#the others are simply too gory to post
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some contextless highlights
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All Kinds of Trouble
Alfie Solomons x Reader, Fluff, 1.2k words
Warnings: Cursing
A/N: Hi guys!! Ok so maybe hiatus is over? I'm trying to be gentle with myself and not hold myself to high standards in posting schedules. Again, therapy and Bar prep are a lot to handle rn, but I was able to do this little piece! This is based of a request sent in by my sweet friend @jassiefayee !!!! I hope you enjoy this angel!! Anyway, love you all so much! Have an amazing day!
Alfie didn’t find peace in many things. The business and all. Made him toss and turn at night, and in the daylight caused him to explode from the pure idiocy of people around him.
But walks in the park with Cyril? Now that gave him peace. With Cyril by his side, anyone who may have wanted to cause trouble stayed far away. Cyril’s imposing stature and mean looking face kept many men looking to scrap at bay, but little did they know that Cyril was by far the sweetest dog in Camden. And the fresh air did Alfie good. Being out in the park, feeling the breeze, hearing children and birds milling about created a sort of temple for him. A quiet place for him to let his mind rest, talk to himself (or God if he had a particular question), or just hum to the beat of Cyril's paws on the ground. This was his rest. This was his peace.
Now it should be noted, that one of the reasons that Alfie loved this particular park was that it was free of distractions for both him and Cyril. While Cyril was a very sweet and good natured dog who hardly ever caused an unnecessary ruckus, he was still a dog. And dogs have this strange habit, if not fantastic ability, to completely change the course of their owner's life.
So it was during a brisk walk on a fine November day where Alfie was suddenly pulled with all the force of heaven’s angels by Cyril’s lead through the park. And just as quick as he was yanked he was halted, nearly tripping over his boots and coat, and falling into Cyril and what might possibly be one of those treacherous angels.
It had become a relatively new habit for you to take a few moments of your day to sit in the park. Whether strolling, reading, or simply listening to the music of the city, you found the meditative state you entered in the park particularly divine. Spending all day cooped up in the house was not doing anyone any favors, and your mother insisted that you look at the sky, breathe in fresh air, or do something to get your energy out. And you enjoyed the respite from your family’s eyes and ears, and the view you caught of other people’s comings and goings. Often making up stories for the familiar faces that passed your eyes.
You had seen Mr. Solomons and his a dog before. It was hard to miss them. Both imposing. Even if Mr. Solomons wasn’t physically too tall, the air in which he carried himself made him seem absolutely monstrous. And the dog he walked along with came with a silent stature to match. When you mentioned to your mother that Mr. Solomons frequented your park, she all but forbid you to go to the park again. He was dangerous. A brute. Nothing good was associated with him. He was an animal. Damned.
Everyone in Camden had a story about Mr. Solomons. Even if they personally had never met him, they knew someone who knew someone who had crossed his path and suffered greatly. Fewer than those who crossed his path, were the women who had the pleasure of spending an evening with him. Demanding. Particular. Incredibly cross with hardly a smile crossing his firm mouth and creased brow. You had heard them all, many a time. And each time you heard the stories more fantastical and gory and outrageous they became. From the way the neighbors spoke of him, he might has well been an ogre who ate good men for supper. A confidant of the devil himself.
Yet those stories never deterred you from letting your eyes wander over to him when he made his way to the park. Surely observing doesn’t damn one’s soul right? And wondering if stories are true surely cannot condemn. Besides, he was never close enough to truly make a difference. A glance and gaze and thought were all that you experienced with the fearsome King of Camden. Until this afternoon, when that monstrous dog came charging at you with a gleeful and slobbery smile. And for whatever reason you never moved from your seat. You stayed planted on your spot on the bench, waiting for whatever was to come. And your supposed attack was merely a disgusting kiss to the neck and chin from the dog, and happy pants from it as well. It’s master, cursing and bellowing at hundred pound puppy who was uninterested in the threats of its flustered master.
You couldn’t help but giggle at the reddened face of Mr. Solomons, clearly out of breathe from the exertion of the sudden chase. “Mr. Solomons are you quite alright? Do you need to sit?”
“Hmm? No, no don’t worry about me angel, m’fine. This damn dog knows better than to run full force in a park. You alright love? Hope Cyril didn’t scare ya.”
You smiled warmly at him, and he was convinced he must have died in the chase and gone to Heaven. Your sweet eyes and tempting lips all too pretty to be here in Camden. You scratched Cyril’s ears before answering, "Oh no Mr. Solomons, I'm fine. Cyril here is very very sweet."
"Now treacle, I think I'm at a disadvantage. Don't like that at all me. Now how is it yeah, that you know my name and now my dog's name... but I don't get to know your name sweetness?"
With a quirked brow you answer, "Oh Mr. Solomons, everyone knows your name. The ferocious King of Camden, and his demon dog. Lots of tales about you Mr. Solomons.”
Alfie allowed himself a smile at your cheek, “Lots of stories eh? Which one is your favorite?”
“The one where you bested the devil himself in a game of chess and won the keys to hell.”
Alfie made himself comfortable next to you on the bench, making sure that his thigh touched yours, “Is that so? Your mum tell you that little one?”
You shook your head, “No sir. She told me I wasn’t to go near you.”
“And yet here you are, talking to bad men. Tsk tsk tsk. Naughty ain’t you?”
“It’s fun to be naughty sometimes. Don’t you agree Mr. Solomons?”
Alfie couldn’t help but bring his shiny rings to your cheek, taking stock of your face. You never flinched away, keeping fiery eyes locked on his. He hummed a tune you didn’t know, and stated, “There’s an opera tonight at 8. You’ll come with me. Wear something nice.”
“I don’t go to operas with strange men.”
“I don’t go to operas with strange women. Yet here we are sweet. I thought you liked being naughty.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his brazenness. In truth, you couldn’t believe you allowed yourself to get this far. But it was too delicious to let go now. “You’ll pick me up on the corner of 10th and Victoria? At 6pm.”
“Now what will I do with you for two hours before the play treacle?”
You shrugged, “Show me how the King of Camden has a good night.”
Alfie laughed heartily, “Fuck me you really are a bad little thing aren’t you. Alright sweetness, I’ll pick you up there at 6. And let’s see what we can get up to.”
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons x y/n#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic
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Oh goodness! The Megatron’s daughter post has plagued my brain with so many sad ideas! Can you picture how she handles the situation when Megatron got injured after the space bridge explosion? The amount of complicated feelings swirling around seeing him hurt on the medical table like that? And you just know that Starscream is going to take advantage of it in some way: would he use it as a way to bypass Buddy’s authority on the grounds that she is “in no state of mind to lead”? Does he use her grief to manipulate her and influence her actions?
And none of this is even getting into what would happen if she ran into Optimus and the Autobots! Would she resent him based on what she had been told for millions of years? Would he feel guilty for how things have gone for her? So many thoughts and I love the angst
Okay lets do this!
I actually have another request that is similar to this one, so I am dividing the writing into two. This part is centered more around yours, but there are things that are left out for the sake of getting to the other one and completing the story.
If you really love the angst, this one is definitely for you.
Buddy needs a hug after all this is over.
There will be tears
Hope you enjoy!
Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality: Soundwave's Plan
SFW, ANGST, You have been warned!, Mention of wounds and violence, nothing too gory, familial (Soundwave is best uncle), Cybertronian reader
TFP
Soundwave had enough.
His niece’s life was in danger, and he knew well enough that her father wasn’t going to do anything about it.
Megatron’s mission main priority was Prime, not Buddy.
Soundwave could live with that; he swore his loyalty to Megatron after all.
But he also swore to be Buddy’s uncle and default caretaker after… that day…
Soundwave coming to Buddy’s quarters with an energon cube in his servo.
Buddy sleeping on the makeshift desk, face plate on a data pad.
Soundwave placed the cube down and carries Buddy to her berth.
He places the cube by her desk and leaves.
When Megatron did not come back to the Nemesis after the spacebridge and Starscream came back alone, they both knew something happened to the War Lord.
He was surprised to see Buddy try and stay together as she assumed her position as Leader of the Decepticon Army once again.
This face was for the sake of the troops.
Not hers.
It was never about her and her needs.
Soundwave had seen through the cameras, Buddy grieved in silence, she made it her mission to never let anyone of the troops see her in that state, something he hated to see.
It didn’t help much when Starscream started enforcing more of his ideas, taking advantage of Buddy’s state.
Starscream and Buddy in the throne room.
“Starscream are you suggesting that we simply abandon the mining operation just like that?”--Buddy
“Of course, My Lady. It no longer serves us purpose and the mine has been stripped dry. We need to move to the next deposit before the Autobots do.”--Starscream
“And I agree that we need to go to the next one, but you’re suggesting we destroy the mine now. We still have our own down there with our machinery. We cannot leave them. We will not leave them.”--Buddy
“They are expendable—”--Starscream
“Those soldiers are not expendable!”--Buddy
“…You poor thing.”--Starscream
“Excuse me?”—Buddy
Starscream walking slowly towards Buddy, circling her.
“Still thinking we can save everyone don’t we?”--Starscream
“Starscream—”--Buddy
“We can not save everyone Lady Buddy. You know that firsthand don’t you?”--Starscream
“…”—Buddy
Buddy hanging her helm a bit low, avoiding Starscream’s hot glare.
“You let your grief blind your decision making. The Decepticons cannot have such… an impaired leader.”--Starscream
“What are you hinting at Starscream?”--Buddy
“Well, we need a leader with a clear conscious, not one who is barely holding everything together.”—Starscream
Buddy looks up glaring at the Second in Command.
“That’s enough.”--Buddy
“We need a ruthless leader—”—Starscream
Buddy’s servos clench tightly.
“I said enough.”--Buddy
“We need a ruthless Decepticon who can make tough calls, not some useless weakling! What would Megatron—”--Starscream
“ENOUGH!”—Buddy
Silence fills the room.
