#fucking love the depictions of him where he’s more of a creature
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almost forgot to post these
#im so intrigued by him lately#fucking love the depictions of him where he’s more of a creature#the mandela catalogue#archangel gabriel#gabriel mandela catalogue#idk the tags !!!#my art#art
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Tw: captivity, obsessive behavior, made up fantasy lore, mind fuck (?)
He never calls for you - he only ever sends his servants, poor, confused little creatures of the night once lost just like you. They gather at your door like an army of darkness, scratching and biting at the delicate wooden frame, howling piteously with full chest until you're faced with the choice of either opening the door, or suffocating yourself with the fluffy white pillow. You give in after what feels like an appropriate time - not too soon as to feed his ever - growing ego, yet not so late that the creatures' heads start to roll under your nose.
You slowly walk down the endless corridor, refusing to look at anything for longer than a second - even as it calls to you with the sweetest voice of desire. Everything is enchanted to the very last candle on the wall. The countless paintings depict wealth and opulence beyond your wildest dreams, an adundance of riches upon riches, of honeycomb amber and pure green emeralds. The silk carpet is as soft as a dandelion just before it bursts open, and the crystal chandelier embarks such a soft light the human eye can never properly adjust to the tender shades of yellow and blue. The castle is tempting you with every passing breath - begging you to stay here forever. Begging you to love it, and everyone inside - especially His Majesty, the Lord.
You try to calm your disheveled thoughts as you carefully open the heavy gates to the throne room. Your breath hitches deep into your throat as your eyes gaze upon the feast spread out before you, and suddenly you're starving like a wolf. By now you should know better than to let yourself be lured in by magic - but the pull is too magnetic and you quickly find yourself stepping closer to the piled up table. You take in the smell with unsatiated hunger - golden apples baked inside fine sugar crystals, tender deer fillet dripping with berry sauce and smokey mushrooms, the sort you can only find inside an enchanted forrest. Cream puffs and mountains of stripped ice soaked in jam and vanilla essence upon stacks of fruit and more goblets of red wine than you can count. And yet he remains ever the centerpiece of the vision.
"You're late, mona grece tide*." His voice slowly fills the room with its overbearing softness, always on the verge of dropping into silence. It's painful to look at him - as if everything about the mythical man was created a touch too symmetrical, to the point where the sharp features all blend together. His lips are too full, his eyes - if the golden slits beneath his brows may be called that, are way too bright under the sun, and they reflect a time you don't wish to remember. And his hair is so long and pale, so very white and smooth, you have to stop your hands from reaching into the wounded transparency of his wild locks, less you want to lose a finger or two.
"Tidea." Khaal snaps his finger more aggressively when you don't respond to his call the first time. You squint in an attempt to block the light coming from the tiny cracks in his face - the birth lines of his dragon. "Sit down. Don't make me come to you."
Tide. Tidea. Love, as you eventually learnt the meaning of the word in Lohemian. My little love, the words still rest on his tongue, because what are you if not a small, fragile human?
"I'd hate to inconvenience you so, my Lord." You eventually bite back, breaking out of the trance. Slipping in and out of consciousness and constantly guessing your surroundings is taking a toll on you, but you'll lose your sanity before you give into his madness. "Touching a filthy human like myself will surely sully your pretty golden flakes." You smile with venom, tearing into the nearest sun-pear. He watches the juice drip down your chin with angry narrowed eyes, and with another swift snap of his fingers he's standing before you, towering above.
"Insolent child, you are." He grips your face carelessly, inspecting it from all sides before finally materializing a clean cloth and wiping you clean. "You're foolish just like any other human." His brows twist together with anger, but his expression remains angelic to the untrained eye. "I can give you everything you've ever wanted. The sun at your feet, the moon on your shoulders. All the knowledge of the world." His fingers suddenly stop rubbing along your jawline and his gaze falls upon your cold, quivering lips. "All I ask in return is your loyalty." His sharp nail begins stroking your lower lip. It doesn't draw blood, but you wish it would. You can't stand the anticipation - the moment before the violence entails.
"Don't let your eyes wander. Gift me your warmth." The dragon king pulls you closer to his chest, and all fight leaves you. His form is perfectly defined with thousand metal - like flakes, one on top of the other like a flawless shield. It's probably a great weapon on the battlefield - but it lacks the naked vulnerability of human skin, and it's so cold it hurts to stand close, much less touch it directly. "Look at me!" He suddenly roars, and you fall back from the sheer power of his voice.
Everything hurts - as if the floor is suddenly melting, you feel like you will never stop falling down.
"I can't. It's too painful." You whisper weakly between hoarse broken sobs threatening to tear off your heart in two. "I wasn't made for this world, f-for your... world." You bite your lips, averting eyes to the ground. "Everything in you wants me dead. Your love will kill me." You whimper, squeezing your left hand to your chest. The dead weight of the broken bone is pulling you down, luring you deeper into sleep.
"I'd like to see you try, mon'tidea." He sinks down to your level, quick as a shadow. Stealing a kiss as light as a sparrow, he pushes you down. "Die as many times as you want. You'll always end up here in my arms." His lips are grazing your ear, warm breath hitting your neck. Another illusion, you realize - his body can't create warmth. It's simply reflecting your warmth back to you. "Because once you enter my realm, there's no coming back."
#yandere#yancore#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere dragon#yandere oneshot#yandere x you#yandere male x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader
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not to be crazy but reader being crazy obsessed over dragon!price. maybe reader's a hybrid, or maybe he's just a human; but it doesn't matter, not when all he cares about is john, john, john, john. a reader who's so obsessed price, no matter what he does or say, cannot seem to get rid of you. in the peripherals of his vision he is haunted by you, whether you are actually there or not, you have infested his mind just as much as he's infested yours.
a reader who's so obsessed he'll go up against creatures much stronger and older than he is, against creatures with teeth and claws and magic that hums in their veins - but that magic and claws and teeth are all usually against a man who's sole purpose is to live for another man, for a man who you're so deeply and dearly enamored with. their size and strength and whatever mystical, non-human features are all useless against you, whose veins scream for violence and blood, who scream at you to get rid of anyone that so much as breathes your john's way.
and price isn't sure whether to be impressed or disturbed by the amount of heads that arrive packaged onto his desk, the dismembered limbs he throws out with distaste on his tongue. it boggles his mind whenever he finds out you've gotten rid of yet another hybrid, how someone like you - either a human man or a weaker hybrid of sorts - have managed to become the personification of death itself.
he's more exasperated when he somehow finds out you've been stalking him, finds the collection of polaroids of him stored away somewhere, finds a shrine just for him, than he is frightened. he's never had anyone be so obsessed with him the way you are in all his years of living, and despite himself, with every corpse or limb found, with every sickly love letter finding itself on his desk, with stolen clothes finding itself in your bedroom or laundry, with the little bloodied gifts you leave him, it has his draconic instincts purring at a potential mate.
Cw: 18+, dragon!Price, dragon! male reader obsessiveness, stalking, scent kink, masturbation, voyarism, exhibitionism, briefly Nikolai x Price, brief mention & depiction of dismemberment, yandere!reader, yandere!Price
It all started with a small act of kindness. You were getting scolded by a superior for something you’d done- had almost gotten kicked out of your squad because of that, when suddenly Price had swooped in and uttered a little white lie “he didn’t mean it, I’ll keep him in check don’t worry about it general” and got you out of trouble in a matter of seconds
Truth be told Price forgot all about you after that encounter but you couldn’t forget about him. You spent every waking moment learning about him who he was - a dragon hybrid and a captain- what he’d done- fought in wars and served everything from kings to generals - learned all about who he keeps in his inner circle - it had once been his mate now it’s mostly his squad and oh his mate -she was absolutely beautiful- a dragon hybrid just like him. They’d been together for years until she’d gotten killed.
That’s at least what you had read in one of the many journal he keeps in his room. You had snuck in one day when he left for a mission with the intentions to just look around but you had ended up with your clothes on the floor and fucking one of his pillows just because it smelled like him, - soap and cologne still embedded into the pristine white fabric, and still carrying the imprint from where his head once had been. So of course you folded the pillow right in the middle and slid your cock inside of it, losing yourself in its tight and warm grip, pretending it was the stand offish dragon captain you were fucking before spilling ropes of cum all over the sheets.
Then it came to the over protectiveness. You really wouldn’t call it that. You just wanted to make sure he was alright. So what if you watched him through the cracks of his office door while he held conversations with Nikolai? And what if you stayed as his lips crashed onto the Russians, while your hand slipped down your pants and what if you snuck into Price’s room the morning after and buried your face in his underwear just so you know that Nikolai didn’t take it any further?
But Price knew- could feel your eyes on him as he lined Nikolai’s cockhead up with his entrance. Price knew -could hear your growl and the way your hand stroked your cock as he bounced on Nikolai’s cock. Price knew- and he enjoyed it, tipped over the edge at the sheer thought of it, vision turning blurry and ears ringing as he slumped into the other man’s embrace.
So it wasn’t to any surprise when he discovered the Polaroids you kept of him, stashed under your mattress but poking out enough for him to get a glimpse. He had come to your room to talk about your recent behavior. Things had started to get out of hand. He didn’t really care that you watched his every step. What he did care about were the soldiers that had mysteriously gone missing, soldiers he’d gotten into minor arguments with prior to the incident, but eventually popped back up in his office or rather his desk- body completely dismembered and limbs neatly wrapped, reminding him of a Christmas Day in hell and Price was sure he knew who was behind it
There were plenty of Polaroids, so much so they made up an entire album.
Some were rather innocent in nature, snapshots of him while he was smoking a cigar or talking with Kate or any member of 141 . The photographs were blurry - unfocused almost as if you’d accidentally taken them but he knew that wasn’t the case. Some were a bit more suggestive: a close up shot of his ass while he was maneuvering the shooting range or a shot of his scantily clad lower half as he held a training session with the team. He could only imagine what you did with those,
But there were more polaroids, snapshots of him while he’s clearly asleep, blissfully unaware of what’s happening. Going by the murky surroundings, the pictures must’ve been taken whenever the two of you were out on a mission together and shared a tent.
Some were close up shots of his face, cheeks dusted in pink and hair in disarray, completely unaware of what’s happening. Other Polaroids were blurry shots of his body, silver of skin peaking through the clothes he’s wearing, probably a direct cause from all the tossing and turning he’d done in his sleep. Despite the nature of them, they were rather innocent, reminding you of causal snapshots someone would take of their lover.
But something about that had heat creeping up his cheek, blood pooling straight to his dick.
He could imagine you sprawled out on your bed, or seated in his office chair, one hand holding a Polaroid; probably a snapshot of him smoking a cigar, while the other hand was stroking your cock.
