more blankets and a pillow, bringing it to you. Steve stays with you in the living room which makes Bucky grumble as he walks into his bedroom.

He hasn’t slept without his dog in a long time, actually never since he adopted Steve. But now his best friend prefers the girl that stays at their house. With a grumpy expression, Bucky gets into his bed, curls himself tight into his blanket, and grasps a pillow to hold on to something in his sleep while Steve has his place for the night next to you on the couch.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, you’re warmed by the dog and the massive blankets. And you couldn’t feel saver, of course, Bucky hasn’t talked much about himself and was grumpy most of the time but you have seen his soft smile when you giggled.

Your sleep is interrupted by a scream, followed by another loud noise that echoes through the house. You immediately sit on the couch, looking at the dog who is still cuddled up next to you, only his head is up to look at you with his big eyes.

Another sound comes from the floor or somewhere in the house, it sounds like someone slams against a wall or the floor. You shiver, it’s only Bucky who is next to you and Steve in the house and Steve is next to you, so it can only be Bucky or a monster?

You notice a groan that sounds pretty much like Bucky but it sounds slightly different to the growls he answers you with all day. This one right now sounds like he is hurt, but why could he be hurt? Maybe he fell out of the bed?

“Get up, Stevie, let’s find out what’s going on in your dad's room, yeah?” You ask, and even though you’re not sure if the golden retriever understands you, he gets up, waiting in front of the couch for you to get up as well.

With the blanket wrapped around you and Steve walking next to you slowly, and quietly through the room, to the floor until you reach Bucky’s bedroom. Behind the closed door, you can hear muffled screams, heavy moans which could also be groans, and now and then a punch against either the bed or the wall.

You open the door, finding Bucky still in his bed but his blanket is wrapped around his legs and arms. The brown-haired man looks like he is trying to fight against the fabric like it’s someone who holds him, and whatever he tries he can’t get out of their grip.

With another step into the room and Steve whimpering next to you, you notice the sweat running down Bucky’s face. The sheets underneath him almost wrapped around him instead of the mattress. Bucky’s metal arm is glistening in the light shine of the moon when he lifts it and throws it against the wall behind his bed.

“Bucky? Hey, Bucky, wake up, you’re oke?” You ask, doubting that he is going to wake up when you talk to him. He growls once again, punching around him before he moans painfully and stays still for a brief moment. “Bucky?”

When he lies there, moving less than before you sit down next to him, hoping you won’t scare him. You place your hand on his flesh arm, stroking your thumb over his sweaty skin. He immediately relaxes a bit, still trying to get out of the grip of the blanket but less than before.

“Bucky, it’s oke. You’re having a nightmare, no one’s gonna hurt you. Stevie’s here too,” you say, patting the place next to you on the bed and the dog jumps onto it, leaning over Bucky to lick across his face, waking the big man up as soon as Steve’s wet tongue touches Bucky’s skin.

“Stevie,” Bucky breathes out heavily, his eyes shooting open as he notices the touch on his arm. Wide, blue eyes staring at you, there is nothing left of the cold gaze he had when you walked into his house earlier. His eyes only show terror, his whole expression shows you that, even though he isn’t dreaming anymore. “F—“

“It’s oke, s-sorry, I didn’t want to scare you,” you mumble and this time his eyes widen in surprise. You’re scared that you scared him? He is the one who is punching around himself, who is like a wild beast haunted by his nightmares. But you, you don’t want to scare him?

“I-uhm you scare me? I’m the one who scares everyone,” the man mumbles, sitting up and resting against the headboard of his bed with his back. “Why aren’t you scared?”

You giggle, earning a soft smile from Bucky as well. You’re really adorable, giggling all day like nothing could ever hurt you and you’re the first one in ages who isn’t afraid of him, who doesn’t mind his presence and even helps him.

“Why should I? Because you’re a grumpy man, ohhh, you’re way nicer even as the grump you are than the people in the village,” you smirk, turning a bit to face him better, your fingers sliding up and down his arm. You then let them glide to his legs, helping him to free his legs from the blanket. “The blanket isn’t your enemy, it’s your friend, you know?”

He chuckles, nodding his head. Bucky runs his fingers over his face, through his hair before he sighs deeply. “I know, but the stories they tell about me, exist because parts of them are true but no one knows the story behind it, and while I dream my blanket turns into my worst enemy when it’s wrapped tightly around me. When Steve is here it’s better, but this boy prefers girls when he gets to see one.”

“Stories? I never heard about a Bucky in a story, are you famous?”