Buddy servos firmly clenched staring angrily at the Second in Command, who has a smug look on his face.
Buddy vents deeply looking down.
“…We will go to the spot you suggested Starscream, as soon as everyone is back on the Nemesis. No casualties unless necessary.”--Buddy
“BAH! And you call yourself Megatron’s offspring. What a pitiful creature.”--Starscream
Starscream walks out of the throne room leaving Buddy there alone, looking at the floor with tears filling up her optics.
The comments about her not being mentally fit for the role of leader were passed around the Nemesis like energon rations.
Soundwave knew about it.
Everyone knew about it.
But barely anyone said anything about it, as most chose to stay loyal to Buddy.
Not out of fear for Megatron potentially returning, but because they liked Buddy.
She made sure everyone who went on the scouting missions were accounted for and that they were fed.
She cared for them.
Buddy in the med bay with Knockout and breakdown with some wounded Vechicons.
“What’s the report Knockout?”--Buddy
“Nothing too bad. It looks worse than what it is.”--Knockout
Buddy holding the servo of the Vechicon Knockout was working with.
“Really?”--Buddy
The Vechicon squeezed her servo a bit.
“True. I’ll be out of here soon enough!”--Steve
Buddy squeezes a bit before letting go.
“Don’t go back to the heavy work immediately, work with smaller lighter things before going back.”--Buddy
“I’m the doctor here Buddy.”--Knockout
“And I’m unofficially a nurse. Am I wrong doctor?”--Buddy
“…”--Knockout
“She’s got you there Knockout.”--Breakdown
“Shut it!”--Knockout
When Megatron came back to the Nemesis alive, it was the first time in a while that he had seen Buddy light up with joy.
Her father was alive.
Her father was alive.
Megatron walking into the main room with Starscream by his side.
The room is filled with most of the Decepticons welcoming their leader back.
Buddy starts running towards her father.
“Megatron! Megatron you’re back!”--Buddy
Buddy picking up her pace a bit with open arms ready to hug him.
“I mis—”--Buddy
SLAM!
Buddy’s limp body is now on the other side of the room.
A slash is across her chassis, not too deep, but a good amount of energon was drawn.
Megatron’s saber glinting with Buddy’s energon.
Everyone is frozen in place not quite understanding what just happened.
He spares one glance.
“Pitiful. Everyone! Back to work!”--Megatron
He leaves the room with Starscream hot on his heels.
As soon as they both leave Soundwave and Knockout are by Buddy’s side as Breakdown and Steve try to keep the other worried Vechicons at bay.
“We need to get her to the med bay. It looks bad. Breakdown--”—Knockout
“Got it.”--Breakdown
Breakdown gently picks up Buddy as some of the crowd goes to follow Buddy while the others linger before going back to their own business.
Soundwave stands still in the place where Buddy went limp.
Snap!
Megatron hit her without cause.
This was not training.
This was done with malicious intent.
He would honestly understand it more if Buddy was a Starscream, the punishment would have been seen as fair.
But Buddy was not Starscream.
She was by far one of the most loyal Decepticons there had ever been.
Yet he discarded her like trash.
Soundwave had enough.
Megatron was going to offline his own daughter if he didn’t do anything about it.
Thus, The Plan was created.
He knew this was extremely risky and relied heavily on luck, but he gambled with worse odds. This was something he was willing to work with
It killed Soundwave to see Buddy losing more and more of herself as the training sessions became longer and the wounds were becoming more and more severe.
Breakdown and Knockout walking by the storage sectors and training hall.
BANG!
“AGAIN!”—Megatron
Knockout and Breakdown hiding near a corner outside the training room.
“Please, I can’t—”--Buddy
SLAM!
“AGAIN!”--Megatron
“Megatron—”--Buddy
BAM!
Knockout flinches a bit.
Breakdown puts a servo on Knockout’s shoulder while the other one was clenched.
“AGAIN!”--Megatron
“MEGATRON, PLEASE!”--Buddy
BANG!
Knockout grabs one of Breakdown’s servo tightly hearing the loud sound.
Breakdown squeezes his optics shut as if he were in pain.
“AGAIN!”--Megatron
“FATHER, PLEASE!”--Buddy
SLAM!
“AGAIN ORION!”—Megatron
“I AM NOT ORION!—“Buddy
SLICE!
Silence.
“…oh Primus… you don’t think…”--Breakdown
SLAM!
Megatron exits the training room angry.
No Buddy to be seen.
Soundwave comes out of nowhere sprinting to the training room.
Knockout and Breakdown follow.
Soundwave on his knees holding an extremely injured Buddy.
“Help—Buddy!”--Soundwave
Buddy needed to leave the Nemesis.
And Optimus Prime was his last hope.
He was her last hope.
Now time to wait for the next part!
#transformers x reader#maccadam#bot buddy#tfp#tfp x reader#tfp soundwave#tfp soundwave x platonic reader#tfp megatron#tfp knockout#tfp breakdown#tfp steve
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I saw your post about wanting to write more in-depth fluff and I have this moment I have thought about for so long that I can’t wait for it to happen with a partner! So…I was thinking the reader gets home from work one day before either Sam or Colby (either works great you choose! Or both we won’t judge👀) and she’s baking in the kitchen after a somewhat stressful day and so when they come home they see her in the kitchen and watch her for a minute before getting her attention and then they come up and hug her from behind and then their song starts playing in her speaker and they start to slow dance in the kitchen together!! (I am so extremely sorry if this is too long I just think about this moment wayyyyyyy too much!)
Summary: you had just finished an almost 10 hour shift at the restaurant, that you worked at whilst you patiently waited for your music career to take off. You expected Colby to be waiting for you seen as you were 4 hours later than expected, but when you arrived home to an empty house, starving and exhausted, your sadness finally tipped over the edge.
WARNINGS: NO SMUT! just pure fluff and Colby cuteness🥺
REQUESTS OPEN!!
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It was late on a Saturday night, your feet burned and your head pulsated as you stepped out of your car. Being understaffed in a restaurant on a Saturday was truly the worst nightmare for anyone in the hospitality business. So being asked to stay until the close after your shift had ended, was something you’d much rather not be doing. But ‘money… money for my music’ was all that ran through your head.
As you made your way across the driveway to the front door, you were too tired to notice that Colby’s car was not there. You thought about his arms wrapping around you and how in a few moments, everything would feel so much better.
As you stepped into the homely decorated hallway, you called out loudly, “baby, I’m home!” You kicked off your shoes, putting them neatly on the rack as there was no reply. You looked around confused as you took off your jacket. “Colbs?” You waited, still no reply. As you walked into the main sitting room it wasn’t long before you accepted the fact that you were alone. You sighed as you felt your eyes burn and your heart pound. You knew that you needed to cry. To let it all out. But your stifling headache and exhausted muscles physically didn’t have the energy anymore. You wanted a shower, you felt disgusting but your stomach growled louder than a scared wolf, desperately in need of food.
You headed into the kitchen, and stopped still. Looking around at the moderately clean surfaces. You felt as though your thought process was damaged from the stress of that evil shift. You took a deep breath before speaking clearly, “Alexa…” the device quickly flashed blue, “play y/f/m.” As Alexa confirmed and your favourite music began to play through the small speaker, you thought it might make you feel better… as much as it helped, you still felt like you wanted to tuck into a ball and stay there forever.
your stomach rumbled one last time, snapping you out of your spinning thoughts, you quickly headed to the refrigerator taking out the ingredients to make gory favourite dinner. You even collected double the ingredients just in case Colby was hungry when he got home.
As you stood at the stove, your eyes desperately wanting to pour, your weight balance constantly shifting from one foot to the other due to the burning pain on your soles, you stirred the homemade sauce as it thickened with each turn. The front door opened but the music drowned out the sound as you became oblivious to the arrival of Colby.
He walked into the kitchen, stopping at the doorway a smile plastered across his face as he watched you nod your head to the beat, your arm clinging to the silicone spatula as it rotated around the pan. There was nothing he loved more than to see you, especially when you don’t see him, simply doing absolutely anything. You reached to side, without looking, as you picked up your wine glass taking a sip as you sighed. Colby knew you only drank wine before your dinner if you’d had a bad day. Suddenly, you reached your arm back out as you went to place the wine glass back down, but once again your eyes stayed on your sauce and as the glass touched the worktop, you let go, but as you pulled your arm away, your tired hands hadn’t released fully as you knocked it over. Your wine spilling across the worktop, catching you by surprise as you finally snapped, “oh for fuck sake!” You shouted loudly as you stepped back on the verge of tears.
“Oh baby!” Colby chuckled as he ran to the rescue. You jumped out of your skin, unaware of his presence as you spun around quickly, “fuck Colby! You scared me!” You said without a chuckle in return. Colby noticed the distress on your voice as he reached you, taking the paper towels from your hand as you tried to hold back tears. He looked at you concerned as you took a deep breath.
“Thank you.” You said softly as you continued stirs g your sauce. You wanted to explode, but knew it wouldn’t be fair on Colby to have to deal with a meltdown, and you physically didn’t think you had the energy to breakdown.
After Colby finished cleaning up the wine, he quickly grabbed the bottle without saying another word and refilled your glass. You felt guilty for snapping at him, you just felt like you couldn’t take anymore today. You couldn’t look at him as you whispered softly, your voice cracking with each word, “I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“No need to be sorry.” He said as he filled up your glass. Your eyes stayed glued to the pan as you stirred over and over again. Suddenly you felt Colby hands snake around your waist as his head appeared next to yours, his chin on your shoulder and his arms holding you tightly. For the first time tonight you shoulders relaxed slightly. You were right, being his arms did make things feel that little bit better.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Colby asked his voice riddled with concern.
You sighed as your lip quivered, your voice struggling to squeeze out afraid of opening the flood gates, “just had a stressful day.” You said. Colby’s heart broke at the sound of sadness in your voice.
