#soldier is Just power. nothing needed to be changed

[drawingcrows]

csm x tf2 au, ft some Boys

[disco-troy]

I don't feel like people have a nuanced enough view of Kory what she thinks about killing. She's not blindly wanting to murder criminals, nor is she delighted by the actions of murder. She sees murder as a necessity because of her upbringing in the middle of an existential war, and also as a way to regain autonomy on her life. Autonomy is a key theme in many of the people Kory chooses to kill.

The idea of autonomy over the body and her life is extremely important to Kory. This makes sense, Kory spends six years in slavery, her life not her own, and grew up knowing her planet could lose its own autonomy and freedom at any time.

When she was a slave, the few times that she was able to control her life in those times. Her first kill was her kill of what would become her last master, starting the chain of domino that would result in her freedom.

Note her words: "His very touch sickened me". It wasn't just about her imprisonment or her anger, but about her body, her autonomy. She couldn't handle being touched like that anymore, and killed knowing that it would solve nothing, knowing that it would lead to more punishment for her later down the line.

Her next kill allowed her to escape, securing her freedom and her own autonomy.

To escape she must pretend Kory has completely given in to her captors. That she is fine, even happy with the Gordonian touching her. But by doing this she is bringing him close, giving him the illusion of control over herself to secure her own freedom.

She is pretending to be a slave, while affirming to herself that she is still a soldier.

In this way we can see a dichotomy that has ruled Kory's life until now. On one side, you have succumbing to subjugation, which involved a loss of bodily autonomy. On the other side you had her claiming her freedom and her autonomy which comes with the need to kill or be destroyed.

In addition to this, you need to think of the context of Kory's upbringing. Of course Kory is used to killing her enemies. She grew up in a climate of fear in which there was a real possibility of total annihilation. Millions of her people died in the war that eventually lead her to being sold as a slave.

She grew up during a society that could have been destroyed in war, where everyday killing was not a questions but an existential threat. Killing and war was literally the only way for her people to conserve their autonomy.

This disconnect between Dick/Donna and Kory is not because Kory is an alien, but because the Titans are living in a world where they are superheroes and Kory is living in a world where she is a solider. Would a Kory that didn't kill even been able to come out alive from war? From her enslavement? To her its about her autonomy and her independence, she doesn't have the luxury of morals, of thought, of choice.

Later we see Kory not change, but shift. She realizes that killing will never be easier for her again.

This makes sense! her interpretation of killing has changed a lot because she's been exposed to a new environment. On earth she is not facing a literal war, she has real power, she has backup, she doesn't have to fight every second for her freedom and autonomy.

I think this is demonstrated in an incredibly narrative compelling way in Titans (1999) when Kory kills to give another character autonomy over her own body; Adaline Kane. Adaline is about to die, but her blood can still be harvested for Vandal Savage's experiments. She begs for death, instead of living that fate.

Kory gives it to her.

(much like Slade gave Joey in Titans Hunt but this post only has the space for one parallel right now)

When it comes to protecting the greater good, and especially when it comes to bodily autonomy Kory is not only willing to kill, but sees it as her duty.

She's never stopped being a soldier, she's never stopped being the Tamaranian who was forced to kill and see her people die to preserve her home, but more than that, she never stopped being the little girl for whom killing was her only way of reclaiming her autonomy.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I don't know if you do a/b/overses/omegaverses but Konig in omegaverse sounds really interesting

Konig is a defenition of an alpha. Brooding, menacing presence - he had mastered the art of dissociating on the person's nose so he could seem cool and intimidating, and he is that one annoying fucking alpha who never takes scent blockers and is always ready to make his presence known to all lesser alphas and omegas around him. It's only natural that he is a colonel - a person of his stature can't pass for a normal soldier, can't be lumped with betas and all the other, weaker alphas. He just waits for god to finally take away the social anxiety, and then he would be rolling in omegas. Certainly. For sure. Because being a prime alpha is a great thing on the battlefield - he intimidates enemies and inspires his comrades; his scent makes everyone naturally submit to him and follow his orders. No one dares to challenge him - and if someone is dumb enough, he has enough power to shut them up. There is a tiiiny problem though.

He scares omegas shitless. Like, you're a pretty omega girl who works in a coffee shop near the military base. You've convinced yourself you're pretty tough for an omega, seeing alphas all day and usually serving tired military boys who treat you like you're the first girl they saw in weeks. Which, kind of, you are - but still, you don't feel nearly scared in their presence. They are like rowdy puppies but nothing too scary. And then you see Konig. Fucking menace, big and terrifying - this is the first time you thought to press a panic button to alert the security, even though you kind of know that it would be useless. Konig stares at you, an adorable omega in your pretty uniform apron, with such a brave expression, and he can't help but stare - the uniform is kind of ugly, hides your curves, but he still stares like a kid in the candy shop. He knows his hormones are probably making a mess of your brain, tearing you between fear and arousal, but he simply can't help himself - he needs you to acknowledge him. Konig is fucking awful to be around - he grabs your hand when you give him his drink, making a mistake to give it to him directly instead of placing it on the corner and running away. He holds your hand like it's the most delicate thing in the world, and you just fucking know that the pheromones are changing to a much more aroused ones - it almost makes you shiver, makes you tremble with a mix of fear and...well, you wish it was still fear, and not that throbbing sensation settling deep in your guts. God, you fucking hate being an omega in a world filled with beefy and scary alphas. Konig makes sure you regret it properly, of course.

[hellsitedotcom]

### Genshin Men & How They Kiss ###

Featuring Dainsleif, Il Dottore, Il Capitano, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Al-Haitham.

warnings: shouldn't be anything too spicy/nsfw. Dottore bites people, do with that what you want.

english isn't my native language!

this is going to flop so bad, but I'm bored; bone app the teeth.

DAINSLEIF

He is someone who - in my humble opinion - kisses you with such...devotion, such unwavering and suffocating devotion that it leaves you breathless and stunned even after the 100th kiss.

Dain has his way with words, we all know that, and as mesmerizing as his compliments and confessions can be, so are his kisses; they are like a beautiful, life-changing poem that leaves you aching for more.

He's not too frequent of a kisser, though - I want to think he's somewhat dramatic with his timing for kisses; before depatures, big battles, when you're apart from each other for longer times & greater distances.

Definitely one for goodnight kisses; he's such a gentle lover, I'd say. There's just something about him that makes it hard for me to see him as an aggressive, obsessive, or extremely passionate/intense lover (I hope you know what I mean).

You know those Princess x Knight stories? Where they finally have that first kiss, and it's described like something straight out of a fairytale? That's Dainsleif, basically. Also, definitely someone who kisses your hand/palm.

IL DOTTORE

Oh, he's a freak, alright. My ''aroace Dottore'' headcanons aside, he's...not your ''typical'' guy, I'd say. Well, he's not a romantic, I think we can all agree on that.

Dottore's kisses are most definitely possessive - they aren't there to show love or anything, but to claim - to ''mark his territory'', sorta.

I think he'd see ''kissing'' as an outlet of sorts; I don't necessarily see the ''real'' Dottore as someone who gets frustrated and lets it out on his lover, nor would he be someone to kiss his lover unprovoked, I think. He doesn't necessarily need it.

If we were to talk about a not-so-sociopathic Dottore (alias, a normal human), he wouldn't necessarily strike me as someone who thinks about kissing you much either. He gives me a rather uninterested vibe in that regard; he probably shows his love/devotion in different ways.

Maybe I'm just really biased because of my other headcanon; he just doesn't care about kisses in a romantic sense, that's it. He'll bite you, he'll devour you, but there's nothing more behind it but exerting power...or maybe he just wants to silence you, because your provocations/teasing is getting on his last nerve.

His kisses (I honestly just see him as a biter) are bruising, and the way he holds onto you during that time leaves bruises, too. And, again, not many of these actions stem from love, but possessiveness or to ''make a statement''.

IL CAPITANO

Initially thought was ''Does he even know what a kiss is'', but let's brush past that...anyway, why can I see him somewhere inbetween the likes of Dain & Dottore? lol

He's not much of a kisser, either. Which, uh, soldier and all, I'd say, but then, he is still capable of care and devotion in a way that others never could.

He's devoted in his kisses, and there's a pledge of loyalty behind each kiss, only solidified by their rarity. He swears fealty to you in that way - a firm, classy kiss on the lips; kissing the back of your hand while kneeling in front of you; a lasting kiss on your forehead before he departs.

Again, those kisses are rare and kept secret from the outside, but they exist and they hold such an incredible weight to themselves; they are his greatest show of vulnerability and weakness. Though, he does not view having a lover as a weakness.

As mentioned further above: His kisses are firm, they are lasting. He doesn't just give you quick pecks in passing, no. Each kiss takes its time, and each kiss is there to repeat the message the first one gave ''I swear fealty to you''. They aren't overly passionate, messy, or anything like that.

Definitely not one for many words, and their all pretty cordial and like some devoted rule-abiding knight would talk, lol. Quality Time and Acts of Service are more of his strongsuit.

NEUVILLETTE

I'm a bit torn here, though he certainly is a gentle kisser. On one hand, I want to say it is a ''lack of experience'' in that prospect, that could make him more hesitant and careful. On the other hand, I just feel like regardless of his experience level, he'd be a gentle lover.

He's more frequent in his kisses - he does not mind showing you love, regardless of where you are, though during important meetings (or trials) you'll never find him kissing you; only afterwards, when you've returned to the privacy of his office, he'll drop that mask again.

He'll pour all his emotions into his kisses - including those tragic, painful emotions after certain trials. Yet, his kisses are never hungry or aggressive. They'll still always keep their lightness.

Most of the time, you'll find him kissing your lips or your cheeks. In your sleep, he'll press a kiss to your forehead, and in public he'll often press a kiss to the palm of your hand.

His kisses are the kind to make you giggle, or smile all giddy. They are exciting, in a way. Though rather light and ''brief'', they leave you at a loss every time; like a beautiful dream. Paired with that soft smile of his? They'll have you melting right then and there.

WRIOTHESLEY

I just let out the most concerning ''hehehehe''; anyway, oh boy, I wanna be indulgent here, but I'll try to be as ''realistic'' as possible.

He's...a wildcard, of sorts. Wriothesley can be extremely passionate & hungry when it comes to his lover, but he can also be more classy & gentle about it, depending on different factors.

Now, focus on the more intense parts of Wriothesley. For anyone needing a visual/example; I'm sure there's fics out there where the reader is sparring with Wriothesley. And that's where I get the more intense version of him from.

He's the kind to pin you against a wall and devour your lips, tongue eventually down your throat as he got you at his mercy. He's not holding back with those kisses - he's hungry; hungry for all of you. His kisses aren't necessarily bruising, but they are suffocating; you'll be struggling for air when he is like this.

You'll find him his filled with desire only in private - and often enough there's something needed to trigger this...almost primal?...version of him; yes, this means he'll leave marks, but he'd never intentionally hurt you to get off.

On other occasions, he's more gentle, though that gentleness can sometimes stem from an absence of mind, too. Fleeting kisses on the cheek, barely sparing you a glance as he's too busy with work. His ''apology'' kisses are also the gentle, yet firmer kind. And you'll get them quite frequently, given...everything.

In conclusion, he's definitely capable of being both extremely hungry/intense and being gentle; it really depends on preference, I suppose, but I can absolutely see him being a perfect balance.

AL-HAITHAM

Definitely more on the calmer side; not necessarily ''gentle'' in the way I have described before, but he's not an aggressive/hungry kisser, unless for certain occasions, maybe.

He's so introverted in his voicelines, he's probably the same with a lover; barely any PDA in public, just because he's not a fan of it (you'll maybe get a peck on the cheek or a kiss on the forehead, but just fleeting).

