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#with few redeeming features
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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Thank you all for voting in the poll to decide who was going to be the leader of the band! It turned out to be such a close race!
#poorly drawn mdzs#better drawn mdzs#mdzs#madam lan#A-qing#Band AU#(Reminder that Madam Lan's design inspiration goes to Qourmet!)#Madam Lan may have been the winner per vote count but there were so many strong advocates for A-Qing!#I played around with a few versions of what the 'poll winner' art was going to be and ultimately decided I wanted them both.#As any good theater love knows though - The battle for leadership was a ruse. They *all* get a chance to be featured.#Cooperation was the real end goal! However I do think these two have the best frontman energy of the group.#Or at least 'crowd favourite' energy. I also really loved hearing what people thought their vocal styles would be like!#This was probably one of my favourite polls to do and I love drawing these characters a lot B*)#I'd love to spend a bit more time in this AU so count on me bringing it back.#One thing I keep feeling like I need to redeem myself on is Madam Lan's Translucent skirt. I have *not* done the concept justice yet.#It is such a crack-platonic ship but I want to think Madam Lan and A-Qing would enjoy each other's company.#Possibly also with JYL as well. They can be like mutually beneficial therapy dogs to each other.#Madam Lan never got to see her kids grow up into teenagers after all. She only had sons. Never daughters.#Even if she saw her kids once a month we do know she treated them with so much love and kindness.#She would bite the shit out of YZY for yelling at JYL. What a sight to see. A-Qing would also start biting (for fun).
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landlordevil · 5 months
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I know i've made like 3 of the same posts before but it just kills me because I love him as a villain and feel like there's a lot to discuss so I go into the cazador tag and everyone's like "so glad this greasy ugly guy was so easy to kill" stop being mean to him... have you considered that some of us want to appreciate arch villainy wherever we may find it? Have you considered how he has some of the rawest lines in the entire game? How he learned how to abuse and manipulate and terrorize Astarion because he lived it? How an ascended Astarion parallels Cazador so cleanly in words, tone and action?
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margaritalaux-antille · 4 months
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I'm love her 💘 ⚡
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jibunwo · 8 months
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i miss apple beer…
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luv4berry · 10 months
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Can you pls make one abt miles and yn getting into a very heated argument and she slaps him for saying smth outrageous and then she leaves and he climbs into her window after a few hours and tries to work it out with her
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anything for you.
earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader
SUMMARY: you go over to miles practically drenched in another man's cologne, and he jumps to conclusions all too quickly.
GENRE: fluff to angst to fluff.
WARNINGS: bickering/arguing, physical contact made by reader, jealous miles, cursing, kissing/making out, suggestive (?) miles calling women females (this needs a trigger warning in itself), CORNYYY
AUTHORS NOTE: yo why this tumblr shit lowkey fun? + this is my first request agagaa thank you!! omg and i hit 200?? and my eyes only is almost at 2k notes wtf r y’all onnnn?? anyways thank you for requesting! i didn’t make miles say anything too outrageous just so he could redeem himself later on, hope you like it!
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“you look so good,” your boyfriend says for what seems like the 100th time today, his large hands immediately dropping to your bare waist, fidgeting with your waist beads as he leans in to mold your lips, a smile gracing his face when you return his affection.
“all mine.” he mutters as he intensifies the kiss, his hands approaching the waist band of his boxers that you’ve claimed as your own. when he lifts your feet off the ground, the heels of your feet lock around his back, a giggle escaping your lips when he lays you down on his bed. you pull away from him, laying the palms of your hands on his chest to keep him away when he pursues your lips once more.
“miles, we can’t make out all day.” you giggle, running your manicured fingers down his chest.
“says who?” he buries his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet kisses along the space when he suddenly pauses.
he removes his head from the crevice, sitting up to which you follow.
“baby,” you hum in acknowledgement, “where’d you go today?” he questions you, a hint of an indistinguishable emotion in his voice.
“just here, why?” you question him, running your nails up and down his neck. a look of confusion immediately sweeps over your features when he calmly removes your hand from his body.
“cause you smell like somebody been rubbing all up on you.” he looks you up and down, leaning in to now smell your clothes, hair, neck, anything within the perimeter really.
he pulls back, “who were you with?” his expression solidified.
“nobody, i swear i don’t know why i smell.” you reason with him, genuinely confused as well.
“oh? so the smell just magically took over your hair and your clothes?”
he completely gets up from his position next to you, hovering over you. “y/n, i know im not tripping, who the hell was rubbing up on you and why’s the smell so strong? that’s what we doin’ now? and then you got the audacity to bring your ass over to my house, lay in my bed, and wear my clothes.”
“what are you implying?” you scowl at him, now rising to your own feet.
“im implying that you forreal out here fucking on other dudes when you got a whole ass boyfriend.”
the next few moments go by swiftly and mindlessly, but the scorching sensation left in the palm of your left hand enables you to process what just happened almost immediately; you slapped him. though, not an ounce of regret filled your tank of emotions, adrenaline being the only identifiable one.
“i don’t know who the hell you’re talking to but it can’t be me, how dare you?” you glare at him, the imprint of your palm already making its mark on his face, the surrounding skin blemishing. “when have i ever done something like that to you?”
“today, apparently.” he mumbles under his breath, caressing the skin of his cheek to soothe the discomfort.
you look at him like he’s just grown 3 heads before silently walking over to the corner of his room, pulling his graphic tee over your shoulders. you immediately lunge it at him, same with his boxers, bracelets, his necklace, anything of his that is currently making contact with you. you zip up your navy blue hoodie, slipping your sweatpants over your bare legs.
you bring your tote bag over your shoulder, making your way towards his window which he currently guards, glaring at you from where you stand.
“miles, get the hell out my way before i pop you in your mouth next.”
“i want his name and address, you not going anywhere till i get an answer.”
you flail your arms in his face, “are you deaf or just stupid? there is no “him” because the only person i been rubbing up on is you!”
“baby, i don’t smell like no cheap ass cologne.”
“don’t call me that, move!” you raise your voice, stepping up to him.
“what’s his name?”
“you’re crazy.” you scoff, instead bolting for the front door. you’re mindful of mama rio cooking in the kitchen, slipping past quietly as to not raise any suspicion. though, you do bid her a quiet farewell, yet even when you slip out the front door with a smile on your face she knows something isn’t right by the way miles isn’t trailing behind you.
“miles, qué pasó?” she calls out from the kitchen, wiping her hands down her apron and subtly knocking on her sons door before entering.
“it’s nothing.” he calls back, digging his cheek into his pillow to prevent his mother from spotting the blossoming blemish. he didn’t want to explain how he got you so worked up that you slapped him to his mother, or anyone for that matter.
“it’s nothing? invite her over for dinner tonight.” rio arches her brow, taking a seat next to her son on the bed.
“we aren’t on good terms right now.” he sighs out, rubbing his hands over his eyes.
“even more of a reason to invite her over, right?” rio says, making her way out of his bedroom before miles could come up with a rebuttal.
he lazily grabs his phone when it pings, though when he realizes the message is from you, he throws it on the floor until the phone pings with a second message. he groans loudly swiping open your messages.
one attachment
next time don’t make stupid assumptions you dick
the photo captioned was of a half empty cologne bottle you had probably found somewhere in your home, miles heart immediately dropping to his stomach.
okay, maybe he fucked up a teensy tiny bit.
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when you got home, you racked your brain for a possible explanation as to why you smelled like anything other than your boyfriend. you were stumped till your brother had walked past you, the aroma that had gotten miles so worked up earlier clouding your senses immediately.
you lay on the pad of your tummy on your king sized bed, your irritable mood causing a burning sensation to spread throughout your body. though it may not be displayed through your face, you were absolutely livid. after all you’ve done for him, this is what you got in return, his unprecedented allegations.
sure it was reasonable to be suspicious, but to outright accuse you? you’ve never given him any reason not to trust you, reassuring him whenever he needed it. had your words not been enough? what about your gestures? what about the times you’d cuddle up with him in bed, sleepily muttering words like “im yours,” or “i belong to you, miles.” had that not been enough?
your jittering thoughts are interrupted by a newfound presence in the corner of your room, the peripherals of your eye capturing those twin braids that you adore so much.
“nuh uh, get the hell up outta here.” you sit up, pointing back towards the window.
“deadass?” he raises both brows, staring at you dead in the eyes.
“deadass.” you return the gesture.
“nah.” he climbs into bed with you, settling his arm over your waist.
“im being serious miles, get out. don’t touch me either.” you pick up his arm as if it’s diseased, laying it over his stomach.
“you don’t like it when i touch on you?” he says in a sultry voice, and you roll your eyes.