“Oh baby.” Colby said as he gave you squeeze and turned his head to kiss your cheek. His warm lips and tight grip helping you calm your heart rate.
“My head hurts, my legs hurt, my feet hurt…” you whined slightly as Colby continued to kiss your neck and your cheek. Suddenly, yours and Colby’s song began to play. Colby couldn’t help but smile as he began to sway you back and forth.
“Well… do you wanna know why I weren’t home?” Colby said with a chuckle. Your body finally started to relax slightly as you both swayed to the music, your hand still stirring the sauce.
“I’m all ears baby,” you said as your lips finally curved slightly into a small smile.
“I was out shopping… I figured you’d been asked to stay late and after 2 hours and still no sign of you, I thought you might like to have a special night.” He said with so much love on his voice.
You turned you head to look at him, your eyebrows frowning confused, “what do you mean?”
Colby spun you to face him, “I got you a new bath bomb… your favourite.” Your face lit up as he spoke, “and some candles…” you bit your lip in excitement thinking of where your night was headed. Colby grabbed your arms pulling them away from your spatula.
“Baby! I need to cook!” You said with a chuckle.
“There it is!” Colby said excitedly as he began to dance with you, your eyes glued to his as you could see all of the love in his eyes, “that beautiful smile.”
You couldn’t help but smile wide. He always managed to make you feel better, without you even knowing just how he does it. You quickly leaned in, giving his a sweet kiss, your lips pressed together. “I love you.” You said honestly as you pulled back slightly. “Thank you… for everything.”
Colby smiled wider as he leaned down kissing you softly once more, “I love you more baby… you don’t have to thank me. I will forever do whatever I can to make my girl happy.” Colby suddenly spun you around as you laughed. As you landed back in his arms he quickly dipped you down, his lips quickly reconnecting with yours. As he pulled back he looked into your eyes, your leg still in this air as he held you up, “there one more surprise baby…” he said with a smirk.
He quickly stood you up as walked away, back into the hallway, leaving if you watching confused. You quickly turned back to your sauce to ensure it wasn’t burning. Your eyes still watching the door for his return. Soon enough, Colby appeared with the biggest bunch of flowers in his hand.
“Your favourite.” He said with a proud look on his face.
“How did I get so lucky?” You giggled as you couldn’t fight a yawn.
Colby laughed as he walked over to you, leaning across to kiss you on your cheek. “The real question is…” Colby said with a smirk, “is there enough of that for dinner me too? Because damn, it looks so good.”
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#sam and colby#smut#fanfiction#colby#colby brock#propertyofyoutube#colby brock dirty#colby brock fanfic#colby brock smut#colby brock imagines#colbybrock#colby smut#colby x reader#colby brock one shot#colby brock x y/n
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hey!! could i get itto and a few other characters x traveler reader headcannons?? :D
like reader often does missions similar to the traveler, and maybe comes back hurt on one of them? :]
Hii!! Ofc, thank you for the request ^—^ these were so much fun to write (oh also reader is a resistance soldier in Gorou’s, not a traveller, I hope that’s okay!)
Characters: Itto, Kaeya, Gorou, Diluc (blatant favouritism towards Diluc in this one eeek)
Warnings: slightly gory descriptions of injury/blood, maybe a lil angsty but mostly hurt/comfort yaknow, gn!reader
Feel free to request something, check my pinned post for details!
Inazuma felt different when you weren’t around; Itto had been waiting for weeks for you to return from a mission overseas, and with every day that passed his frustration and desparation only grew, so the moment he heard that you had returned at last, he almost tripped over himself in his rush to see you. It was only when he noticed the grim look on Kuki’s face that he halted, confused. Gently, she informed him that you weren’t in the best condition right now, and suddenly the eager feeling in his stomach was replaced with a cloying knot of fear. Without another word, Itto took off at a sprint and didn’t stop or slow until he was by your bedside, engulfing you in a bearhug faster than the healer could stop him and rambling nonsensically about how happy he was to have you home. His heart pounded where your temple was pressed against his solid chest, and his oni blood tingled with relief now that he knew you were safe, albeit more scraped up than he would like, and back in Inazuma where he can protect you. He vowed, his voice shaking a little pitifully, that no matter how long your recovery may take, he would be by your side, and Itto always kept his promises to you. Every day, he brought foods and drinks helpfully sourced by Thoma, and spent hours sitting with you, either fussing over your bandages with worry pinching his brow or desperately goofing around just to see you laughing instead of in pain.
Evening was just beginning to settle over Mondstadt and the Cavalry Captain was on his way to Angels’s Share to warm a barstool for the remainder of the night when Noelle came running through the cobbled streets towards him, eyes panicked and gasping for breath. In a single rush of breath, she informed him that you had been found, unconcsious and bleeding profusely, outside of the city, and that a few knights had already taken you to Barbara. Familiar frigid cold engulfed Kaeya’s body, and all thoughts of bothering Diluc were wiped from his mind as all he could think of was you, whether you would be okay, whether he would get to hear your sweet voice again. With a short word of thanks to Noelle, he turned on his heel and climbed the stairs to the Cathedral quickly, as though to outrun the dread that nipped at his heels with every step. When he finally laid eyes on you, bruised and bandaged but awake and smiling weakly at Barbara, an involuntary sigh of relief escaped him. For a moment he stayed where he was and simply watched you, feeling the fear loosen its fierce grip on his heart gradually with every second that passed. Of course, he would have to tease you about your inability to dodge attacks aimed at you, but that could wait a few days at least. For now, he would be at your every beck and call, spoiling and pampering you as he felt you deserved until you recovered from your injuries- and then maybe a little while longer too, until Kaeya stops beating himself up for not being able to prevent your injuries.
As a soldier in the Watatsumi Army, you were bound to get injured sometimes; Gorou just hated that he had watched it happen, seen the sword slash the air as though in slow motion before it caught you in the ribs, leaving a deep gash in its wake. A scream tore from his throat at the same time as you let out a yell of pain, and suddenly his legs were carrying him across the battlefield to you, arms wrapping around you to prevent you from hitting the ground. As the battle raged on around him, he carried your weak body to the healer, muttering words of apology as you complained of the pain when his trembling hand pressed to your wound, applying pressure in the hopes of slowing the bloodflow. Even as the healer worked, the general clasped one of your hands in both of his and waited resolutely, only his pinned-back ears hinting at the fear that had seized his heart the moment he saw you in danger. Once you’re stable, Gorou does his best to put on a stern expression and chastise you for being reckless, but his voice shook too much and his hands clasped yours too tightly; you felt the anxiety and fear radiating from him, and squeezed his hand back in a subtle display of comfort. For weeks, Gorou insisted that you rest and avoid battle until you were fully recovered, much to your irritation; he knew that he was being ridiculous and overprotective, trying to prevent you from fighting for the resistance, but the general simply couldn’t handle seeing you get injured, and he would do anything he could to prevent it from happening again.
Diluc was plenty familiar with how the deep redness of blood marred his hands, staining the skin no matter how hard he scrubbed it away, and the sight of your blood was no different. Despite having scrubbed his hands until the skin was raw and pink, the ghost of your blood still glistened sickeningly in the shadowy, candlelit hallway that Diluc paced as he waited for the doctor to finish tending to you. The sun was beginning to rise over the Winery, and the Darknight Hero had not yet slept; just a few short hours ago he had found you among the remains of a hilichurl camp, barely conscious and with hot, dark blood soaking through your clothes. The events that followed had gone by in a whirlwind of panic; strong, gloved hands pressed against your wounds and familiar lips whispered pleas for you to stay with him, stay conscious, stay alive. But now, there was nothing left for the man to do but wait until he could see you; so, he paced. Back and forth, back and forth, right outside the only door that obstructed you from his view. Every so often he stopped, fists clenched tight, and fixed the wooden obstacle with a fierce glare, as though hoping it would simply shrivel up and move out of his way; when it finally swung open, Diluc steeled himself for bad news, but was elated to instead hear that you were stable. Letting out a deep breath, he sent the doctor away and stepped, slightly hesitantly, into the bedroom- the bedroom that you would not be leaving for at least two weeks, upon the doctor’s orders. It was, however, upon Diluc’s orders that you were treated like royalty for those two weeks, supplied with all of your favourite meals and all kinds of small gifts that Diluc insisted on buying for you, while a maid waited by your door at all times in case you needed anything. It was the least Diluc felt he could do, after he had failed to keep you safe from harm- a failure he would ensure never happened again.
#itto x reader#kaeya x reader#gorou x reader#diluc x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact fanfics#arataki itto#kaeya alberich#general gorou#diluc ragnvindr
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I decided to just post fanfiction here as well as on AO3, instead of just posting updates here. So here's the one fic I made so far.
Pure Chaos
ch1 Not dead
Astarion x male durge fanfic
Warnings: to this chapter.. none, I guess
Summary: After being abducted by alien squids, Nerah doesn't remember a thing from his past life apart from his name. He will do anything to remember, but first it would be best to get rid of the parasite in his head.
words: 1463
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He should be dead, he should, but he wasn't. The ground was truly under him and no blood in sight. Or well, not his own. They have... landed the ship. Nerah woke up in the still fresh crash site and it smelled awful. The sun was shining, water flowing and smoke floating in the air. Not any worse from yesterday, honestly. Possibly even better. Yet he was still in unfamiliar territory.
He finally stood up despite the ache in his back from sleeping on the ground. Who knew how much time passed, though he wasn't about to figure that out. There was nothing in his head, no memory before the nautiloid, only the urge to stab something. Unfortunately there didn't seem to be anything to stab other than corpses.
Nerah casually started to loot the dead bodies, stopping for a second to admire a particularly gory one, his tail happily wagging behind him. He recognized one of them as the woman from the ship, the strange artifact was still in her hand and he reached out for it, without much thought.
"What are you doing?" He quickly withdrew. Oops, not a corpse.