His kisses are...somewhat distant, quite often. He'll kiss you on the lips, but you'll feel like he's not really present while kissing you. He'll also take your hand and kiss it absently whenever you sit beside him while he's studying.

Other times, he's nearly obsessed with kissing you; he'll be kissing you firmly, one kiss lasting minutes before being interrupted by shorter and lighter kisses, and then he'll go back to a firm, passionate kiss. He'll often have you on his lap during those.

Slow, sensual make out sessions. That's what I was looking for, I think. Lots of cuddling, holding you close, tracing his lips over your skin. That's how I see him sometimes.

Can I actually see him be more intense in his kisses? Maybe, but it takes a lot. A lot of pent up frustration, Kaveh getting on his last nerve, some issues with the Akademiya, etc.; and perhaps, if you provoke him on that day, you'll see a more hungry side...Or maybe he just did it to satisfy you for a while, who knows?

Makes me believe that Al-Haitham does not mind being more dominant, more intense, more hungry during make out sessions - he can if it means you'll be happy about it, but he doesn't prefer it, tbh.

[Genshin Women & How They Kiss]

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

Series Masterlist is here.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, forced abortion, implied pregnancy, obsession, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, established relationship, manipulation

Word Count: 4842

A/N: English is not my first language.

This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊

You were alone in the coach watching TV when you heard the door open. You instantly got up and stared at Ben when your ruminations started to take over. He shot you a little smile that made your heart race. 

Ben sent you a meaningful look, and you followed him to his room just as Butcher and the others were getting into a fight.

His broad, powerful arms wrapped snugly around your entire body as he left his shield behind and gave you an instant hug. It was unclear who rushed to get into the arms of the other one first. You planted a gentle kiss on his neck, your fingers trailing behind the ends of his messy hair. 

With his gloved fingertips gently brushing your cheek, he whispered, “I missed you so fucking much.”

Between his hard kisses, you laughed and said, “It's only been two days. But I missed you too.”

After giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead, he began to remove his suit and smirked at you, saying, “Yeah, I'd miss me too. So, what did you do when I was away?”

“Actually, nothing. Kimiko and I just played some video gaming all day. I was losing all the time.” You laughed, “Well, I wouldn't want to win against a supe anyway.”

“How dare she?” he asked, smirking, as you stood up and gave him a hard-back hug. You then planted a strong kiss on his bare back and rested your cheek against it. 

“You act like you didn't miss me as much as I missed you, but you can't just keep your hands away from me, right?” Ben laughed, turned around, and gave you a tight squeeze while firmly holding your ass and giving you a passionate kiss. 

Your hands on his beard went into his hair and pulled, trying to stop him, as he pressed his shaft to your body a little too roughly and eagerly. You were moaning softly into his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, don't you even tell me-.”

“I'm sore, quite a lot,” you said as soon as you smiled into his mouth. 

“I hate this word. It's been two days already,” he grumbled while keeping touch your body and applying a light pressure, showing his need for you. 

Your fingertips trailed seductively across his tense chest to make him go a little bit wild. “Well, you shouldn't have fucked me all day until I couldn't move just because you would be staying away for only two days,” you said with a giggle. 

He whispered, “You're enjoying this, aren't you?” and planted long kisses on your neck, seemingly trying to convince you change your idea. 

“Of course not,” you muttered as you watched adjusting himself in his sweatpants while maintaining eye contact and then abruptly letting you go with a grunt after giving your ass a little slap. 

“I'll...give you something,” he said, as if he had suddenly remembered a certain thing. “I actually bought you something.” 

With an excited question, “What is it?” You tried to see what was hidden in his hands as he gave you an affectionate little smile. 

“You know those cocksucker CIA bitches pay me well nowadays, as they should, and I'm aware of the fact the fact that I didn't buy you a gift at all, though we have been together for almost a year,” he said. He threw the box aside, showed you a nice ring, and took your hand gently into his, placing it before you could even react. “Do you like it?”

You eventually said, “It's so beautiful,” as you gazed in awe at the ring on your finger. “Ben, this is the most beautiful gift I have ever received. Thank you.” 

Ben took a breath of relief and stilled his hand around your belly. When he was watching, you were looking admiringly at the ring. A proud smile appeared on his face. “You know, once I'm done with Butcher, his crew, and Homelander tomorrow, everything will be different, right?”

When he spoke of the following day, the atmosphere grew more dense. Since he was growing harder to handle every day, you had been under a lot of stress for the past few weeks, but you tried not to show it to him in order to keep him from becoming more concerned. 

You nodded to him and said, “I know.” 

“Hey, it's going to be easy, and I'll be finished with all of them. Like we planned earlier, we'll begin a new life somewhere else. Just you and me.”

Ben's hands lingered around your neck and bare shoulders, giving you the most genuine smile. 

To break the tense air, you teased, “Are you sure you want to share a life with me, away from the company?” as he gently pulled you up and laid you down on the bed in between your small laughs. 

“I shouldn't think about that for the second time,” he muttered, smirking at you as he noticed your face falling. 

You asked him, “What would happen if you thought about it for a second time, though?” and gently hit him, taking care not to injure yourself. 

“Well, I guess you'll never know, so I better not think about it at all,” Ben said, his smile widening as he saw your reaction to it. 

“Asshole,” you gave him a chest slap. 

He grumbled, “I just gave you a ring, and your ungrateful mouth has already started to bite me,” taking advantage of your weak spot to begin tickling you. 

You were so oversensitive that you cried while laughing and shouted in between when he kept tickling you mercilessly. 

“Try calling me names like that once more. Do you want to speak now? Did your tongue get caught by a cat?” As he was on top of you and you were attempting to shove his hands away as if you could ever manage it, he chuckled. 

You choked out, “Bear Dick. Idiot,” and he gave you even more tickling. “All right, please forgive me. I promise not to speak such vile words to you again, sir, Soldier Boy.”

He ended his game with you and said, “Oh, yeah?” He was obviously amused that you addressed him by his supe name. “Are you going to be a good girl?” 

You spoke softly, “I will,” in between gasps. “Aren't I always?” 

Ben pushed himself between your thighs and said, “I don't know; I need to be reminded,” making you feel his hardness. “I might have a weak memory.”

Although you both understood that you couldn't give him everything he desired at this time, that didn't mean you were unable to fulfill his needs. 

As you put your palm over his cock through his sweatpants and muttered, “It's clear,” It was insane that he hadn't softened at all. “I guess I might have to show you how good I am at this point.”

He groaned softly and watched as he removed his huge cock from his pants, placing his hands on both sides of your head. Considering how little your hand was in comparison to his hardness, it made you feel even more horny. 

You made him go a little bit crazy by asking him, in an innocent tone, “What do you need me to do?” Even though you knew you were going too far because you knew he was dying to get inside, you couldn't help but torture him. 

Your thumb pushed the sensitive tip of his redened cock before he could say anything, causing him to growl loudly and curse. “You like it, don't you? You like driving me insane by refusing to let me fuck your cunt.”

Whispering, “Maybe,” you gathered the pre-cum and placed it on your lips while staring directly into his eyes. 

“Fuck that,” he grumbled, quickly picking up your nightgown and ripping off your underwear before tossing it onto the bed. Perhaps you were pushing your luck a little too hard. 

“Ben, I really want it too, but I'm sore,” you muttered, your hands coming to a stop on his rough flesh. 

With a moan, he murmured, “Calm down; unfortunetely I won't fuck you,” and spread your legs. You both groaned as you felt his cock on your pussy. “But it doesn't mean that I can't enjoy feeling you.”

“Use both hands,” he said, and you promptly followed his instructions. When he took over, his body temperature was really high. “Tighter.” 

“Are you sure?” you questioned in a doubtful tone. “I don't want to hurt you.” 

“You think you can hurt me, baby?” he said, placing a possessive fingertips on your chin as the corner of his lips curled. “Now, use both hands to hold it tightly as much as you can.”

His moan was satisfied when you hesitantly followed his instructions, and his strong grasp on your chin caused your heart to speed up. He began to move his hips and slide into your hands between his groans, fucking into them since your palms were slippery with his pre-cum. 

The sound of his heavy balls hitting your clit filled the bedroom, making your cheeks flush. 

Ben moaned, “Come on, baby, do it tighter,” and in an effort to maintain control, he placed both of his hands firmly on both sides of your belly on the sheets. You were getting hornier seeing him try to be gentle with you when all he wanted to do was be rough. You sensed that your pussy was already wet. 

You were doing everything in your power to hold him as tightly as possible in compliance with his orders, but his power was unmatched and was quickly fucking into your hands, making it more difficult for you to grip his cock. 

He immediately groaned in protest when you withdrew one of your hands, but he waited for you to make another move. You both gasped as you began to give him a hard, forceful pump. His veins were clearly apparent, and you could tell he was getting close because he felt considerably heavier. 

He gently moved your hand away with hardness before you could ask him anything. Ben pressed himself on your pussy, moving himself up and down with forceful movements, both fisted hands on both sides of the sheet as he stroked his cock against your wetness. 

Your walls clenched, and you lifted your hips to match his motions. When he began kissing you, you tried to stop your moaning in his mouth by placing your hands on his biceps and holding on tightly.

Ben watched you with an intense glare as your walls began to tighten around nothingness and you started shaking from your climax.

He mumbled, “Yeah, just like that, baby,” as you continued to scream and orgasm.

As soon as your orgasmic effects subsided, Ben grabbed your torn underwear from the bed and began to spill himself over it in front of your startled eyes. Between his grunts, you kept your hands on his flexing biceps as he continued to spill his thick ropes on your torn underwear.

He gasped and beat his cock a little harder to totally spill himself. “I'll come inside you next time,” he said. 

You teased him, “You better,” as your fingers worked over his tense muscles. 

“You little tease,” he said as he finished throwing your ripped underwear on the ground and planting a forceful kiss on your forehead and neck. 

You yawned, and Ben embraced you in his warm arms and adjusted your nightie very gently, right after he'd shoved his dick back into his sweatpants. 

“You smell exceptionally nice these days,” he said, continuing to smell your neck and hair. 

“So you're telling me I smell bad normally?” 

“Of course, that wasn't what I meant, my dear. You're also a little more sensitive than normal, huh? And pretty  dizzy.” To calm you down, Ben planted a kiss on the corners of your mouth. 

You silently said, “Maybe it's because you're touching my nerves, old man,” and buried your head in his heated chest. You must have felt exhausted in such a short period of time due to the powerful orgasm. 

“Behave. You were so docile and obedient moments ago.” You gasped in surprise as Ben gave you a light slap on your bare ass and said, “Now your claws are back, I see.”

You moaned out, “Let me sleep,” resting one leg on his. 

He laughed as he saw you practically nod off in a matter of seconds. 

Ben immediately whispered, “I love you,” causing your lips to curl with happiness and your heart to melt. He was undoubtedly aware of how these three words would affect you. 

“I know, and I love you.”

You felt Ben's lips curve on your hair as his arms tightened around your entire body. 

You gave Ben a small smile, hoping that this day would end as soon as possible, while Butcher, Ben, and the others were talking about what to do in Vought Tower when they encountered Homelander.

“Now, you're all going inside, behind this door, and waiting for us, ladies.”

“What are you doing?” Annie answered immediately, and Hughie gave her support against Butcher and Maeve.

“We don't need any more issues than necessary. It's Vought Tower that we're going to go to, not some ordinary place. Now, get inside, dear one.”

Hughie, Frenchie, and Annie began to argue with Butcher, telling him they wouldn't divulge what they were commanded, but Ben threatened them all by simply touching his gun, so they all gave in.

Just as you were taking a step back, Ben slapped your ass and urged you gently into the vast space with a mischievous smirk on his face.

“You get inside, especially,” Ben muttered, disregarding all of your complaints. “Be a good girl.”