“ma, listen to me,” he grabs your chin meeting you at eye level, your brows still furrowed out of anger. when your eyes meet his, any foreign sense of anger evaporates from your system, turning to putty in his hands, no matter how much you tried to fight it.
“you’re so pretty baby,” he kisses your downturned lips once.
“why you look so mad?” he ignorantly questions you, kissing your lips once more.
“baby smile for me?” he squishes your cheeks, yet he’s still met with silence till you finally part your lips.
“this isn’t helping your case by the way.” you roll your eyes at his obvious attempts to bribe you.
“alright, what if i came to you smelling like some other female? you wouldn’t like that huh?” he attempts to reason with you.
“i came to you smelling like my brother? and even then if you came to me smelling like some girl i would conduct a thorough investigation first.” you side eye him.
“how was i supposed to know it was your brother? i didn’t even know he was back.”
“he got back this morning, i gave him a hug and he must’ve rubbed off on me.”
“you didn’t tell me all that. so what i gotta do for you to believe im sorry, hm?” he climbs on top of you, following your darting eyes with his own.
“buy me a pandora bracelet.” you joke.
he perks up, “on god? baby i buy you jordans every other day, the hell is a bracelet?”
“i mean i was joking but you serious?”
“you didn’t know that i’d do anything for you?”
“you’re corny boooo, leave me alone.” you push his head away from yours, your facade breaking when a smile plays at your lips.
“y/n?”
“hm?”
“why do you hit so hard?”
“what do you mean?” you ask him, your outburst from earlier had completely left your mind. he turns to the side, and your eyes widen as they lay upon the imprint of your hand slowly fading,
“oh shit,” you wince, inspecting the damage of your earlier actions.
you throw the blanket off your legs, sitting on your knees to inspect further. you silently grab his hand, heading towards your bathroom as you slowly feel guilt begin to stir inside you.
“stay here.” he watches as you disappear into the hallway, coming back with a frozen pack of peas. you hold it up to his cheek for him, fiddling with the ends of his braids as you repeatedly check for signs of the bruising going away.
“im sorry miles, i shouldn’t have hit you.”
he hums in acknowledgment of your apology, parting his lips to speak. “it’s okay, i like them aggressive.”
a smile threatens your lips, your hand going up to cover your mouth to keep your false facade up.
“nah why you keep smiling?” he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand down to stare at you intently.
“stop that.” you attempt to straighten out your face.
it’s silent for the next few moments as you adjust the frozen peas seeing that the bruise had almost completely faded.
“y/n, you know im being forreal when i say i’d do anything for you, right?”
“yeah, i know.”
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love, berry.
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duke-daemon · 3 months
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hazbin hotel redesigns wooooooooo
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okay so. i'm gonna discuss my thoughts about them n shit, putting under a readmore bc it's gonna get long and rambley. sorry in advance for the shit formatting, i'm on mobile </3
just some general shit about how i would rewrite it. i think the premise of redeeming sinners is entertaining but is executed horribly. i also am a fan of the "heaven isn't great either" idea but again, executed horribly. i'd make the hierarchy of angels more accurate because it's cool as hell and i have autism about it. the characters from hell would swear still (albeit not as much), but the angels would outright refuse to swear or make vulgar jokes ever. this would be partially to further the gap between heaven and hell and make the differences more stark.
hell would also be more like dante's inferno (again because i think its cool). the ars goetia would get a full redesign and would be more prevalent in demonic society.
now for the characters!
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VAGGIE VALTIEL:
starting off with vaggie, or Valtiel as i've renamed her because let's be honest her original name sucks. Valtiel (Val for short) was an aspiring power angel who wanted to be an exorcist. she looked up to lute and thought the idea of killing demons was really cool and badass. however when she actually was on the field for the first time she discovered how awful this actually was. she tried to help a few demons but lute figured it out and felled her right then and there. the rest of her story is relatively the same. personality wise she's more stoic and less prone to all-out aggression. she still get angry, sure, but it's in a quieter and more menacing way. you DO NOT want to fuck with Valtiel.
CHARLIE:
next up is charlie! i had two ideas for her. the first one (unsettling drawing) has her as a mannequin/doll type demon. lucifer and/or lilith was unable to conceive and as such they built a kid from scratch. she's overall similar to og charlie personality wise, very kind and cheerful despite her unsettling appearance. she struggles with empathy sometimes but really does mean well. her motive for rehabilitating sinners is so they get to see their family again. being able to see heaven from where they are in hell must make them sad, so she wants to help make them happy again!
the second idea for charlie has her as an angel. specifically i casted her as a dominion angel due to their reputation as holy judges. she was once a demon but has been rehabilitated and has risen into angelhood! she now wants to help her former kin do the same and redeem themselves in heaven's gaze. again, similar cheery personality, but a bit more prudish in this rendition
tangent time!
as a side tangent, valtiel and charlie would have a different relationship in this rewrite. their relationship felt shoehorned in in the original show, like it was just there for the hell of it. we didn't see much development between them and it just felt kinda bland. so in my rewrite, charlie and valtiel are amiable exes. they tried dating when valtiel first fell (when charlie was still a demon in the charlie-angel version) but realized their feelings for each other were much more platonic than romantic. they ended things off on good terms, deciding they were much better as friends. they are still besties to this day! later charlie ends up with emily (or 'ellie' as i plan to rename her)
back to the characters
Alastor:
note: i made alastor mixed-race, which could be seen as bad by some due to vivzie saying he's black. however, as many have pointed out, he has no ethnic features whatsoever and i honestly wouldn't be surprised if she said that just to get away with using voodoo symbols (a closed religion) in his imagery/design. like viv, i am incredibly white and have little to no knowledge of voodoo, and even if i did i would not use it for something like this anyways due to the stigma the religion already has and (again) it being a closed practice. as such i removed it from his concept altogether, but made him mixed race (white passing) because.. why not i guess, i forgor my actual reasoning
with that being said...
alastor is by far my favorite of the redesigns and i'm honestly tempted to turn him into a legally distinct oc. i imagine he's somewhat reserved, along the lines of norman bates albeit a bit more extroverted. during his life he was a serial killer with a day job as a radio announcer. he took pleasure in reporting about his own murders on the radio, but that is eventually what got him caught (ie accidentally letting slip info that wasn't released to the public). as a result he was sentenced to death. upon arriving in hell, he quickly rose through the ranks to borderline overlord status and is a feared presence by demons and sinners alike. why is he bothering to assist in the hotel project? who knows... his motives are a mystery, like the rest of what he does
(he isn't actually alastair crowley i just thought the naming convention was ironic. however he may have also dabbled with satanic magic in lifetime..)
Angel Dust:
TW: brief discussion of SA
this is definitely my second favorite redesign. i loooove insect themes and wanted to do more than just Extra Arms, so he now has fucked up legs and a lot of eyes too! story-wise, angel used to be a criminal mastermind, hated by both the mafia and the feds. he was a gentleman thief, arranging massive heists under the cover of night while also partaking in the occasional drag show. he ended up a cocaine addict later in life, which caused his work to become sloppier. eventually he was killed in a heist gone wrong, specifically shot by the police.
i'm not gonna go too in-depth on the SA part of his story, but he is hypersexual due to being assaulted in both his life and afterlife. it would be something he'd be working on in the rewrite. his reason for coming to the hotel in the first place may have even been for help with this trauma. underneath his sultry exterior is a broken guy who really just needs someone to care about him for who he really is and not for what his body can do.
LUTE:
so lute and adam are some of the characters i have the most gripes about. the biggest one being why viv chose adam as the leader of the exorcists in the first place. if she wants a biblical figure tied to demon killing, Archangel Michael is RIGHT THERE, aka the one destined to kill satan during the events of Revelations. if she wants the first human to die, that would be Abel, not Adam. and i kinda doubt abel would want to do the stuff that HH!adam has been doing. if she wants an angel related to torture, Dumah is her guy! an angel that rules over wicked souls and tortures sinners every day except sabbath. so many better options...
with that out of the way, Lute is still the lieutenant of the exorcist, who are a specially chosen group of powers sent to purge hell once a year. think navy seals. she's pretty much the same as in the show, albeit more muscular and visually different from other exorcists (seriously why do they all look exactly the same?????) she's a very repressed lesbian who hasn't had time to work on that due to her duties
i also redesigned the exorcist uniform/armor because those LED purge masks are fugly as hell and their clothes don't even look remotely like armor.
