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[god-complex-12]

Go check out my alternate account where I write short stories (not fanfiction)

Here’s one based around the Kuru disease

Kuru disease is a disease contracted by eating a human brain. It causes you to go manic and laugh uncontrollably. This is about a boy living in poor conditions and his parents forced him into cannibalism (this part is vaguely wrote about, not in detail). It’s about all his symptoms and how it affected him.

[god-complex-12]

Atychiphobia II

— Paring; Cpt. John Price x male reader. Fandom; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Atychiphobia: (n.) fear of failure; fear of not being good enough

Quote; “When you repent, you make a promise to turn away from the sin… abandon it. But, Jonathan… you are my sin, and I am incapable of abandoning my love for you.”

Disclaimer; Mention of religion. Reader is an Angel. Religious based. Christianity. Talks of sinning. Reader is a fallen Angel. Descriptions of pain and blood. Not an accurate representation of Christianity. God is referred to as “father” and is depicted as slightly cruel. Kissing. Crying. Praying. Begging for forgiveness. Religious trauma. Tending to wounds. Reader is in the bath. John helps Y/N in the bath.

Word Count: 1.0k

Masterlist; part I

A/N: Please note that I do not believe this is how God truly is, this is for the sake of entertainment purposes only.

John is speechless as he stares at the torn and bloodied skin of his comrade. It’s revolting. Though this is nowhere near the worst John has ever seen, what brings him to a shake is what used to be in its place. Wings? No, that couldn’t be possible. Y/N had never had wings. Heaven and hell existed? John isn’t sure if that was something he wished was confirmed. He’s damned. But so is Y/N. Damned because of him, perhaps.

John gently poured the disinfectant onto the massive wounds. Y/N shuddered and sobbed. He wasn’t used to pain. Suddenly he felt unmeasurably weak. He’s mortal. This wasn’t fair. Since when was love a sin? And why was the punishment so cruel? Y/N’s fists balled, and his jaw clenched.

“Relax.” John whispered in the softest voice his gruff voice could manage. “It’ll pass.” He gently washed the dry blood from Y/N’s back. The warm water stung horribly, making Y/N tremble more. He sobbed silently into his hands. John was overwhelmed, but he didn’t let that stop him from taking care of the now man in front of him.

John dried his hands off on the towel next to him. He heard Y/N begin to whisper as he opened the box of medical supplies next to him. He knew what he was doing. “Y/N, stop.” He said sternly. However, Y/N did not stop. He continued to whisper to himself like a mad man. Whispering what, both of them knew, was a prayer that would fall on deaf ears. “Shh,” John shushed, “please.” He ran his hand over Y/N’s bare shoulder, he gently pushed the fallen angel a bit forward to gain better access to his wounds.

Padding the area with a cloth, Y/N made a pained noise and began praying more vigorously. John dried the area, and he wrapped Y/N’s torso in plaster. “He forgives all,” John whispered, “but why not you?” He pulled the sobbing soldier back towards him.

“Because I can’t seem to make a change.” He wiped his useless tears, getting a handful of water and drawing his flushed face. His voice trembles, as does his body. “When you repent, you make a promise to turn away from the sin… abandon it. But, Jonathan… you are my sin, and I am incapable of abandoning my love for you.”

“Your holy position is more important than man’s attention, is it not?”

“No.” Y/N said firmly. “Not when that man is you. I am a disgrace for committing the blasphemous act of loving one more than my creator. Not only have I chosen man over God, but I have committed a sacrilege act in allowing lust to cloud my faith.”

“Lust?” John questioned. “Do you mean this is all just lust?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and he spun around, water sloshing over the side of the tub. His wet hands grab John’s knee in an act of desperation. “No, no. This is love. I love you more than anything, and that is a problem. I am referring to the time we’ve gone farther than just touching hands. That was lust.”

“Was it?” John asked, his hand gently trailing up the side of the Fallen Angel’s neck, pushing around the wet strands of hair that clung to Y/N’s skin. “Because I didn’t sleep with you for the sake of your body.” He leaned closer. “I did it for the sake of love. The passion. I hold myself back, so when it happens, it feels even better.”