Disgusting he thinks as his hand shakily unbuckles his jeans, doesn’t even bother to take a seat.
How could he allow anyone as sick as you into his team? He thinks, hand grasping his dick, that’s already hard and weeping.
He should report you for misconduct and get you kicked out of the army, he thinks, thumb swiping over his tip, smearing around the pre that had been collecting there as grunts and groans escapes his lips
All thoughts escape his head as he sets a steady pace with his hand, stroking root to tip while his free hand fondles his ball sack.
“Fuck!” He grunts out, eyes fluttering shut, head tipping back as he fucks into his own hand.
“John?”
#alec answers#this is a queue how are you#call of duty#john price x reader#john price x male reader#john price#captain john price#captain john price x male reader#dom male reader#sub male character#bottom male character#top male reader#dom reader#top reader#x male reader#x reader#captain john price x reader#yandere reader#yandere#yandere x male reader#yandere smut
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All the newly shown Eggman concept sketches in SXSG are so cool, especially for how they're for Shadow 2005 💜
This goes so fucking hard my edgy black heart lives for it lol
Wish I knew what all of this said but I love this silly guy 💕
It appeared that his left brow ridge had accidentally been erased as there was some residue, so I copied and pasted the right one to restore it
I always love to see my boys togetherrr
Eggman: I COMMAND you, Shadow!
Shadow: :\
This one is neat for the concepts of inside his base in the game
Especially for this one for Eggman sitting in it in the chair that looks way too small for him in game while Shadow warps in!
I can't say for sure without the translation of what he's saying (really wish I had those for all of these) but it seems he was originally supposed to be sat there while Shadow entered, unlike the final game:
Eggman is already outside in his Egg Mobile, as we also see depicted in this concept, on the same page
It might be hard to tell because it's so small and pretty blurry (because the collection room doesn't even let you zoom in on Shadow Gens damn it) but that is Eggman in his Egg Mobile from the side outside the window lol
Just like this shot in the final game, from the same cutscene where he warps in:
So it seems this was indeed how this cutscene was originally supposed to go. Was Eggman originally going to be sat there while Shadow entered and then he tried to hop in the Egg Mobile and get away, perhaps? XD
Again, hard to tell when I don't know what the dialogue says but this is so awesome! New glimpses into Eggman in Shadow 2005, one of my favorite games and Eggman portrayals ever in 2024 is so cool :'D
And this one is REALLY interesting for how out of left field it is. It's drawn quite like a cover concept
The left side is definitely supposed to be Gerald. Note the lack of goggles and how his stache is shaped like Gerald's Shadow 2005 model that swoops downward more than Eggman's. Also lol he has white sclera just like Eggman does, checkmate :P But he appears to be somehow modified with metal with the scratches, bolts, and seams- or it's some kind of metal version of him perhaps?
Because Metal Sonic is there too, beheaded with Shadow looking badass holding it. Which is something else that's super intriguing, since Metal of course isn't in Shadow 2005 at all!
And also what's supposedly part of the same concept batch, titled "Shadow the Hedgehog stage concept", there's some metallic equivalent of the Biolizard, with Shadow's version of the fight and Finalhazard recreated
Wtf was going on in the early drafts for this game? Some type of possibly metallic Gerald, Metal Sonic, some metallic/robotic Biolizard inspired creation but it's a different creature? I'm so fucking intrigued!
I've always figured that Eggman and the androids were originally going to have a bigger role in Shadow 2005's story with how they set them up in Heroes and this heavily supports that in a completely new and different way like holy shit
Or there's the possibly that this was for a completely different game they considered before but it is listed just as "Shadow the Hedgehog concept" unlike how other concepts in the collection room art gallery have different game titles listed
Either way I'm gonna be thinking about this forever
#dr. eggman#eggman#dr eggman#dr robotnik#sonic the hedgehog#my post#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog 2005#shadow the hedgehog game#sonic x shadow generations#sonic generations#professor gerald robotnik#gerald robotnik#biolizard#metal sonic
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Some HSR Thirsts
Because I've been fucking star-railed this last week and also I promised @dustofthedailylife that I would write a svarog thirst if she finally pulled welt. so since this exists, you can guess what happened!
Svarog/Yaoshi/Kafka x Reader
NSFW, nothing explicit perse but all very heavily implied, Robot/monsterfucking, does fucking a god cound as monsterfucking?, Svarog is a giant vibrator, Yaoshi and their many hands, also Yaoshi having an aphrodesiac venom in their scorpion tail, maybe a little implied dubcon in kafkas case? I dont...think it is but its there as a warning in case.
Ok but Svarog, who definitely knows what sex is, of course he does, he has an entire database to access, and lets face it, this man has probably already accessed it when looking up ‘how to parent’ information because at one point or another he’s going to have to give clara ‘the talk’
(no, we wont talk about how his version of the talk is going to be the most embarrassingly clinical talk ever to exist. rest in peace clara.)
But he does not, for the love of anything, understand why you want to have sex…with him.
Nonetheless, he does not stop your hands roaming his chest plates, he doesn’t really stop you from doing… anything really, because… whatever this is makes you happy, and that’s all he wants.
He’s confused when you ask him to touch you, but he does it anyway, all while sifting through his databanks to figure out both why and where.
This is also the day you discover that Svarog has an… interesting vibration function in his hands that he claims was once for easing stiff muscles of his old human commanders before he was abandoned.
Yeah it’ll sure ease you alright.
Admittedly…he does like watching you squirm…it does… something to his servos.
Though, he thinks he may have created a monster, because now every day, without fail…you’re asking him for a hand.
Perhaps one day, when he has done enough research…he might just reveal that one…extra modification that had been made to him before everything went to shit.
One day he will allow you to delve below his trousers and maybe one day he will use that…modification, to finally give you what you want, since it seems you’re unwilling to find another mortal to fornicate with.
Besides
perhaps …clara could do with a mother figure around.
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Some say the Aeon Yaoshi, of the Abundance, is a cruel and evil creature.
This does not stop you from seeking Their favour.
However when they finally do appear before you, you get so much more.
Six hands, long and delicate, trailing your skin as they pull you close, unearthly voice whispering in your ear, telling you they’ve heard every prayer, every plead and call for them; how they’ve been watching you all this time, and now they have come to bestow the blessing you’ve been seeking.
But only if you can endure one last trial.
In some depictions you had found, Yaoshi is endowed with a scorpion's tail, so it isn’t a shock when the appendage curls around your body, the tip pricking into your thigh. You feel the warmth of the poison spread through your body and you moan for it. Yaoshi only hums their praise
Their venom makes you feel warm and fuzzy, it makes their touch intense and vivid, most of all…
it makes you want to give yourself over entirely
You feel hands touch places that have never been touched by another, you feel their teeth and their tongue. You hear their praises.
And then you wake, in your bed.
At first, you think it was a dream, but then you sit up.
You were naked, your muscles ached, but it was a sweet ache, soft around the edges, and there on your thigh, where they had stung you with their venom…
the symbol of abundance
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Soft hands, and an even softer voice, leave you weak in the knees.
“Ready to talk yet?” Kafka muses quietly as she presses a single finger to your collarbone, and you immediately fall back against the table, your arms still bound behind your back.
You should be struggling. You should be fighting back.
But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t incredibly turned on by the stellaron hunter who had kidnapped you, and was now apparently intent on interrogating you.
“You’ll….have to try harder than that.” you rasp, trying to sound intimidating.
By the way Kafka’s smile widens ever so slightly, it’s failed completely, and you’re once again left reeling as she approaches, leaning over you like a cat who’s just caught their mouse.
“Will I?” her voice is so soft, and yet so very dangerous as her ruby eyes narrow in on your face “My…are we a little smitten? Your face is all red.”
Goddamn it.
“I’d never-”
“Oh don’t be so dramatic.” She interjects as she perches on the edge of the table beside where you lay, she shoots you a look…an expression you can’t quite discern for a moment, until you realise her own eyes are raking down your body.
hungrily.
You watch her bring her hand to her mouth, teeth closing around the finger of her glove before pulling the offending article off; your heart is jackrabbiting in your chest.
“I think…” she hums as she leans back over you, magenta hair falling between you both like a waterfall. This was dangerous, so very dangerous.
But the moment her hand presses against your belly, and slowly begins its slow gaze downward, pressing shamelessly beneath the waistband of your bottoms? You’re a goner.
“I think I have other ways to make you sing that we’ll both enjoy…don't you think?”
Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~
I will be starting a Starrail specific taglist shortly so if you want in on that let me know!
#silentmothwrites#Moth got star railed#Svarog Star rail#Yaoshi Star rail#Kafka Star rail#Svarog x reader#Yaoshi x reader#Kafka x reader#Svarog smut#yaoshi smut#kafka smut
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hii!! this is my first fic i’m posting here so excuse the not-put-togetherness of this post lol, i just really wanting to share this!! also i would love any and all feedback please!! :)
pairings/characters: (established) sam winchester x you, dean is also there
summary: you get shot while on a hunt and the brothers work to patch you up on the scene
warnings: blood/blood loss, gunshot wound, graphic depiction of retrieving bullet from stomach
word count: idk, i typed this out in a tumblr draft, i’ll do better next time haha
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God, if it weren’t for that damn gun…
This was a vamp nest they were hunting and Sam still had brought his gun. Yes - of course it’s good to have extra protection, but if he knew that a vamp would used it against you he would have never brought it.
And now there you were, sprawled out on the icey basement floor, slipping in your own blood. Sam lunged for the vamp as soon as he noticed the creature had his gun, but the monsters trigger-finger was more determined and his heart sunk as he heard the gunshot ring out.
Sam didn’t dare to look over at you until the vamps head was clean off it’s body. The slice of Sam’s machete sprayed a spit of blood across his cheek and he huffed for a second before his memory caught up with him and he snapped his head to where you whimpered on the floor - breaths ragged and pained.
“Hey- hey, hey…” Sam crawled over to you, his hands slipping in the puddle of blood growing beside you. Your mouth gaped open, chin quivering as you tried to get out a word - any words. Sam pressed his hands into the wound and you only gasped because there wasn’t enough air in your lungs to scream.
“I know, honey, I know,” Sam fingered his phone out his pocket and called Dean, putting him on speaker and throwing the phone back down so that he could remain the pressure on your stomach.
“Sammy?” Deans voice flowed through the phone right next to you on the floor. You turned to the phone, seeing Deans name light up the screen and the timer going on the call. It was blurry and you blinked to try and focus but it didn’t help. You realize your eyes were full of tears.
Sam rambled out what had happened, his voice tight with worry and his hands trembling.
“We- we’re in the basement, I need you to get the kit from the car and get down here- now!” Sam’s voice left no room for questions or concerns so Dean didn’t even respond past saying “2 minutes”.