Ben gave you a wink before they closed the door. You wished you could have assisted him there; you wanted to be with him.

Annie and Kimiko finally succeeded in breaking through the thick, locked door after a great deal of effort.

You immediately said, “I'll come with you too,” in a serious manner. Before anyone else rejected you, you stated, “I'm not the only regular human here. As a member of the team, I will be coming.”

You sighed with relief as Frenchie and MM finally nodded at you after exchanging an odd look.

Thanks to Annie, you were able to enter Vought Tower despite its difficulty. Given how easily Ben was able to smell you, you intended to keep an eye on the issue from a distance so as not to burden or distract him. On the other hand, your eyes grew wide as you noticed Ben and Butcher fighting. Actually, Butcher was the one who attacked him nonstop. Annie looked on in disbelief as Frenchie and MM hurriedly fled the area with some things in their hands.

You cried out, “Butcher!” with fury as soon as you witnessed Butcher unleash his super lasering powers on Ben. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“And what the hell are you doing here?” Ben shoved Butcher to the ground, gave him a disgusted look, and roared back. “Get the fuck out of here.”

His shield was shattered.

When you went to Annie and Kimiko to tell them to take action and find a solution to this situation, they both attacked Ben as well, backing Butcher. Your heart was racing behind your chest as Butcher and Ben continued to fight and hit each other.

When her eyes began to shine with maximum intensity, you cried as loudly as you could, “Annie, stop this madness,” but no one was paying attention. You could have found and utilized one right now if you hadn't injected yourself with enough Temp-V.

Ben violently grabbed Kimiko by the neck and threw her. Before you even knew what was going on and attempted to break up Butcher and Ben's intense fight, Butcher threw you against the closest table with such force that your head was hurting so badly that you were unable to find the strength to get back up.

It felt like the back of your head was bleeding, as was your lower stomach. You continued to mumble Ben's name until you lost consciousness. You were quite concerned for Ben when you last saw them trying to put gas on his face in an attempt to get him to fall back asleep. He was betrayed by his team another time, and you couldn't even stop it.

It was unfair and cruel because, if you could only get it through today, you and Ben would have too many dreams come true.

Ben watched you lose consciousness as a result of Butcher throwing you away, acting as though it didn't matter that you were a frail human and that you would die there. His chest began to glow—it was actually burning—at that moment. He was completely out of control just by looking at you, even though you were still breathing.

He knew that you needed him, so he wanted to stop himself. If he had blown up right now, he wouldn't have cared if he killed everyone in his immediate vicinity, but he could have killed you in less than a second as well. Yet Ben's reasonable rage towards Butcher and everyone else persisted. He began to lose consciousness, but thankfully, Queen Maeve grabbed him and leaped out of the window before he exploded. You would be alright; at least your heartbeats were still strong.

As the gas put Soldier Boy to sleep once more, Butcher and the others inhaled deeply as they observed his hauntingly dozing body on the bed, prepared for his return to Russia. When Butcher first spoke with the CIA about it a year ago, it was already part of the plan. However, because Homelander was still alive and they all risked everything for nothing, Butcher just didn't know it would be carried out in this way, and the whole operation was a complete failure.

Kimiko began speaking hurriedly in sign language, concerned for you, as she carefully picked up your unconscious body and laid it on the table.

Frenchie exclaimed, “Kimiko is right. We have to take her to the hospital. She is bleeding from the head and everywhere.”

“Alright, you're right. Since I'm the one who did the job, I'll take care of this, right?” Butcher muttered in a rough tone. “Frenchie and Kimiko, follow me. It looks like cleaning up this mess is going to take some time. Right now, we can't go to the hospital.”

Butcher had contacted a long-time medical acquaintance of his who handled sensitive cases with undercover agents in order to maintain confidentiality when necessary. He knew two doctors to solve this mess, fortunately. Once they had a conversation and you had given them the information they required, they put you in the cold bed, and Kimiko did her best to wipe the blood off your head.

One of the doctors stated after an hour, “She seems fine, but I can't guarantee that her brain is functioning properly.”

“What the heck do you mean?” With a glance at your sleeping body, Butcher asked.

“Her brain injury appears to be rather severe. Memory loss is quite likely. Of course, we can't be certain of anything. She is, nevertheless, physically alright.”

“Well, as long as she's alive, it wouldn't be all that horrible.” Butcher smirked and put his hands in his pockets with a smug expression on his face. Kimiko gave him a hideous look and was clearly upset with him. “I'm sure there are many things she wants to forget anyway,” Butcher said.

“But it's going to be difficult for her to accept her pregnancy at this point,” the doctor said, looking at him perplexed.

“The fuck?” Butcher cried out, hands on his hips, gaze locked on your abdomen as he studied your unconscious body. “Are you fucking with me? Are you positive, for sure?”

“Mon Dieu,” the Frenchie muttered. “That's not good.”

The doctor added, “Of course we are sure,” as he held the files in his hands.

“However, she is still extremely early in her pregnancy. Perhaps not even she knows it herself.”

The doctor continued, even before Butcher reacted. “There's more. It does not appear to be a typical pregnancy.”

“For god’s sake, give me some slack. What do you mean at this point?” Butcher yelled out.

“I'm trying to say that it appears to be a fully developed fetus developing inside her. The fetus appears to be in excellent health based on what I can tell from her results. It's definitely a supe baby.”

Kimiko and Frenchie exchanged a look, and her eyes grew wide. For a minute, silence engulfed the room, and none of them could think of anything to say.

Butcher inhaled deeply and narrowed his gaze as he studied your figure, his mind racing with ideas. “So you're telling me she's pregnant with a supe baby, right?”

The doctor said, “That's exactly what I'm telling you. Who's the father, by the way?”

The doctor stared at Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko curiously while they looked at each other, troubled. They weren't entirely certain about the nature of your relationship with Soldier Boy, but they were aware that you two had a sexual interaction. They were aware that you only ever saw him and that you didn't know other super heroes than Soldier Boy.

“It's classified.” Butcher immediately cut it off. “All right, prepare her for the abortion. She must get rid of this thing right away to prevent the situation from getting out of hand.”

“What?” Frenchie yelled; he was horrified by Butcher's callousness and his discussion of killing your unborn child as if it were no big deal.

With a furious look on her face, Kimiko grabbed Butcher by the chest and began yelling in sign language.

“Kimiko is exactly right. You have no business deciding what to do with her body. It's between her and him. Fuck off, Butcher. You're being too much.”

“Are you two fucking out of minds?” Butcher screamed, his nerves already raw from what had transpired. “Obviously, I wouldn't make this choice if she was carrying a typical fetus rather than the most dangerous one. Are you even mindful of what happened to my Becca?”

Butcher had never considered talking about Becca and had disliked discussing his past, but with Kimiko and Frenchie staring at him with disapproval, he realized that he had to. He had to try, even though he knew they would never be able to understand fully.

“She was treated by the most skilled physicians in Vought when she became pregnant by—you know who. Do you know what happened? The monster that was growing inside her womb destroyed every organ and tore her stomach apart when her water broke in an attempt to go out. There, she fucking nearly died in her bloody bed. Almost.” Butcher spat forth his hatred, emphasizing every word in order to make clear the gravity of the situation. “Y/N will never survive this. She also took a great amount of Tempt-V in the past few months. Her body is already too fragile.”

“Don't give me that kind of look. I'm not enjoying this, but someone needs to make important decisions for the better,” Butcher angrily remarked to Kimiko, who remained expressionless and continued to gaze at him with hatred, as though he were her biggest enemy. “It appears that she will likely suffer from memory loss without realizing it. Since we already took care of the matter there, she can start fresh. That man will never enter her life again after all, okay?”

“No matter what,” Frenchie inhaled deeply. He didn't like what was happening and was concerned by it. “She'll be living a lie. This is wrong.”

Butcher interrupted him as he was getting close to your sleeping body on the white bed, saying, “Shut the fuck up. What she is unaware of is not going to hurt her. Here is where we are going to solve this situation. After all, we are in the business of killing supes. Stop complicating things and becoming overly sensitive.”

“Screw you.” Frenchie retreated a step. “You're discussing the murder of a baby. Whether or not it's a supe doesn't matter. I refuse to participate in this.”

“Are you truly aware of what will happen to her if she gives birth? First of all, she is not going to survive and will die in childbirth. Second, Vought will learn of the baby's existence and raise it to become their new puppet, capable of murdering others for amusement. Numerous people will be harmed by it. We cannot handle one more offspring of a bastard. Get your ass act straight and quit being so fucking emotional because she won't even know this.”

If Butcher hadn't been on Temp-V, Kimiko's hands could have crushed his chest from giving him such a severe shove by the chest. She kept the same expression on her face and kept on utilizing sign language.

“From now on, nothing can stop me, so you two go fuck out of here. She'll be alright when this nightmare is over. We are all fortunate to have discovered this crap earlier than she did, and her mental health will benefit even more from the assistance with her memory loss.”

“Come on Kimiko, let's go,” Frenchie mumbled while examining your body with sympathy. He understood that nothing would work out the way Butcher planned since it was now beyond disaster. This was not good.

Kimiko tried to talk to Frenchie, but he said, “It's not our job. This is bigger than us, Kimiko. Let's just get the fuck out of there.”

She had an expression of despair on her face, and despite her repeated attempts to speak with Frenchie, he begged her to get out of the chilly, desolate room as soon as possible. They unwillingly exited, leaving you in the room alone with three monsters.

A doctor said, “Butcher, we have known each other for years, and I know you are not a bad guy, but we cannot just kill her baby without her permission.”

Butcher inhaled deeply as he placed a finger on your covered abdomen and uttered, “That's not an innocent baby there; that's a monster, a natural Supe, and a potential killer. You already know that the CIA never approves such things. We will not permit the birth of any more Homelanders. Fucking do it already and keep your mouth shut; you'll be paid handsomely.”

The female doctor began to get ready to do the procedure. “We don't want to deal with an issue if she or the man she got pregnant by finds out this,” she stated.

“They won't; this will remain a secret, and nobody will ever discuss it, so let's be positive; she doesn't remember anything, am I right? How fortunate we are to live in a nation where medicine and technology are so advanced. That would be very helpful as well, my dear.” Butcher winked at the doctor, acting as though everything was normal.

Butcher scowled when he noticed the elegant green ring on your finger after they had both briefly left the room. He had no idea what this meant or even whether it was from Soldier Boy, but it was preferable to leave no trace and not take any more chances. He removed your ring from your finger and threw it into the closest tin in the room for this reason.

After what seemed like an hour of waiting, they eventually finished the procedure, and Butcher exhaled with relief when he was informed that it was finished. Where Butcher tossed your ring, they threw the dead fetus that was removed from your body in cold blood. Everything was in order.

Butcher spoke with the doctors about your condition once more, ensuring that you slept until you had fully recovered physically. He also paid them off and reminded them not to discuss what had happened with anyone else.

He knew you would soon be alright.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @smexydilflover @deebris @coolrobloxkid28 @endrfairy @libby99hb @raynamorono23 @cwutesygrl @ladysparkles78 @seokjinluvb0t   @deangirl96 @whendiditendalthoughenjoyment @mostlymarvelgirl

[headspace-hotel]

Researching herbicide resistance in weeds.

A decade ago, everyone said rotating applications of different herbicides was key to stopping herbicide resistance.

Then, around 2015, evidence from a large study emerged saying that this actually causes weeds to be MORE resistant, so the best thing to do is to spray a combination of multiple herbicides mixed together at once.

Now that is being called into question too. Whoda thunk it...

Herbicide resistance among weeds is only getting stronger. Recently, scientists found an annual bluegrass (Poa annua) on a golf course that was resistant to seven herbicide modes of action at once. Seven. SEVEN. Amaranth plants been found with resistance to six herbicide modes of action at once. Twenty years ago, the narrative was that resistance to glyphosate (Roundup) was unlikely to become widespread; today it's the second-most common type of resistance.