“That is why we are supposed to wait till marriage bonds us, though even then, Father would not be accepting of devious acts unless it is to reproduce… which I am unable to do either with man or woman.”

“This isn’t about his rules. This is about you and me. I don’t care about his incorrect judgment, and neither should you. His judgment only brought you immense pain. Should you still speak highly of a God who causes you only suffering?”

Y/N was stunned for a moment, stumbling to find the right words, but the pain, overwhelming reality, the closeness of their lips, it made his mind bug out. “I- He did not only cause me suffering. He has also given me life!” He sat on his knees. “If not for his orders, we would have never met!”

“Then why does he punish you when he was the one who caused us to love?” A silence engulfs them. Y/N is speechless, and he feels his breath quicken with each passing second. It’s all too much. His chest feels heavy, and he feels as though someone had covered his face with a pillow and watched him squirm around for a pocket of air. “Let us love without him, Y/N. Let me love you.”

“Okay,” Y/N whispered, almost inaudibly.

Suddenly, John’s lips find Y/N’s, leaning down in his seat as he kisses Y/N with a tenderness he’s never held before. John can help but keep leaning forward, if not for his own gear, he would just go ahead and get in the bath as well.

[god-complex-12]

[god-complex-12]

heyy, idk if youre the god-complex-12 that's on c.ai, but i hope u are, because I was just chatting with one of your bots, Levi Ackerman, and it suddenly stopped working, it gives me an error whenever I try to text it or it says its just unavailable, did you delete it? I hope u didn't, this was literally my fav bot of all time

Ima be honest I have a new acc now, it’s Am0s_1. But it was working fine when i checked and holy shit 6 million interactions? Man..

[god-complex-12]

Right as always

I’m listening….

[god-complex-12]

"are you in love with my wife" marc be so fucking fr right now who isn't

[god-complex-12]

Ahem-

[god-complex-12]

Loml 😻

[god-complex-12]

Atychiphobia

— Paring; Capt. John Price x male reader. Fandom; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Atychiphobia: (n.) fear of failure; fear of not being good enough

Quote; “You’re perfect.” “Not anymore.”

Description; An Angel falling in love with a human is sinful is the face of judgment, and is to be dissipated. Disclaimer; Reader is an Angel. Religious based. Christianity. Talks of sinning. Reader is a fallen Angel. Descriptions of pain. Not an accurate representation of the religion. God is referred to as “Father”. Kissing. Tears. Praying. Begging for forgiveness. More of the reader’s relationship with God rather than the reader’s relationship with John. Religious trauma.

Word Count: 0.6k

Masterlist

Over the hundreds and hundreds of years Y/N has lived, he has never once thought he would find himself here. Y/N loved being a Guardian Angel. He found a passion for protecting those who deserve it, and that feeling of joy he got when his Father assigned him to a human was indescribable. It was no different when he was assigned Jonathan Price.

As the Angel slowly worked his way into the man’s life, over years of working with him. He found an attachment to the man, but brushed it off because he does that with every human. He finds himself in Task Force 141, second in command to Captain John Price. Though it wasn’t hard for the Angel to work himself up to that status and he could even surpass Jonathan, but he doesn’t need a high status. All Y/N needs is to watch over this man.

“Jonathan, you shouldn’t smoke so much.” Y/N said, placing a warm cup of tea onto his desk.

John’s eyes flickered to meet Y/N’s. “Why do you call me that?” He asked suddenly, putting out the cigar in the ashtray. “You’re the only person I know that calls me by my full name.”

Y/N smiled warmly and shrugged. “I’ve just grown accustomed to it.”

Then there was a brief silence. They stared at each other, almost longingly. John breaks away first with a deep breath. He straightens himself in his seat and grabs the cup. “Thank you, Y/N. For the tea.”

Y/N nodded. “Do you need any help?”

John paused, looking over at the paperwork. He knew he could finish it within an hour, but he wanted Y/N to stay.

It seemed with every passing second they grew closer. Accidental touches turned into purposeful ones. A tension growing with each glance stolen, begging to be snapped. Those late night meetings, turning into late night talks, turning into something more intimate.