Adam + Final Thoughts
i did start a redesign of adam but got bored of it. regardless, i think he'd be the head of C.H.E.R.U.B. instead of the exorcists. he doesn't want his children to make the same mistakes he and eve did, so together they started C.H.E.R.U.B. to help lost souls stay out of hell
final thoughts uhhhh i'm tired. show sucks, it had so much potential but viv ruined it by being a shitty writer and an even shittier person. the designs are fine i guess but they all look exactly the same and are in desperate need of variety. the humor is dogshit, saying dick and balls and penis over and over and over again doesn't make it any funnier than the first three times you made that joke. anyways that's it, i hope you liked my inane ramblings. gonna go vanish for another forty years or so, adios
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radiance1 · 8 months
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Tucker finds a game installed on his pda one day.
He didn't know where it came from, nor what it was supposed to be and it looked more high quality than a few other games he's seen. So what did he do with it? Surely he should've not touched it and tried to delete it, right?
He wouldn't be apart of team phantom if he didn't also embody the "Fuck it we ball" energy.
So he plays it, finds it to be some dating sim based on the title screen and went through a good fair portion of it, it was fairly normal, if not really up his alleyway of games. But it had its moments though.
Then came Monika.
He didn't know what to do with her, in all honesty. She seemed to be a sapient Ai trapped in a dating sim, which was weird but not that weird compared to everything else in all honesty. She also killed off her friends, though her reasoning was because they weren't real and that it was the only way for her to have a romance route.
Kinda extra in his opinion, but he can see the reasoning.
So what does he do? Rummage around in the game's coding and makes a route for her.
(He swore he saw another pair of hands indirectly helping him when he did it, too.)
Monika was downright ecstatic when he was finished with it, he outlined a route for her but then she just took control of it, coding in events, mini-games, gifts and other sorts of things for her route. She thanked him immensely for outlining a route for her, since even with all of her control she couldn't directly go against core programming when it came to herself like that.
He was glad to help her out, really, she seemed like a pretty nice person, pushed outside of her core programming because of her sapience. He even coded Monika outside of the game and let her roam around in his pda, which accidentally added another layer of protection to his firewalls, but he isn't complaining.
Then she wondered how it would be like in the real world, with him and everyone else.
It really just went off from there.
Jack and Maddie are genius inventors, and now that they no longer have such a driving, blinding hatred towards ghost due to their son being revealed as a halfa, they no longer spend all of their time on ghost themed weapons and stuff.
So he went to them, showed them Monika (Which they were extremely impressed with) and decided to help him in building her a body! Probably also because they liked the challenge of building a body too, but meh.
Tucker drew up a design based on Monika's wishes, and tweaked it a bit here and there to ensure perfect human functionality.
Monika told Jack and Maddie that they didn't need to spend too much effort on it, since she would be fine with just a body, but Jack went no and they went all in. Did Tucker know what they were using to built her body? No, no he did not.
Apparently they made her body out of some rare metal they obtained from Vlad, who is trying very hard to redeem and put himself back in the Fenton's good graces after having some sense knocked into him, a rare metal called nth metal that Vlad apparently lost a lot trying to get, even had to use less then clean methods to get, but not anything he can't make back in a while.
Her blood was ectoplasm, with a fully functional heart made from the same metal and basically every other organs as well. Her brain was basically a supercomputer that'll let her connect to the internet whenever she wants, as well as allow her access to wifi from virtually wherever.
Her skin was made from another metal, one that imitated the feel and look of human skin, while also being more durable. They also added in features that'll simulate touch, taste, smell, sight, and hearing as well!
Monika was honestly floored when she was downloaded into the body, it was much, much more than she had asked for and she didn't even know if she could repay them for it. To which Jack and Maddie just waved off because the chance to make a body from scratch out of a rare metal that was basically just gonna lie there for a sapient Ai wasn't one that would come often, so the experience was invaluable honestly!
Monika tried out everything she could after that, just happy to be among real people after becoming aware. She could finally be with her boyfriend, physically, no longer bound by a wall between them.
Then a while later, she may have accidentally hacked into what Tucker later told her was the Justice League Watchtower. It wasn't even her fault, she just wanted to hack into a nearby satellite, honest!
It's not like Tucker could talk, really. He's been hacking into the local government database for a while now, and why, it's not like he could do better, could he?
He saw a challenge when he saw one, and he should shy away from it because it was the Justice League.
But
So then the both of them competed to see who could hack into the Justice League database the fastest. A romance game Ai who grew sapience and got into the real world, versus a guy who's insanely smart and good at hacking who got her into the real world.
Of course it couldn't have been that easy, though, and really, it wouldn't have been a true challenge is they didn't engage in a cyber battle against the people they're hacking into, right?
Meanwhile, the Justice League is watching as Batman, Tim, and Oracle is fighting against two unknowns hacking into their database and having what is no doubt a cyber battle of such intensity they're wondering how the hell that keyboard is still standing against how fast their fingers are flying across it.
Some of them can swear they can see Batman release an aura of impressed, annoyed, and amused all at once.
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cosmos-coma · 3 months
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My Sun, My Star- Part 2
A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 7476 (whoops)
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.
Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.
Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
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________
“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.
Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”
He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return. 
“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.
“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.  
Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door. 
“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.
As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk. 
“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder. 
“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders. 
“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?” 
Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”
“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway. 
“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-” 
“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise. 
“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?” 
----
You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.
Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms. 
“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.
You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a  quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly. 
Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back. 
“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him. 
“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.
“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….”  The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed. 
He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.
“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.
“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“ 
“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….
“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“
“But I-“ 
“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….” 
You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’  you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not? 
You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.
“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…” 
“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes. 
“Doll, I’m sorry-”
“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”
You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later. 
“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.
Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.
You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be. 
You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same. 
You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return…. 
When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner. 
Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence. 
A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast. 
“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.
“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in. 
“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…” 
“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”
“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering. 
“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.
 Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”
You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?
You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you. 
But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset. 
“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.
You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”
Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”
“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful. 
Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?” 
“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.” 
You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”
“I told you…He was different last night,  he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.
You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air. 
Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”
Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends. 
Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”
You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”
“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained. 
You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin. 
You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you. 
“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another. 
Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.” 
You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding. 
This was it. 
--------
Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time.  ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.
“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder. 
“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.
“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops. 
Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-
The apartment. 
Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.
“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.” 
Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being. 
“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago. 
“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.
“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out. 
“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries. 
“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.
“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?” 
A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.” 
Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with. 
You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.
Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.
Well, that was the plan anyway.
As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward. 
“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy. 
His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart? 
He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.
You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg. 
“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost. 
You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers. 
“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react. 
You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last. 
After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid. 
‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘
With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.
Silence.
You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?” 
Quiet.
Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more. 
With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.
---------
Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known. 
The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more. 
Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes. 
“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed. 
Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at. 
He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly. 
Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling. 
“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running. 
Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?
He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.
Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.
He would take care of you. 
“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.  
Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.
What did he do to you…?
-----
You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry. 
You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”
“It’s Bucky…”
You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you. 
“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied. 
As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do. 
“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.
“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you. 
He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away. 
“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”
But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.
“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles. 
Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.” 
You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.
You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.
As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.
Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing. 
He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it. 
You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. 
Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze. 
“He…” 
Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.
“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.
“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…” 
Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you. 
The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg. 
He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you. 
When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room. 
Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence. 
“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”
“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”
You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.” 
Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space. 
“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…” 
“Doll…” 
“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.
“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”
Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...” 
“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”
_____________
Bucky Taglist:
@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @mirtaqueen @blackhawkfanatic @mcira @aagn360 @nialiuwanderlust @waywardhunter95
thanks to everyone who wanted to be tagged this chapter! If you want to be added to the general Bucky taglist please just let me now!
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Another really interesting thing that the show is doing is literally saying, "not ALL gods." (That convo between Annabeth and Hephaestus was something else. Leah is so talented, holy shit. Rick made a really good choice with her).
Like on one hand, we have gods like Athena, Zeus and Ares that simply do not care. Their kids are there to bring them glory at most. They won't save them - not in a way that actually helps the kid. They barely give them attention. They look at them like (unwanted) tools.
And then we have gods like Poseidon and Hephaestus (and Hermes if they stick to the book) that have redeemable features? Like Poseidon paying child support and saving Percy in the river and sending the sea spirit, and Hephaestus who actually listened to Annabeth's pleading and chose to save Percy's life. (And Hermes sending Luke indirect signs/gifts, sending Percy to talk to Luke for him, and constantly paying attention to Luke & crying/mourning Luke as revealed in tlo).
I gotta say. I like the variety. They're fleshing out that the gods are all toxic together, but individually, a few of them are good to their kids/demigods. Don't get me wrong, they're still heavily flawed, but you can see how Percy can stand on their side against Kronos, and chose to fix the broken system instead of tearing it all down.