"You looked quite dead." It was said in a rather casual and matter-of-factly way. Nerah didn't mind being honest, why would he.
"I assure you that I am not." Shadowheart wasn't amused, but who would be after being mistaken for a very dead person. "Not yet."
The thought of piercing her with a dagger dashed through his mind, he wanted to stab someone after all. Despite how lucky he was until now, it wouldn't be the best idea to try his luck any further. "Any idea where we're now?"
"I don't recognize this place, but it's an improvement on where we just came from." There was no arguing with her logic. "First things first, we need supplies, shelter and most of all a healer. There are still these little monsters in our heads."
"Aren't you a cleric?" Upon further thought, he realized that this is indeed something that a mere cleric may not deal with. On the other hand.. "Wait, did you say 'we'?"
"We need each other and we both know what's at stake. I couldn't think of better company." No matter how unbelievably it would sound, Nerah wanted to say that he didn't need her. But he knew nothing about those worms and squids.
"Alright. Let's go."
"Before we go. I wanted to thank you again for freeing me." He wanted to casually brush it off, but in fact Nerah did think about leaving her there. "It would've been all too easy to run past my pod, but you didn't. I'll remember that." She gave him a grateful look, which he honestly didn't care about. "Lead the way."
Nerah froze in place for a while. He didn't expect to be the one to lead her, he didn't know where to lead her. But eventually Nerah simply walked the way he didn't come from, which was so far only leading one way. Until the paths devided, but upon arriving at a locked door, he chose the other way.
It led right to the crashed nautiloid, the terrible smell intensified and Nerah noticed the brain creatures, realizing that they were about to attack. Shadowheart realized that as well and prepared her weapon, just as he grabbed his quarterstaff. He was excited with the anticipation of a fight. Exactly what he needed to sate the dark desires.
His first spell hit the target, a firebolt. The creature let out a piercing screech. Shadowheart hit one with a guiding bolt, killing it. Before they could attack again, one of the things came too close to Nerah, it's life ended with the hit of a quarterstaff. The impact resulted in a disgusting squelching sound that made Nerah grin with bizarre satisfaction. Last one died quickly, this fight lasted too short for Nerah's liking.
At least his magic didn't escape his grasp this time. Unlike on the nautiloid, where he lost control while fighting imps and his magic acted on it's own. That wasn't an ideal situation. Nerah wondered if it was always like that. Will his memory ever return? There was silence for the time being, only interrupted by a distant voice. Until a moment of realization.
"Do you hear that?" He asked while trying to figure out a source of the voice. Shadowheart gave effort to listening for anything only now.
"You're going there, aren't you?" She replied after Nerah finally found the right direction. He scoffed with a murmured 'of course not', then went forward. In the direction of the voice. Leaving Shadowheart to roll her eyes and follow after him.
There atop a hill was an admirable looking elf. He would make such a beautiful corpse. Nerah got lost in thought, imagining all the wonderfully awful ways he could disfigure him. His pondering was, however, interrupted by the center of his thoughts himself.
"I've got one of those brain things cornered." One and cornered, that was the perfect opportunity to fully enjoy killing it. He would love to sink a dagger into the tender flesh of this absurd brain with legs. Nerah briefly revisited the memory of the squelch as he hit one of them, it was truly euphoric. "You can kill it can't you? Like you killed the others."
He didn't even waste time replying. After pushing the distressing damsel away - or rather damsel in distress - Nerah made his way to where the elf was pointing.
Something was rustling in the bushes as he waited in anticipation to dash forward and slice one juicy brain with his dagger. The mentioned weapon was already in his hand, that familiar weight of thin sharp steel and black leather adorned with elegant rubies. It was a masterwork, ready for the art of murder. Made to carve, slice and stab, until the body couldn't be recognized anymore. Yet despite the anticipation, all that came out was a boar. He was disappointed, before a dagger that wasn't his own appeared at his throat. The unexpected movement startled him and Nerah reflexively jumped back, knocking both of them to the ground.
This little series of events resulted in two surprised idiots rolling on the ground, but one idiot recovered earlier and so Nerah had a dagger at his throat once again. The pale elf was dangerously close to his... everything. "Not a sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours."
For the first time in the life he remembers, Nerah has been threatened. It was dangerous, unusual, exciting. There was something great in the thrilling act of being threatened, Nerah would remember this moment to the end of times.
"And you, keep your distance, no need for this to get messy." His words reminded Nerah that Shadowheart existed and was still here. Despite the minor annoyance of being interrupted during such intimate moment, he liked the word messy in every way. They exchanged a few words that Nerah didn't care about, before the nice elf turned his attention to him again. "I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod."
Nerah did nod, even though he wasn't paying much attention to the question, it feeled unnecessary. He didn't even realize that he was smiling like a madman, but did notice that the elf looked uncomfortable, which he wasn't sure why. Before anything more could happen, there was that mind connecting again.
It happened with Shadowheart and the gith he didn't remember the name of, while on the ship. Now it was happening again. He looked upon the streets of a city. The place was familiar, but memories of his past were still shrouded with shadow, therefore Nerah couldn't say why it was familiar. For a moment he saw light and felt a flash of fear, then the elf's memory faded from his mind. The pale beauty seemed more uneasy than ever before. "What was that."
Nerah wondered if he saw something that he himself didn't remember, perhaps there'll be time to find out later. "The tadpole, I suppose. It connects us."
"They took you too. I saw it during... whatever just happened." The disturbed expression clearly gave off the message that he saw more than that. "And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies."
Nerah already liked this guy. "No need. I can't say my mind didn't wander in similar places. Anyway. I'm glad we settled this... this."
"Indeed." Whatever the elf saw in Nerah's mind, he got over it. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Astarion. I was in Baldur's Gate when those beasts snatched me."
Nerah smiled in his usual madman way. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Nerah."
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on AO3
Thank you very much for reading ❤️
next chapter
#bg3 fanfiction#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#astarion x durge#astarion#astarion x male reader#aide writes
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Hi could u please do the reactions of yandere mob boss Spain, America, Germany, South and North Italy if their wife (who had no idea what their husband did for a living) found out about them being mob bosses and that they were yanderes? The s/o witnessed them killing their friend and took her and his kids and left to another country to hide from him. Thanks!
Oh look 5am posting shenanigans 🤣
America
‘You’ve been meddling in y/n’s personal life for far too long. It’s time you learn that you don’t meddle in our affairs.” A resounding ring of a bullet being fired rings out into the night time air.
Nothing moved. The world stood still for a moment as Y/N’s best friend had been taken away from this world forever……
Y/N had witnessed the entire scene play out….from Alfred’s control room. One of many that existed within his worldwide underground contraband empire. All they could do was slump into the large office chair as she watched the crimson continue to pour out onto the concrete floor like a river. Just like the tears that had sprung to your eyes they wouldn’t stop anytime soon.
Guards moved into the room and cleaned up the gory scene to make it look like the execution had never taken place. Your hand crept up to your face in a vain effort to comfort you & prevent it from ruining your make-up. You would have to peer up into those cold blooded killers eyes for dinner that night and have some passionate moments.
“Sir, someone is in your viewing room in your NY villa.” You heard someone say over the sound system. The dirty blonde simply nods his head unbothered. Your entire nervous system set a shockwave through your entire body. From your head to your toes your muscles had already begun the motion to jump and hide. However the chair beneath you had other plans.
Heavy metal clinged to your ankles, waist, and wrists. You let out a terrified screech. The multiple screens that displayed various places of operation all converged into one to create his face glowering down at you with distinct disappointment staring straight into your heart.
You had a torrential storm of emotions ragging in the pit of your stomach making your head and heart agree that you were petrified. Bright blues stared intently at you.
“Y/N what am I going to do with you?”
Eventually…after so much mental anguish that Alfred put you through …you became smart enough to act and feign being under his grip. You prepared enough to escape him. You obtained an offshore bank account in Switzerland. You had burner phones. You had well made passports for you and your children to get through any airport security. You thought of everything.
Germany
“Consider your days meddling in my private affairs with Y/N Frau (last name of BFF)” without a second to think about anything else his large gloved hand pulls the trigger. From then a pained wailing noise would not cease. The victim squirmed, thrashed, and struggled against the boa constrictor like restraints against the metal chair that was in his taunting steely blue eyes. He fired a bullet towards the feet of his prey. Ludwig had a point to make…if you disobeyed him, showed the slightest bit of defiance, there would be hell and bloodshed that would douce the ground for miles around.
Everything would be idyllic between the two of you. If you didn’t have friends that were so intent on meddling in your life and making things difficult for the two of you to grow closer as lovers. He stalked closer and closer towards his prey savoring the fear in their eyes like currywurst. The reverberating sound of hellish shrieks continued to hammer against the steel and concrete walls. The German man came to a full stop in front of the shaken deer of a person. His bulky figure towered over you and that's when your voice was stifled instantly when you caught a glimpse of his sadistic smile. Nothing on earth would be able to save you from his wrath in both your daily routine and in bed.
“Mein Liebling…” even though his voice was soft and not loud. It sounded like thunder to you…it didn’t help ease your trembling. “Don’t ever try to escape … it will always end badly for you and anyone involved.” He forces your chin to look at your friend's lifeless body that was soaked in blood. After a few moments he concentrates your attention to his cold gaze.
“Looks like I’ll have to retrain you on how to be the perfect spouse for me.”
Northern Italy
“Oh rigazza/riggazo , they weren’t important, they were trying to harm you.” He has a supportive hand on your back, in an attempt to sooth you after you just received news that your friend was killed in a fatal car accident. They passed immediately on impact.
You’d been inconsolable for 3hrs since learning the news and nothing for a long while would stop an ocean from forming in your apartment.