Y/N’s hand holds the side of John’s neck as they kiss. The other kept him propped up on the desk. John is standing between Y/N’s legs, his hands on the Angel’s thighs. John pulls back only to whisper, “You’re perfect.”

Y/N hopes his Father will forgive him for this. He shook his head. “Not anymore..” He whispered back, but before John could respond, Y/N’s lips found his.

But in the face of judgment, his Father had no mercy. Y/N was dissipated from heaven the minute he got to report back. The Angel finds himself kneeled in his room with an unfathomable pain shooting from his back as his wings are ripped from his body completely. Even if it can’t be seen, it can be felt. He’s biting his own hand to muffle his screams as he writhes in pain. Blood soaks into his shirt and he finds himself clawing desperately to get off.

Y/N shakily pulls himself to his knees, resting his head on the side of his bed. He puts his hands together and whispers a prayer through his pained sob. He failed to notice his barrack door open.

“Y/N?” John asked, terrified by the bloodied sight before him. He rushed to Y/N’s side. “Y/N what happened?”

Y/N doesn’t respond as he continues to beg for forgiveness from a God who is doubtful to listen.

————

Part II

[god-complex-12]

Could you do Fluff of Valkyrie from Rainbow 6 Siege with a civilian reader?

Eunoia

— Paring; Meghan “Valkyrie” Castellano x male reader. Fandom; Rainbow Six Siege

Eunoia: (n.) beautiful thinking; a well mind.

Quote; “I’ve missed you.”

Disclaimer; Meghan coming home, mentions of hardships, she’s a lovey-dover (which I wouldn’t usually write her like that ((I say that as if I write her a lot)).), kissing, mentions of the movie Dune, short story.

Word Count: 0.5k

Masterlist

A/N: I had to re-write this so many times, you have no idea. Wish I had a gif..

Meghan always felt a sense of both relief and melancholy when returning home. She was glad to be away from the violence and with her husband, but now she actually has time to think about all the hardships she just faced. She hoped that Y/N would do what he always did best and distract her from them.

Meghan opened the door to her home, dropping the duffle bag of equipment by the door and looking around for Y/N. Her mud coated boots make hard thuds against the hardwood floor. They would have been heavier if she was in uniform.

At the sound of someone entering, Y/N looks behind him from where he was seated. “Meghan?” He called out, his tone filled with hope. Hope because he wanted to see his wife, and hope because he didn’t know if he could take on a rober.

She smiled and rounded the corner. “How’d you know?” She asked sarcastically. She walked over to him, giving him a kiss. “How have you been?” She leaned on the back of the couch and wrapped her around his neck for a quick hug.

Y/N smiled widely at her, grabbing her and forcing her to lay on the couch with him. “Better now that you’re home.” He kissed her again. “I’ve missed you.” He muttered softly.

“I know,” she said confidently, which easily melted to match his tone. “I’ve missed you too.” Meghan laid on top of him with a dramatic sigh, looking at the TV. “What are you watching?”

“Dune,” he said, hugging her tight.

“Mm..” She hummed. “We’ve watched this movie a lot.”

“Like I said, ‘I missed you’.”

Meghan made a rare giddy smile, taking in her husband’s warmth. “God, some things you do are just adorable.” She laid her head down on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and watching the movie. She started to feel the exhaustion of traveling take over her. Her eyes drooped and within about twenty minutes, she was out

Y/N gently ran his hand through her hair, brushing back the part above her ear. He knew she was asleep when he heard a sudden one-time snore. He kissed the top of her head, happy she was home and even more happy she was alive. Meghan wasn’t a clingy person by any means, but it was always the night when she came back or the night when she would leave when she would not let go.

Y/N watched his movie, listening to her steady breathing and the television, and soon he too fell asleep, hugging Meghan tight.

[god-complex-12]

Personally, I think Cap’n Crunch cereal should be banned. Good cereal, don’t get me wrong, but my mouth has tasted like blood for the past day because of it. The cereal inflicts pain. I know the U.S. is known for being unhealthy, but this is just straight up torture.

[god-complex-12]

eating out valeria under her desk when someone comes in and she has to act like nothings happening plsplspls

I hear you anon but consider: a Valeria who doesn’t care who hears. 