“Look at me, honey,” Sam cooed, tilting his head so that it lined up better with yours but it just made your vision spin more. You felt sick.
“Fuck-“ you mumbled, pressing your head back into the concrete floor. You just noticed your ears had been ringing because now the sound was starting to dull and the buzzing in your stomach started to tickle away into a searing pain.
“Baby, I need you to look at me- can you hear me?” Sam had removed a hand from your stomach and brought it up to your face, trying to snap you out of your shock. The overwhelming weight of the past 60 seconds of reality slammed back into your brain at full force and now your breathing was quick and you tried to sit up to look at the wound. “Woah, okay, baby. Calm down, Dean’s coming with some help and I’m gonna fix you- I’m gonna fix this,” he stated like a prayer, willing it by just his own desperation.
You could hear footsteps clunking around upstairs but Sam assured it was just Dean. Your mind was all over the place, constantly getting reset by the wash of pain ripping through your abdomen. The back and forth of what you tried to focus on felt like your metaphorical neck was about to snap from the emotional whiplash.
‘God, this sucked…’ you thought.
Sam continued to mumble reassurances and praises and you weren’t too sure if it was for him or yourself. He seemed to just be on autopilot. He gently lifted your torso which earned a soft cry from your lips, making Sam want to retreat further into the corner until he couldn’t hear or see or feel the secondhand of your pain.
“I know, honey, I just need to check something,” his voice was soft, or at least he was trying for it to be. You saw his face stiffen and you knew what he was about to say. “There’s no exit wound.”
Your jaw clenched and you closed your eyes. You tried to focus on the pain to gauge to location of the bullet.
“Where- where is it?” You stutter, looking up at Sam. Due to your current consciousness and Sam’s eagerness you can hope that it isn’t fatal.
“Uh- it’s…” he pulled up his hand to point to the side of his stomach, “you’re- you’re gonna be fine.”
He still looked completely freaked and pale, more worried about you bleeding out than from organ damage. He looked up as Dean descended the basement steps, Deans face falling at the sight before him.
Blood. There was a hell of a lot of blood. Sam’s hands were stained and his sleeves soaked. Dean fell to his knees right beside her and ripped open the kit.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean addressed you, smiled softly and looking into your eyes for just a moment, “You’re gonna be just fine.”
Dean pulled out a bottle of antiseptic and a pair of scissors then he looked up at Sam, “Sammy, you with me?” Dean demanded, knowing it’s hard for him so see you like this.
“Yeah- yeah, I’m here,” Sam cleared his throat and took the kit, Dean tore the fabric of your shirt and poured the antiseptic over your gaping bullet hole. You cried out.
“Fuck- Dean… maybe a wa-warning next time?” You stuttered out, your hands started to shake and you stared up at the ceiling, your vision blurring.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, working quick.
“Dean- the bullet is still in her,” Sam almost whispered and his face contorted into a cringe. Dean met Sam’s eyes with a sigh. Dean looked down at you and called out your name.
“You know what that means, don’t you sweetheart?” He asked, jaw clenched and hands already stained. You continued to look at the ceiling and just nodded, digging your fingers into your ribs to try and redirect your pain. It didn’t work, but you couldn’t stop. “Sam, tweezers,” Dean ticked his head to the kit that was now besides Sam.
You heard the clanking of metal and your own feared breaths. You wanted to sob but you felt frozen, completely and utterly in shock. The noise around you started to echo.
“-…2…1”
You scream. You scream as the cold tweezers claw their way past your freshly, air-exposed insides. Dean keeps the tweezers clenched on purpose and if you could think straight you would thank him.
Your body tries to squirm away but Sam is holding you in place and again- if you could think straight you would curse him.
Your jaw is clenched so tight that you worry your next injury may be a cracked tooth and your eyes are so screwed shut that you’re starting to see dancing colors and shapes on the back of your eyelids. You can hear Sam’s voice trying to reassure you but you can also feel the stiff metal fishing in your insides for the last piece stiff metal that fucked you over. It was agony.
Sam felt a thick, bunch of worry almost blocking off his windpipe. He could barely get a proper breath and he just stared down at your pain contorted face wishing there was something else he could do besides wait for Deans next instruction. Sams hands were sticky with your blood as he caresses your cheek and he knows that he should wipe off the blood first but he so desperately wants to comfort you and to be something more than what he is now.
Deans expression is stiff, his eyes unfocused and hands almost cramped from how tensely he’s holding himself. He created a mental image of the tweezers in your abdomen, working carefully and slowly, waiting for the… tick! That’s it, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and nodded at Sam, signaling he found the bullet. Dean almost glanced down at you but knew if he did he would loose his sense of collected attention. He positioned the tweezers to open them and latch onto the bullet and began to pull directly out of your flesh.
The motion earned a deep groan to rip through your throat that made Sam want to throw up but once the bullet was out, you all took a moment to catch your breath and look at the pebble that caused you so much pain.
“Honey, hey,” Sam pulled your cheek to look up at him, your eyes were glossy and crossed but you could see him enough, “Dean got it out, you’re gonna be fine okay?” Sam nodded, trying to get you to catch up with him mentally. You slowly lolled your head in an attempt to nod but the weight pressed against your skull like a magnetic ball trying to escape, you groaned again.
“Sam- gauze,” Dean commanded and Sam immediately listened, moving away from you just far enough to reach the requested item. Sam hands it to Dean. “Need a hand, Sammy.”
And Sam listens. It’s a rhythm that the brothers have learned over the many years working together, how to fight, work, stitch. Dean always took the lead while Sam held their ground and that’s exactly how they worked on your wound. Sam cleaned up excess blood and surrounding areas while Dean disinfected and readied a bandage. Quickly, the wound was patched up enough for them to move you and get you all the hell out of that musty basement.
“Think she can walk?” Dean asked Sam while he wiped your blood off of his hands, packing the kit back up. Sam looked down at you, a sweet, open look of wanting to absorb any and all details of your face, he smiled softly at you and shook his head.
“No, I’ll carry her,” Sam said without asking you first, not willing to risk you any more pain. He gently pressed a kiss to your forehead and held it for a moment. “You’re okay,” he repeated, this time for himself.
He slowly pulled away and worked his arms beneath you to lift you and as your body contorted you let out a soft, pathetic whimper. You were too tired to make any real noise.
Sam held you close as Dean lead the way out of a building they never wanted to see again.
#supernatural#sam winchester#dean winchester#fanfiction#fandom#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#x reader#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester angst#sam and dean#sam winchester and you#spnfandom#spn#spn fanfic#angst#angst with a happy ending#supernatural angst
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HELLO LOVELY PEOPLE!! this might be too specific of a trope so if it is i’m sorry ab that but do you know of any fics where crowley is cursed or controlled in some way to hurt aziraphale? thanks and have a slay day!!!
Hi! Here are some fics in which Crowley is forced into hurting Aziraphale. Mind the tags and warnings on ALL of these ones, folks!...
Hell's Greatest Punishment by evilwriter37 (E)
Hell possesses Crowley and makes him hurt Aziraphale as a way of punishing him.
F to pay respects (I swear this isn't a crackfic) by satiricalScythe (NR)
In which upon failing to destroy the traitors to Heaven and Hell themselves, Gabriel and Beelzebub realize what they much do - if they can't destroy Aziraphale and Crowley, they'll make them destroy each other. Idk if this really earned the graphic depictions tag, but better safe than sorry. It was originally far more bloody but I cut a lot of parts out to make it work.
The Night Of Time by NuriaSchnee (E)
Aziraphale and Crowley are about to take their relationship to the next level when Gabriel and Michael's wrath falls on them. To punish them, they implant a fake reality into Crowley's memory in which he becomes a proper demon for a while and hurts Aziraphale several times. However, they leave Azirapahale untouched and aware that none of it has been real.
The Uncanny Valley by mozbee (E)
“Oi, Crawley.” He freezes, then turns, because you should never turn your back on a Duke of Hell. He sees the woman leering at him, and kicks himself for not paying attention before, to her blank eyes, the slightly sour smell wafting off her now he’s looking for it. “Have a nice night,” she rasps, and suddenly lifts her hand and blows a palmful of black powder into his face. Crowley coughs and stumbles back, out of the elevator, dropping to the floor, eyes watering. Its gone up his nose, down his throat; he can feel it, cloying and irritating. “What the fuck—” he tries, but suddenly he’s gripped with a new, urgent thought: angel. He pauses, mind perking up at the thought. Angel. He stares up at Hastur, who’s giggling and tossing long blonde hair over his borrowed shoulder. “That’s right, demon: you smell an angel.” “I—” It’s important, this bit about the angel, but it’s harder to put his finger on why. “You smell the angel,” Hastur says, and reaches out, to grip his chin in harsh fingers. “You want to kill the angel, don’t you, Crawley? Don’t you, demon?”
Fire in the Blood by Lurlur (E)
Heaven and Hell are in disarray, Earth is feeling the consequences. Crowley is hit with a lust curse from a rogue incubus which triggers a series of events that he'll never be able to undo. This fic features explicit rape and the aftermath. It is emotionally ugly. Look after yourselves.
Branded by Bookwormgal (M)
The mark on Crowley's face was not a tattoo. When Lucifer, still furious and his pride damaged, took out his frustration out on the first thing to catch his attention after the Fall. Rage, possessiveness, and a need to prove that he was not as weak as he felt when he was cast out spurred him into action. He claimed the broken and fallen creature in every way, relishing the confusion and fear. And he left a piece of his power tangled up in the former angel's essence, the only easily visible sign being a shape manifesting on his eventual corporeal body. But rather quickly, Lucifer found other things to occupy himself and the demon was sent up to Earth to cause some trouble. Six thousand years later and newly-enraged by the betrayal and halted apocalypse, Lucifer finally decides to make use of that power that he left behind. The devil is not one to surrender something that he'd claimed so easily. And the traitor would pay. He would make Crowley suffer.
- Mod D
#good omens#ineffable husbands#adult omens#mind control#major archive warning#graphic depictions of violence#non con#angst#mod d
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Episode 16
I'm ready for the pain. *whimpers* Bring it on...
.......
Whyyyy is Zhu Yan's (much shorter) hair fully grey when he was younger? Is my boy vain? Did he start colouring it as he got older? 😂
Okay so young Li Lun is a sulky bitch. I'm getting "teenager forced to come on a family holiday and determined to hate it just because" vibes...
Why do I feel like I know the dragon mountain god somewhere?
*goes to check MDL*
Meh, he's done this and My Journey to You (which I only got a few eps into before getting distracted) and two movies that I've not seen. So, no idea why he seems familiar.
Though for some reason (his styling maybe - with the braids and the hint of moustache?) he is giving me Nie Mingjue vibes...