Feliciano was good at pretending to be sympathetic towards your predicament but your friend's planned death gave him a greater advantage over you. They were the last of the close knit connections you had while you were abroad and away from your family. They were one of the last people that you could confide in about your deeper fears about Feliciano that wouldn’t make it back to his ears. The man has a variety of different connections to you and your inner circle. He knew how to make sure that the truth would not reach your ears.
The current lie that he was trying to comfort you with was how they were jealous of your new life that you got to have while dating him. He’d been working on this lie for a few months now and it wasn’t working in the way he liked. It didn’t drive you away from your best friend but closer, and farther away from Feliciano.
He couldn’t continue to allow that so he had to come up with a plan. He began to give you space as you requested. And like any boyfriend candidate he went to work on how to best plan out the accidental death of your friend while plotting to become your only source of support. He created a hole within you and you’d be vulnerable enough to let him fill it. He will spin you into a fantasy that will make you forget that you ever needed anyone else in the world. He will lead you to believe that he is your prince and that what happened was all a bad nightmare.
Southern Italy
“There there, amore mio, I’m sorry but it had to be done. They were telling you lies about me and poisoning your mind.” His hands were resting on the back of your chair. He had a mirror set-up so that it could see you two framed together. A vision of a perfect couple, minus the blood and bodies that surrounded the two of you almost forming a demented ciricle of sorts.
You didn’t understand how someone who had the visage of an angelic gentleman but underneath all of the shimmering dazzle you allowed your shaded gray wings to be entranced by the phoenix.
Only sobs came out to give Lovino the reply he was waiting for. He places his head on top of yours so he can inhale the shampoo you’d used that morning. Lovino isn’t one to let go once he;s grown attached and fond of someone. You are no exception. As he exhales slowly you can smell the mint and aftershave mix reaching your nostrils. Even though you were used to him being calm, an air filled with sulfur could best describe the mood. One wrong statement you now know could set him off and more people whom you cared about would be off and more people whom you cared about would be in the wake of his fiery wrath.
Lovino quietly tries to hush you. “Shhh~ it’s okay y/n. If you don’t make matters more difficult for me today then we can go somewhere nice for dinner and I won't have you in chains…” He slides his hands towards yours and you do your best not to flinch at the sight of his blood covered hands. By now you nose was already accustomed to the smell of iron that coated the air like a freshly painted bedroom. 5-6 more tears break through your petrified (eye color) orbs. You desperately wanted out … a reset so you could unravel your recent life choices that led you to Lovino. Had you known all the things he was capable of and knew that he was a mafia boss well known in Italy you wouldn’t have been smitten with him.
However, it’s difficult to not be charmed by an Italian, they’re known for having avid sparks that refuse to be extinguished. You felt a light squeeze on your tethered hands. He was expecting a verbal reply soon. The air was becoming thicker with impatience, you could hear the beginning of an irritated growel that began to form in his diaphragm.
You decided that the best way to handle him was to douce the match that was already a light with your enduring sorrow that produced tears potent enough to overpower his budding rage. As the water flowed you barely managed to choke out.
“I love you Lovino.”
Spain
“Mi Amore what do you mean? You were having a bad night and had too much of France’s wine! That’s all! You know his wine tends to make you a little crazy. Come let's go somewhere for a walk in the moonlight.”
He wants to smooth over the small incident of you witnessing your male best friend being tortured in a burtal way before ultimately hsi life came to an abrupt end. One of his newer recruits let you slip away. You had followed the guidance of the sinking feeling in your gut to discover that your lover was not the simple carefree Spainard that you’d come to love deeply.
You were never 100% sure of how far out into the ocean's current of which you’d been dragged and with Antonio’s masterful undermining of your perception it is impossible for you to escape him and his influence. He flooded your mind with lies. To him your position in life was ina beautiful sea, to you it felt like you were in a waterlogged grave site. It would continue to fill with the bodies of your loved ones until you stopped fighting him. However, the thought of him still in your life still left you filled with rage. He was a murder… a monster… a mobster.
Yet for some reason you still had your doubts. Not that you really had the headspace to think through much of anything he said to you. Antonio always made sure that you were moderately inebriated with the finest wines to take the edge off your “damaged” personality. You tried not to think about his comments too much after all ….no he was bad! Right? Right?!
“Y/N come with me. Don’t be a stick in the mud. Come let's take a shot of strawberry tequila and head to the beach tonight. I think maybe turtles we can see!” Trying to sound more enticing and it would be nice to not exist in the same building …. Where you think your friends and some close family’s bodies are…. Or….
“Ready?” He brings you a teal and gold 2 ounce shot glass practically filled to the brim. Some of the droplets fall on your soft (s/c) and subconsciously you flinch…. You knew this liquid would be your best escape …. Even if only temporary.
The Aftermath (When you decide to Escape)
America
Eventually after so much mental anguish, you became smart enough to escape him and feign being under his grip before you enacted your grand master plan. You prepared enough to escape him; you had an offshore bank account in Switzerland. You had burner phones, well-made passports for you and your twin girls. You thought of everything that you’d need …but the first few moments before you would start your journey to a small nation. As your heart raced for the exit your body was set into overdrive.
You’ll manage to get to the destination safely but all the while you feel his cold blues on you like infrared beams. You were grateful that your twins were only 2 months old. It was risky doing what you did …your life will never know peace because those blues will never truly lose track of you.
Germany
What you did to escape wasn’t well thought out or well planned. You simply made sure your husband Ludwig was passed out cold from the excessive amount of Nyquil you mixed into his food. You knew you;d need some time to improvise an intelligent plan to save yourself and your two boys (3) and (7) .
“Mutti was passiert?'' ``Warum erwache spät in der Nacht? Your eldest son questions you, also showing off what his father has been teaching him.
“Alles klar aber….. ``Es ist volkstümliche Spiel, verstecke dich und gehe suchen.”
Like America he’s not going to take this act of defiance laying down for long once he wakes up. I hope you’re already in hiding once he wakes up. However you weren’t prepared for your 7 year old to be Ludwigs informant at such a young age.
N. Italy
The fantasy you were living in has been shattered again when Felician o lost his temper during dinner while your daughter (5) months was asleep in her tower that daddy built just for her. A maid you’d become good friends with while you were caged was caught in the line of fire as he let out his frustrations. Your memories of your friend who was trying to warn you of the evil that was camouflaged within the depths of his soul, but always lurking came flooding back to you. You knew that you had to continue to pretend to be living within the fantasy until you could find the rabbithole that led you back to a sane reality.
S. Italy
It was another lukewarm Autumn night overlooking the Mediterranean sea. Y/N had her 4 month old wrapped in a reddish brown blanket while a pacifier bobbed up and down in rhythm with amber eyes identical to their father. She rushed through the idyllic cobblestone streets as she hopped into a small yacht of sorts where she sped off into the night. She hoped the void like waves will shield her from being discovered, from her deranged mafia lover.
Spain
After almost losing your life while giving birth to your son… Your brush with death made you realize that you had to get your shit together. It was 13:00 and siesta time. It was the perfect time to enact your plan and put it into motion. “ (Sons name) lets go! Do you have the three of your favorite toys and the other things we talked about right?”
“Si mama!” You little boy chirps back at you. You were going to chill at Disneyland with an au-pair while you worked out the finer details with a lawyer and security guards that have sworn to help you evade Antonio for awhile.
#hetalia#hetalia fandom#hws#hws america#headingalaxys writes stuff#headingalaxys#yandere hetalia#alfred f jones#lineart#hidekaz himaruya#yandere romano#yandere spain#yandere germany#yandere america headcannons#yandere america x reader#yandere america#yandere italy#hetalia mafia au
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you. yes you. unless you read this and go “oh yeah em definitely doesnt mean me” in which case hello james and bre and stav and any other beloveds who touch grass on the regular but i did not list you by name because i do not want to drag you into my shitposting hell (james bre and stav are already at fatal levels of em shitposting exposure so sorry guys) 👋. anyway you. yes you. Go touch grass. Log off (affectionate but also maybe derogatory, depends on whether you get off on me hating you or not, whatever floats ur boat)
And you might be thinking “oh but em you are a Hypocrite here you are posting online telling people to long off?? 🤨🤨🤨😔” to which i say yes and i have undergone surgery to permanently fuse the neurons in my brain to the byler tag, so i actually can’t log off!! Check your ableism please.
So this is actually a grim and gory plea for you guys to log off because my neurons simply cannot handle the number of dramatic, self-victimizing posts and as someone who also hypocritically takes his analysis very seriously, i think sometimes you guys take things Too Seriously.
However do not mistake this for a spineless “please stop fighting 🥺🥺🥺” post because to be clear i am not a middle school aged girl and you are not my alpha wolfpack jock boyfriend with anger issues who i act like im taming a wild horse in a lifetime movie when i try and get to calm down and tell you to “dont fight, jason, just look at me, focus on me, it’s not worth it 🥺🥺” and instead take this as a grim warning from a guy who is having a silly little blast making silly little posts about the discourse but who also has his neurons linked directly to the internet so he feels the full force of every single post and cannot escape and who does not want you to face the same fate simply because i want to be the special boy who is inextricably and horrifyingly linked to the web. This plea to log off is not for your own good but rather for the good of my superiority complex and need to feel unique hope that helps. 🙏
and just remember to drink water and eat food and take breaks 🥺🙏💗😽🌈💦💦💦 or don’t! if you don’t eat or drink then that means youll die and i’ll soon have more bodies for my Corpse Army so actually NO eating NO drinking and that is an ORDER!!!!
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…please post the light saw trap ideas I am very intrigued
Hi, I didn't see this until now. Here are some (not especially gory) "saw traps" for Light (long post)
Light has to talk to a therapist for an hour without lying, and with L in the room. Every time he lies or dodges a question, a 10 days are added to his confinement. However, if both the therapist and L are convinced he is innocent and safe to be released by the end of the "appointment," he can go, regardless of the amount of lying. He has up to 3 seconds to begin speaking in response to any question and gets slowly increasing electric shocks as a consequence for any "um" or equivalent filler noise or hesitation. Because this saw trap would be impossible otherwise, L cannot ask questions. He can make comments. Also, since Light could fool a polygraph test, assume a supernatural element is involved. He is hooked up to a normal polygraph though, so if he trusts that and thinks he will get away with lying, he is doomed.