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runnning-outof-time · 4 months
Note
I believe that “Are you jealous?” is the last available prompt 😅 Do your magic with it, K 🤗 With Tommy, please and happy 3.5 K 😘
Thanks for sending this in, Isa! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write it…..I hope you like the path I chose for it. This prompt was requested 3 times, so I’m trying to give it a little variety. Out of the 3 brothers, Tommy feels like he’d be the one to go about it in this way…he’s a bit of a jerk in this one. Alright, enough with the talking…Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!
I’m Walking Home
Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Warnings: language, use of derogatory word (whore), (Y/N)’s a bit unhinged in this one
Word Count: 999
Summary: (Y/N) decides to walk home after a question that Tommy asks makes her anger soar.
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Tommy had had enough. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and killed the engine, setting both of his hands on his thighs as he let out a harsh sigh. “Alright…what is it?” he asked the woman sitting to his left.
“What is what?” (Y/N) responded with a curt question of her own, her eyes focused on the road ahead of them.
“You’ve not spoken a word to me since we started driving. What’s on your mind?” he elaborated on his previous question. (Y/N) snorted in response.
“Of course you’d be completely oblivious to it,” she stated, her words dripping with sarcasm. Even though she’d yet to look at him, she could still feel his heavy eyes boring into the side of her face. Her statement was met with silence, and she let it ring for a few moments before letting out a scoff. Bastard wants me to spell it out for him, she thought to herself as she relented and finally looked in his direction. “You really don’t know?” she asked, giving one last chance to redeem himself before she went off on him.
“I wouldn’t be asking if I did,” he answered her in his typical, abrupt fashion.
“You don’t recall the woman at the party?” she tried to jog his memory with a more specific question.
“What woman?” he still wasn’t helping himself.
“The woman that was practically hanging on you; the one looking for your attention? You didn’t seem to notice her? And the fact that she was giving you the ‘please fuck me’ eyes for the entirety of the conversation you were having, whilst I was present?!” she finally let the levee break, her voice inflecting towards the end to let her frustration become known.
“She was discussing business, (Y/N),” came Tommy’s terrible response.
“Business?! What part of her fucking giggles and the batting of her eyelashes had to do anything with your fucking business, Tommy?!”
“Her husband’s money is good. His investment will help our company, and she plays a big part in deciding who he gives it to. So I didn’t take notice to what her fucking eyelashes were doing because that was not of any fucking importance,” he kept his voice level, delivering his statement in a stoic way. He knew better than to rise to meet her level of anger.
“Oh and she’s got a husband!” she exclaimed dramatically, completely disregarding the second half of his statement.
“(Y/N),” there was a warning tone present in his voice now. She was blowing this out of porportion.
“She’s fucking married, and her husband cares about what she thinks before he throws his money around, but yet he doesn’t care that she’s acting like a whore in front of his potential business partners,” (Y/N) broke into a rant, not caring at that moment that she was basically disparaging a woman who she did not know.
At this point, there was nothing that could be done that would quickly clear this up. Her anger was too elevated for that. But there was something that could be said to make this situation so much worse.
“Are you jealous?” Tommy blatantly asked. His question had (Y/N) seeing red.
“Excuse me?” she asked in disbelief, shock quickly filling her features. She spoke in such a way that would usually make most people rescind their statement, but Tommy wasn’t like most people.
“You’re jealous of this woman, aren’t you?” he asked, his eyes flitting over to match hers then as he waited for her answer.
(Y/N)’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to ask such a question outright. A scoff left her lips as she tried to find the words to respond to his statement. Her mind wasn’t computing.
A few tense moments passed before she swung the car door open. Without saying anything, she snatched her purse from the seat and made a move to exit the vehicle.
“Where are you going?” Tommy asked, acting as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on her with the last question. He honestly probably didn’t think he did.
“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” she snapped at him, sending a glare his way before she slammed the car door shut, not caring at all how expensive the vehicle was. And if looks could kill, there would have been a dead man inside the car with the shattered door.
(Y/N) stormed off down the road, not knowing - nor caring - where she was going. The car’s engine came to life behind her, but it didn’t make her break her step, and she didn’t dare look to her right as Tommy pulled up beside her.
“What the fuck are you doing, (Y/N)?” he asked, glancing between her and the road as he continued to drive beside her.
“I’m walking home,” she snapped back at him, still looking straight ahead, “as a matter of fact…I’m not even sure where I’m walking to, but I sure as hell know that I don’t want to be around you right now. So leave me.”
“(Y/N)…”
“Leave me,” she cut him off, finally looking at him so that she could send him one more deadly glare before she continued on her way.
Tommy put his foot on the brake and thought for a moment. There wasn’t anything more he could do now. His efforts would only make the situation worse. With a sigh, he ran his hand along the back of his head before he took his foot off the brake and continued down the road.
(Y/N) watched as the tail-lights faded off into the distance. She let out a huff and tried to calm herself down. Was she acting jealous at the moment? Yeah, probably. But she wouldn’t give Tommy the satisfaction of answering the question he so blatantly asked. She was just lucky that it was still warm out.
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I’m adding taglists in reblogs in hopes that people will actually be tagged.
MASTERLIST
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prickly-paprikash · 7 months
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The Bishop in the first Castlevania season is pure evil who believes himself good. He's nearly every crime and hypocrisy of the Catholic Church distilled into one neat, wrinkly, putrid man. He is easy to hate. He is supposed to be despised and we are expected to cheer and rejoice when Blue Fangs chewed on half this man's face.
He uses god to control and manipulate the powers and people that be. While his belief in god may be true, the church and the faith are more tools for him to retain control. It is glaringly obvious that this man is power-hungry.
There is nothing, and I mean nothing at all redeemable about that asshole.
The Abbott is every conservative relative who genuinely loves you, but is a blind idiot holding on to institutions simply because they are "right".
While the Bishop's character is real, most of us won't encounter him. We see him on the news. I'm not even American (been there once for two weeks) but even I've seen his like on news and media. He's a televangelist who consolidates wealth, clout and power through the fanaticism of his followers. He is drunk on the authority he possesses. His belief in god isn't the point; whether or not he holds faith, the man cares solely about power.
The Abbott is someone in our lives we know well. Your conservative mother who refuses to even show a modicum of tolerance towards queer people. Your father who is buying into the religious side of Youtube and Tiktok. Your brother who has grown up to carry terrifying, fascistic beliefs. Your sister who feels lost and found some semblance of acceptance in a church who still believes women are lesser. Your aunt who despises vaccines. Your uncle who tells you that you should've become a priest or a soldier.
The Abbott, deep down, has some redeeming features. But it's not enough to forgive him for his idiocy.
Ask any child who had to grow up with a religious parent, especially a Catholic or an Evangelical. They fucking love the story of Abraham sacrificing his child to God, and finding a ram in its place.
Evangelicals are bent on this tale. They will always preach that god comes before children. That children and their suffering and their needs must always take a backseat to the word of god.
A trans child asking their parents to understand—their words will fall on deaf ears because god and the holy man told them that 'transgenderism' is a vile philosophy that seeks to groom and twist kids. A college freshman debating with their parents about free healthcare and immigration will be stonewalled because the charismatic preacher said that god will provide. god will heal. god did not invite these foreigners into this land.
It is Maria, begging her father to listen and having her pleas fall on deaf ears.
The Abbott is someone I hate more than the Bishop.
Men like the Bishop exist, but they are few and far in-between.
But the Abbott? The Abbott is someone I share a table with at dinner. He's someone I see during family reunions. He's someone who shares misinformation online, and I see it on my timeline because we're social media friends.
I fucking hate him so much and I hope he gets what's his.
He never deserved Tera. He never once deserved Maria.
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starlight-sev · 3 months
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Joy Looks Good on You (Snape x Artist!Reader)
Request: Snape with an artist reader- she makes gorgeous paintings, teaches an art class at Hogwarts (Bob Ross style, for reference). Doesn't have many students, but when he comes into her classroom its such a calming atmosphere. Maybe a short drabble about how he falls in love with her and her skill with paintings?
Requested by: anon
Warnings: none
A/N: this is more platonic than I had initially intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
Oh! Gender neutral reader as I always try my best to write 💕
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Hogwarts was home to many secrets, one of them being that the school offered painting classes as an elective for those in third year or higher.
Even you were shocked when you first heard about the job posting. You always figured art would be just a hobby of yours. When it came to jobs in the wizarding world, anything to do with art and painting was quite rare to find.
So when you were finally offered the job for art teacher at Hogwarts, to say you were overjoyed would have been an understatement. You never thought you’d be able to turn your love of painting into your career.