What's more, plants are developing types of herbicide resistance that are effective against multiple herbicides at once and harder to detect. Instead of changing the chemical processes within them that are affected by the herbicides so the herbicides don't work as well, they're changing the way they absorb chemicals in the first place. Resistant plants are producing enzymes that detoxify the herbicides before they even enter the plants' cells.

It took Monsanto ten years to develop crop varieties resistant to Dicamba (after weeds made 'Roundup Ready' crops pointless). Palmer amaranth evolved Dicamba resistance in five years.

So I asked, "Why are all the proposed solutions dependent on using more herbicides, when we know damn well that this is going to do nothing but make the weeds evolve faster?"

The answer is that chemical companies have the world in a death grip. They can't make money off non-chemical solutions, so chemical solutions get all the funding, research, and outreach to farmers.

But why do chemical companies have so much power?

One of the biggest reasons is the U.S. military.

In the Vietnam war, all of Vietnam was sprayed with toxic herbicides like Agent Orange, which was incredibly toxic to humans and affected the Vietnamese population with horrible illnesses and birth defects. Monsanto, the company that made the herbicides, knew that it did this, but didn't tell anyone. The US government didn't admit that they'd poisoned humans on a mass scale until Vietnam veterans started dying and coming down with horrible illnesses, and even then, it took them 40 years. (My Papaw died at 60 because of that stuff.) And the soldiers weren't there for very long. As for the Vietnamese people, the soil and water where they live is contaminated.

Similarly, during the "war on drugs," the US military sprayed Roundup and other chemicals on fields to destroy coca plants and other plants used in the manufacturing of drugs. This killed a lot of crops that farmers needed to live, and caused major health problems in places such as Columbia. The US government said that people getting sick were lying and that Roundup was just as safe as table salt. (A statement that did not age well.)

So chemical companies make money off arming the USA military. The American lawn care industry, and the agricultural system, therefore originates in more than one way from the United States's war-mongering.

The other major way is described in this article (which I highly recommend), which describes how after WW2, chemical plants used for manufacturing explosives were changed into fertilizer producing plants, but chemical companies couldn't market all that fertilizer to farmers, so they invented the lawn care industry. No exaggeration, that's literally what happened.

This really changes my perspective on all the writings about fixing the agricultural system. The resources are biased towards the use of chemicals in agriculture because the companies are so powerful as to make outreach and research for non-chemical methods of agriculture really hard to fund. All the funding is in finding new ways to spray chemicals or spraying slightly different chemicals, because that's what you can actually get ahold of money to look into. It is like the research has to negotiate a truce with the chemical companies, suggesting only solutions that won't cause lower profits.

Meanwhile my respect for Amaranth is skyrocketing.

Who would win: The USA military-industrial complex or one leafy boi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Kitty huffs, a rare moment of agitation, and blows it out sharply. She thrusts her hands forward and hurls the string of pearls onto the couch. She curls her fingers in frustration and stares at them, like a puzzle. 

“My goddamn hands won’t stop shaking,” she utters. 

You cross the room to her, wordlessly, and take the necklace. You move behind her to clasp it in place over her collar. She wears a straight cut black dress with no ornament. The pearls are a delicate touch to the otherwise plain outfit. 

“What do you think he wants?” Adrienne finally asks the question none of you dared. 

You look at her helplessly. They can never know you did this. They can’t ever know that the reason they are so scared in that moment is your fault. They might have longed to pull the trigger themselves but actually doing it is different. It’s... irredeemable. 

“He said we’re under his protection,” you say flatly. 

“Oh, come on, you’re the most skeptical of all of us,” Kitty accuses, “you believe that. Daddy was just another soldier.” 

“Maybe but what else are we going to do but obey?” You counter. 

Kitty winces and Adrienne’s eyes bat. Your older sister shakes her head, “you’re not the one to give up.” 

“I am.” You insist. “If it keeps you two safe then I will do whatever needs to be done.” 

They’re silent for a moment as they look from you to each other. They nod. “Us too,” Kitty says. “We have to take care of each other.” 

“Like always,” Adrienne agrees. 

Silence floods the room again. There’s a car waiting outside a few minutes later. You march out in another sombre parade. It’s a different kind of funeral that day. You’re not mourning the past, you’re mourning the future and what could have been and will never be. 

You sit together in the back seat. You hold hands. You never went to many of these ‘business’ gatherings. Outside of a wedding, you weren’t invited. Your father was only invited by the few people who knew him in the outfit. He was only ever the big dog when he barked at his three daughters. 

The car stops, you get out. You squeeze your sisters’ hands before you detach. The man who drove leads you to the immaculate white facade of the grand hall. You’re somewhat confused by the venue but this is not a day for questions. You had your curiosity beat out of you long ago. 

Inside, you’re led to a set of open doors. You enter and another man stands to beckon you further inside. There are bodies all around, all in dark suits, muttering under their breath, coughing, tapping fingers. 

Your eyes skim around cautiously. Barnes sits at the head table. He’s calm and unbothered by the new arrival. He’s indifferent to his men as the one next to him whispers in his ear. Rogers stands behind the boss’ chair as he speaks to him, gripping the elaborate orb that tops the post of the straight-backed seat. 

Barnes’ gaze meets yours only as you and your sisters are put at a table of your own. It feels like some hearing. A court case. Are they hearing the crimes of your father? But he said... 

No questions. There’s nothing the answers can change for you. Adrienne fidgets, wringing her hands restlessly, and Kitty sit so straight it looks like it hurts. None of you look past the table. Your daddy would smack your mouth for your wandering eyes. 

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s gut through the bullshit,” Barnes’ voice brings the voice to deathly lull. The men shift their bodies and their focus. The doors close subtly behind the boss’ timbre. “Now, don’t think I brought you here because of a single soldier. You know better. All of you.” 

His voice is stringent but restrained. Still, it’s enough to instill fear. You gulp and dare to look up at him. He stands and puts his hands on the table. 

“First, a crooked accountant. Bald clown messing around. Then I got men going out, coming back short. Then dead.” He snarls. “I don’t care about the small men. With due respect,” he pauses and glances in your direction, “but I know they don’t think for themselves, too. I know it was one of you. This isn’t just chance. 

“One of you popped Warren ‘cause he found you out,” Barnes continues.  

You sense movement like a soft breeze. Rogers edges along the wall, unnoticed. You stare in slow motion as he moves quickly towards another table. 

“And I found you out too,” Barnes hits the table with his fist. “I went through the numbers and I found the fucking thief.” 

You frown. It’s... lies. He told you that day. At the funeral. Your daddy was the thief. Now he’s telling them something different. He used you. It makes a good story. A mysteriously dead soldier, missing money... makes it easy to trim the fat. 

“Milo,” Barnes points and a chair scrapes and teeters.  

Rogers grabs the capo from behind, closing his hands around his neck. He drags him easily, like a rag doll. They aren’t so different in size and yet the blond moves the other easily as he bulls around the table and brings the man to the center of the room. 

“You been pocketing my money.” Barnes stands straight and gestures casually. 

Rogers tosses the other man, Milo, to the floor and kicks him so he sprawls. His assault is methodical. He doesn’t let up. He stomps and batters the man into the polished wood. The noise of cracking bones and breaking cartilage itch in your ears. The accused hacks and chokes on spit and blood. 

Your sisters smother gasps and startled sobs. You’re only mortified by your own indifference. Are you so callous to feel nothing for a man chosen to pay for father’s death? For your actions? You just can’t. You know every man in this room is just like your father was. Cruel. Mean. They deserve it just as much as he did. 

“Enough,” Barnes orders and Rogers steps back, combing his long hair away from his face as he puffs. The man on the floor is a puddle of wheezes. 

“Your houses, your cars, your accounts, all of it, will be turned over to Warren’s daughters. For his good service to me. He died finding you out. He died for the good of the outfit. He smoked out the mole,” Barnes says. “And you orphaned his daughters, just like you meant to do to every man in this room.” 

Silence. Stillness. No one moves. 

“You are all dismissed. On your way out, you make sure to pay your disrespects to that scum,” Barnes growls. “And look at him, hard and long, because the next fucker I catch with his hands in my pockets will be right there with him.” 

There’s a moment before anyone moves. The first man to rise is greying around his temples. He comes out from behind the table and nears the shaking form on the floor. He spits on Milo then sends his pointed leather shoe into the man’s stomach. He marches out without looking back. 

The next man follows suit. Spit, kick, go. One after another the men disburse in the same manner. The noises, ptuah, crack, tap, tap, tap, form a sickly rhythm. You can only sit and watch. 

You reach to your sisters and take their hands again. You glance between them. They look on in horror. They aren’t made for this. Your eyes flit back to the head table and find the king looking over his court. No, he’s looking at you. 

Barnes dips his chin and his eyes gleam. He is the master. No one dares to challenge the narrative he’s written. Whatever he says is all the truth they need to worry about. Same goes for you. 

[rifari2037]

They talked about cultural differences?? Really??? I laughed so hard 🤣

Do they realised that air and water are different too?? That their cultural are completely opposite???

Water tribe people killed animals for food, furniture, clothes, etc. That's their culture! Air nomads don't killed animals, even a fly, for any reasons, they're vegetarian. That's their culture!!

There's nothing wrong with both cultures, but if we think about it with sense, can two people with extreme cultural differences marry and accept each other's cultures easily?

No, it won't be easy. Katara and Aang got married without any problems about cultural differences because Bryke were the writers!

Do they know that Aang/Kataang stand was aware about it and wrote this???

Do they even realise that in canon Aang doesn't really like Water Tribe culture?? Yes, that's CANON!!

Katara : Bato, it looks like home! [Bato, Katara, Sokka, and Aang file inside.] Sokka : Everything's here, even the pelts! Aang : [Sarcastically.] Yeah, nothing's cozier than dead animal skins.

Katara : [Surprised and delighted.] No way! Stewed sea prunes! Bato : Help yourself! Sokka : Dad could eat a whole barrel of these things! Aang takes a bowl of stewed sea prunes and sniffs it, but looks away in disgust and sets it to the side.

Aang : Hey everyone! Sorry I was gone so long. Katara : [Turns to face him.] Hey, Aang, I didn't notice you left. Aang : Yup, but now I'm back. [Sitting down.] Sure could go for some delicious sea prunes! Aang quickly takes some bites of sea prunes, but chokes them back up, yet he pretends to enjoy them. Katara, Bato, and Sokka look at him strangely.

Hama : I wanted to surprise you! I bought all this food today so I could fix you a big Water Tribe dinner. Of course, I can't get all the ingredients I need here, but ocean kumquats are a lot like sea prunes if you stew them long enough. Aang : [Sticking his tongue out in disgust.] Great!

Aang : [Whispering to Toph.] I'd steer clear of the sea prunes. Toph : I thought they were ocean kumquats. Aang : Close enough.

Oh, btw, An ocean kumquat is a small, round fruit often consumed in the Fire Nation. That's close enough with sea prunes, water tribe cuisine.

When Aang doesn't like water tribe cuisine, I can imagine Zuko and Katara having dinner, sharing water tribe and fire nation dishes and they enjoying it because it taste similar. 😂

Fire and water are the opposite elements, that's why they are compliment each other.

Yin and Yang shows a balance between two opposites with a portion of the opposite element in each section.

Remember what Iroh said about the elements? Let's see if fire and water don't mix together, especially for Zuko and Katara.

"Fire is the element of power..."

"...The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy and drive to achieve what they want."

"Water is the element of change..."

"...The people of the Water Tribe are capable of adapting to many things..."

"...They have a deep sense of community and love that holds them together through anything."

Young Zuko : [Zuko is shown standing up.] You can't sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them?