“Not in a good way, but kind of. Have you ever heard about the winter soldier?” Bucky asks, shivering when the name slips past his lips. You nod, you have heard of him, once but you thought it was just a scary story to stop the kids from running into the forest. “It was— the winter soldier, it was me. That’s why they hate me in the village, why they are scared of me.”

Your mouth drops open as you nod. The metal arm, the soldier was described with one. But Bucky is everything but scary, maybe a bit grumpy — which doesn’t surprise you when one is living all by himself.

“Do you want me to go back into the living room? I mean I can also stay here if you want. But Steve will be there now so,” you ask, drawing circles on Bucky’s thighs. He follows your fingers, his expression softens and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You’re really not scared of him, not even now when you know about him as the winter soldier.

“I- uhm would you- I mean, I would love it if you would stay here, I- I can change the sheets because they are sweaty,” he mumbles.

“How about you give me the sheets and I will change them while you take a shower,” you suggest, Bucky nods.

The two — three — of you are cuddled up in the bed around forty minutes later. Bucky has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, caressing the skin while your head is placed on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“I understand that you don’t want to be in the village if you can be here — it’s quieter, more natural, and beautiful — but you know, you’re not him anymore. You’re Bucky and not the person they think you are,” you mumble into his chest.

He sighs, nodding. He knows that but you’re the only person next to him who thinks like that. At least he thinks that sometimes about himself, as long as no one is looking at him with a judging gaze.

“I try to believe it,” he says, sliding his fingers further to your hair, twirling them around his fingers. He had told you about him as the Winter Soldier and the things he did when they brainwashed and forced him to work for them. “But it helps that Steve loves me and that you stumbled into my house.”

You giggle, pulling the blanket over the two of you, and nuzzle more into Bucky. Steve is cuddled up between your and Bucky’s legs, already snoring quietly.

“I’m also glad I stumbled into your house, grumpy boy,” you smirk, looking up at him. His eyes light up and he smiles, and he looks adorable when he smiles, especially the slight scrunch of his nose.

“I guess I want to keep you here forever, and Stevie would help me, I’m sure,” Bucky chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“I wouldn’t mind staying here with you. I’m so proud of you, you have built your own house with everything, and you’re so much stronger than you think. I would love to spend the rest of my life with you to make sure you know you can be and will be loved — by me.”

No one has told him that they are proud of him or love him in ages, but when you say it — it sounds just perfect. The two of you know that those words have a deep meaning and that it’s more like a promise than a joke. Who knew the ice around the man’s heart could melt with the help of you when you stumble not just into his house but also into his small world and light up the darkness? You’re his everything and he will make sure you have everything you need with him, who needs judging people in the village when you have one another — plus Bucky has now two loves who take care that his blanket doesn’t wrap around him and keep him in bed — because that’s your task from now on, or Bucky’s so he has an excuse for whatever he planned to do the day that includes work.

With you, he found everything he was ever asking for, someone who loves him for the person he is, someone who isn’t afraid of him. But he never thought you would like his metal arm and help him love himself as the one he is.

//Taglist// @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @im-alestan @lives-in-midgard

[pretzlforpresident]

Finally I’ve gathered my thoughts enough to write a synopsis!

AKA explaining the context of Amnesia in Alloy, enjoy :>

Metal Sonic doesn’t quite remember why he wants to be the one true Sonic. He’s been destroyed and rebuilt so many times that those memories have escaped him years ago. For a long time it never really bothered him; it was part of his programming after all. But one day during a battle, Sonic asks for an explanation. Unable to answer, Metal short circuits. Waking up still in his cold metal body and alone at headquarters, Metal feels like something is wrong. Not with his programming, but something else. Someone else. Someone they used to be.

Tania Parlouzer went missing 7 years ago, and ever since Sonic has been searching for her. The only thing left behind from her disappearance were her favorite pair of earrings, and ever since Sonic has held onto them in hopes that one day he can return them to his little sister. As the years go by and he makes new friends(and enemies), being a hero became the main priority for him. He never did stop passively looking for her though, even as her face has largely faded from his own memory. 

Little does Sonic know that she’s been hiding in plain sight, still looking up to him just like she always has. 

Additional information:

Tania is not a sonic oc. She’s Sonic’s younger sister from the 1992 Sonic manga. I definitely recommend checking it out if you’re interested! Here’s a link to a post where I have a few sources listed where you can go read it!

Also a huge thanks to @catiecat1320 for writing a fic about this au. I’m incredibly obsessed with it(and I figured that if this is going to be my masterpost for the au collision I might as well have it linked if anyone wants to check it out)!