Dumbledore had placed you in the North Tower, just below Professor Trelawney’s Divination classroom. Compared to her room, yours was rather small: you only had to walk ten steps and you’d already be at the other side of the room. A handful of round tables with matching wooden chairs had been crammed into the tiny space. There was a small desk nestled in the corner for you to work, along with a shelf against the wall to store your paints and supplies.
Your favourite feature about the room, and perhaps one of its only redeeming qualities, was the large window in the middle of the wall. It was rounded at the top, with an ornate stained glass inlay that covered almost half the window. It was the source of your inspiration on sunny days.
It certainly wasn’t the nicest classroom, and sometimes a theory crossed your mind that your classroom had once been a generously-sized storage closet, but anything was better than being down in the dungeons of the castle.
You glanced up from your own painting to quickly sweep your eyes over the paintings your students were finishing up. You never had more than ten students a year, painting certainly wasn’t a common interest for wizards (much to your disappointment), but it didn’t matter. It gave you the opportunity to grow closer to your students, to get to know everyone’s individual art style. It made you all the more proud when you were able to see how much they progressed over the course of the year.
“Professor?”
You glanced over to see Luna Lovegood, one of your students with the biggest imaginations, waving politely to catch your attention.
“Yes?” You asked softly.
“We won’t have time to finish our paintings this class. I know we’re not supposed to, but since it’s Friday, could we leave our supplies out? We’ll be back first thing on Monday.”
A few other students murmured their agreement. You smiled apologetically, silently cursing that you had given them an assignment far bigger than they had time to complete.
“Of course. That’s fine.” You dismissed everyone with a wave of your hand. “Go on. Enjoy the weekend. And don’t worry about handing in your still life sketches this week, you’ve got enough on your hands with the landscape painting I assigned.”
A handful of cheers erupted among the students, and you smiled as each one nodded and murmured their thanks before leaving.
You stood up from your desk, walking across the room to collect everyone’s paintbrushes one by one.
“Letting your students go without cleaning up after themselves?” A deep voice murmured softly from the doorway. “I’m surprised Y/N, I thought you were more disciplined than that.”
It never failed to startle you, how Severus had this uncanny ability to sneak up silently on you. Usually you’d be able to hear students’ footsteps echoing as they made their way up the stairs to your classroom, but Severus seemed to be able to glide noiselessly around the castle like a ghost.
You set your paintbrushes in the small sink that rested in the corner of your room, smiling in acknowledgement and beckoning the professor to come in.
“It’s Friday,” you answered, grabbing a paintbrush and using your fingers to work the paint out of the bristles. “They’ve got enough going on, I figured I’d give them a bit of a break.”
You heard Severus scoff as he approached you from behind.
“You’re too easy on them.”
“And you’re too hard on your own students, but you don’t see me waltzing into your classroom to nag.”
That earned a soft chuckle from the professor as he stood beside you.
“You can use magic to clean those.” Severus observed, nodding toward your fingers as you worked the leftover paint out of the brush.
“I know I can,” you shrug, watching the water beneath the brush turn a bright turquoise. “But I prefer not to. Helps me clear my mind a bit.”
“Hm.” Was the small response you got in reply. To your surprise, Severus reached into the sink and grabbed a paintbrush, mimicking your movements as he began cleaning it.
“Oh,” you exclaimed softly. “It’s okay, I can do that-”
“Too late,” Severus retorted, casting a quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve already started.”
The two of you scrubbed brushes in silence, and you just barely caught Severus let out a small, tired sigh. As you placed your final brush to the side to dry, you glanced at him.
“Rough day today?”
You had to hold in your giggles as he answered your question with the biggest eye roll you’d ever seen.
“That’s putting it lightly,” he muttered.
“Come,” you beckoned as you sat down in one of the empty seats in the middle of the class. You nodded for Severus to join you as you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat. “Tell me about it. What happened? Was it Potter again?
You smirked at the eye roll Severus gave you in response before tiredly making his way over to the seat across from you.
“Someone’s been stealing supplies for a Polyjuice potion,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have reasons to believe it’s Potter and his dunderhead friends.”
You bit back a smile, and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s him? Do you have evidence?”
“Trouble follows him wherever he goes, isn’t that evidence enough?”
You had trouble holding in a giggle, and Severus glared at you.
“He’s brewed Polyjuice potion before.” Severus continued. “It’s the only thing he can actually do well. And those specific ingredients keep going missing.”
You frown a little and shook your head.
“Really, Severus. I don’t know what you have against that boy, but you’ve got to give him a break,” you encouraged gently. “He’s got enough on his shoulders right now, with the Triwizard Tournament going on.”
“And what if he is stealing from my supplies?” Severus retorted.
“What if he isn’t?” You challenged calmly. Severus sighed again, shaking his head as he gazed at you.
“Should we place bets on whether it’s Potter who’s stealing from you?” You asked jokingly, leaning forward in your seat with a smirk. Severus pressed his lips together in a thin line.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because every damned time we make a bet, you win.”
You snickered at Severus’ remark, before standing up from your seat and placing your hand reassuringly on the professor’s shoulder. He looked up at you with dark eyes that warmed very slightly at your touch.
“I truly do not know how you always manage to see the good in people.” He murmured, sighing tiredly. You squeezed his shoulder lightly.
“I just… see the good in everything I guess.” You shrugged. “Even things that seem terrible can be beautiful, if they’re in the right lighting.”
Severus let out a little snort at your comment, shaking his head.
“C’mon grumpypants,” you teased lightly, patting your friend on the back. “I know what’ll cheer you up.”
You walked over to your desk and opened the far left drawer. Upon hearing the dull scrape of wood as the drawer pulled open, Severus looked over at you with the tiniest smile.
“Have you added any teas to your collection?” He asked. He kept a somewhat level expression, but you couldn’t help but grin at the hint of a hopeful tone in his voice.
“I went to Hogsmeade last weekend and got a few more. Some just for you. Come over here and pick one, I’ll put the kettle on.”
Severus stood up just as you moved to the corner of the room to fill the kettle. You noticed out of the corner of your eye how shadow-like he was: the way his cloak billowed slightly as he almost seemed to glide over to your desk.
You heard a few papers rustle as you filled the kettle, and that’s when your heart stopped.
Oh no, oh god no.
You forgot to move your sketchbook, bloody hell.
Maybe Severus was looking at something else, you thought to yourself. Maybe you misheard and he was only rifling through your tea stash-
“Is this… me?”
Nope. He found it. Shit.
You set the kettle down slowly, your hands trembling as you felt a rush of heat fly up to your cheeks.
“S-Sorry?”
You kept your eyes glued to the teacups on the small wooden countertop, trying your best not to cringe as you continued to hear pages being flipped over gently.
“Y/N…” Severus murmured. “You drew these?”
You chewed your lip, just about ready to sink through the floorboards at this point.
“Y-yes.” Your voice came out as a small squeak, barely even intelligible.
You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard gentle footsteps approach you from behind.
“Turn around,” Severus encouraged softly. Clenching your jaw, you tried to ignore the burning heat in your cheeks as you shuffled around to face Severus.
His dark eyes were swirling with so many emotions, you genuinely couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It terrified you. You looked down, and saw that he was holding one of your sketches in his hand.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t show those to anyone, they’re just for me to practice with…”
“This is how you see me?”
You heard Severus‘ voice catch in his throat, and you looked up to see his features had softened into a gentle and almost sad expression. You lowered your gaze to his hands again, taking a closer look at the sketch he brought over.
It was from the Yule Ball a few months ago. You had sketched Severus during dinner after you saw him throw his head back in a hearty laugh, thanks to a dirty joke Professor Sprout had casually dropped at the staff table that night. You couldn’t remember the joke for the life of you, but you’d never forget the way Severus’ eyes lit up with a rare joy few ever saw. Nor would you forget the way his hair curled that night, perfectly framing his face and making him look almost angelic.
“Joy looks good on you.” You explained in the tiniest whisper, pressing your lips together nervously. “I… that was one of my first times seeing you laugh, and I just…”
You trailed off, silently cursing the fact that your face was still as red as ever. Finally, to your relief, Severus set your sketch down. But when you looked up at him, you noticed his eyes were glassy.
Was he… crying?
“Oh.” You gasp softly. “Oh no, I’m sorry. It’s a terrible drawing, I know-”
Severus shook his head. “Stop bloody apologizing. It’s beautiful. All your sketches are. I had no idea.”
“Well, you weren’t supposed to find out.” You muttered, laughing your nerves out softly. Your heart nearly stopped as Severus reached out, gently cradling your hands in his.
“Thank you.” He murmured quietly. “For… what you said.”