Zuko and Katara would bicker and not get along well, they said?? Really??

Every time Katara is mad, Zuko just silent and listen to her. Even when they're still enemies!!

Oh, btw, Katara not 'always' threatened Zuko to kill him if he hurt Aang. It happened once. She is still mad at him not because of Aang, but because he betrayed her.

That's personal to her, she is mad not because he hurt someone else but he hurt her. I mean, if she really mad at him because of Aang, why is she connected her anger at Zuko to her mom, not Aang (again)?

And after this moment, after Katara by her own choice, forgives Zuko, do Zuko and Katara always bickering and not get along at all??? No, they're not!!

Zuko gives Katara advice, Katara listens. Katara gives Zuko advice, Zuko listens.

They reassure each other at a very important moment.

Lastly, I don't understand how Zuko and Katara, who they said would never get along, always save each other lives, even Zuko sacrifice his life to her?

[trulyumai]

To Love and Forget

Pairing: Messmer x Reader

synopsis: The red haired knight didn’t love easily, but with his wife, it was thoughtless.

Warnings: None

A/N: Can you tell this man has me in a trance? Cause I’m Messmerized ;) (Okay I’m sorry enjoy the story)

Will his wife adore him, even with the scorched bodies left in his wake?

“We should visit soon, my love. I need to restock the kitchen.”

Messmer sat by the fire, watching as crimson and amber flames caressed the wooden logs. It crumbled under such intense heat, yet he observed regardless, as the pile turned to ash.

His beloved wife stirred a worn silver pot in the kitchen. The aroma of something savory wafted, momentarily drawing him from his troubled thoughts.

“Hm? Where to?”

Pale fingers brushed the man’s chin lightly, out of habit.

Truthfully, he hadn’t been listening as attentively as usual. On any other occasion, Messmer would be beside her, aiding and showering his wife with kisses as he deemed fit. She would giggle, flashing her bright smile, and likely try to push him away before resuming her culinary duties.

But this night was different

His patience wore thin; and so did his soldiers. They lay fallen in the yellowed wheat fields, swords piercing their backs. A surprise attack had sealed their fate, led by whom? Messmer didn’t know, flames began to dance across his pink and white knuckles with a methodical rhythm.

“The town, my love! I ran out of yeast the night before.”

“The town?” The knight gripped his knee harshly with his right hand. Unbeknownst to him, his wife hummed in agreement and turned to gaze at him.

“Mmh, I thought I would go in the morning. Save myself the trouble for—”

“Darling, I’m sure whatever you think you need can wait.”

His neck turned slightly towards her, earning a frown. She grasped the light blue apron around her middle, looking confusedly at her husband through her lashes. The room grew unbearably warm, a telltale sign of Messmer’s anger—disappointment, occasionally.

She could see his blazing eyes from here. Hells, they illuminated most of the living room.

“But… darling, our—”

“Enough. Wife.”

He stood taller now; she had to crane her neck back to meet his fiery gaze.

“It’s not safe. You’ll wait.”

Messmer approached, his maroon hair swaying with each step. In seconds, he was before her, appearing torn between worry and contempt.

She refused to meet his gaze any longer, unable to comprehend his displeasure.

Yet Messmer persisted. His index finger traced the skin around her chin, urging it upward with gentle pressure.

Now he stood with a gaze of love, mingled with sympathy. How swiftly he could change—she would never understand. His emotions had become less predictable lately; just the other day, he incinerated a field when a direbear had ventured too close.

She had regarded him then with the same eyes—worry, concern. He hadn’t acknowledged it, merely placing his hand back on her waist and continuing.

Just a he was doing now, ignoring the present.

“Forgive me, my love, I’ve been ah— distracted.” Noticing the change in atmosphere, his fingers found home in her hair, they stroked and smoothed over it with newfound patience.

“Distracted?” Her head rested upon his hand now, it engulfed it instantly.

“With what?”

He laughed.

It was small— and not the humorous kind.

“It’s nothing that should ail you, darling.”

His form bent over, and she felt the man’s forehead tap hers adoringly.

His eyes stared right into her own, they were half lidded and the knight held a light smile upon his face.

“Let me do the worrying, hm?”

His nose bumped with hers, and soon their lips touched. She felt his breath waft across her lips— her cheeks.

It was warm, and smelled of a cider he had made earlier that day.

“Kiss me, darling?” He pleaded.

And who was she to deny such a man of power?

The girl leaned in, now on her tiptoes as her soft mouth collided with his chapped one.

The maroon knight let out a groan, his knees almost buckled for how much he had to hold back from the poor girl.

So as a distraction, he pulled away, and began to kiss and suck the skin of her neck, making his way to her perfect jawline.

“But what about ah— “

A light kiss.

“The food—“

Another bite.

His chin met her shoulder, his lips grazed the bottom of her ear.

“Should you worry about that now, dear wife?”

His voice was deep, gravelly from the amount of lust bestowed upon his body.

The woman squeaked, embarrassed such an action would fluster her so.

“Its just ah— what would we do for to— morrow?"

Sharply, his arms sagged down, and his hands met with the back of her legs.

Quickly he acted, and pulled each of her legs across his muscled torso.

Now face to face, the man walked backwards, towards the well worn stairs leading to their shared bedside.

She laughed, her head bobbed to the side and he couldn’t help but let out a timber one of his own.

His wife’s arms looped around his wide shoulders, and met just behind his neck.

“Do not concern yourself with such frivolous tasks, my love.” He began his kisses once more,

each laid a different love bite.

One pink

One purple

“For tonight, I found my feast, mmh?”

She poked at the pale man’s cheek.

“Who knew you could hold such a flirtatious remark?” She teased, and Messmer clicked his tongue before tossing her lightly upon the mattress.

His wife’s hair engulfed the pillows, it surrounded her like a halo and he swore he’d remember such an image for the rest of his days. No matter the cost.

He’ll see her eyes before his future slumbers

Hear her laugh before the numerous fights to come on the battlefield

Eventually, when his last breath graces his lips, he’ll taste her there, feel the breath of hers brush past his vicinity.

He’ll remember such love filled eyes

He’ll remember what she smelled like— elder flowers and apples.

He’ll remember she loved him.

And that he loved her.

[astrodice]

What career suites you best based on destiny matrix? (part 1/3)

To find out what career suits you best and what can you do to succeed, we have to look at the number under the dollar sign.

1 - Magician

People with magician energy are very talented, ambitious and hardworking. They are early satisfied with mediocre results and salary. They always try for more and they have all the right tools to achieve all of their goals. Negative aspect of this energy is that people might lie and use other people to get benefits or they can spend their life wasting their talents by doing nothing.

The most suitable career:

tbh, they can do anything

Challenges that affect career:

laziness, hoping that everything will be figured out by itself

detachment from colleagues, lying

using people, being selfish

2 - High Priestess

People with high priestess energy are highly intuitive and may I say slow (they need more time to come up with a plan). A career that requires making fast decisions is not suitable for those people. On the contrary, they need a job that will allow them to move at a stable measured pace and use their intuition.

The most suitable career:

healer

psychologist, therapist

artist

Challenges that affect career:

avoiding conflicts

being afraid to show off your skills

not being able to make quick decisions

3 - Empress

People with empress energy are definition of "beauty and brains". Such individuals easily identify points of contact with the interests of other people, solve all problems quickly and confidently. Also, since they feel confident around women, it's easy for them to make career in a field focused on women or women's needs.

The most suitable career:

CEO

medical worker

florist

beauty industry worker

Challenges that affect career:

pride, sense of superiority

power abuse

being overly materialistic

irrational spendings/hoarding

4 - Emperor

People with emperor energy are executive, demanding (of themselves and of others) and they quickly gain credibility and respect. Such individuals have every chance to take a high position or open their own business.

The most suitable career:

analyst

accountant

auditor

lawyer

policeman, soldier

CEO

Challenges that affect career:

being controlling, demanding

inability to find compromises

power abuse

5 - Hierophant

People with hierophant energy have high intelligence and excellent memory. They are also charismatic which makes them to be a good speakers, they just know how to make public listen.

The most suitable career:

teacher, professor, coach

analyst

historian, librarian

lawyer

marriage counsellor

medical worker

Challenges that affect career:

being demanding

unwillingness to delegate responsibilities

unwillingness to learn something new

6 - Lovers

People with lovers energy have an eye for seeing pros and cons and can skillfully transform one into the other. The have aesthetically pleasing taste, empathy and good artistic skills.

The most suitable career:

designer

interpreter

artist

psychologist, therapist

marriage counsellor

beauty industry worker

Challenges that affect career:

working in a field that you hate

being overly emotional during decision-making

people-pleasing

imposing your opinion

7 - Chariot

People chariot will succeed in any field where they will be active and hardworking. They are disciplined, good at controlling their emotions, they also have an ability to react quickly and clearly to any change in the situation.

The most suitable career:

traveller, travel-blogger

flight attendant

driver

travel agent

Challenges that affect career:

Inability to rest (workaholism)

lack of goals, incorrect goal setting (goals are too easy or impossible to achieve)

rushed decisions

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (4)- Fighting The Enemy

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 2.3k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Graphic Depiction of Violence and murder, dark thoughts

—

Crimson stained your hands, the warm liquid slowly dripping down your forearms as you leaned over the body, fragments of skull blending with flesh and brain being held in your trembling hands.

Eyes pleaded you for their life as you stood over their body, words spilling desperately out of their lips as they stared up at you, begging for you to take mercy. Their pleas were cut short, blood splattering on the floor behind them, the life gradually draining out of their eyes.

A gut wrenching cry was torn out of their throat when your hand forced its way past skin and bones, fingers roughly gripping onto their intestines, squeezing with vigour for another primal sound to be ripped out of them before pulling hard, their body falling limp to the ground. A small squelch follows when you drop the organ next to their corpse, not even giving the scene a second glance.

Your hand hits the side of your head as you twitch it to the side, shaking the thoughts out of your mind, trying to focus on your mission.

Your mind was slowly fracturing into pieces, various memories flooding your thoughts as you walked through the eerie hallway, boots echoing in the abandoned space. You weren't sure what had happened, the only thing that you knew for certain was that you were to obey. You didn't have a choice. It was engraved in you. Listen to them. Kill for them. That was all you had to do.

No we don't.

We are better than them.

We aren't a toy for them to play with.

Your jaw clenched at the irritating voice sounding around in your head again, merging with the violent flashbacks, further adding to your unpleasant mood. You were a weapon. Weapons didn't need to think. They just kill. Yet, the incessant part of you was adamant we were stronger, more powerful than them, we could do anything if you just gave over control.

Yes, see, you're getting it now. Give me control.

"So what? You can murder everyone," you mutter out loud, the mask muffling your words as you argue with your alter ego, knowing that, despite the things you have done based on the flashbacks, the things they have done... They were darker, more sinister, they enjoyed it. You didn't. You never would. You did what you had to do to survive.

It's what they deserve.

You want to scream at the voice, begging it to shut up. Yes they deserve to die for what they had done to you but you weren't going to be the ones to kill them.

Every time you come back, you somehow try to be more virtuous.

It groans, a scoff leaving you. You were trying to make up for the things you had done, be a little more merciful, there was nothing wrong with that.

You can't. We can't be good anymore. There's no point in trying to redeem us. We're already a monster, there's no changing that.

At its words, you remain silent, doing your best to ignore them as you wander through the hallways, your eyes focussing on small indents on the wall.

A violent scream was torn out of you, your hands doing everything in their power to stop the guards dragging you back to your cell, your veins burning with agony as the serum entered your bloodstream. Your fingers dug into the concrete, leaving indents as you pried away at the stone, desperately trying to stop them from taking you back.

You shook your head once more, the painful memory soon fading away, leaving you confused. You suddenly seemed to recognise the building you were in, your fingers slotting against the marks, the handprints slightly smaller, your mind too broken to place the significance of the memory.