Light is placed in front of a microphone. He is told that the audio, scrambled for his anonymity, will be broadcast to the entire Kanto region of Japan. He has to apologize for his actions, explain that it is not fair to allow him to pass judgment on everyone else, and explain that he is a human being capable of error. If he does this convincingly, he will be released. If he refuses or isn't believable, he is injected with poison.
Light is in a room with a monitor in front of him. It cuts from the puppet to John Kramer himself, wearing a name tag. Light has the death note in front of him. There are blades attached to his fingers, themselves attached to strings. Kramer explains that the blades will close if he pulls, such as to write. He must watch at least 3 other victims' saw traps in order to be released. If he insults Jigsaw the floor under the chair opens up, Light falls, and then it closes again, simply leaving him trapped until he dies.
Light is chained to a wall in the same room as a convicted murderer. The chains will release at the same time, and Light has to kill the murderer with his actual hands in order to be released. His opponent can fight back, and has been promised freedom if Light dies.
Light has to play a dating sim with characters based on Misa, Takeda, and Yuri (girl he took on a date during the busjacking episode) every time he "loses a heart" he raises a bit higher over these spikes that really aren't that sharp so you'd probably be okay if you fell when you were just barely above them. Ten feet up on the other hand...not so much. Near, Mello, and Matt get to watch for entertainment and have a button that will drop Light at any point. He is dropped either when the game is over or when the button is pressed.
10 questions, multiple choice, 4 options each. Light is given the names and the faces of a selection of criminals he has killed. He has to remember the details of the case and guess which of each set of four was actually innocent. If he gets it wrong, he watches as his name is written in the death note. But if he guesses them all right, he's released. He just has to live with the guilt :)
L is strapped to a conveyor belt moving towards spinning saws. All death notes currently in the human world, including Light's, are hovering over an unlit lighter. Light can light the death notes on fire, losing his memories and means of killing, but L will get shredded, Light facing no legal consequences from L's death. Or he can save the death notes, but L will be completely unharmed, and probably have some questions. He can only have either the death notes or L's death, not both.
[Another telling the truth one] Light is seated across from Soichiro. Razor wire is wrapped loosely around Soichiro's throat and Light's hands. To be released, Light must confess his crimes as kira in full, and explain why, how, and his plans. For every lie he tells, the razor wire tightens. If he lies too much, his father dies and his hands are destroyed.
Bonus: L in a saw trap (silly):
Hello L,
Before you is a marshmallow. If you do not eat it for 30 seconds, you get two marshmal- hey. You didn't let me finish.
L: [with mouth full] "Why should I believe Jigsaw would give me two marshmallows? Meanwhile I get at least one marshmallow either way if I eat it before Jigsaw takes it from me"
Jigsaw: "It was poisoned. The antidote is in the second marshmallow."
L: "Interesting. However, I have been investigating Jigsaw. Give me the second marshmallow or get shot by one of agents currently surrounding your building."
*pause as Jigsaw checks whether L is bluffing*
*sound of marshmallow hitting the table*
#thanks for the ask!#dn#death note#light yagami#yagami light#dn shitpost#l lawliet#l death note#dn light#dn l#saw trap
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Some things that Scaramouche has because Childe asked him to get them:
Discord - While they're both into gaming, they're not the type of cringe discord couple who refers to each other as "kitten" or whatever. They just use Discord because Childe bought Nitro for himself and he just wants to make use of the good stream quality. This is when they do binge/movie nights, but also when Childe feels like abusing the built-in soundboard, to which Scara has on mute.
Steam Games - With the money Childe has from his day job, he makes enough where he can budget his salary to spoil himself, his siblings and Scara, plus some lunch. I don't know what day job that is, but it sure seems like a good one! Anyways, Childe got Scara to play online games with him so that they have something to do together other than watch stuff. Such games include CS:GO (specifically wingman mode which is arguably a better couple game than It Takes Two), Terraria (where Childe doesn't take it too seriously and forces Scara to clean up his gravestones) and Overcooked 2 (which cause way more fights than they could count). Childe funds all paid games for the both of them, even though Scara tells him that he has his own money.
Social Media - People can misinterpret his disinterest of social media to "Ei keeps her kids sheltered so they're clueless to normal things" which isn't the case here. Scara simply never had an interest to connect to other people other than that YouTube phase every kid has where they fixate on one thing. Young Scara loved to watch sword videos (the monetized, not gory kind that's on YouTube) where they would build swords, heat up sword, spar with sword, all that stuff. But besides YouTube, he didn't really care about having some sort of platform for himself, or care to look into the lives of his peers. At first, Childe wanted Scara to make an account so he can tag him in photos, but he insisted Scara have at least Instagram so he can have a place to post the photos of stray cats he has on his phone as some sort of journal. While Scara was hesitant at first, he now has a private account where like 8 people follow him wherein he just posts pictures of stray cats mostly for himself.
#genshin impact#childe#genshin#genshin impact modern au#wanderer#genshin modern au#genshin headcanons#childe genshin impact#tartaglia#childe tartagalia#tartagalia genshin impact#scaramouche#wanderer genshin#chiscara#scarachilde#scarachi
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rules & information
this is long overdue! i write one shots, preferences and headcanons! but before you request, i suggest going over this post :)
fandom & character list
only the lord of the rings: aragorn, legolas, boromir, faramir, éomer, frodo, sam, merry and pippin. maybe éowyn. the first three are who i call my prime characters since i know them the best. others, i’ll still be willing to write but requests for those may take longer.
crucial things to know:
i only write for f/m. i gave this a lot of thought and concluded that it’s really not my place to write m/m or f/f seeing as i cannot do it justice.
i do write for male readers as long as the pairing is with the opposite gender, see above
if you really want to, i’ll do matchups and ships. i expect you to give me a matchup in return. since i don’t feel like typing about myself, send me an ask and talk to me about this. all i need is enough information about you such as hobbies, personality, etc.
nothing too gory or anything out of the ordinary. this should be straightforward enough.
i don’t think i’ll ever write an entire smutfic but i will do smut headcanons and things like those. if you are a minor or simply uncomfortable, i’ll put a warning ahead of time and tag it with “lemon” so you can block it. keep in mind that i am an adult.
no crossovers, modern aus, etc.
english is not my first language. don’t be mean.
if you have any requests, don’t be afraid to send them in! i can’t guarantee how long your request will take. it can finish the same day, in a week or much longer. it just depends.
this is subject to change at any time and i reserve the right to deny any request.
#lord of the rings imagine#lotr imagine#asoiaf imagine#got imagine#the hobbit imagine#legolas x reader#ned stark x reader#cersei lannister x reader#jaime lannister x reader#little women imagine#aragorn x reader#faramir x reader
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The Damage You Do: ch 19, pt 7
Hope everyone's weekends have been good! See you Tuesday!
Previously
~
They sat there so long, wwx was sure their hands and feet—and maybe lwj’s ass too, given how he was the one sitting in a puddle of water, wwx’s brain joked—would be pruned as fuck when they got out. He hated pruney hands. He also didn’t particularly want to move at the moment, though. He’d never been good at meditating, at letting the world and his thoughts fall away, but here he was: content to simply exist in lwj’s arms for the rest of time, if he thought he’d be allowed to.
He almost did think he would be allowed to. If he let the world float away, he could almost believe that if he asked it, that lwj would die here with him, neither of them intent to move more than the idle swish of wwx’s feet through the water and lwj’s hand in his hair and their heart pounding against each other’s.
Alas.
“I have to get A-Yuan,” wwx said, pushing himself up and blinking sleepy eyes at lwj.
For once, the other man’s eyes were closed, at least for a moment, and wwx was allowed a look at the beautiful, flawless statue of a man, soft in his own relaxation, shockingly long eyelashes brushing over the tops of his cheeks. Then those breathtaking, near-golden eyes opened, blow huge in the dark shower… and possibly from arousal, if the hardness wwx had felt growing under his ass the last ten minutes were any indication.
wwx smiled sharply at the man as he shifted, doing his best to not be his normal clumsy self and accidentally knee lwj in the stomach or groin. “Not yet, but soon… ish~” he teased. He wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but he didn’t have to pick up his kiddo until later that afternoon. Surely, there was time for a little more fun?
lwj raised an eyebrow as wwx slid away from him, his own smile growing wider as his dom’s cock popped up proudly between them. He stepped gingerly onto his injured foot. It… definitely ached, but not so much he couldn’t walk on it. Hopefully with a little rest—maybe a movie night with A-Yuan and Wen Ning tonight. Wen Qing would be invited, of course, but she rarely joined them, her own movie tastes split between art films and gory horror shit.
wwx stepped carefully, lwj’s eyes a heavy weight as they slid greedily over his body, and especially lingering on his ass, wwx was happy to note, even purposefully flashing and wiggling it a bit for the other man a few times, as he gathered up a few bottles. Soap, hair shit, more hair shit, more hair shit.
wwx glared at the bottles and containers—since when did someone need so much shampoo? And since when did it come in such weird little containers? This one looked more suited for being a food container than something for the shower.
“It is a hair mask,” lwj helpfully supplied. “Another day,” he said, reaching out a hand for either wwx’s own or to accept the other bottles, wwx wasn’t sure, but he dropped the fancy container back where he found it and clambered back into the alcove.
~
A/N: Fun(?) fact: when I wrote this, a few weeks ago (if you didn't know, I started keeping 8-10 days between writing and posting things, so that if I get sick or something comes up I don't fall too far behind), I completely forgot wwx's ankle was injured. Thankfully, the distance from writing it (and editing the last chapter for Ao3) reminded me of his achy ankle!