Those who are close enough to know the true identity of El Sin Nombre know she won’t tolerate their bullshit - the last pendejo who made a comment ended up with shattered teeth.

So when you’re underneath her desk, nose deep in her cunt as her fingers tug at your hair you barely flinch when there’s a knock at her door. She barks out a sharp, “What?”, arching into your touch as you move up to suckle at her clit. 

Diego’s voice filters through the door but you can’t make out what he says, not when Valeria’s thighs tighten around your head and she uses her grip to pull you closer. You can just make out the door opening and closing, his footsteps halting on the other side of her desk. 

It must be something important because her fingers tug at your hair again to pull you back and you ease up, switching to broad swipes of your tongue across her slick folds. Diego attempts to ignore you (you’re becoming a common sight between Valeria’s thighs), instead keeping his eyes locked on Valeria as he delivers the information he needed to.

With a nod she dismisses him, fingers carding through your hair and nails scratching your scalp so she can pull you until you’re peering up at her from between her legs. Arousal curls in her belly when your eyes connect, pupils blown wide and face shining with slick and saliva.

“We’ll have to finish this later perrito, go and get yourself ready.” She shuffles back in her chair, standing as you do and fastening her pants. You wipe away the evidence on your face and Valeria grabs you by the collar, pulling you close so she can smash your mouths together, humming as you let her dominate. Finally when you break apart she taps your cheek, “Good boy.”

[god-complex-12]

I’m listening….

[god-complex-12]

Some black Butler stuff!

Regarding my body pillow work, they should arrive and be in shop around after Christmas. So enjoy this drawing until then :)

[god-complex-12]

I’ve been thinking about the pomegranate trend going around lately. I first just saw some of it and kind of understood, but then someone said pomegranates represent cannibalism in English literature and I felt like that wasn’t true.

Pomegranates main symbolism is love and vitality because of his vibrant flesh insides. And then I thought, well that’s how they could be seen as cannibalism. When you eat it the insides, it represents feasting on flesh. And of course Shakespeare representation was innocence and purity.

Back to the poem, the poem I read (which may not be the poem people are referencing) is wrote by @pearl.r.dark on Tik Tok. I really don’t think this is the one, but I know this is at least inspired by it. I have searched for the poem and I can’t find the one people are referencing. But the poem I’m referencing is this one:

“Pomegranate juice seeps

From my mouth

But I do not taste sweetness

It tastes of blood

His fingers slide into my mouth

And I try not to swallow it’s seeds

I think of Eve as I stare at the walls

I see her in the Garden of Eden

An apple on Adam’s hand

I wonder

Did the apple taste sweet?

As it was forced upon her lips

Or of blood?”

This is a beautiful poem, I loved reading it. But back to the whole pomegranate thing. It also means that you need to be patient and caring for a love one, just like a pomegranate.

It’s of someone who longs for a gentle and caring lover who will be patient and soft, but instead getting a rough kind of love.

You can manipulate the symbolism of pomegranates to reference cannibalism, but I wouldn’t say that’s their whole point.

With all this cannibalism talk, I started to wonder why cannibalism is so romanticized? Why make light of something so sickening? But I guess it could mean a longing for something or maybe even lust.

Using cannibalism as a metaphor for love is disgusting. No one should romanticize eating human beings. Don’t daydream of it. However, representation of it in a darker light is a good form of writing. I don’t think you should love the idea of it, I think you should love the art of it. Love how that’s the representation of it, but not the actual thing. Don’t fantasize about eating your lover, but appreciate the writing of it.

Some people say it’s used to show how people can’t figure out gentle love so they have to eat each other to express it and so they’ll always have a piece of them.

I like to think of it differently. I think it shows how one will go to any lengths for what they want. If you truly want to eat someone, then you’ll do it. You know you are hurting someone in the process. And if you are somewhat normal, you’ll drive yourself insane with guilt. Knowing someone had to die so you could eat. So if you put that into a love sense, you will push everyone away for the person you love even if they are hurting you too.

[god-complex-12]

Too many fics about sucking Miguel’s big dick off but not enough fics about Miguel sucking my big dick off…

[god-complex-12]

Saudade

— Paring; Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley x male reader. Fandom; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Saudade: (n.) a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia; longing to be near something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; “the love that remains”.