Pushing down the screams echoing in your mind and shaking off the further memories that invaded your thoughts, you worked your way around the building, searching for the room you were instructed to find. All you knew was that there was a flash drive in there that Hydra needed to keep out of the Avengers' hands, the team apparently gaining intel on this base.

You weren't expecting them to locate it yet nor for them to be in the base, but your general warned you to stay on guard, the order more difficult than expected due to the instability of your mind.

You were nearly at the room but a gnawing feeling made you pause in your tracks, head tilting curiously at the room you were stopped outside of, your hand moving without thought to open the door, revealing the dark and empty concrete cell. You swallowed nervously at the sight of dry blood staining the walls, the floor and even parts of the ceiling, another flashback painfully invading your minds, causing you to lose focus.

***

"I don't have a good feeling about this Steve," Natasha mutters while the two of them enter the base, Wanda entering through a different exit, the team confident in her magic ability and training to handle herself.

"Neither," he sighs out in agreement, their bodies almost silently walking through the abandoned building, Natasha taking the corridors to the left while Steve went right, splitting off to cover more ground.

Nerves etched away at Natasha, the spy confused at the sudden emotion she was feeling. She never got nervous, so why was she on edge? Her gun was firmly gripped in her hand, creeping through the hallways with it raised, ready to fire if needed.

Emerald green searched through various corridors, her eyes glossing over with crestfallen look at the marks all over the wall, indicating a clear struggle all the way down the hall until it reached the isolated steel door at the end. Natasha was already walking towards the room when a quiet, pained noise caught her attention, her finger ready on the trigger as she rounded the corner, pausing at the sight before her.

Your ominous figure stood facing an empty room, hands twitching by your side, unaware of the spy near you, or the Captain who rounded the corner on the other side of the hallway, pausing when Natasha signalled for him to do so.

"Don't make me kill them," you almost whimper out, lost in a spiral of memories, your mind replaying the broken memory. "They're just children."

"I won't repeat it again Soldat," his voice low and commanding at your ear, malice lacing his next words, "Don't leave the room until every single one of them is dead."

Steve raises his shield ready to throw at your words, confusion written across his and the redhead's face.

I told you. We're a monster.

Snapping at the voice inside your head, your fist collides with the wall, trying to express your anger, confusion and hurt, when the sound of metal gliding through the air reaches your ear, body turning to the side, hand catching the vibranium disk.

Steve's face pales a little at how unaffected you were by his throw, most people being knocked back a little, his expression swiftly switching to shock when it's thrown back forcefully at him. He has to take a couple steps back when he catches it to stay balanced, your body making it's way over to him, eyes slowly becoming lifeless as you flicker between having and losing control.

He uses his shield to protect him when your fist collides with the metal, a loud noise reverberating around the room, a gunshot being added to the mix when a bullet slices through your leg, jaw clenching at the pain. You grit your teeth, swinging your other arm to hit the side of the blonde man, a groan escaping him at your strength while he goes to parry your other punch, you injured leg swiping at his knee, knocking him back to the ground.

While the man climbs to his feet, a pair of thighs wrap around your head, trying to force your body to the ground, unable to beat your strength. Wrapping your arms around the back of her body, her elbow being brought down on whatever part of you she could reach, you push her body into the nearest wall, her back painfully banging against it.

The sound of boots approaching quickly causes you to pull away from the wall, slamming the body down against the floor, a small cry escaping her before you lower your body, merely evading the punch from the man and tackling his body to the ground, shield clattering next to him.

Your legs straddle his stomach, grip tight to prevent his movements while your hands goes to his throat, merciless with your grip as his face starts to turn red. Your thumbs dig in harshly against his airways, his hands prying at your own, fingers digging in painfully with the amount of strength he was using making your grip falter, hands reaching to the red and blue metal disk.

Fear glosses over in his eyes as you raise the shield into the air, attempting to bring it down on his throat when his hands clutch at the bottom of it, desperately trying to stop you. Your eyes are dark, no ounce of humanity left in them as you press down harder, the edge of the shield pressing lightly against his throat as he fights for his life,

To catch him off guard, you lift the shield, his fingers slipping off it and enabling you to abruptly bring it back down.

His hands only just block his neck in time, a muffle groan leaving you at the pain radiating throughout your body, electricity coursing through your body from the small device attached onto your neck. The device causes a sense of Deja vu to flicker across your mind, ignoring it as you stagger to your feet, turning to the redhead who raises her gun at you.

Blood oozes out of your leg from where she last shot you, Steve regaining his breath as he slowly pushes his body off the ground, your gaze locked on the woman in front of you, familiarity causing your head to tilt while you stare at her, waiting for her next move.

You can see her hesitation, her finger hovering over the trigger as the barrel is aimed at your face. You take a step forward, daring her to take the shot when she swiftly lowers it, another bullet lodging itself into your body, pain radiating from your side.

You fall to your knees at the pain, her gaze flickering to the man behind you, his hands grabbing the shield once again. You close your eyes, focusing on the sound of his movements to imagine his stance, visualising his body behind you and waiting for the gap to present itself. When he goes to swing the metal at you, you press your hand down into the ground, using it to spring your body off the concrete as you spin around, kicking your leg out to strike into his side.

A loud snap can be heard as the force of your kick splinters his ribs, his body falling to the concrete while he takes in sharp breaths, anguish evident on his face as he holds his side.

You're certain that if he was human the impact would have killed him, instead it merely immobilises him, your attention returning the woman you think you know.

When she keeps her gaze on you, the firearm still aimed at you, you can feel annoyance and anger enter your mind as she hovers her finger over the trigger, not wanting any more bullets to be lodged inside you. Your fingers deftly wrap around the handle of the blade in your pocket, swiftly pulling it and spinning it between your fingers as you wait for her to make the first move.

Confusion sneaks onto your face when she merely smirks at you, her gaze flickering behind you for a brief second. Without even thinking, you turn and launch the knife at the other figure, the metal blade being encased in red tendrils of magic before it clatters to the ground, the brunette's eyes glowing red.

There's a glint of recognition in her eyes when she sees you, her magic abruptly travelling towards you and wrapping around you, the tendrils seeping into the side of your head and into your mind.

You're powerless against her magic, an animalistic noise being torn out of you as more gruesome flashbacks swarm your mind, hands desperately clutching at your head to make it stop.

Natasha watches with a pained look, your cries of anguish stirring something inside her while Wanda lets out a small cry at the things she was seeing in your mind.

You fall to your knees roughly, fingers digging into the side of your head as you try to make it stop, you need to make it stop.

Ending the pain for the both of you, Wanda navigates her way through your fractured mind and eventually manages to get your body to fall unconscious, your body limp of the ground as the witch wipes the tears off of her cheeks, staring at the redhead opposite her who has curiosity written across her face.

"I don't know how long I can hold her," she says to the assassin, her magic still flowing around your head as she tries to keep you still.

"Can you hold her until we get back to the tower?" Natasha asks, making her way over to Steve who is still in agony on the ground. She slowly helps him to his feet, careful not to hurt him anymore while turning her gaze back to the witch.

"I think so," she says a little nervously, focusing on her magic.

"Good, let's get her on the jet, Fury's going to want to know what's happened." Everyone agrees with Natasha's plan, the magic encasing your entire body as you're lifted into the air, the redhead aiding the injured super soldier towards the jet.

What could possibly go wrong?

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type AU.

Soap is the long forgotten god of death.

Ghost is his first follower in a very long time.

Ao3 /// part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7 /// part 8 /// part 9

————

At first, Soap had been seen as kind and benevolent. The one to end someone’s suffering and help them along to the afterlife. However, as more wars began to break out, his perception changed into that of a bloodthirsty warmonger. The type that you sacrifice the blood of innocents to for luck in your upcoming battles.

Soap had simply ignored the brutish offerings. But then they spread. Like a plague, soon everyone was murdering their chosen victims in his temples in the hopes that it would bring them even more fortune.

Realizing that his presence was just causing more and more to die, he let himself fade away. He was reduced to nothing more than a comforting feeling people felt before they died. Over time, the so-called offerings stopped. Scared of what would happen should he return, he continued to fade.

A god is only as strong as their followers believe them to be. With no followers, no offerings, they are nothing. While mortal weaponry may hurt a god, may even get them to bleed, it cannot kill them. A god can only truly die when they are no longer remembered.

Soap is waiting for the day that he is truly forgotten and can pass on when he gets a feeling. One he has not had in an age. Though his worshippers have abandoned him, his temples and statues remained, though now significantly worse for wear. And someone just provided an offering of a single slice of bread on one of his statues.

A meager offering, sure, but it’s enough to get his attention. He has almost no power nor any energy left, but he sees a soldier sitting next to the statue as he ate his meal.

Meanwhile, Ghost hadn’t the faintest clue what god he just gave an offering to, but he felt a little better afterwards and so just hoped they weren’t evil. He took note of the statue’s appearance and when his troop was encamped near a town, he snuck away to a local library to see if there were any books he could find about it.

He was not apart of the army willingly, but he owed them a life debt and they had decided that it would only be repaid upon his death. Just a glorified prisoner, he was kept at the general’s side as his favorite weapon. Sneaking away was difficult, but definitely doable. The few times he was caught, he made enough of a disturbance that it was easier for everyone involved to let him do his thing.

They did not need to worry about him running away. If he was able, he’d have run the second he was given the chance. However, he was stuck. As long as he owed a debt, he could not leave.

The statue, at the very least, gave him something to do.

He was intrigued. He did not recognize the features at all, and his research confirmed that it was not a well known deity. It takes a long time of asking the right people and finding the right books to uncover the story of the forgotten god.

Having read everything — from loving poems about the being helping sickly children find comfort in their last moments to angry anecdotes about desperate townspeople sacrificing themselves in the hope that the god would show them mercy — he decides to give the god the benefit of the doubt.

He figures the world is shitty enough, why not find some good that had been tucked away? Ghost himself was seen more as a weapon than a person and couldn’t help but sympathize. He was never one for gods or worship, more likely to curse the heavens than ever sacrifice something of his, but he almost felt bad for the being. So, the next day, from one bloodthirsty monster to another, he gives the forgotten god more offerings.

It’s still not much, just an apple and a ring the general wouldn’t notice missing, but he sets them there anyways. He damn near jumps out of his fucking skin when the feeling of an accepted offering floods through him. He stares at what would have originally been the face of the statue, but nothing happens. The trees behind him continue to sing their song in the faint breeze, with the sounds of a lively woods never fading.

There is no outside sound, no out of place movement, no indication that he hadn’t just imagined the feeling. A leaf falling from one of the branches and landing on the pedestal, where the offerings were now gone, snapped him out of his staring contest. He muttered out a gruff thanks and sat down to eat, ignoring the feeling of being watched.

[theangrycomet-art]

TFA: Ariel/Elita 1's Squadron, Team Orthia

I fell down the wiki rabbit hole last night and now I have these.

Everyone's heights are off/going to change in the future because I wasn't sure on everyone's alts when I was first drawing out the line up.

I mostly just wanted to get ideas down on paper.

COMMISSIONS OPEN

Transcript of my Handwriting Plus Other Lore:

Nothing here’s set in stone I just wrote down ideas/compiled thoughts as they came to me.

edit: Changed Lancer’s Profile Info to match new ideas I have

TFA: Sheild of Solus

Operation: Failsafe

Purpose: To sabotage any and all Decipticon efforts of gaining any headway in this war. First, start off with the infiltrators, next, hit them where it hurts.

After discovering a spy had infiltrated their ranks, Alpha Trion took it upon himself to assemble a team to sabotage any Decipticon efforts to gain a foothold on Cybertron, hoping that they would be able to counter any threats on Cybertron.