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🕊🗡 RULES OF HEAVEN 🛡 🕊
🕊my Michael is completely canon divergent til we get him in the show
🪶I'll post headcanons as they come to me
🐑he can be shipped w multiple people he's not canon lol
🔆this blog is 18+ only cuz this fandom here is for adults only
🦢NO godmodding! Respect each other's characters!
🐚I don't like mpreg, pedo shit, or anything proship so like gross illegal crap. Those would be my no nos
⚖️also.. I try to read rules cuz I get unsure if people are even ok w my subject matter at times it gets dark and gory. It's why I prefer 18+ peeps.
🗡also its sometimes hard to tell who's willing to reply back if I send something and who will just ignore me. Which. It happens a lot and. Upsets me. A lot . Makes me feel like shit. Don't make me feel that way maybe interact more w me and I'll be like oh this person likes my muse ill interact more..I'm just cautious..yknow?
💫please do me a favor and if you drop a rp let me know ahead of time. It hurts to just see people abandon rps I'm in with them. It makes me feel as if they hate me. It hurts. Please tell me in dms why you are doing it and do not just drop them without warning. I like to know what I did wrong so I can fix it for future threads. Always wanting to improve my skills as a rper.
😇can't believe I must say this but, COMMUNICATION IS KEY. TELL ME IF A RP ISNT WORKING OUT BEFORE YOU JUST DROP IT. TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME AND I WONT FOLLOW OR INTERACT W YOU. SAME GOES FOR IF YOU DONT PLAN ON REPLYING TO ANYTHING I SEND YOU. TELL ME. I WILL STOP. I WILL GET IT AND NOT GET MY HOPES UP FOR NOTHING. DONT BE A JERK. TALK.
⌛️respect lgbtq here cuz mun is bi and ace and genderfluid any people against it leave now.
⭐️ I rp from these blogs out of enjoyment and as a extra hobby, I do have times when I'm not online cuz I do got a life so. I'm sorry if it's takes long to reply sometimes! I do my best! All I ask is you be patient with me! I do this for fun . Not as a career. I do not get paid.
🛡 I'm ace so I may feel uncomfortable with too adult of romance rps (must I say it) so romance is ok but boundaries are important. Edit: I'm better w romance and sexual ones even. But I just may not be good at it.
👼 if you have a issue with me simply block me I will not take any more drama in my bubble
✝️respect my hcs as well NO MATTER WHAT
✨️I don't like pe*os, proshi*pers (the ones who are pushy about it), or people who hurt animals . Please leave if you are any of the sort .
☁ and no you may not follow me if you just reblog my rp memes and fanart I post. You need to interact if you follow me okay. No one likes people like that. Don't I know it.
⚡️just to make it clear I dont do rps in dms . I rp in threads, asks or posts. Ask around if you do not know what that means.
☀️I will tag triggers but you must tell me which ones
🎼I follow back from my main. You do not have to follow my main back but I would like it if you followed this blog at least back
⚜️-Steph
🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆
Blogs I need tagged:
Ladiesofhell
Hellcab
E-mp-error
Lets-break-hearts
Infernal-lightning
Kttybot
And all blogs affiliated w them
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Coffee & Cowboys
Chapter 8
———
Word count: 1889
Pairing: Jack ‘Agent Whiskey’ Daniels x English f!Reader (no y/n, no descriptions)
Rating: Mature (For themes & language. No smut.)
Warnings: Slow burn; a lot of angst; violent descriptions (Whiskey vs the Galahads fight) & allusions to a gory death (how it ends in the film); post-movie; AU, fix-it fic.
A/N: I was worried about this one when writing it, but I think I did it came out okay… Also posted on Ao3.
———
You join Ginger, still speaking her thought processes to herself. You gently clear your throat to not surprise her too much before you speak.
“Ginger? How about some food?” Her shoulders relax a little, and she nods, as you begin on your way. Whiskey follows, but today spends the walk telling you some little facts about some of the rooms or people you pass on the way to the canteen. She smiles to herself when you laugh at one of the more… scandalous tidbits from your cowboy companion. She wonders how you are so okay with this, the (almost) ghost of an international spy chatting to you, so easily forgetting that to everyone else, there’s no one there. She’s not sure she’d be quite so accepting. She’s sure most people wouldn’t be.
You finally reach the canteen, grabbing a sandwich and drink, but taking your time looking at the desserts and easily picking out the one you’ll be coming back to get afterwards. Ginger and you settle down on two of the chairs at one of the round tables, placing your choices down and finally getting out of the lab headspace. She sees you push another chair out a bit with your foot, and when she looks questioningly at you, you simply shrug and tell her it’s so that Whiskey can sit down too. She doesn’t see how the gesture makes the ghostly Agent’s eyes soften, or the gentle tip of his hat he gives you in thanks.
…
After lunch (including a slice of one of the nicest chocolate fudge cakes you’ve ever had), the three of you return to Ginger’s lab, the air feeling much lighter than it did beforehand.
The remainder of the day includes more questions, Ginger trying to make some sort of connection between yourself and the stetson wearing secret agent, though she’s also looking over some of the previous test results so it’s not nearly as intensive for you as it was the previous day. Your book makes a short lived appearance, ending up closed on your lap as you think over and discuss the other possible connections with her. The cowboy doesn’t really add many thoughts, occasionally walking across the room and through the wall to look at himself in the hospital bed, machine beeps providing a strange soundtrack to his physical being, before walking back to join the two of you again. This last time, however, he returns to find you standing next to Ginger, hands covering your mouth, barely being able to contain your tears as she holds the tablet between you, screen clearly pointed in your direction, the video slightly highlighting parts of your face as it plays. One of her hands is on your back, rubbing up and down lightly in comfort, he realises, which means there’s really only one video you could be watching right now. You must hear something, he thinks, to make you become aware he’s walked back in, though he has no idea what, he’s just trying to figure out how you look so hurt about what happened to him. He’s still staring at your face as your head lifts and eyes meet.
“Jack.”
It’s the only thing you can rasp out before you break into sobbing. It’s the first time you’ve properly addressed him with his name. And oh, how he wishes it wasn’t said like that.
Ginger guides you to sit in a chair as you continue to cry over the video. The cowboy squats down in front of you, wanting nothing more than to hold your hand and comfort you, just like Ginger was trying to.
“Darlin’, it’s okay, I’m okay.” He whispers to you. You shake your head, hands still over your face. He can’t do anything but wait, quietly repeating to you that he’s fine.
Several quiet minutes pass, you only moving to occasionally wipe the flowing tears off your cheeks. The cowboy watches your face, eyes closed, cheeks irritated by the repeated rub of your hands. You breathe slowly and deeply, opening your eyes and letting them land on his face. Whiskey’s eyebrows pulled up and together in concern. He is still repeating that you don’t have to worry about him, so you give a small smile and slight nod to tell him you’re feeling a bit better now.
He exhales, you doing the same after another deep breath. He places his hand flat on your knee, palm up, so you place yours palm down on it. It goes straight through, of course, and your smile widens and warms as you watch how your hands share the space together.
“What can I do, sugar?” He asks, smiling back.
You shrug, losing some of your smile, and simply reply, “wake up?”
…
Later, you sit with both versions of the cowboy, reassuring yourself that no matter how much it looks like he is going to land inside the meat grinder, that no matter how terrifyingly close he gets, he does not actually go in. You had watched the video again, after you had stopped crying. After that viewing, you had cried a bit more, and moved rooms to sit among the machines that continue to beep around the comatose Agent Whiskey, one of the few signals that the cowboy is, in fact, still alive and not a ghost.
Despite the man’s disapproval, and intense glare, you are watching the video for a third and final time. You watch as the cowboy talks to the other two men, the ‘English business connections’ he had mentioned, across the checkered floor, them with a metal case, him with a lasso in one hand, a gun in the other. You watch as a bright light covers the screen briefly, and they begin to fight, the cowboy’s lasso, electrified according to Ginger, swinging around the room, cutting apart seats and almost cutting apart people. You watch him be hit and kicked around, lose his knife into the meat grinder, causing sparks to fly as the teeth do their damage. More fighting, and then it comes around again. The moment one of the suited men lifts him up and over, the other pushing his chest down to guide him, planning to send him head first into the grinder…
You pause the video. You know he doesn’t go in but it still looks like he will, that it’s the only outcome of the men’s movements that could possibly happen, that it was the inevitable end. You take a deep breath in, look at ghostly Whiskey’s concerned face, look at solid Whiskey’s peaceful one, exhale, and press play. He’s no longer centred, he’s to the side, still in motion, before the top of his head hits the corner of the funnelled metal, stopping its path, and the rest of the cowboy’s body flips over and falls, leaving him laying on the floor.
You suppose, really, that you should somehow be grateful. Grateful that the men didn’t lift him up and put him into the grinder after all. Grateful that they didn’t simply shoot him in the head before going on with their previous case-related mission. Whether the reason they did not was that Whiskey being neutralised due to unconsciousness was enough, whether it was crossing the line of self-defence to murder, or if they simply didn’t think he was worth the effort or the bullet, was unknown. You suppose you should feel grateful that they left him, injured, unconscious, and bleeding on the floor, but you just can’t seem to feel that particular emotion.
You lock the tablet screen and place it down on the bed. You aren’t crying this time, but you are so very tired from doing so earlier. Leaning back in the chair, you yawn, causing the cowboy to come closer.
“You alright there, darlin’?” He asks, and you take another look at his face. It’s filled with concern still, some guilt for the pain the video has caused, and something else. Regret maybe? You’re wondering if it’s a strange combination of sadness and annoyance at the fact he’s still an apparition that only you can see, mere inches from a body he should be inhabiting.
You nod, giving him a weak smile to try and calm some of his conflicting emotions. “Fine, thank you, just tired. Feel like going back to the hotel for a nap before dinner.”