You frowned. “What did I say?”
“About… seeing the joy in me,” he replied. “That’s perhaps the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Your heart sank as you took in Severus’ words. You looked up, your soft eyes meeting his dark ones.
“It’s true.” You said simply. “It doesn’t take an expert to see you’ve been through some real shit, Sev. You deserve to be happy.”
Severus froze at your words, unsure of what to do or how to react. Then, to your surprise, he took one more step forward and closed the distance between the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you, and you nearly gasped at how tightly he held you to him. You returned his embrace without hesitation, finally calming after the initial scare of Severus finding your sketches. He was warm. You could get used to this feeling.
“Thank you, Y/N.” You heard Severus whisper.
“For what?” You asked back just as softly.
“Showing me how you see the world. How you see… me.”
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woodlaflababab · 2 months
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Aang's forgiveness @ Zuko always hits me so hard and I think it's because it's more than forgiveness. I think Aang truly understands where Zuko is coming from on an almost painful level.
I mean like, if someone told Aang there was a way he could go back home, that there was a way to bring back all the people he lost, how much would Aang be willing to do for that? How much of himself would he lose and sacrifice just for that chance?
Also, when Zuko comes to ask to join them the second time, he says "I've been through a lot in the past few years, and it's been hard. But I'm realizing that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought I had lost my honor, and that somehow my father could return it to me."
This sounds like the mash up of a few things Aang has said, from when he met baby Hope, "I've been going through a really hard time lately," (a hard time that has led to him doing things he regrets) and when he woke up after Ba Sing Se "I need to redeem myself. I need my honor back." (An idea that led to him making a bad decision) Aang knows that it has been the process of going through these struggles that have made him who he is.
And then to quote some tags from @theavatarandthefirelord from this post "#he's thinking about their relationship esp since their moments in The Storm/The Blue Spirit #also the way aang sees himself reflected in zuko as well #primarily with him burning katara but also moments like in The Desert #and losing control in the Avatar State"
Aang also relates to Zuko's anger issues. He intimately knows the mindset that leads someone to do bad things and, unlike the others (for example Katara) Aang also understand the guilt and regret that comes after it, the same guilt and regret Zuko shows in this scene.
Zuko doesn't just explain himself, he explains Aang as well.
I love the forgiveness trope that's so often featured in this ship, esp in fics, and part of why I love it is because it's not blind forgiveness, it's 'I've been there, and I could've gone down similar paths given different circumstances, to forgive you is to forgive myself'
And I just think that's so beautiful.
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st4rgzer · 3 months
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something stupid (matt sturniolo)
summary: fic based on the song "something stupid" by Frank Sinatra!!
genre: fluff
cw!: swearing, kissing
a/n: i’ve been having a rough week so far and i just haven’t been writing much, i hope you enjoy this<3
"and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, i love you"
The soft gleam of candles illuminates entirely the small bar, accentuating his features, softening them at the same time. You feel entranced, dazed as both of you exchange the same lovesick look, infatuated by one another.
You break the moment, clearing your throat, instantly regretting it, cursing your awkwardness for getting in the way of you both.
"um…we should get going, right?" You coughed, looking away timidly. It seems that the moment things start getting serious, real, you sabotage your happiness, it happened more than often.
Matt looks slightly confused, but he’s still gripping onto the small moment shared a few seconds ago, he smiles to himself.
"yeah, it is getting late" He checks the time, sighing, not wanting this date to come to an end, cursing time for going so quickly. He still wanted to hang on to any more time he could share alongside you.
"would you want to maybe get some ice cream?" He makes up on the spot, stumbling over his words slightly, trying to disguise his eager nervousness with a grin, making him seem cocky, even if you could see right through him.
"sure! should we- should we go now?" you cringed over your stupid question, trying not to seem to eager to expand the time together.
He smiled in relief. You grabbed your jacket and pushed your chair in. The check had already been paid, by a very insistent Matt, of course.
Both of you exited the restaurant, exchanging shy smiles. Matt interlocked hands with you, nervously, trying not to seem very forward.
The bright neon ice cream shop sign contrasted with the darkness of the night, easily distinguishable. You ordered a cherry cone and Matt, vanilla and chocolate swirl.
You and Matt stayed in silence for a while, taking in the admirable view of the stars, that were especially beautiful that night, maybe it was just you but, they shined particularly brighter.
"do you like the ice cream?" Matt asked, furrowing his brows at the stupid attempt to break the silence, wishing now that he had said something better.
"yes! do you wanna try?, here, it’s really really good" You smiled, offering your cone to him, he handed you his cone in exchange.
His face scrunched up in disgust, quickly trying to hide it from you.
"its- really good!…" He sounded very unconvincing, you burst out laughing at him trying to convince you that he actually liked it, which was oddly sweet, you admired his efforts.
"how do you not like it?!" you said between laughs, looking at him in shock, a smile wide on your face, same as him.
"i- guess i don’t like cherry?" he smiled, laughing as well, a pink tint coming up to his cheeks, he thanked the darkness right now.
"well i don’t like your vanilla-chocolate swirl" You said defiantly, handing him back his cone, he laughed, shaking his head at your childish remarks.
Time passed, and both of your ice creams were in the trash. You tucked your hands in your pockets, the wind picking up slightly.
In this moment, the both of you were stood in the middle of a vacant street, the shine of the lamp post taking you back to the bar, remembering how much you loved seeing this in this lighting.
Your perfume infatuated him, in the right way. It made him want to be closer to you. There was such a subtle breeze, swerving his hair to the side slightly.
"i love you" He blurts out, widening his eyes at the realization to what he had said.
"i-" You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, still processing the sentence in your head.
"shit- sorry, i- i didn’t think before saying, fuck- i’m sorry for spoiling this, i-" He tried to redeem himself, an evident sorry look on his face.
Instead of saying anything, you closed the little space in between you, lacing your lips together, softly. He slowly eased into the kiss, cupping your cheeks with his hands, pressing closer- if that was even possible. You both pulled apart to breathe, Matt looked at you, his mouth slightly agape, enamored.
"I love you too, stupid" You laughed, softly uttering the words, gently stroking his cheek, running your finger over the light stubble of his jaw.
A weight fell off his shoulders, relieved that you weren’t taken back, terrified of the thought of scaring you off.
Your arms draped over his shoulders, and placed a small kiss on his cheek, making the grin on his face all the more wider. He had forgotten about the time, that being the least of his worries. He could die happily right now.
Then of course, it was spoiled, Matts phone rang, making you jolt slightly.
"im going to kill Nick." He sighed, already missing the feeling of your arms on him, knowing the night was coming to an end.
You smile to yourself, grateful for Matt’s stupidity, "i love you" was the perfect thing to say, even if it didn’t seem like it.
taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @gabbylovesreading @iha8you @slaysturniolo @strnlsblog @ssturniolo @stvrni0lo @sturniololoverr
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rinixo · 1 year
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sulfur and granite
Din Djarin/Reader | 2.7k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, Jealous Din Djarin, smut, piv sex, semi-intense consensual sex, aftercare.
On a short detour to Tattooine, you are introduced to the Marshal. Mando is definitely not jealous.
Non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi.
a/n: I imagine Mando would not know how to comfortably express feelings of jealousy/possessiveness right away, but ultimately would be respectful towards his partner's desires.
read on ao3
You weren’t sure what planet you’d choose if you had to pick your favorite, but you were fairly certain that Tattooine wouldn’t even make your top ten. You had only been there a few times, and each time you had left with an uncomfortable amount of sand in an uncomfortable amount of places. The only redeeming quality in your eyes were the brilliant binary sunsets the arid rock offered, but even then there were hundreds of other places in the galaxy where you could see those.
When Mando charted course for Tattooine, you bit your tongue. He said he needed to talk to an ‘old friend’ in some tiny, middle-of-nowhere town, and seeing as you were along for the ride, you steeled yourself for another day of brushing sand out of all of your clothing.
Mando had not given you much information, which you didn’t particularly mind. This was mainly a detour on your journey through the galaxy – some kind of favor he needed to repay or something, you surmised. His ‘old friend’ was only described as ‘The Marshal’, and you wondered what kind of law enforcement a syndicated crime planet like Tattooine could even harbor.
Mando landed the Crest on the outskirts of the city one late afternoon. You, Grogu, and your armored patron walked the short distance into the town to where a man dressed in red was waiting for you.
“Good to see you,” the man called out, moving forward to grasp Mando’s arm in greeting. You hung back slightly, feeling a little out of your element when the man happened to glance past the bounty hunter and catch your gaze.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” The Marshal sauntered forward, an easy grin matching his easy gait. He was quite handsome, you decided. Nice peppery-gray hair, eyes lined with laughter. He reached out for your hand, which you gave with a quiet giggle as he brought it to his lips.