Ariel/Elita-1

Commander and the Leader

High-ranking member of the Elite Guard

Alpha Trion’s inside eyes

Alt Mode: Cybertronian Heavy Duty Truck -> Monster Truck

Special Upgrade: Classified

Good-Morningstar Mace: Morning star with detachable head

Laser Kusarigama: This weighted chain serves Elita well when she needs to tie up the enemy (or retrieve your teammate as her gravity fluctuates again)

Tidbit: One of the few of the Elite Guard to not have gone to the Academy, Elita rose through the ranks through her skill and ingenuity, despite other’s misgivings. A bit rough around the edges, she is always there for her fellow bots. When her former mentor requested her aid in his mission, she had no hesitation joining. (It helped that it got her away from her more tiresome coworkers)  

Chromia

Second in Command

Recon Specialist, Infiltrator

Former Intelligence Officer; she retired when she was not allowed to investigate Highbrows abrupt disappearance and opened a private investigator business.

Alt Mode: Cybertronian Trike -> Trike (like Harley-Davidson Tri Glide Ultra)

Special Upgrade: Lockpick: with enough time she can pick any lock and hack into any systems with the extensions in her servos. However, this can takes a lot of her processing power and leaves her vulnerable.

Laser Sabre: Good for clashing blades and slipping between the seams of an enemy’s armor

Tidbit: Despite her worrying over her teammates, Chromia has a habit of diving helm first into her work with little disregard for herself, whether that be forgetting to refuel and recharge or tempting fate with more self-sacrificial tendencies. She’s been working on it, but bad habits die hard…

Novastar

Search and Rescue, Transportation and Retrieval

Served in the tail-end of the Great War

Worked previously in Search and Rescue with her partners Inferno and Red Alert

Through this line of work, she developed extensive connections.

AltMode: Cybertronian Truck -> Narrowbed Truck

Special Upgrade: Furnace: Nova is able to generate massive bursts of flame, and she has refined the practice into an art. The flames on her head are no only an aesthetic choice, but an outlet for the excess heat she generates. These are easily extinguished; a fact Inferno took great joy in abusing the damn firetruck bot.

Blowtorch: During her time in field during the Great War, Nova lost her left servo to a Decpticon when retrieving soldiers from behind enemy lines. She had it replaced with a blowtorch prothesis that allows her to pinpoint flames to temperatures that can cut through even the toughest of materials- temperatures that otherwise would melt her frames

Tidbit: Novastar has been trying to locate Inferno, who has recently gone MIA after responding to an off-planet distress beacon with a new recruit with little to no luck. She is hoping the new job title will grant her greater resources to expand her search.

Greenlight

Engineer

“The Miracle Worker”

A student of WheelJack’s

Greenlight’s inventions can be brilliantly or devastating (or if she’s lucky) both. She tends to get attached to her devices, however, and gets rather despondent when they are broken or do not work as intended.

Aloof, she doesn’t see the need to waste much time with small talk. It requires a bot with a lot of patience (and ability to pester) to get her to come out of her shell

Alt Mode: Cybertronian Offroader

Special Upgrade: Tasers: Though not a combat bot, Greenlight saw fit to mod herself out with some decent defense. The tasers stored in her arms can generate enough volts of electricity that can through bots thrice her size flat on their backs.

Boom Cannon: A weapon still in its testing phases, she has been building it up from stolen Decepticon specs in her free time.

Tidbit: If asked, Greenlight will say that she agreed to sign up to get out of community service for accidentally demoing a perfectly good lab with one of her inventions. While partly true, a larger part of why she joined was because she didn’t want Lancer doing this alone.

Lancer [Edited]

Researcher

Unofficial Medic

Student of Perceptor

Alt Mode: n/a, missing T-Cog

Special Upgrade: FlipScreen: her “skirt” doubles as computers, monitor and keyboard included. This grants her access to ALL of her files and more importantly allows her to run any necessary scans, analysis, or algorithms she needs when or wherever she needs. It is also a bold fashion statement

BackPack Variety Hour: She has a variety of “backpacks” each serving different purposes, though if you ask anyone but Lancer they all look identical. Despite their incredible weight, she carries them with ease.

Backup Generator: Via the generator on her back, she could keep a city fully powered without straining her spark. Most of this energy goes into the powering the extra processors she has stored in her “skirt”

Star Splitter: a powerful laser spear, though she more often then not uses it for pole vaulting than actual combat

Tidbit: Lancer has been a researcher for the Autobots for longer than many bots have been alive, mostly regarding projects Ultra Magnus would rather not go public. Despite the JetTwins being by far the most successful of these endeavors, Lancer quit shortly after. When Alpha Trion offered her a more savory research position with Twam Orthia she was quick to accept and get out from Ultra Magnus’ thumb.

Moonracer

Sharpshooter/Sniper

“Best in the Whole Galaxy!”

Graduated top of her classes at the Autobot Academy but has struggled to keep a longterm position due to her impulsive behavior, with her last job being messenger-bot for Security.

Alt Mode: Cybertron Compact Car -> Vector W8

Special Upgrade: Internal Gravity Manipulator: As labelled on the tin, she has the ability to shift her gravity, decreasing AND increasing. Typically, she uses this to “float” or “moon walk”. The change in gravity can be extended to objects she comes into direct contact, but maintaining it drains her very quickly.

Velicotron Build: Speedster Though not as fast as the infamous Blurr, Moonracer is incredibly quick both as a bot and her alt form. Combine this with her gravity-defying abilities leads to some devastating results.

Custom Ion Pistols: Dual pistols that can combine into her sniper rifle.

Tidbit: Moonracer is a good bot with a good head on her shoulders. She will always do what she thinks is right- but she tends to jump the gun on things which gets her into trouble. With inexperience comes naivety, but how is she supposed to learn anything if nobody gives her a chance to do anything?  

Individual Shots

[auspicioustidings]

At Ease

Summary: Ghost trains you to take commands. Basically a big ole power play to get you into sub space without him needing to play with you to do it. Words: 1.2k CWs: smut (light I think)

“Corporal.”

“Lieutenant Riley, sir.”

“Drills at 1900.”

“Yes sir.”

Fuck, you hated drills.

—

“Fall in.”

You took a breath and sank into soldier mode. You could do this, you’d impress him this time. No mistakes. The bed was made with the same crisp grey sheets that yours was, but owing to his rank he had a double and no other people sharing with him. You hoped you’d have a room like this one day as you crawled up onto the bed, kneeling facing him and awaiting further orders.

“Present arms.”

You turned away from him, feeling unsettled when your eyes weren’t on his. That skull mask had scared you at the start, but now it was like a comfort blanket of sorts. You hated not being able to see if he had his attention on you or not as you sank onto your elbows, keeping your ass up towards him with your head resting on the mattress.

“Inspection arms.”

You let your knees spread further and tried to undo the button on your trousers as quickly as possible. Hesitation was weakness, hesitation would make him grunt in disappointment and bring an end to drills and you hated when that happened. You hated how you could never get to the end, hated that you’d never gotten praise because you’d never earned it.

His hands were quick and practiced in ripping the trousers down off of you, leaving you fully exposed to the cold air as he took his time folding them and putting them on the bedside table. You focused your breathing, trying not to move even as you felt a trickle of moisture escape your hole, the sensation of that liquid traveling slowly through your slit and towards your clit making your cunt clench.

“Attention.”

You rolled onto your back and planted your feet on the mattress, knees wide apart and hands by your side as you stared at the ceiling. It was torture, being at attention while he just stood and said nothing. The silence made your breathing so much more obvious and you fought to calm yourself.

He must be able to see the slow throbbing of your clit as your poor cunt got more and more needy. It has shocked you the first time that your body had such a visceral reaction to this, to him. But now you knew that it didn’t matter, you had to follow orders regardless of how you ached. You could do it this time, you could withstand the mounting desperation.

You vaguely felt your right leg tremble and fought to get it to still. His hand planted on your knee and the jolt of the contact went right through you. He had never touched you during this before.

“Stand fast.”

You gritted your teeth, trying to stay still even with the warmth of his hand feeling like it may as well be him sliding inside of you. God, you needed something inside of you. You needed to be touched. When the warmth left, your eyes tried to slide forward, to see him.

“Eyes forward!”

You stiffened and your eyes shot back to the ceiling, hands by your sides now white knuckled gripping at the sheets. You could do this. It must have been a half hour before he gave another order and your whole body was wound tight. You felt swollen, like a balloon that’s latex was stretched so thin it was ready to burst from the slightest change. Your clit throbbed in time to your heartbeat.

“At ease corporal.”

This was new, you had never gotten this far. You visualised the position in your head and felt tears fight to fall. You would need to clasp your hands behind your back and the movement was going to give friction you were terrified of.

“Not going to tell you again, at ease!” Ghost barked and it felt like praise, felt like he wanted you to succeed.

The shift was almost painful as you fought to get into position, to follow commands instead of curling up and shoving your hands between your legs to relieve the ache. Your heels lifted as your hands clasped behind your back and your back arched. The movement caused an absolute flood from your cunt, some dripping down onto the sheets and some following the contours of your body to pool at your tighter hole.

You don’t know how much time passed as you struggled against your own body. You were denying it and it screamed at you, every muscle tense as your blood rushed around your ears and slammed into your core, plumping up your clit with every beat of your heart. You were sure he must see how swollen it was, glistening still with the wetness that had swirled round it from when you had been presenting.

After a while it was like you were floating, your body so rigid and needy that your brain had to detach to avoid giving in. You would follow orders, you would do this.

—

Ghost smiled. Finally. You probably didn’t even realise you were sobbing now. Despite how much the intense arousal was starting to hurt you, you had found that place that let you stay still, let you think about nothing but following his orders. He looked at the mess between your legs, all swollen and wet and throbbing. He could do anything to you right now, take whatever he wanted, and you would stay right where he had ordered you to. He knew he had been right about you when he had put your record on Price’s desk as a person of interest, you just needed some training.

“Ok corporal, relax” he said as he bent over and blew a puff of air on your clit.

You fell apart beautifully, the permission meaning that even the stimulation of that puff of air sent an orgasm crashing through you. Your muscles spasmed as your back bowed, mouth twisted in a silent scream. Ah fuck it, good soliders deserved rewards no? Three of his thick, gloved fingers jammed into your greedy cunt and she accepted them eagerly, sucking on them as if trying to milk them as your bliss just kept going and going and your limbs thrashed.

By the time it was over your body was loose and useless, crumpled onto his bed in exhaustion. He grinned seeing that you sluggishly tried to rearrange yourself back into some form of parade rest. It didn’t say much for his own self-control that he quickly got his hard cock out and tugged himself off using your own arousal as lube. It didn’t take long for him to spill on your pussy.

“Fall out soldier” he cooed, brushing wet fingers across your cheek as you passed out now that you had permission.

He watched you for a while, just content to see the rising and falling of your chest. You had done so well for him. Price arrived at some point, pleased with his report at how the training was paying off. He hadn’t been entirely convinced when Ghost had first suggested you, but as the lieutenant fed his fingers to Gaz to suck the combination of you and Ghost off of them and Soap began gently cleaning you up and stripping you out of your top so he could dress you in clean pyjamas, he was thankful Ghost was a stubborn arse who insisting on training you anyway.

Once you were clean and settled they left the room to let Ghost shower and crawl into his bed next to you, maskless and content with his success, wrapping you up in his arms and enjoying a dreamless sleep.

[thesilmarillionblog]

IN BAD DREAMS

Summary: After having a bad dream, Soldier Boy finds peace in your arms.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: fluff, comfort, soft Soldier Boy, established relationship, sweetness

Word Count: 1260

A/N: English is not my first language.