“Okay then darlin’, let’s go.” He’s half way through the door before you even reach for the tablet. Returning it to Ginger, you tell her that you’re done for the day, the emotional labour has wiped you out and you’re going back to the hotel. She hands you a card with the Statesman logo and a phone number on it.
“It’s direct to the transport services, so you can come and go a bit more freely. You won’t have to be ready at a certain time, or meet me outside anymore, you know where you’re going. Champ okayed it. And you already have your ID, your biometrics are in the system, plus you have my direct number, so if you get turned around, call.”
“Thanks. I’ll do my best, don’t want to interrupt you.” You give her a warm and friendly smile, but it’s a surprise to her when you also give her a hug. “Thank you for your help. For me, and for Cowboy.” She hugs you back but doesn’t say anything before you let her go, saying goodbye and leaving her lab for the day.
…
Arriving back at the hotel, you try your best to get to sleep. You really try. An alarm is set, you’re comfortable in the bed, and you do feel tired. You’ve been there for 20 minutes, but you’re still very awake. Very awake and wondering how the cowboy ended up in your life, replaying how close he got to being minced, and what had caused the fight that almost killed him.
Ugh.
You climb out of the bed, walk over to the sofa, and drop down heavily next to Whiskey. His stetson is over his eyes again and he barely reacts to your arrival.
“What caused the fight?” You ask. “You said that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d have killed you? What could have possibly happened to do that?”
“Let’s just say we had a… difference of opinion.”
“Were they spies too?”
“Yes.” The man’s tone is short, and he clearly (still) doesn’t want to talk about this.
“But why-“
“It don’t fuckin’ matter now, does it? It was months ago, darlin’. Everyone was saved, so none of it fuckin’ matters.” He’s loud, not shouting, but loud and his tone is rough. You stare at him, and when he finally turns his head to look at you, it’s not anger in his eyes. Not only anger, anyway. It’s pain. It’s grief.
“Did you not want everyone saved, Jack?” You wish your voice didn’t break, you wish your heart didn’t either at the thought that this man, this ridiculous cowboy that you care about despite only knowing him a few days, could have possibly fought against the cure being released. He doesn’t say anything. That’s an answer too, you think, and not the one you want. You sigh as you stand, and walk back towards the bed. You cry again, this time only stopping when you finally fall asleep.
#Coffee & Cowboys fic#Martha writes#Agent Whiskey#Agent Whiskey x reader#Kingsman 2#Kingsman: The Golden Circle
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Welcome to my blog!
Just a reminder to new users/followers: if you want to follow me - great! I hope you enjoy my wonderful, slightly incoherent blog.
However you'll need to have a proper Tumblr account- aka one with a customised icon, actively used etc. If not, you look like a bot and I (and many others on here) will block you. Doesn't have to be awesomely curated or anything, just not empty, left with the tumblr triangle/square icon or 'follow for more' etc.
Also I don't always follow back - no reflection on you, it's just my dash gets very cluttered & I'm only sporadically here.
Each to their own, but I also won't follow if the blog is explicit/coarse, very political (esp right-wing), gory, features a lot of horror, features lots of slash shipping (I'm pro LGTBQ+ but slash isn't my shipping focus & I tend to prefer the canon friendships that slash fans turn romantic/sexual), has a lot of purity policing (call-out culture/shipping wars etc) and doesn't tag properly so I can filter. I recommend minors don't interact, esp on the rare occasion posts are explicit.
As said in bio above, I'm a big Heroine x Villain/anti-hero shipper. As a rule how I see this is:
It's fiction not real life - I understand people's mileage may vary (i.e if you've had bad experiences in RL & the pairing/dynamics hits too close to home), which is why I tag/use content warnings so people can filter/ block. I try & be respectful, however please don't interact if you want to shame or police my or my friends' shipping/fanworks.
My heroines/protags are always aged up in my headcanons/fanfic if they aren't of age already.
I'm a big fan of feisty heroines with agency & am as focused on the philosophical discussions/development as I am the romantic/sexual tension.
My explorations in fandom/fiction do not reflect my relationships in real life - this should be obvious, but sometimes in fandom ya gotta say it ;).
I'd much rather you block me than try and argue shipping, fanon, or canon/fanfic plot points with me. Having lived through Tumblr 2013/14 and anime shipping wars, it's simply not worth it. Live and let live etc.
I also like hero x heroine ships & I'm a multishipper - chances are I may also ship your NOTP so use that filter option, it's a lifesaver.
I love that UST & I might occasionally post explicit fanfic, but generally this blog is SFW. I'm also not a fan of porny style language.
If all that hasn't freaked you out, welcome and enjoy the blog - it's mainly nature pics anyway lol.
#personal#I've meant to do a proper one of these for ages incl masterlist but I never have time#just keep seeing new followers do this & I don't want to block if you are a friendly#but genuinely there are so many bots & quite creepy ppl so one has to beware#also I keep anon off a lot of the time as trauma response from 2013/14 tumblr & fandumb#please no antis or notp shippers here#you do do but don't come here asking me for explanations etc - no time for that
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Devilman Crybaby rant
First of all, gloss over the fact of how late I am with this, I've never been good at keeping up with stuff like that. Second, this entire post is mostly just for me to let out all the storm of thoughts forming in my brain right now, because that's how I operate, but feel free to drop your insight.
ALSO SPOILERS AHEAD
So, I'm a big fan of the Devilman series, let me establish that. I've fell in love when I stumbled upon Amon: Apocalypse of Devilman years before, which led me to catching up with older shows/OVAs, I even got my hands on the manga. I simply love it- the premise, philosophy, questioning all of what we understand as being human, empathy, love... I live for media like this. So obviously I checked out Crybaby on Netflix too.
And, in my opinion, it wasn't actually that good at all, despite the hype.
The animation is the front of it, let's start with that.
I know it's hard for people to adjust. Anime throughout the years has had various styles, so distict and popular at the specific time periods that it pretty much separated anime styles into groups of how shows were stylised at the time. So when something breaks through that drastically, it may received mixed, if not mostly negative comments (look at Aku no Hana for example). And you know, I actually liked it for the most part. It was unique, its fluidity in motion captivating, in my eyes. But the more episodes, the more obvious it was that it didn't work for everything, slowly starting to become more annoying than charming, visually speaking.
My second ick? Sirene. Oh my.
I'm talking about episodes involving her as a whole.
I've always been mesmerised by this specific act in the story to be honest. Sirene's story itself is something I find beautifily tragic. In love with the demon prisoned in a human body, the demon possessed by someone else pretty much, desperately wanting to free him in order to be together while also following insticts of a demonic being - proving its strenght for the sake of survival ingrained into demons' very core, thriving at the thought of defeating someone who can outpower you (and being good at it, considering she was one of very few, if not the only demon close to finishig Devilman). Among her is Kaim, the demon in love with her - both of them creating this duo of unconditional feelings, making us question whether demons and humans are actually that different and if demons are capable of caring about each other without wanting anything in return (like Kaim letting himself be killed, so Sirene could get a chance at winning), then what makes us special as human beings in comparision to them? I am passionate, as you can see, about this.
And disappointed that in comparision, this act in Crybaby was shallow and felt sped up, present only for the sake of it. I remember feeling down and upset, kind of like when you order something amazing at first glance off the web, only for it to arrive looking cheap and horrible in quality. Their fight felt like it lasted for a minute, Sirene's and Kaim's story and their purpose to it more of a speck. I personally feel that if they could pull it off in an OVA (The Demon Bird, 1990), manga (1972) etc., they could've pulled it off here.
Bringing time feels especially important to me, since many other shows having the same runtime (around 22/23 minutes if you count out the op and ed) are able to still make it work while also having deep/complicated stories like Devilman.
These episodes also brought something else to my attention while watching.
Their obsession with NSFW stuff. Blood, gore, sex. "But it's for the more mature audience, obviously they put that in." Yeah. Original Devilman is bloody and gory as well, absolutely not meant for younger readers/watchers. But here, when I finished watching the show, if felt like it became an excuse for them, putting it into scenes without rhyme or reason - and I do expect a little more reason, because Devilman in its core is meant to be a bit more than a show someone can just jack off to on a Friday night I think or fawn over edgy guts and all. As I mentioned, it came off to me extremely strongly while watching the Sirene act - mostly because she felt highly sexualised (among other female characters) and her feelings for Amon focused solely on "rail me, Amon".
"People in love want to do these things together, especially demons, because" - sorry to interrupt, but this whole act, to me, was meant to prove that demons are not actually mindless beasts, but instead able to purely feel for someone beyond the physical need just like people, making us, consumers, ask ourselves how it correlates to our own humanity if those "vile and mindless monsters" also understand what it means to love and save someone we care about.
Instead, I saw pointless sex scenes, adding nothing to its core while feeling like it had some purpose meant for it, they just didn't feel like elaborating. I can deal with it to some extent. Maybe I did miss a point, maybe I'm exaggarating. But from where I stand, its only point was to scream "look at this thing, it's 16+". And nothing beyond - which, again, hits me harder when I remembered previous stuff was nowhere near close to stuffing itself with NSFW while still being meant for older people, violence paired with topics of demonic need for violence and survival while mentions of sex barely present or hinted at without feeling like it's shoved down your throat, focusing on its debate over morals and meaning of humanity, questioning who is really the actual monster. Unlike Crybaby - trying to do something similar and forgetting about it later.
Those are the most important points from me. Again, it is meant mostly to be a mindless rant and "let-it-out" sort of deal, so forgive the messiness of it. I'd also like to remind that these are my personal views and I am willing to have a convo about it.
But Devilman is, as I hopefully showcased, important to me. I love the manga, I love OVAs, I love shows and specials.
So it cut me extra deep to admit to myself that I did not, at all, love or even like Crybaby.
Because it wasn't just what it really could be.
#devilman#devilman series#devilman manga#devilman crybaby#go nagai#manga#anime#rant post#text post#devilman crybaby spoilers
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