Ahahahaaaa they knew in advance that Zhu Yin was skanky!! 😁
Gotta say (I have mentioned it before) I am loving the narrative device they keep using in this show where they flash back to a previous scene and show more of it/detail that we didn't get shown the first time around that completely reframes the current scene and shows that they were expecting this and had stuff planned in advance...
But wherrrre is my boy Bai Jui during all this? Ying Lei asked this earlier and Zhuo Yichen said he should be with Pei Sijing... I took that at the time to mean they still had no idea that Sijing is the spy and thought he was somewhere safe with her... but could it mean that they do know/suspect and they maybe sent Bai Jiu after her, knowing she would spot him and (trusting she wouldn't actually hurt or kill him - which is a big risk tbh?) would have to stay and guard him, thus keeping Bai Jiu away from the fight *and* taking Sijing out of the fight?
Aiya... Ying Lei living up to his potential as a mountain god...
Uhoh, dragon boy is fighting back with his weather-controlling powers.
And Li Lun is just standing there not doing shit. 😂 Like... dude... they are all occupied with either holding the area or spell-casting inside it. You could just walk up and stab em and they wouldn't be able to do much to fight you off...
Oh shit no... dragon dude is not controlling the weather... he's making it night time rather than day...
Which means... blood moon
Oh SHIT!
Welp Zhu Yan pulling in all the malicious qi has at least dealt with the creatures outside the gate... but on the other hand you've now got a MUCH bigger problem!!
Well fuck
So the Baize token was what was shackling Li Lun and that's why he wanted it broken... bullshit about breaking the barrier between the wasteland and the mortal world so demons could be free was just the lie he sold Zhu Yin to get him on board (just like the lie he sold Qing Geng - this is his modus operandi)
God this is glorious imagery...
Goddamit though, Zhu Yan has absorbed all the malicious qi and very clearly lost control but all he does for the longest time is just hover there... he doesn't immediately go on an indiscriminate rampage. I can only imagine him spending all that time hovering just... trying to cling to control...?
And the first person he *does* go for is Zhu Yin, who betrayed him and his friends.
Ugh the dismissive ease with which he shrugs off the mountain god's power...
Oh man, the slow deliberate malice in the way he moves...
I shouldn't be finding this expression hot AF, right?
OMG look at how distressed he is - even after everything Li Lun has done - at seeing his friend be sealed...
So... it was *again* a blood moon that caused Zhu Yan to kill Zhao Wan'er? But... where did the blood moon suddenly come from? Or did it appear *because* Zhu Yan started absorbing malicious qi?
The *sound* in this scene... no music at all... just silence and the over-loud, almost distorted-sounding sounds - slosh of the water from Wan'er's footsteps, her breathing, the washing of the waves....
So. Fucking. Atmospheric.
But wait, in this memory he attacks Wen Xiao and (it looks like?) ?breaks her neck? (Or does he just knock her unconscious?) That didn't happen though in the other depictions we've seen of this scene? Is this memory faked/altered? In fact... how the fuck can Li Lun be showing her a "memory" of shit that went down after he was sealed? He wasn't there to see any of this? I call bullshit! Unless... he somehow stole this memory from Zhu Yan?
Oh SHIT is the blood moon where he killed Wan'er the same one in which he attacked Demon Hunting Bureau?!!
This song by Hou Minghao is so melancholy and haunting... and even more playing over this scene...
Oh what the fuck Sijing actually fighting on the side of the good guys? Or is she...?
Also wtf happened to her boss who was outside the gate. Why has he not gotten involved in the latest shenanigans... he wants Zhu Yan's core still, doesn't he?
Oooh baby bro enters the fray!!
Using Ying Lei's blood to fire up the sword?!
Oooh divine blood, demon blood & the Bingyi clan blood on the sword = maximum effort!
Ooooooh is he faking? I've been slightly spoiled about Zhu Yan giving him immunity to his one word spell... are we gonna get another flashback showing that that already happened and Zhuo Yichen is once again pretending to be in a coma to get the upper hand?
Fuck WHAT?!! You end it THERE?!!!
And it's fucking 3am, I cannot watch another episode, I will have to go to bed and SUFFER until tomorrow!!
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Bridget x fem! Oc
"Red, my dearest, don't cut your hair like that." Hecate had walked in on a 17 year old Red, sitting begrudgingly at her vanity chair and was about to snil a whole chunk of hair off, probably because she was frustrated at it.
"Go away Hecate."
"Mh, sure, after you've given me those scissors, or else my head'll be the next one rolling." She joked, something that was strictly forbidden.
"What would you like me to do princess?" Red held up her hair in a half up half down, which she had been trying to do for a while now, but it just wouldn't sit right.
"There, no need to cut it all of, it takes longer to grow lost things back than it does to cut it off." She smiled at Red through the mirror, patting her shoulders and staring at her for a bit as she did her makeup.
"Creep."
"I'm allowed to stare at you kid, you've grown so much Red, it's weird how much you're like your mom." Red scoffed, hooding up her tube of mascara as if it was her mom's scepter and mocking her accent.
"Off with their heads!" Hecate laughed, the same loud and warm laugh that's been in every good memory Red has ever had.
"Exactly like that kiddo, just add a bit more black to your eyeshadow and you'd be a carbon copy!" She stopped laughing and looked at Red suspiciously.
"Well, i'd say your tutoring session is already done, but apparently Maddox had forgotten to give you some homework." Red frowned in confusion, what the fuck was that old lady on about?
Maddox landed on the couch she had but in the corner of her room, waving at them through the mirror with some papers.
"Good morning my Hecate!" The woman smiled at him, patting Red's shoulder once again before turning around and leaving.
"Gods, she's changed so much." Maddox reminisced about his past memories of the witch, not realising that Red had turned around in her chair.
"Has she really changed that much?"
"Mhm, there used to be a time where she was engaged... not that she'll ever be able to have a love life anymore though, so I wouldn't dwell on it too much." He shrugged, handing her the papers and quickly rushing out before she could ask more.
"Stupid Maddox and his shitty cliffhangers."
-
Red wasn't going to tell anyone that Maddox's words had intrigued her, so she obviously also didn't tell anybody that she was 'lurking' around in the court magician's quarters, even though it was her home sk it wasn't considered lurking, it felt as if she was, because she had never been in this hall before.
Much like how the queen had a hall of portraits of past rulers, the court magicians had a similar hall, with their engagements, accomplishments and marriages depicted on a plaque under their portrait.
When she had finally gotten through the endless sea of bright purple blue hair, and her eyes landed on Hecate's face, she searched the portrait for anything first.
She had an axe swung across her shoulder, the same muscled build, mostly same clothing, the hearts on her trousers were shades of pink, not red... weird, especially when the hearts on her shoulders kept their pink.
Her eyes trialed over her portrait, she saw a mass of bodies piled up behind her, making up the entirety of the back of it, but just far enough that you won't spot it when you first look.
"What the fuck..." she breathlessly muttered, leaning closer as she distinguished the bodies of human beings, including massive giants and sea creatures.
"Oh wow, she's a fucking monster, good to know." Red rolled her eyes, then went on to read the plaque.
"Hecate Spades and her weapon: the princess of Hearts, engaged to Queen Bridget Hearts- WHAT?!" Red's eyed widened, leaning closer and rubbing over the plaque as she saw her mother's name.
"Yeah, that was such a long time of my life, i'f wish it upon my worst enemy... but y'know, don't have any anymore." Hecate shrugged, as if she hadn't just scared the life out of the girl she considered a daughter.
"What?"
"YOU NEARLY MARRIED MY MOTHER?!" Hecate nodded, looking down at the princess with a smile.
"Mhm, definitely almost did." She shrugged, "but, someone has to carry on the court's magician line, and i'm not sure how that would work if we merged with the royal line." Red suspiciously eyed her, that was not the real reason for the break up.
"Then where is your heir then? Mh?" Hecate smirked at her.
"You." Red choked, then saw Hecate laughing and slapped her.
"Hey! Not funny!" Hecate stopped laughing, staring at Red for a while, seemingly out of it before she nudged her arm.
"Hellooooo?"
"Right, actually, i'm training my niece for it, she's my father's sister's son's daughter, she had a high affinity in magic, and if she gets my magic when I pass, she might be up to par with me." She looked down at the plaque, eyes zeroing in on the queen Bridget of Hearts part, if she ever found out, she'd have no niece to teach.
"Let's leave before she finds us here-."
"Red. What are you doing here." The queen herself had left her throne room purely to find her daughter, now that was rare.
Hecate stiffened up, which Red noticed, and pushed the girl to her daughter, standing in front of her portrait with a matching grin.
"What'cha think? Do I still look as amazing as 2 decades ago?" She put her hands on her side and puffed up her chest, Red let out a giggle at it, and Hecate looked at her with soft eyes, remembering more and more of her Bridget the longer she spend with her.
"You look utterly stupid, stop this nonsense at once." Speaking of the woman, she was staring straight into Hecate's eyes, who smiled at her.
"Will do so, my queen." She bowed, disappearing into nothing in less than a second.
"Hey, mom? Were you ever engaged-..." Red trialed off with a frown, looking at the plaque, where once stood engaged to to Queen Bridget of Hearts' now laid a blank spot.
"Why are you spouting such nonsense, out of this hall! Now! And I better not find you snooping here again! I bet Hecate put you up to this, didn't she?!"
-
"Can I see the princess of Hearts?" Red had been begging Hecate for a few weeks now, and was officially hanging off of her leg to try persuade her.
"Okay! If you stop... whatever this is?" Hecate groaned out, stopping in front of Red's quarters, where she was supposed to drop her off.
"You are not small enough to do that anymore!" Red smirked as she stood up, crossing her arms as she stood before her heart shaped doors.
"Show me!" Hecate pulled out a mirror with a cheeky grin, Red glared at her.
"Okay! Okay! Calm it kid..." She trialed off, gesturing with her hand, and then the axe was there, giant pink heart and all.
"Here you go." She held it out to the princess, whose former titleholder it was named after.
"Is it named after... you know?" She spoke softly, as if trying to preserve the magic the weapon held in her eyes.
"Your mom? Yeah, but my cover up story is that she has a heart and it's my princess." Red rolled her eyes once more at the lame coverup.
"Don't roll your eyes at me young lady!"
"It's too late to go back from being the fun uncle Hecate!" Red teased, her arms slowly starting to tremble from the weight of the axe.
"I'll hold her for you, i'll place her down in your room so you can inspect her all you want." She had to get out of there before Red reminded her too much of Bridget.
"Yeah sure, what kind of stone is that?"
"A lover's secret, ironically enough."
"That's so corny."
-
"I can go back in time and see how Hecate looked for myself now?! I've always wanted to see how she defeated that giant seamonster!" Maddox snatched the watch out of her hands.