Quote; “Fuck you, Simon.”

Disclaimer; middle of a war, angst, sad, guns, violence, descriptions of war, childhood friends, childhood trauma, kind of PTSD, blood, fighting, fear, stabbing, no use of Y/N, conflict, arguing.

Word Count: 0.9k.

Masterlist

A/N: I read the very first lines of this @charliemwrites fic and this came to my mind. I haven’t read the rest yet, but inspo from them. Also, please send in requests. I’m desperate for ideas.

The sound of gunfire wasn’t foreign. Not to Simon. However, even with ear coverage, the headache couldn’t be stopped. The adrenaline of the bloodshed kept his mind off the pain. It was moments like these where his mind was empty and only set on surviving and carrying out the mission.

Simon’s back hit the wall as he took a brief breather before he busted into the room, firing at the first man he saw in a Shadow uniform. His gun was aimed at the wrong person at the wrong time because he was quickly met with a hit, sending him to the ground with a groan of pain. He tried to shoot whoever the perpetrator was, but the enemy pried the rifle from his hands and pinned him to the ground, holding their own gun to his head. All Simon could see were the soldier’s eyes, but even those let off more emotion than would be ideal in a situation like this. Simon struggled, but his struggle did him no good against the body weight of the enemy atop him.

The soldier didn’t shoot, though. That’s why Simon was trying to act fast, as he managed to get his hand out from under the enemy, and he grabbed the knife on his leg and lodged it into the man’s thigh. Instinctively, the stranger yelled out and slammed the handgun down against the lieutenant's head. The mask cracked and Simon cringed in pain.

“You fuckin’ piece of shit!” The soldier yelled, and he angrily ripped the mask from the other man’s face. He tore everything off Simon's face, destroying his comm and headset, ripping the balaclava, and using the broken mask to stab him in the shoulder. Simon fought him, tossing his head around to stop him and even grabbing him by the face to make him let go. The soldier pointed the gun back at Simon’s bare forehead. He held Simon’s wrist tightly, stabbing the other piece of his mask into his palm, making Simon let go.

As the enemy’s rage calmed and his breathing steadied, his hand wavered. His eyes widened ever so slightly before sharpening again. “What are you doing here?” His tone was harsh, as if he were talking to a private. Simon took it as a demand in order to win rather than the man’s curiosity.

“You’re a dumb fuck if you think you can get information out of me in the middle of a warzone,” Simon spat out through gritted teeth.

The soldier paused before they lowered their balaclava. Simon’s eyes widened in fear as all the unwanted memories rushed back to him like a tsunami. His breath became labored. Everything he wanted to forget was on top of him, pointing a pistol at his head. He started thrashing more. “Get off of me! Get the hell off of me, you dickhead!” He shouted angrily.

“Stop it,” he says calmly. However, all gentleness was gone when Simon continued to fight. “I said stop!” He punched Simon with his full strength. He grabbed Simon’s face harshly, making him look at him. “You can run. Forget everything bad. But I’ll be damned if you try to forget me, you cowardly bitch. I fought for you. I’m the only reason you lived through your pathetic childhood and you abandoned me. You left me with everything I fought with you through. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you! I could’ve had a happy childhood, but I was too busy fending for your bitch ass.” All that pent-up aggression was being spewed through a tight jaw and angry eyes.

Simon was desperate to get away. He looked like a little boy again, trying to get away from whatever his father brought home. “I had to! You don’t get it!” Another hit from the gun shut Simon up. The lieutenant knew exactly what he had done was wrong, and he knew that the man in front of him had every right to be angry. Even though Simon was the reason his youth was corrupted, they never split. He was like a brother to him. One who helped him through all, yet Simon left him with everything the other protected him from.

The soldier got back to his feet and pulled his mask back up. He turned around and was ready to walk away from his opponent, unable to pull the trigger, even though he was overwhelmed with a burning hatred for Simon. Angry at him for putting him through his fucked-up family even though they weren’t related. He still had the urge to protect him.

“Fuck you, Simon. I hope it all comes back to you at night. I hope it keeps you up.” He grumbled as he limped out of the room, leaving Simon there on the floor.