“Don’t tell me she’s one of your bounties, Mando.” The Marshal directed at the Mandalorian as he kissed the back of your hand flirtatiously. “Cause I might be tempted to play the hero and rescue her from your clutches-“
“She’s helping me on my journey,” Mando interrupted flatly. There was a wink of humor in the Marshal’s gaze as he released your hand, only to wrap one arm around your shoulder.
“Well, then, welcome,” he exclaimed. “Any friend of Mando’s is a friend of mine, er…?”
You shared your name, and the man began to walk you toward what you assumed was the local cantina. It was past midday, and it looked like the building was the gathering place for most of the locals as they ended the day. Several people greeted the Marshal as he pointed out different landmarks to you, indicating that he was just as popular among his people as you would have assumed based on his appearance and looks alone.
Mando trailed along just slightly behind the two of you, Grogu tucked in his sack at his side.
“Can I buy you a drink?” The Marshal asked, motioning to the bartender. Two glasses of blue liquor were poured, and the charming man held one out to you.
“Sure,” you smiled. It had been a while since you had let yourself indulge. Even on the rare occasions you and Mando stopped someplace with alcohol, it was mainly for information or to pick up supplies to take on the go. Not to mention the fact that Mando never took off his helmet.
The Marshal – who you later found out was named Cobb Vanth – clinked his glass against yours and the two of you took healthy swigs of the slightly sour drink. Wincing, you matched the handsome man’s grin as he leaned casually against the bar.
“So tell me,” he drawled, swirling his drink In his glass. “What’s a girl like you doing hanging around a Mandalorian bounty hunter?”
You vaguely registered Mando hovering off to the side. He did not ask for a drink, nor did you think he would accept if one was even offered. You glanced over at him, wondering if you should defer to him – he had wanted to come to Freetown to speak with the Marshal, who was currently more fixated on you. On the other hand…it had been a while since you had a chance to talk to someone who wasn’t a literal child.
Turning to focus your attention on Cobb, you explained your background and talked generally about what you were doing for Mando. You left out most of the details in the interest of protecting both his and Grogu’s safety but were secretly delighted that the man did not pry for answers. Instead, he asked questions about you – where you were from, your research, your favorite parts of the galaxy you had seen thus far. He had a charming way of speaking, and a quick wit, and you found yourself losing track of time as the conversation flowed steadily into the evening.
At some point, Cobb had procured a small table for the two of you, and you perched on the edge of your seat as he explained how he had come to meet the Mandalorian. He laughed at how your jaw dropped during the tale of how Mando had flown into the mouth of a krayt dragon to blow it up from the inside. You spared another glace towards the bounty hunter, who hadn’t moved since you had entered the cantina. His helmet was fixed on you, and though you couldn’t see his eyes something told you his gaze was fixed on you. The feeling sent a slight shiver up your spine.
Seeming to notice, Cobb reached out and placed a calloused hand over your own. “It has truly been a pleasure,” he smiled. “But I better go speak to Mando before he burns a hole through both our heads.” You returned his smile and stood – albeit a little wobbly from the several drinks you had consumed over the past hour or so.
The Marshal beckoned for someone to come over, and explained that they would show you to a room you could stay in for the night. As he did so, Mando walked over, his bulk just millimeters from your back. You opened your mouth to greet him, but he just handed you Grogu in his sack and asked that you take the now-sleeping baby with you.
“Of course,” you said, gently taking the child into your arms. “See you later?”
Mando did not answer you and instead took your seat across from Cobb. The Marshal wished you a good night, and you followed the young woman he had procured to show you to your room.
--
An hour later, you were freshly bathed and had changed into a clean set of clothes. The room was decently sized, if not a bit dusty from lack of use. It held one large bed along with several chairs and a small table and was attached to a small side room that had a smaller bed. You had tucked Grogu into the smaller bed in the side room, closing the door gently so that you could prepare for sleep without waking him up.
You laid against the pillows and were browsing your datapad when the sound of the door sliding open signaled the arrival of Mando. You watched him clunk into the room over the top of your datapad. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, a tension in the atmosphere having followed him in. “Where’s the kid?” He asked, and you pointed to the side room. He walked over to the door and opened it slightly to peer inside. Satisfied, he gently closed it and continued to stand there in the middle of the room.
“Have a good chat?” You asked, breaking the frigid silence after it became clear he was not going to. Mando settled into a chair heavily, spreading his legs and resting his arms on those of the chair.
“Was gonna ask you the same thing,” he rasped in response, and you raised a brow in question.
“What do you mean?” You asked, tapping a nail against the side of your datapad. Mando raised one shoulder in a half-shrug.
“You two seemed to hit it off.”
“Who? Me and Cobb?” You set down your datapad and crossed your arms. “He was nice.”
You could hardly believe the scoff you heard from the man. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”
“Are you jealous?”
“…No.”
“You are,” you expanded, uncrossing your arms and swinging your legs over to hang over the side of the bed. “You’re upset that he was flirting with me, aren’t you?”
Mando was silent, and you wondered if his jaw was clenched under that helmet. You looked at him expectantly, and he sighed.
“I’m not upset,” you tried to clarify. “I think that’s just how he is. It’s ok to be jealous, Mando.”
“I am not jealous,” he grit out, and you tried to hide a smirk. Standing, you swayed over to stand in front of him. You were wearing an old oversized tunic that came just above your knees, and not much else. You stepped in between his spread thighs, your bare legs bumping against his armor. Even sitting, his head was nearly level with your own. Were you pushing it, standing naked from the waist down in between the legs of a dangerous and definitely jealous man? Perhaps.
“Then why were you staring at us the whole time?” You teased. “Mad that your friend was talking to me and not you?”
“I was waiting for him to make a move,” Mando interrupted. “To touch you.”
“Yeah?” You queried, and in a burst of bravery, you sat lightly on one of his broad thighs. You felt him tense underneath you, even through the armor, and resettle his weight back In the chair to support you more firmly. “What was your plan if he had made a move?”
One of his gloved hands came to rest on your bare thigh, and he slowly pulled it towards him, forcing your legs to spread slightly. His hand rubbed soft circles into your flesh, and you shifted so that your back was supported against the side of the chair.
“Hauling you over my shoulder and back into my ship,” Mando husked, hand venturing further up your thigh, under the hem of the long tunic. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed lightly over your bare cunt. “And reminding you.”
One of his fingers ran up and down your slit, and you shifted again, trying to get him to put more pressure where you wanted it. “Remind me of what?” You asked breathlessly. Mando’s other hand crept up your back to grip your neck, forcing you to arch in his lap. He stood, hauling you up against him with ease. He half-dragged you over to the bed, sitting down so that he could pull you up against his back into his lap.
“This,” he said simply, spreading your thighs wider and grinding his hips up into your backside. You could feel him, hot and hard under his flight suit, and you let out a low moan at the sensation. One hand roamed over your shaking thighs, playing with the slick gathering between your legs, while the other came up to cross against your chest, holding you tightly against him.
“I was thinking,” Mando continued, sounding almost casual in his tone and timbre, “Of how to show you what you’d be missing. How to show other men that you spend your nights in my bed.”
You licked your lips, feeling air-light as he rasped through the modulator into your ear. His fingers between your legs alternated from pinching your swollen clit to probing your entrance.
“That’s what I was thinking,” he said lowly. “What were you thinking, wicked girl?”
“I’m thinking you should just fuck me already,” you gasped out, and Mando laughed. It echoed through your blank mind like smoke, and your eyes fluttered closed as two of his thick fingers slid tightly inside of you, thumb pressing against your clit. Your hips bucked at the sensation, only to be held tight in his iron grip.
“Can you be quiet?” Mando asked throatily, and you could feel the rumble of it from his chest. “The kid is sleeping…and who knows who else might be listening?”
“I thought you wanted them to know,” you whimpered, and his grip on you loosened for a millisecond before he stood and flipped you face-first onto the bed. The back of your tunic was pushed up as he pushed your shoulders down to the mattress, and dragged your hips up toward where he stood behind you.
“Keep quiet,” he gruffed out, and you heard the familiar sound of his belt coming undone and felt his bare hips warm against your ass. “You only cry for me, understand?”
“Y-ye-“ you barely had a chance to respond before he shoved his throbbing cock into you, punching the air out of your lungs in one solid thrust. Keening, you let your head fall against your arms as Mando gripped your hips firmly and began a steady, brutal pace.