"No Hecate related trips until you're older! Promised?" Red hiffed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot on the ground.
"All right! I won't go on any Hecate related trips in the near future!" Maddox nodded, relieved.
"Also, I have the Princess of Hearts in my room right now, you wanna go check it out?" Maddox shook his head yes wildly.
-
"-invited to join Auradon Prep." Red saw Hecate's features sour from besides her mother, who looked shocked for a while.
"We accept!" Even Hecate seemed surprised, and she was never surprised at anything her mother did.
"Wait what?"
"You shall go to Auradon Prep! Now go and pak your bags!"
"Did my mom just grow a heart?" Red frowned as she asked Maddox, who also seemed confused.
"And dress in something respectable! For once try not looking like Hecate..." Red shrugged, that was a compliment in her books.
"Okay so half a heart, i'm gonna go ask Hecate why she looked so sour! Bye!"
"Why did you look so sour?" Red popped up in Hecate's office through the hidden door behind one of the paintings, Hecate staring at where she popped up long after she had jumped down.
"Mh?" She snapped out of her memory of having to catch Bridget from when she tried to come in through there, swallowing the knot in her throat for later.
"Why'd you look so sour?"
"I went to Auradon Prep..."
"HUH?!"
"It wasn't called that yet stupid, sit down somewhere, I'll tell you a story about your mom that not many know, only like... three people are left." Red quickly plopped down onto the comfortable chair she had Hecate place close to her desk in a corner.
"Tell!"
"Okay, so, it used to be called Merlin's academy, because, of course, Merlin was the big man there." Red nodded, urging her to continue.
"And my dad was a douchebag, so he said I could 't join Bridget there unless I defeated an entire army, which I did by the way! And then when I finally got there Bridget didn't recognise me. Blah blah blah, almost a year later, family day, her parents show up-."
"Mom had parents? She didn't just... spawn?"
"Shut up kid. -and they revealed that I was her childhood best friend, she was all shocked like what?? Oh my good gracious heavens how did I not recognise you?!"
"She cussed like that?"
"It's not about that?!" Red sighed and rolled her eyes.
"The end, not happily ever after because we eventually broke up after like... 7 years." She let that information sink in.
"You guys were in a relationship until I was like...5?"
"I think it's more 6? Who cares, we're both shit at math, which is why you need to find yourself a girl who's good at counting stuff because we're both fucking bad at it, and I already found a girl like that but it didn't work out for me but it will for you!" the princess rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair.
"You wanna help pack?"
"Hell yeah!"
-
"Don't forget to brush your teeth every morning and evening, and then don't forget to do your skincare, you never know when you might end up in a picture that they might post, having pimples when that happens is so fucking annoying." Red slapped Hecate's hands away, who was fussing over her even though she was supposed to put her luggage into her dorm.
"Hecate?" A blue haired woman was looking at them, and Hecate grinned at her, the girl standing next to the blue haired woman staring wide eyed at the woman.
"Ella! I'm not really allowed to talk to you... is this Chloe? She's way prettier in person! Where'd she get all that from?" Red awkwardly stood next to her, trying to leave but instead being kept there by Hecate, who gave her a shove into the direction of Chloe, who was freaking out about the fact that thee Hecate Spades was standing in front of her.
"Well obviously from me."
"Mh... not sure, i'm way prettier."
"Hecate... we're adults now, we're better than this."
"You might be, i'm still not over the fact that you threw that rock at my forehead, I think I even have a scar! Look!" She held up her hair and leaned her forehead closer, Ella laughed and slapped her arm.
"Oh my god! You normally would've punched me... has royalty pressure changed you?" Ella looked away from her.
"It did? That's not good-...."
Red zoned back in on the girl now holding her hands.
"Hi!i'm Chloe? You must be Red! My new roomie!" Red witheld a grimace, instead slowly nodding.
"Yeah... sure."
-
"Bridget, don't." Hecate spoke up before the queen could say what she wanted to, but she only gave her a glare and stood up to pronounce war onto Auradon, throwing her cards up.
Hecate sighed as she stood up, holding out her hand for Red, who slowly shook her head as she looked up at the woman who had essentially raised her.
"I don't want to die, please don't let me die." She heard Hecate whisper into the breeze, empowered only by hope and her own strength that it might reach someone's ears.
"I don't want to kill, I'm not good for anything else, please don't do this." It was really Hecate, Red watched as her mouth moved, only whispers coming out that she could only half hear.
"Please don't make me use her."
-
"Sweetheart!" Bridget smiled as Hecate walked into the courtyard, Red's eyes widening as she saw the stray blood splatters on the bottom of her trousers.
That certainly explained why they're red now -it didn't, but maybe???-
"Princess!" Hecate grinned, rushing towards Bridget and picking her up to spin her around, pecking her lips several times.
"Hey! Big lady! Let the princess down!" Ella kicked Hecate's shins, the girl glaring down at her as she held Bridget close.
"Shut up Ella. I got you this!" She smiled as she fished a small bag out of her pocket, presenting it tk Bridget like it was priceless, carefully setting her down.
"Is this?" Bridget gasped, eyes wide.
"I saw one of them on my way back from fishing for those fish you wanted, I got a few of its teeth and grinded it to the powder for you! Also I put an anti stink spell on the fish... why do you need them though?" Bridget smiled, placing a finger to her lips.
"Secret!"
"Awwwww!" Ella kicked her again. "Hey little ant girl! Stop that!"
"Sunfish!"
"Dwarf!"
As the two continued exchanging insults, Red and Chloe glanced at each other.
What the fuck.
-
Well, they stopped the prank, ish? And headed back, but they ended up still not back, instead they were in a very specific room in the Hearts castle, the Queen's, it seemed like they weren't there in person, more like their conscious was.
"Bridget? Where are you?" Hecate called out into the room as she walked in, walking through the two girls.
"I'm here, no need to be sk worried." Bridget giggled, looked at Hecate from the bathroom doorpost.
"Are we interrupting something?"
"Shhhhh."
"Why sre your eyes red? What happened? Do I need to-?"
"Kill someone?" Bridget finished with a frown, looking down at the floor.
Hecate kneeled down in front of her to be in her line of sight, holding her knees and placing her chin on her stomach.
"what's wrong?" A tear fell onto her forehead, Hecate didn't stop looking up at the no-darker pink haired woman, who's hands were shaking as they gripped onto her light pink sleeping gown.
"Why do you always kill everything?"
Red's eyes widened, the Hecate she knew had begged her not to have her kill, not to die, not to use her most prideful weapon, this was a whole other Hecate.
"I'd burn the world down for you, my queen." Chloe Awwed, Red hit her for it.
"I don't want you to burn the world for me, I want you to be here with me and watch the world flourish, not burn, I don't want to hurt the world anymore than I have to." Hecate kept silent, she knew what this meant.
"I won't kill for you anymore, I can swear on my life-."
"Don't do that, you'll just kill yourself, that's not what I want, I don't want the world to burn, but all you do is set it ablaze further. I don't want that." Hecate's eyes began to water, leaning back a bit so the can look down and lean with her head against her.
"Just say it."
"What're they talking about?" Chloe whispered to Chloe, who had walked closer to hear their hushed conversation, as if the whole world was in this room, as if their whole paradise was about to crumble within these walls, nowhere further.
"Shut up Chloe."
"I don't think this engagement is a good idea.... We're not right for each other." Hecate's tears finally hit the hardwood floors, Bridget slowly combing her fingers through her hair.
"Don't do this, don't do this to me." The queen's tears fell onto Hecate's hair, slowly rolling off or sticking in between the ruffled strands.
"I have to, I can't let everything burn for us, it's not who I am."
"And I respect that! I don't need to set it all ablaze for you! I can just.... Not do that! I'll watch everything grow with you! I'll watch Red grow up and be just like you! Please don't-." She stopped talking abruptly, slumping down and sitting on her knees completely slouched.
"We'll watch her grow up, just not together."
Red hadn't noticed her own tears until Chloe was stood next to her, gently holding her hand and leaning against her.
"It's allright, you can cry about it." Red let a soft sob escape her lips, hiding her face in Chloe's shoulder and crying as Hecate slowly stood up and exited, leaving Bridget, who fell on top of her bed and sobbed into the pillows.
-
"Red! My daughter!" Bridget held open her arms for her daughter, who hesitated a bit before accepting the hug.
"Where's Hecate?" She felt her mother tense a bit under her, but she didn't see it otherwise, and she was greeted by a warm hand on her back.
"Wassup kid, i'm happy you're going to attend almost the same school as us! We had such a good time here..." Red glanced at Chloe, who was next to her, both in silent understanding that yes, that was a really sad tone.
"You'll find friends in no time!" Bridget smiled brightly, hugging her again.
"The castle will feel incredibly empty without my little felon."
"Well maybe it will be easier to clean up without you influencing her every move." Hecate jokingly crossed her arms, turning away from them slightly.
"Stop it you crybaby!" Red grinned out, grabbing Hecate and pulling her into the hug, cautiously eyeing her as she stared at her mother with soft, lovesick eyes.
"How about I show you guys where your pictures are, they still have them, you know." Ella nudged Hecate, who dragged both Chloe and Red with, Bridget trying to stop them.
"Come on princess!" Bridget stuttered in her step, eyes widening as she nearly got sucked into a memory of the three of them running around, her usually after the two others, who were wrecking havoc, and always with the same two sentences being thrown at her by Hecate and Ella.
"Yeah! Let's go!" Ella grabbed Bridget's wrist and dragged her with, leading the group towards the wall filled with pictures.
"Oh! Castlecoming! You two were announced cutest couple!" Ella excitedly pointed out, her finger pointing towards the two, wrpaped up in a loving embrace, Bridget in a beautiful light pink ballgown, and Hecate in a matching white suit, with a light pink blouse.
"Always matcht the lady." Hecate shrugged it outt with a proud grin, "also helps if the lady doesn't give me dead rats."
"You know, i'm thinking about kicking your shins again, i'm wearing pointy heels!"
Bridget watched as her family ran around again, and even though she had never wanted to see the world burn, she'd have loved to watch this flourish with Hecate by her side.