This one-shot story is inspired by the song 'In Bad Dreams' by Crippled Black Phoenix

⪩ Thank you for 300 followers! This one is for you. I hope you like it. 𓆩♡𓆪

Lost in thought, you sipped the water from your glass, got up from the chair, and headed to Ben's room. Everyone had gone to sleep by midnight, with the exception of you.

Ben and you had not spoken much since this morning, after he found out he had a son who was Homelander. Ben warned you about it and didn't want to discuss it with the rest of the crew. He had been acting more aggressively than usual, so you didn't want to press him to speak. You also didn't want to do anything that might damage your recently formed friendship because you were aware of how fragile his trust issues were.

Cautiously, you sneaked into his room, trying not to make any sort of noise. Although he was sleeping noisily, he didn't appear peaceful at all; instead, he appeared uneasy, as if he were having a nightmare. 

You just mumbled, “Ben?” because he had told you not to touch him while he was sleeping so that he wouldn't grab your arm violently and accidentally hurt you. 

He opened his eyes instantly and looked around, confused. Then your eyes met his emerald ones. He breathed deeply, as though he were relieved, and then extended his wide arms and rubbed his face. 

“What time is it?” he said in a hoarse voice, trying to figure out if it was morning or evening by peering out the window. 

“It's almost morning,” you remarked as you sat on the bed and ran your fingertips over his rough hands. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he inquired, “Why aren't you asleep yet?” 

You held his hand firmly and muttered, “I don't know; I just couldn't sleep. You looked quite uneasy when you were asleep. I’m worried about you, Ben.”

At least try to get him to talk about his dreams because you didn't bring up the Homelander issue and get him to push you away. It was incredibly difficult for him to open up to you. Being a man with PTSD, you knew you had to be patient with him, but you also wanted him to trust you as much as you trusted him. 

He hesitated and said, “Yeah,” as if speaking was difficult. “Just a bad dream.”

With a sympathetic tone, you said, “Again?” and cautiously settled upon the bed. He swiftly proceeded to around you with his powerful arms and planted

solid kiss on your lips before kissing you firmly on your forehead. “What was it about?”

“You.”

“Why do you always see me in bad dreams?” You whispered to him, running your hand over his full beard, and leaned in to feel the warmth of his chest.

With a smile, he said, “I'm not sure. It has become somewhat of a habit these days.”

Assuming he would talk about it this time, you inquired, “What are they about, though?”

His hands came down to rest on your stomach, and his fingers lightly caressed your skin. You also felt he wouldn't want to talk about it, so you kept silent as you measured his expression.

Finally, he stated, “I would never let anything happen to you,” as though he didn't know how to fully open up to you and you understood.

You told him, “I know you won't,” hoping he would realize how much you trusted him and that you also wanted him to have faith in you. “No matter what, nothing that happens will ever be your fault, and I will never hold you responsible for anything. Ben, I need you to fully understand this.”

“Nothing will happen,” Ben said with a rough voice, ignoring what you've just

You nodded to him and sighed. Not sure how to start the conversation, you asked him politely, “How are you feeling about today? About him?” 

You weren't sure if Ben's emotions or ideas about Homelander had changed in light of today's news, even if he was a horrible person—the worst person alive; in fact, he was still Ben's son. In the end, Homelander turned out to be Ben's son. There was no need to be in denial. 

He cut it short, obviously not interested in talking. “I don't know,” he said. “But that changes nothing. That's just not how I pictured myself several decades ago. There were a ton of various possibilities.”

With a heavy heart, you asked, “With Countess?” Even though he killed her, you knew he loved her. Back then, he must have envisioned a life with her and a family. You hated her since she was the cause of his current trust issues.

“You know I don't like talking about such stuff, especially her, right?” He was dissatisfied with your question. Even though he didn't mean to, it still made you upset. 

You said, “Fine,” losing interest and wanting to stop asking questions. 

You made an attempt to break free and gain some distance, but he simply stopped you with an irritated sigh, trapping your body between his strong arms. "Stop moving," he said playfully. “Why did you get sensitive now?” he inquired. 

“I didn't.”

“You sure didn't,” he said, teasing you more and making you laugh with quick tickles to the stomach.

Upon witnessing your afterwards silence, he took a deep breath, uncertain about where to begin. He never felt completely at ease opening up to you, even though you were the easiest person with whom to have a real, sincere talk.

“It's true that decades ago, I had dreams of starting a family with her, but as you have seen, I ended up killing her because she was a cunning, dishonest bitch. I'm not even sure if I really liked her.” At last, he said, “Maybe I just wanted to do what was required of me. Now that it's all over, you can stop feeling jealous.” 

With a clearly deceptive smile, you said, “I'm not jealous.” Your pulse was racing, so you knew he could understand. But his words brought you relief. That was the first time he had told you honestly about how he felt about her. 

You wanted him to want for the same visions with you and to trust you with his life because you knew you would never betray him, but you were unsure of how to show him how much you loved him. If you told him, you were worried he would push you away. That's the reason you haven't brought up the Countess issue until now. It would be best if he just moved on from the past and forgot about it. Whatever had broken inside of him—Countess, his father, Vought, and Payback—you wanted to fix.

You proceeded to brush his bare chest with your hands, whispering, “I just need you to know you can trust me just like I trust you with my life. You are very dear to me. You also need to quit seeing me only in your bad dreams. I have no doubt that a mighty supe like you could even control his dreams.”

Although you are unable to express your affection for him, you can reassure him of your trustworthiness.

He nodded and gave you a small chuckle before playfully remarking, “You talk too much tonight, sweetheart,” without adding anything. “I’m sure that cute mouth of yours can do other things to that mighty supe.”

“Like what?” you said in amusement.

“Like kissing me.”

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A/N: I hope you liked this one. You can check my MASTERLIST for more. ��˚.

[taecherries]

the princess bride | jungkook ( 1 )

synopsis. soon to be betrothed to a neighbourhood kingdom, you escape into the woods toward your freedom. there you find your calling in the hold of a dark and troublesome stranger instead.

pairing. jungkook | you + yoongi | you

genre. royal au, angst, smut, fluff

word count. 1.2k

rating. M

warnings. ❗️so far yn is only angsty about changing her fate❗️

a/n. chapters will be coming out whenever I'm able to post and they may vary in word count greatly ♡

chapters. 1 × 2 × 3

You had been waiting for this little escapade since you’d heard your father announce your marriage to the King of Ilya earlier that day.

The world came tumbling beneath your feet as soon as you heard it. No matter how much you protested your father, the King, was irresolvable. You were not shielded behind your title like your brothers… Unlike the youngest heir of Keirn who wanted nothing to do with the crown besides partying and living it up to his rake title, you would give a finger to rise to the throne. And yet, the oldest of you, your brother Seokjin, who would eventually sit atop of it wanted nothing to do with it as well.

You did not doubt that if you had been announced as a boy as soon as you’d been born your father would have done whatever it took to put you on the throne. He had always favored you. And not because you were a girl, but because Seokjin did not possess the natural leadership you demanded whenever you entered a room, and because Taehyung did not possess the cold heart needed to rule a kingdom.

And yet your father did not think twice before offering you as a form of alliance with the powerful kingdom of Ilya.

He did not think of his daughter but of the kingdom. He put the nation of Keirn first, as you still wage a war with Arden’s great warriors and struggle to advance on territory.

The worst part is as a born ruler you can understand why he made the trade. With Ilya’s help, the unfortunate middle position on the map of your kingdom becomes nothing but a past worry. The soldiers can concentrate on upholding only one side of the borders.

But as a daughter, as a woman of your own, you can’t fathom why your once-loving father would deny you the only thing you ever dreamed of having—your freedom.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the stone walls of the tiny cottage belonging to your secret lover. You met him years before this, thanks to his father’s high-rank position in your dad’s order.

Like his deceased father, Yoongi is also a commander; a general. His scars tell tales of many battles, yet his eyes, the soft ones he has only for you, tell you of everything he wishes your lives could be instead of this. That’s why in your rampant need to escape your newfound obligations, you found yourself atop your trusted horse, riding toward this. Toward him.

The air inside is thick with the sweet scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the fire. Your breath comes in soft, heated gasps as you press yourself against Yoongi. Your fingers tangling in the dark hair you worship, his hands roaming your back, pulling you closer, as your lips meet in a fervent unyielding kiss.

Breaking the kiss you rest your forehead against his, your eyes brimming with determination. “We could leave tonight,” you whisper, filled with hope, much different from the condition you arrived at the cottage. You had been a storm of betrayal and raging tears before Yoongi dwindled everything with his caress and soft-spoken words. “We could escape the castle, make a life for us in the woods… Just the two of us. No one would find us past the clearing.”

Yoongi’s eyes search for yours, his expression a mix you know of too well. Longing and apprehension. You could bet your own eyes were telling the same secrets. “Y/n, your father would never stop looking for you.” His knuckles caress gently your cheeks. “He would send all of the fleet to every damn corner of the kingdom, you know that.”

“They wouldn’t find us. You’re the best at what you do and I—”

“My love,” he pins you down with his eyes. There’s nothing but sadness in them. “You’re now to be-” He stiffens, if only ever slightly. “You’re to be Ilya’s queen. They won’t ever let you go.”

He won’t fight for this, for you. Why won’t he fight for you?

“But we’d be free,” you insist, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Free to be together, to do whatever we want of our lives.”

Yoongi’s eyes close in a thoughtful wish. Maybe his resolve could wave after all. He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time as if trying to pour all of his emotions into this very moment. “I want that more than anything,” he murmurs against your lips. He sighs and eyes you closely before adding, “We’ll have to be smart about it if we’re even to attempt it.”

You smile against his lips.

You didn’t think your heart could possibly be more his, and yet…

A sudden noise from outside breaks your wishful dreams. Your intimate bubble bursts as the unmistakable sound of boots crunching on gravel reaches your ears, followed by the clang of armor.

Yoongi is up in a second, his grip on you tightening as he steps to shield you even if the enemy is still outside the cottage.

“No,” you whisper, your voice trembling. The only person to have ever known about you and your knight in shining armor was Taehyung. If your father’s soldiers were here… “They- They found us.”

Your spirit is crushed.

Not letting you dwell on what could have happened, Yoongi turns to face you, his expression hardened. This wasn’t your Yoongi, this was the general demanding your attention. “You have to go,” he says urgently, his eyes locking into yours with fierce intensity. “I’ll find you. I promise I’ll find you no matter what, but you have to escape. Now, Y/n.”

Tears well up in your eyes. You can’t leave him, you don’t want to. But you learned the same techniques as Yoongi did when little. You know that if you don’t split now they will catch you both. And you also know that it’s your freedom put in jeopardy, not his.

There’s no time to argue.

Yet you do.

“I can’t leave without you-”

His large hands are cupping your cheeks in a second. All of the resolve in the world swirling in his cat-like eyes. “No one will ever set us apart, My love. You’re blood of my blood,”

You are caught by surprise as he chants the words. But there’s no time to spare, and so you finish reciting the vows you know by heart. “…And bone of my bone.” You answer him gently. “I’ll give you my body, that we two might be one.”

“I give you my spirit until our life shall be done.” He finishes with a bittersweet smile.

As you rest your forehead on his cheek, inhaling for one last time everything that he is, he places a cold piece on your palm and a kiss on your temple.

“Please be safe,” you whisper close to his lips, your voice breaking.

Yoongi gives you one last, searing kiss before pushing you towards the back door. “I’ll find you,” he repeats reassuringly.

You can still taste him on your lips as you slip out of the cottage, your heart pounding in your ears as you sprint into the dense forest. Behind you, the sound of soldiers crashing through the door and Yoongi’s defiant shouts fill the air.

You don’t dare look back, trusting in his promise as you disappear into the darkness, praying that once the sun rises yet again, you will be not only reunited but in charge of your fates.

In your palm rests the reassurance.

A silver dagger in the form of a wedding ring.

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