He spread your thighs as wide as they would go so that you could take all of him in with every thrust. Something about his hands on your hips and the way he moved you felt necessary – deep, intense thrusts that would resist anything except acceptance from him. The bed creaked from his weight against your body, along with the rich sound of his hips slapping against yours.
The superiority of this angle made you focus on the place where he filled you like it was the center of your universe. You bit into the flesh of your arm in an attempt to silence the keening cries that wanted to escape from your throat. Mando groaned above you, and his pace quickened.
“This what you wanted?” he husked lowly. “To come on my cock? Come on, wicked girl, come on-“
You choked out a wordless plea as his weight came down across your thighs, and his cock rammed as far as it could go. You knew you would feel the ache of him inside of you for days.
“M-mando-“ you keened again, and you felt his grip on your hips clench harder.
“Gotta be quiet,” he rasped. “Want them to hear how you’re spread open for my cock?” You could feel your orgasm approaching like a ship preparing to exit hyperspace. You were sure nothing in your life would ever feel as good, as full, as right as the heavy weight of his cock inside of you.
The frantic clutch of your cunt wrung from Mando his own release. He all but collapsed onto you, wrapping you up so that you disappeared into his embrace. You came with a muffled scream, your leg going numb from the release of tension and the weight of the man fucking his semen into you.
Not allowing you reprieve, Mando groaned and collapsed onto his side, rolling you so that you were pressed up against him. His iron-hard cock was still inside of you, throbbing its release, and his hand came down between your legs to tweak at your clit. “Again,” he demanded, and you threw your head back and hit it against his helmet. He shoved the fingers of his other hand into your mouth to silence your cries as you came again, obediently, at the clumsy push of his fingers against your sore cunt.
Your body jerked against him, twitching from the edge of overstimulation. His cock, still streaming cum, slid out of you, pulsing the last of his release over your flushed entrance. For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of your breaths easing back from near hyperventilation. Mando’s grip on you was still possessive, but he shushed you gently and murmured praise into the back of your neck, hands circling your skin to ground your consciousness back down to him.
After that, Mando gently slid from behind you and lifted you into his arms. Your legs still shook from the onslaught, and he carried you quietly to the refresher where he helped you wipe yourself clean.
“All right?” He murmured as he brought a soft cloth to your inner thighs. You smiled sleepily and leaned your head forward to lay against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the cold metal.
“If that wasn’t you being jealous,” you whispered, “Maybe next time I should flirt back.”
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toshiirou · 1 year
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racism in Nintendo 2: electric boogaloo
hello and welcome back it is i, once more. to talk about the elephant in the room that has reappeared in the release of the totk designs. a suspiciously green elephant i might say
this is of course about ganon
i have made a few posts before about ganon - about how it's not anti-racist to 'redeem' his role as an all-evil villain by sexualising him; about the fan response to the first totk trailer and the rehydrated ganondorf trend; and how other characters (namely link) do not get the same treatment that ganon gets for similar design features.
what i want to give today is a more straightforward explanation of 1. why it is bad that ganon is green (yes, it is in fact bad) and 2. the orientalism inherent in his totk design. i know a lot of people find him hot, and might become defensive that i'm pointing out features that they enjoy. the fact of the matter is that the sexualisation of totk ganon is done by deliberately playing upon erotic orientalist tropes and this is something that shouldn't be ignored for personal comfort.
so to start. the green skin. im going to quote an article called Greenface: Exploring green skin in contemporary Hollywood cinema by Brady Hammond, which can be summed up by the arguement in the
"article [is] that as overtly racist cinematic depictions associated with real-world skin colors – particularly black skin – have decreased, Hollywood cinema has relocated those tropes onto green skin."
and I agree. I've talked about coding before in relation to loz, and it is no stretch to consider that a character can be representative of some particular demographic(s) without replicating their features in their entirety.
Without doubt it is straightforward to say that ganon represents a brown or black man. The gerudo are heavily inspired by the SWANA region, and not to mention that most of the gerudo indeed have a brown skin tone. botw having lighter and darker skinned gerudo is still representative of the SWANA region and the variety of looks we have there.
and thus coding done with ganon's design - intentional or otherwise - cannot escape the racial implications that ganon is very clearly a brown or black man. which means negative coding that coincides with preexisting racist coding and racial stereotypes will carry those same racist undertones. none of it is undermined by that nintendo is a Japanese company or that this is a fictional world in a video game. deliberate design choices made by real people can't be absolved from racism when it's convenient
to start:
"David Batchelor states that ‘color has been the object of extreme prejudice in Western culture’. This prejudice, he argues, manifests itself by either dismissing color outright as ‘superficial’ or by denigrating it and ‘[making it] out to be the property of some “foreign” body – usually the feminine, the oriental, the primitive, the infantile, the vulgar, the queer or the pathological’."
and
"More importantly, given the ability of the cinema screen to render fantastic spaces and colors it is necessary to consider how characters are represented when they feature an unnatural or even impossible skin color."
the gerudo have always had an orientalist lens laid over them. ganon has always had strong animalistic associations, and has appeared non-human a number of times. this was fine before nintendo retconned him to specifically be a brown man from a group that are explicitly human in the same way that hylians are human and other round-eared people in the loz franchise are human. it is racist to seperate the gerudo exclusively from other human groups as having explicitly non-human characteristics given their prolific role as the first group of brown humans in tloz, and the most foreign and exoticized group of humans.
to give ganon green skin is thusly, a way that implicitly denies his humanity. and it becomes pointed when this primitive and animalistic coding occurs most frequently to the brown man villain. now that totk revived ganon as a humaoid it becomes more pointed that he's denied the same human skintone of the rest of the gerudo, and it's quite frankly upsetting to see this happen and to be glossed over.
more specifically. green has preexisting racist associations for black and brown characters specifically. that is because green has long been used in media to depict the racialised other by linking them with real world negative racist stereotypes. an example given in the article "in Star Trek (1966-1969) when an alien woman of the Orion race dances. Her skin is an emerald green and she is both hyper-feminine and an alien Other." not commented upon but which is more evidence to the racial stereotyping of green skin is that the orion woman is depicted in a distinctly orientalist manner: with a hypersexualized outfit and routine that is reminiscent of belly dancer fantasies. the low light, setting choices, and recurring theme of the slave women dancing provocatively plays upon the western imaginations of the Harem.
as you can see:
Tumblr media
other examples of the green other include orcs (with their own swath of racial stereotypes), the grinch, aliens, gremlins, goblins, etc. what often occurs is that green characters are concurrently linked to ethnic stereotypes through coding that is brought together in the fantasy realm by their green skin. that coding may include racism, orientalism, xenophobia, antisemitism, anti-indigenous stereotypes or so on. it is clear that ganon representing a brown/black man brings with it negative coding in the game as the only villain, his animalistic associations, his domineering violence that stands apart from the primarily female gerudo, and as the racialised other. this coding would still exist if he was not green. but it is an affront to dignity to remove the humanity of a brown man by also making him green.
if i have not yet lost you then to wrap up: the fetishizing other. as established with his coding, ganon's humanity is put into question with his design, and he can be linked to the SWANA region. evocative of a harem is the only (violent and dangerous) man from a group of women who are hidden away, and is explicitly a danger to both them and western/hylian rule and ideology.
His imagery is paired with similar design choices made for the gerudo women to sexualize him and invoke imagery of the sexy orient, the beast that can be tamed, and so on. This is done primarily with his torso being bare while he wears gold jewelry, in a way almost reminiscent of chains or cuffs. brown and black men are fetishized through sexualising them as erotic beasts, which is clear to the image that totk ganon's design presents. even the toe rings play into this - as a practice with a long history in India as worn by married women (and men, in Tamil culture).
much akin to the face veil for women, brown and black men are often sexualised through (usually gold) jewelry. specifically (like with the veil) the juxtaposition between their lack of full covering (bare torso is most common) and the abundance of ornamental jewelry. it shows their body as this exotic, decorated prize, where their nudity is highlighted by what they do wear. [this remains true despite the real world groups in the swana region that have traditionally topless outfits for men. that sort of respectful and researched depiction of cultural outfits it not what is happening here, clearly]
[note: there are clear elements of ganon's outfit that have a noticeable influence of the samurai, and the outfit is not exclusively made from one source. however the features of the outfit that i am mentioning, the jewellery, toe ring, even the trousers, are not part of the samurai aspect. it is in conjunction with the other coding and features that ganon having a bare torso becomes anything more significant]
which all goes to say that totk ganon's design continues Nintendo's legacy of racism. He is simultaneously dehumanised and sexualised - which only serves to further his dehumanisation. I am not going to ask for or address his role as a villain, what I want is just a modicum of respect.
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