#rise of red#ror#the depths contrapts#descendants#bridget of wonderland#descendants 4#ruby rose turner#descendants the rise of red#bridgetx reader#bridget x oc#bridget x reader
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okay but i actually kinda wanna know ur take on stridercest being canon compliant O_O <- autism stare
oh hey i am also hitting you with the autism stare. ill try to get my thoughts down in a way that makes sense to more than just me hahaha
bear in mind that im an epilogue lover and i think Meat/Candy are really valuable pieces that further all of the characters and are also hard canon in the sense that we're looking at just 2 post-game universe outcomes out of an uncountable number (the book in the picnic basket representing post-canon fanfic). i think the characters actions in the epilogues make sense and are satisfying to me. yes even jane (i love alpha jane and i will not do her the disservice of 'cleaning her up' w/o showing her work for it. thats not how you depict a character who grew up with fascist programming). i could totally go on a whole tangent about this specifically but thats another post lol we'd be here forever and its also not stridercest
but okay. canon stridercest. under the cut cause it got kinda long
basically it has to do with the cherubs and how their relationships and mating rituals are pretty obviously incestuous leaning even though cherubs dont have the human concept of Siblings or blood family. the cherub who predominates will search across paradox space to mate with another cherub who closely resembles the cherub they predominated which is like textbook Freudian sexuality. theres a lot of Freud and Jungian stuff in HS imo even if im kinda [wobbly hand gesture] at the validity of these theories applied to real life and real people. but theyre super fun tools and lenses to use in fiction and i mean. gestures at all of dave
so the incest aliens cherubs. the whole reason why im talkin about them is bc Caliborn is so incredibly interested and invested in the Striders in particular. caliborn as both Lord English and Lil Cal shapes earth NOT OVERTLY but more so embeds himself in earth society, but again, the Striders lives in particular. dave is full of incest jokes. hes even apparently got a list of his friends arranged in order of how likely theyd incest-elope with each other (thank you epilogues for this amazing factoid). he seems to think about it often enough to, yknow, Do That. have a good solid think about that and construct an organized list about it. bearing in mind dave makes jokes about stuff thats a) bothering him, or b) generally camping out in his brain. hes not even really aware of it most of the time (as we see in one of the openbounds where hes all 'why am i thinking about puppets???' after seeing dirk for the first time in that dream bubble. he is thinking nonstop about dirk at that point and going off his only frame of reference for ANY dirk, which is his bro. his bro who was most likely deeply warped by Lil Cal)
sorry for the long blocky paragraph lol. but now onto the next thing
Caliborn as Lil Cal is the centerpiece in the beta strider apartment. dave cant escape him and beta dirk grew up with him. what the fuck do you do when youre childhood comfort item is also the most evil creature across all of paradox space? if youre a dirk you try to fight it. but how long can you keep fighting something like that. its safe to say that bro was affected by Caliborns particular brand of perversion and sfw kink. i dont think i have to say how insidious abusive and toxic he is about those things. and looking at the truth of beta bro (16yo alpha dirk) you can start to see just how warped beta bro became. beta bro is a false dirk (still a very Real dirk but not the Truth of dirk. beta bro has been toxified and made infinitely worse by an absolute evil influence over decades of life. in 80s fuckin texas. presumably in the system. anyone would be fucked up after that)
so for this analysis/theory im stating beta bro as a false persona. using jungian terms he is apha dirk's shadow
both dave and dirk live with a fake, carefully manicured version of their bros. they live with personas (or shadows of their guardians on the walls. hello platos allegory of the cave). they dont actually know e/o and they dont until the striunion
alpha dirk especially grows up embedded in the Public Persona Of Dave Strider 400 years post mortem and completely alone with unlimited internet access. hes a self admitted expert on his bro and we dont get to see a lot if any of his early childhood but i can hazard a guess at how much he clung to that persona of his bro. he fuckin idolizes dave. he LOVES dave. right off the bat he is in some kind of love with dave and i think if you try to argue against that then thats you slippin. i think youre a fool and have to reread homestuck because i wholeheartedly believe the striders loving eachother is part of the win state
once again this is speculation cause we get barely anything about alpha dave, but from what we already know about him im guessing this bro-persona is
achingly effortlessly cool
oozing masculinity (toxic or not, not really interested in categorizing that although toxic coolboy masculinity IS something the striders contend with & is an important facet in their lives)
a skilled fighter
a dedicated moviegoer (hes a director need i say more. this one is probably the only genuine thing about his on-screen persona)
and now lets look at jake. someone whos grown up on pretty much nothing but movies, whos doubtlessly been influenced by hollywood and its idea of gritty 'main character' masculinity through that, and who also clings to more old-school ideas of manliness (think victorian/edwardian era gentlemanly-but-loves-a-good-scrum kinda manly. moustache twirly with a monocle kinda manly. basically everything that grandpa harley is)
but okay lets look at what jake wants to be. lets take a look at his teenager persona
achingly effortlessly cool (his own 'hollywood star' kind of cool also def influenced by his favourite characters like lara croft who is indeed achingly cool. you see him succeed in inhabiting this hollywood star persona on earth c)
oozing masculinity (the old school manly mans-man kind)
a skilled fighter (two pistoles always. harder to aim cause you cant use a free hand to make up for kickback. that takes skill)
a dedicated moviegoer (again one of the only genuine parts about his persona. his questionable-to-wretched tastes aside. but bearing in mind that the SBaHJ movies are intentionally bad which is what makes them loop around to good. such is the nature of intentionally 'bad' art. jake fuckin lives in this perpetual bad-good art loop. okay enough with the art tangent keep focused man cmon)
because dirk has obviously way more contact with jake i dont doubt he sees through jakes own (admittedly way more flimsy) coolboy persona but the point still stands i think. different flavours but the same kinda guy. dirk has a type and i dont think its a stretch to say that hes looking for aspects of the bro-persona he grew up looking at in other boys, much like the winning cherub looking for the one they lost in the cherub theyll mate with
also wtf is with dirks obvious boner for dave chasing him across paradox space to decapitate him huh?? the last few sentences in Meat are about that very thing. he wants to fuc fight dave sooo bad. haha remember how the cherubic mating ritual is one of the most violent and long running spectacles in paradox space? i sure do
#stridercest#davedirk#dirkdave#alphacest#my t#thank you if you read all this HAHAHA#i am dedicated to my craft (autistic) (indulgent)
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My favorite thing about werewolves is when the show/book/movie/etc shows how much happier they are as a werewolf. They’re comfortable in their skin, happy with their abilities and their body! Not horrified of what they are or just shown as a monster.
(Is this me talking about being trans subtly? Maybe. Up to you.)
Listen lycanthropy has been a metaphor for so many things over the years. I think it all depends on the way that the wolf is depicted more than the way the human handles it. Is the wolf a sapient creature that is able to think, reason, and communicate on a human level? Or is it a wild animal that one can only hope to impede but never control?
A werewolf that is able to think on a human level even in their fully transformed form is probably going to be fine with being a werewolf. It sucks to transition, there's a lot of work involved, and society may have a hard time accepting them initially, but they aren't hurting anyone and ultimately they're just like everyone else except for the "turning into a wolf" thing. <- Great metaphor for queer-ness.
A werewolf that is unable to control themselves once they transform, unable to be reasoned with on a human level because they're reduced to baser instincts like fuck/fight/flee, running amok and causing havoc no matter where they go and what they do? Potentially purposefully infecting other people in order to grow their numbers and then attempting to live among the general population only to lash out when they're discovered? <- bad metaphor for queer-ness.
But I also think the second one is a great story about the way that good people can be transformed into monsters when given the tools and environment to do so. In the original wolf-man film our titular wolf-man is cursed to become a wolf after killing a Romani man. Despite attempts from the Romani man's mother to help the wolf-man he ultimately rebuked her and ended up dead because no one would take him seriously.
In traditional mythos werewolves could be seen as a way to explore the violence that some people enact without cause. Perhaps it isn't man that is able to kill indiscriminately but a man possessed by a wolf. We might see various ways to "cure" lycanthropy and all the different ways to tell if your loved one has been cursed as attempts to understand sudden mood changes or anti-social disorders. Werewolves aren't my area of expertise, but myths always reflect a fear of the time or become an attempt to explain the unexplained. So. Y'know. Maybe it is that deep.
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Good Omens Fic Rec: creature of mine
"Dunno why, but s'not working this time. M'not resssponding to it." Crowley's eyes flickered with something entirely unreadable. "I need a warm body." "I see." "Can't even use my fingers properly with these bloody claws. Still, feels better to have something warm, something moving." Aziraphale attempted to make sense of Crowley's words, his head pounding viciously. A warm body. "Would you like me to... hold you again?" Crowley smiled, open-mouthed and beastly. His fangs glistened in the darkness. "Need you to fuck me, angel." Or: Aziraphale buys Crowley a snake plant, hoping to please Crowley with the appealing smell of its flowers. Its effects on Crowley are far more extreme than Aziraphale anticipated, and it’s down to him to face them head-on.
Length: 21,253 Words
AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Best for: After Dark, Canon AU
Triggers: None
Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia
*Minor Spoilers* Buckle in, it's long post time. I admit to bias in the length of this post because I love this author, but above all, my enjoyment of this story is so genuine and I am so proud to recommend that you all read it too. This was written for the sex pollen event that has been going on recently (so many more for me to read!) and it's one I knew was coming but didn't know too many details about. So when I woke up to the email that it was posted, I knew I was going to have such a good morning, and oooh boy did I.
Caught outside in the rain, Aziraphale steps briefly into an exotic plant shop to stay dry. When he spots a beautiful flowering snake plant, well, he's free from Heaven now and free to buy his friend a gift. And what a gift it will be when they realize that the plant's pollen contains the exact pheromones that trigger Crowley's snake desires. Even though I knew exactly where this was going, the actual journey was so intoxicating. When the effects first take hold, neither of them knows exactly what to do. Both are locked into shame and embarrassment over the situation, but the trust and protection they have for each other is sturdy. Crowley struggles with losing control and the pain of vulnerability, while Aziraphale tries desperately to deny his own wants and desires. He represses it all to protect Crowley. And isn't this just the most beautiful metaphor for their entire relationship? As always, they get there in the end. It's as heartwarming as it is sensual. I will never tire of them completely surrendering to each other.
The thing I always love most about this narrative style is how it blends poetry and smut. It will paint with gorgeous prose and then snap our attention back with its explicit language. It's thrilling to me and a shining example of how rich smut stories can be. I'm awed and horny! And I have to say, this was such a clever and interesting take on Crowley's snake body! Naga/Monster fuckers, this one needs to be made a priority for you. It was described in excellent detail but also depicted gorgeously by the included art! I've still got goosebumps over the third piece of included art! The color palette! The bodies!! The emotion! I'm in love. Both author and artist have a talent for making me feel so at home in my own body with their works. I just trust them implicitly, and they make it so easy to imagine how everything would feel to my own skin.
This is an at-home, after-dark read. It will have you sweating and squirming, but also in awe of their closeness and the trust they have in each other. How endless their devotion is. How beautiful this story is. But let's be real, I'm also thinking about how fun their next round with this plant could be now that they're on the same page. Next time, with the walls completely down, they are going to have the most pleasurable night of their life for the rest of their lives.
Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#good omens fanfic#fanfic rec#aziracrow#good omens fic rec#aziraphale x crowley#creature of mine#ineffabildaddy#omens_for_ophelia#medium#five flames#sex pollen#canon au#snake crowley#naga crowley
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I kinda just wanna write game reviews here sometimes. *Ahem*
It's pretty damn rare that you find a piece of media like this throughout the course of your life.
One that elegantly, carefully, and lovingly traverses infinite despair in an infinitely more hopeful way. One that shows you that no true problem can be solved in a single day. One that teaches of the compassion in our hearts, for those around us and the world we all live in.
And, for me, one that teaches that in the face of despair, fear, and sadness, beauty can also be found, and that no matter how pointless it can seem, fighting, trying, and persistence is how we can push through the end of the world. And now matter how all encompassing it may seem, the end is never truly the end. It's just a new beginning.
I am, of course, referring to...
Before I continue, I must clarify, as I did in my ACT review, this will feature spoilers, and moreso than almost any other game I've played, you simply must play this blind if you can.
Ok, a brief, completely spoiler free review. *Ahem again*
Outer Wilds is a beautiful, relaxing yet occasionally stressful first person space exploration game, in which the only currency you collect through the game is knowledge. The solar system is your own journey through the puzzle box the devs made. The music is beautiful and touching, the visuals are distinct yet simple, and the story is like nothing else. The only genuine 10/10 I can give. It's brilliant.
Ok, I will now put a funny picture, this is your opportunity to leave spoiler free.
3
2
1
Ok now time for the real gamers to chat.
This game. This fucking game. It reaches deep to the innermost part of my mind and soul and shows me a more accurate depiction of the human experience than any other game, and it don't even got humans.
It is the absolute definition of existential optimism, and I think it's refreshing, and borderline spiritual.
And this fact is helped because the way you get to the end is entirely up to you. Every single person who plays this game will play it differently. Everyone follows what they find amazing and interesting, and everyone finds what they think is, and they fly and crash and die and laugh and love every moment they spend in this dark, enrapturing galaxy.
The combination of nostalgic foresty landscapes, crumbling planets, shoddy craftsmanship, and banjo laden melancholy music make for a uniquely sentimental game, which allows you to connect with what theyve done.
I mean fuck some of the coolest ideas for planets and worlds I've ever seen.
Brittle Hollow and it's crumbling deadly surface, and infinitely heavy black hole at the center
Dark Bramble, always enshrouded in fog and mystery, endlessly repeating dangerous, vine coated voids filled with the most terrifying creatures in the known universe
The Hourglass Twins, the most clearly time based astral body of all, as two planets pirouette through the sky, trading impossible amounts of sand due to a shift in gravity
And of course, the Quantum Moon, a blend of all other planets with an ethereal, eternally shifting vibe layered thickly on top.
It's brilliant, and scary, and add layers and layers to your story.
And the characters and all so clearly defined, with interests and dreams and hopes. Reibeck hates space but is obsessed with the Nomai technology and history, so he can't help but explore. Feldspar and his sporadic attitude and wealth of courage allowing him to explore anywhere, as long as it's got beasties. And of course, the one, the only, the best o Outer Wilds character, Gabbro!
This chill as mother fucker got trapped in the same time loope as you, and is simply to chill and content to give a single fucking shit, while still helping where he can with advice and knowledge. It's awesome, and he also teaches you how to speed up your death with meditation, so that's... Cool.
And of fucking course I gotta talk about the music.
It's hypnotic. It permeates your body and makes you happy and sad and lonely and any other thing you can imagine, while still fitting the game, and any individual story moment. It's brilliant.
Like, listen to this shit.
And what about this???
And how about this, which is from the dlc, which i will write about in another review when I'm not exhausted!!
I gotta say, this isn't a review in the way I'd like it to be, cause I'm tired, but fuck me play this game it's amazing and the music and visuals and every piece is just... Oh my God.
I hope you enjoyed reading this delirious mish mash of words I wanted to say about a game I really love.
No joke, 10/10
Would crash into the sun again.
Thanks!!
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Hold On For All It's Worth
written for @steddiesongfics inspired by the song Empire Now by Hozier
wc: 1971 | rated: M | cw: mental health issues, thinking about death/wanting to be dead, depiction of injuries, blood | tags: post S4V2, Vecna is defeated, everybody lives, hurt/comfort, (implied) friends to lovers | ao3
Eddie should be used to it by now. Should be used to his life being a complete shit show. Always out to get him. Always finding ways to bring him down.
Life was never easy. Sure, it made a turn for the better when Wayne took him in, gave him a safe home and guidance, the kind of fatherly love he’d been missing before – Wayne made his life bearable, good. But even that wasn’t enough to rearrange his stars. Eddie, it seems, was always meant to be a fuck-up. An outsider. Struggling to find his place in this world.
He’s tired oft trying to get back up over and over again, knowing the next bump in the road bringing him down is waiting just around the corner.
Dustin keeps telling him everything will be fine. That he has to be patient, to wait for the wounds to fully heal. Says that the nightmares will eventually stop. That it’ll take some time but eventually, things will be good again.
And Eddie knows he’s not just saying that, that Dustin and his friends have been there multiple times. They’ve fought and lost and they’ve been hurt both physically and mentally and still, they keep going.
Keep taking a step at a time towards normalcy. Holding each other up, finding comfort in their shared experience because it helps to know that they’re not alone in the aftermath of an interdimensional war.
“You’re no alone, Eddie. We’re always here for you. You’re one of us.”
He knows they mean it. Knows that, once you’ve been part of their suicide squad (like, come on. What else can you call a group of teenagers recklessly going to literal war with creatures that should only exist in fantasy games and books, not real life!?) you’re stuck with them.
It’s something Eddie still has a hard time getting through to his thick head. He’d obviously thought (hoped) that the little shitheads would stick around after everything. But never in a million years had he thought he’d gain more than one new friend. Real ones, like Red and Erica and Robin and... Steve.
They are such a weird group of individuals. Thrown together by accident, really. But they work, somehow. And they are doing their best to convince him that he, too, is part of it now. Part of this strange little family.
And he tries, really, to show appreciation for everything they do - always asking how he is, always looking out for him. Always there when he’s feeling especially down, ready to throw it all out the window because he’s just too fucking tired to deal with anything.
Like today.
He woke up with the worst headache, didn’t get any sleep because whenever he closed his eyes, he was back in that place that nearly cost him his life. Back where those winged demons nearly ate him alive.
Sometimes, he wished they’d finished their job.
Sometimes, he wished Dustin hadn’t come back to sit at his side while he succumbed to the darkness. Because if he hadn’t, Steve would never have found them, wouldn’t have felt the need to carry him out of hell – giving in to his hero complex or whatever it is that turned Steve into this knight in shining armor, summoning inhuman strength to pick up Eddie’s lifeless body while his own body had been weakened by bat bites and sore muscles.
If Steve hadn’t brought him back, Owens’ people wouldn’t have been able to save him. To restart his heart after it had already given up the fight. It should’ve been impossible to bring him back from the dead after being out for too long, after losing too much blood with his organs spilling out of his mangled body. But they refused to give up on him.
Dustin apparently threw a proper fit, fist-swinging and feet-kicking despite his broken leg, when they tried to get him out of the hospital, away from Eddie’s side.
Steve hadn’t let go of him even after heaving his blood-drenched, ripped-apart body onto the hospital bed. Dustin told him they had to physically remove Steve’s tight gripping hand from Eddie’s before they could take him to the ER. Probably frozen in shock because Eddie can only imagine how fucked-up and horrible he must’ve looked.
Nancy and Robin threatened to reveal the government’s secrets to the world if they didn’t at least try. They had enough proof, enough to show for. All it needed was one phone call, one newspaper article to get the ball rolling – Owens knew that.
They’re the reason he’s still alive. The reason he’s forced to go to physical therapy to get his body moving again. The reason for Eddie to wake up drenched in cold sweat almost every night. They’re the reason he’s forced to keep fighting, no matter how tired of it he is.
No matter how much he hates everything about being alive when his legs won’t move and his scars itch and his head pounds and all he wants to do is cry. Cry and scream and ask God or whoever why he can’t just let him have a goddamn moment of peace?
There’s a knock on his door, followed by Wayne’s face poking in through the gap when he opens it slowly.
“Steve’s here. Can I send him in?”
Eddie wants to say no, doesn’t want Steve to see him like this – bound to the bed because his body refuses to work, with tears his eyes – but he knows it’s useless. Steve would just wait it out, come back in a few hours or maybe keep Wayne some company because the old man has apparently formed some kind of fatherly bond with him over the past weeks, to Eddie’s misfortune.
So, Eddie resigns, grumbles a displeased response before pulling his blanket over his head to hide.
He can hear Steve enter, can hear the door closing behind him and his quiet footsteps as he makes his way over to the bed. The mattress dips and Eddie can feel a hand coming to rest on his shoulder, can feel Steve’s warmth even through the blanket.
“Hey, Eddie. How are you?”
Eddie wants to laugh, wants to spit out words of frustration, wants to scream at Steve for putting him in this misery. For saving him, for not just letting him rot in hell so he could finally rest in peace. But none of that makes its way out of his mouth because when he opens it, all the pain and frustration and anger bubble up from somewhere deep down, transforming into a pitiful sob.
He cries and cries and cries. His body trembles and it hurts, everything hurts and he can’t stop wishing, begging for it all to stop, for it all to be over.
“I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I wish I was dead!”
A hand comes up to grab the edge of his blanket, pulling it slowly down to reveal his scarred face, his messy hair, his swollen eyes. Broken and tired and so sick of his own existence.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is delicate, soft, barely a whisper and Eddie hates himself for how concerned he sounds. Hates himself for putting this on Steve.
Steve shouldn’t have to deal with this mess.
“Can I- is it okay if I touch you?”
Another desperate sob makes its way out when Eddie nods weakly, feels selfish and greedy for some sort of comfort – whatever Steve is willing to give.
What Eddie doesn’t expect is that Steve shuffles to squeeze himself into the small, empty space beside him, lying there face to face with him, his body so close that – if it weren’t for the blanket – they’d be touching from nose to toe.
Steve wraps one arm around him, the motion bringing him even closer to the other man’s body.
“It’s okay to be frustrated” Steve whispers. “It’s okay to lose hope sometimes. I get it, Eddie. I know what it feels like to just want to give up. Believe me, I’ve been there more times than I can count.”
Eddie listens, still not able to stop the tears from falling but at least his breathing starts to slow while he focusses on Steve’s voice.
“I’ve wanted to give up so many times but you know what I learned?”
Eddie shakes his head, his nose brushing Steve’s skin where his face is buried between his neck and shoulder.
“I learned that, no matter how fucked-up things are, no matter how much you hate everything and everyone, if you’re really true to yourself, you’ll find there’s always, always something worth fighting for. You might not see it right now but it’s there. It’s there and it’s worth to get through the rough days because somewhere down the line, it’s waiting for you with open arms.”
Steve squeezes him, drawing him once again closer into his embrace.
“But what if I never find it?” Eddie asks through a staggered exhale, hot and damp against Steve’s neck.
“Maybe you just have to open your eyes and see it for what it’s worth.”
One hand finds his cheek, the one that’s unmarred, and when Steve leans away just enough to make space, he forces him to look up. To find Steve’s warm eyes looking down at him. Smiling, soft and loving in a way that makes Eddie’s heart stutter. Makes his stomach twist into knots when he realises just how close Steve is.
And then it hits him.
All the things he should be grateful for, all the things that are worth the struggle, worth the fight. All the things that he can hold onto on days like today, where the world feels like tumbling down.
The fact that Wayne didn’t have to hold a funeral for him, mourn over an empty coffin, an empty grave because his body had been left to decay in the Upside Down.
The fact that Dustin didn’t have to make true to his enforced promise to take over Eddie’s place at Hellfire, not yet at least.
The fact that Eddie got to see Gareth and Jeff and Zach again.
The fact that he’s breathing and walking and able to play his guitar – even if it’s still hard most days and it’ll take time to fully heal.
The fact that he’s got all these wonderful people in his life, people that care about him, that will always be there to catch him when he falls and help him back up on his feet if he can’t find the strength to do it himself.
People like Dustin and Robin and Steve.
Steve, who doesn’t care about Eddie staining his shirt with tears. Steve, who is holding him, one hand gently rubbing in soothing circles on his back. Steve, who had refused to leave him behind, who had clung to him even when he was technically dead. Steve, who keeps coming back, keeps showing up, keeps pestering Eddie with his annoying care and kindness.
Steve, who-
Who’s leaning in – tentatively, almost like he’s afraid of overstepping a line that was never there because ever since the moment Eddie had held that broken bottle against his throat, he knew there was an undeniable truth taking root in his heart – and kisses him.
Kisses him soft and slow and Eddie-
Eddie kisses him back. Sees, even through his closed eyes, that this right here is worth holding on for. Worth fighting for.
Worth being alive for.
No matter how many bumps are waiting for him on the road ahead – he’ll just take it one step at a time.
And if he stumbles or even falls, Steve will be there waiting with open arms, ready to catch him.
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same anon from the cryptid König ask. Person who started the 6’10 thing was his own voice actor (who is already a not so pleasant guy).
anyway. you want cryptid könig ideas? Oh bitch (affectionate) I have plenty.
1) most prolific Austrian folklore dude is of course Krampus, who is a specific character in his own right and holds connections to old pagan folk tradition. Mostly the deal here is about punishing people for being bad. Usually Krampus and the other adjacent folklore creatures of the same ilk (namely the Straggele) are depicted with big horns, shaggy hair and weird eyes. big weird goat dudes. this König would probably be a pretty old spirit. Would be fun if he was the reader’s ‘white whale’ of sorts, trying to get evidence of his existence, while he’s watching on with heart eyes.
2) of course, if we want to go more classic campy paranormal, there’s always classic weird fucked up ghost thing. sort of shadow monster creature style that has solidified into a dude who is definitely a regular guy don’t worry about the mist. The type of paranormal entity who’s creation is more complicated than a regular standard death. maybe his ghost-hunting afterlife is so he can figure out what the hell happened to him. maybe he just thinks it’s funny. don’t worry about the mist.
3) weird shit time. You’ve seen the könig with tentacles under his hood fanart trend I assume, and boy don’t I love a nice dose of eldritch with my monster men. weird shapeshifter sort of vibes. Dude in the woods who has maybe two many arms (it helps with his miniature carving, actually). He’s got most of the being human parts down well and can go to the grocery store. but sometimes he needs a second when sweet human offers to help patch a hole in one of his jumpers (because he might start growing feathers from joy). His eyes are a little too bright sometimes and his shadow a little too long but he’s just a regular guy!
rambling over. im a massive sucker for monsterous men.
Oh really??? Explains it. I mean the 6'10" will always have me laugh it is rlly ridiculous (especially when you see his character model near others)
I, embarrassingly, don't know how I forgot about Krampus. I have like a stuffed animal of him, I was JUST playing Wizard101 winter in summer event where he was there. I have greeting cards with him on it. I'm absolutely going to write that one for SURE in some way shape or form so thanks for the idea 👀
I'm also doing the second for sure. I was trying to figure out what kind of paranormal being he would be and I was thinking some type of shade or shadow creature. A being that lurks in the dark and can just be a glowing pair of eyes or something you see out of the corner of your eye before disappearing??? Sign me the hell UP
I love love love all of these ideas so so so much and I NEED to write them all eventually. They've been added into the queue of future things to do 👀 I can already picture it now
Whoever you are anon, I love your big beautiful brain and THANK YOU for the ideas. 💚💚💚💚 You're always welcome to submit any ideas you have for any monster men of the COD characters and I swear I'll write them
#call of duty#cod#cod modern warfare#call of duty x reader#konig x reader#konig mw2#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig x you#könig x reader#könig cod#könig call of duty#cod fanfic#cod x reader#reader insert#gender neutral reader#könig headcanons#call of duty x you
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dude i fucking love your series so much, every time you post i get so excited i love learning even more about the demons in smt rahhhhh. anyways can you do lilith? i love like loveeeee her new design in vengeance and think she looks so cool :3.
Lilith - Day 76
Race: Night/Qadištu
Arcana: Devil
Alignment: Neutral-Chaos
July 22nd, 2024
Abrahamic mythology has a lot of rather infamous figures who lay on the more... 'evil' side of things, so to speak. Of course, we have demons like none other than Lucifer himself, to the demons of the Ars Goetia, to even more morally gray figures like Mastema. However, a character that is among the most interesting (and confusing) in the several variations of Abrahamic myth has to be Adam's first wife, a woman who refused to be subservient to her husband- the powerful turned-demon, Lilith.
First off, I just wanna say that I ADORE her redesign as a Qadištu in Vengeance. As someone who just started playing Vengeance for the first time, I love all of the Qadištu almost equally, but Lilith's redesign hits incredibly hard for someone who was already a massive fan of her original design. Her joining this quartet of demonesses is an incredibly nice idea, and I'm, again, a major fan of her redesign. Even though all of the Qadištu originate from Abrahamic mythology, Lilith is a notably obvious example, though of course, this isn't the only design she's had throughout the series. She's had several redesigns, being one of the most recurring demons throughout the series- whether it be her full tits-out design in SMT I, to the most recurring design, her classic look originating from the Playstation port of SMT I, to even her incredibly alien design in SMT IV. Of course, like a lot of recurring demons, she's also one of the most iconic figures in Abrahamic mythology, so why don't we get into that?
Lilith's existence is somewhat contested in scholarly circles, being never actually mentioned in most translations of the Bible- in the original text, Lilith is used as a word for 'creature of the night,' literally translated to 'Night Monster,' though some translations also translate it as screech owl. Most knowledge of her as Adam's first wife appears to be based on extrapolations, as well as what can be seen almost as a plot hole in the Book of Genesis, as two differing creation myths seem to connect back to the idea that there was an 'Eve before Eve,' or 'first Eve.' In the story, while God was presenting animals to Adam, it's said that he may have presented another human to him due to contradictory accounts of the biblical text. This seems to be where Lilith comes into the Bible, being commonly believed to be a woman who refused to submit to Adam, and as such, left the Garden of Eden after failing to satisfy Adam and believing herself to be equal to him. This led to Eve coming into being, a subservient being to Adam. Don't look at me, sexism was just... a thing back in the day.
After her escape, Lilith bore several children, though she was threatened by an angel that they would kill those children. After said children were, well, slaughtered, she grew furious and began to birth demon children known as Lilim... who probably deserve their own spotlight somewhere down the line. It turns out that the demons who began to replace her children were powerful enough to go toe-to-toe with the angels, and joined the demonic ranks somewhere down the line... I think. As revenge on top of this, Lilith also began to ruthlessly target children, apparently being responsible for stillbirths, and if one wasn't to circumcise their child if they were born a boy, she would invoke her wrath unto them as well. How? I dunno! But I guess that's why people are circumcised. How do these always eventually come back to screwing with the genitals? Whatever.
However, where Lilith herself came from is actually an ancient Sumerian text, where she's depicted as a succubus and demoness who first appears in the text 'Gilgamesh and the Huluppu Tree.' In the text, she appears as a demon who builds a house in the domain of a goddess of eroticism, right under the titular Huluppu tree. Gilgamesh, a grand hero depicted in many Abrahamic texts, appears and strikes down the house and Lilith herself for sullying the garden. This story paints her as a sort-of symbol of feminine rebellion, something which would be convenient and easy to extrapolate into being Adam's first wife. Given the connections between Sumer and most Abrahamic religions, it was easy to see the purported first wife of Adam before Eve being, well, Lilith! Recently, the few sources we have on Lilith, however, have been heavily disputed, but as one of the only origins I can work off of, I have to take what I can get.
Her scant references as 'Lilit' in the original Hebrew bible seem to have been what gave her life in the extrapolations, as even though she was referred to exactly once, her role in Sumerian mythology seemed to make a perfect connection to make her into Adam's first wife. Another source we can work off of for Lilith, past the Mesopotamian text, however, is that of an indisputable reference to her in none other than the Dead Sea Scrolls, being as follows.
And I, the Instructor, proclaim His glorious splendour so as to frighten and to te[rrify] all the spirits of the destroying angels, spirits of the bastards, demons, Lilith, howlers, and [desert dwellers] ... and those which fall upon men without warning to lead them astray from a spirit of understanding and to make their heart and their ... desolate during the present dominion of wickedness and predetermined time of humiliations for the sons of lig[ht], by the guilt of the ages of [those] smitten by iniquity – not for eternal destruction, [bu]t for an era of humiliation for transgression.
This does seem to show that Lilith is a part of Abrahamic mythology, though some sources, such as several Rabbi, claim her not to be. It's a very complicated topic overall, as almost everything around Lilith tends to be- her murky stories seem to be based primarily off of educated guesses, unfortunately. However, with her being mentioned in one of the oldest surviving sources for Biblical study, she does appear to be, well, around, so to speak. While still vague and obscure, she's definitely a force that appears to exist.
Now, with all of that out of the way, her depictions in SMT are incredibly varied, but I'd like to specifically point to her in SMT IV, being a tempter who brings Walter to her side. A lot more can be said of her depictions, but this DDS is growing rather long, so I'll have to cut it short. However, given her calling to Flynn and Walter to partake in the apple of knowledge, I love the allusion she gives to her role as Adam's first wife, and perhaps even being the tempter of Adam himself to eat the apple.
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