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[storyofdoom]

@abittangledup​ Answer Me On Discord

[storyofdoom]

abittangledup‌:

first of all, she hated shoes, and she’d made that well known whenever she made her way through the many rooms and corridors of his less than humble abode. to say that she was wary of the ‘ surprise ‘ he had for her was more than an understatement. cautiously she’d crept, arms hugging her chest in nothing more than a t-shirt and sweatpants. no shoes. as she entered the gallery she wasn’t really sure what to expect - it wasn’t this….that was for sure, and her lips parted as the breath left her lungs without her willing it to. this was it. this was her dream becoming realized. all those comics she’d read, all those times she’d wished she could be like the avengers they were slowly becoming true. 

her fingertips press lightly to the glass as she looks it up and down, it’s beautiful.  his voice causes the hairs on her neck to stand up but she doesn’t turn in surprise, she’s too enamored. a few moments pass and she steps back away from it to turn and look where the voice had come from.    “ this is for me….    is there the catch….   “

he’d helped her train. made her stronger. pushed her farther than she’d ever gone before - she was so powerful she didn’t know what to do with it. and their shared end goal…was quickly approaching. he’d done everything for her and yet she had no way to repay him.  

Doom smiles beneath his mask, lightly tapping his index finger against the metal rail of the gallery. Elizabeth seems pleased with her suit, which is not a surprise. He is very skilled in a great number of areas, and power suit construction is just one of many. Her gaze meets his, and she asks her question and his smile widens   --   not that she can see it.   “Our arrangement remains the same as it has since you first came to Latveria, Miss Ellison,”   he says, beginning his descent down the stairs and into the lab below.   “You wanted to become truly formidable, and I have made you so.”

He reaches the bottom step, and crosses to where she stands in front of the case. She is barefoot and tiny compared to him in his armor, and he chuckles inwardly at how dressed down she is for such a momentous occasion. He stops next to her, and clasps his hands together behind his back as he looks to the case.   “I must say that this is perhaps the most elaborate thing I have made for the primary purpose of crushing a cockroach, but I think that you will find it works quite well.”   There is a bite to his jest, and he pauses for a moment before looking down at her once again.   “Do you want to try it on?”

[storyofdoom]

omenofstorms‌:

in life she was beautiful. she had known it, too, and allowed herself to rejoice in it, to embrace it. in death- she is something else entirely. where once she turned heads, now she can turn crowds. she does not know if they turn in longing or in revulsion. and she does not care. 

hers is the face that will launch a thousand missiles, and it will be her finger on the trigger. 

death has formed her into something eerie. she does not yet inhabit the UNCANNY VALLEY, but with each injury that restarts her half-life, she gets a little closer. she has not yet forgotten who she is; she has not yet forgotten what it means to be human. 

yet.

if his armour, his stance phases her, she does not allow him to see. he is strong in his armour, powerful in the suit that is as much a crown as it is clothing. she is strong & powerful in nought but her skin. her crown is her curls & her head is not heavy with its weight. 

he had pulled it last night, bitten and scratched her skin. the ache of it was gone in a heartbeat- so, too, the marks. 

“clearly.” her voice bears none of the hoarseness of newfound wakefulness. she has not had to sleep in a very long time. the sheet falls from her body as she rises- she does not yet reach for the garment he threw at her. “what foolishness i had is long gone, DOOM. is the blood on your bed not enough proof of the covenant i wish to make?” her gaze upon him is cool, unflinching. 

“i am not one to disguise my intentions.”

Doom watches her as she rises, eyes roaming across the curves of her body, taking in the lack of imperfections on her skin. He knows that he had bitten her hard, hard enough that she bled   --   and yet there is no mark. Even more than the damage he had done with his teeth, he remembers the feeling of her blood splattering against his chest and his face as they both plunged the dagger into her chest, and he remembers how he had washed the remnants of her dried blood from his hands before donning his armor to hide his own marks from her.

And yet, her skin is as bare and as perfect as if it had never been touched by anything at all.

Doom looks at the bloodstains on his sheets as she mentions them, and then back to her face. He crosses his arms across his chest, and leans against the doorframe with a feigned air of casual relaxation.   “I do not know whether to be relieved or disappointed that this was not all just a ploy to get into my bed,”   he says in vague amusement, though in truth he knows the answer.   “Well, now that daylight is upon us and we are both...”   He pauses, lingering on her nude form once again before he continues.   “...sated, perhaps you can describe to me what exactly it is that you seek.”   He looks out of his window, observing the way that the sunlight glints against the roofs of Doomstadt below.   “As I told you before, a petty monster that lurks in New York’s alleyways is of little concern to me.”

[storyofdoom]

REVENANT - (n) One who has returned, as if from the dead.

indie fandomless oc // written by kate

[storyofdoom]

When Victor opens the door to his chambers and looks in at his bed, he is almost surprised to see the figure that still lays there. He had half thought their encounter and her very existence itself to be a figment of his imagination, or perhaps a vision sent by Mephisto - and yet there she is, a creature both eerie and beautiful, clothed in nothing but the thin sheet of his bed. He had known her to be real when he awoke after a brief and fitful sleep in his lab, but seeing her in the light solidifies it in a way that is unnerving. He looks at her for a long moment, and it is with a brief pang of curiosity that it dawns on him that she likely never slept at all.

The way she moves is strange, disjointed, and he remembers the way that her flesh felt so strange, so cool and firm. She looks at him with eyes too dark to tell the color of, and he looks back at her with a gaze unyielding. He stands powerful and strong before her in his armor, the first time that she has had a chance to see him in it in person. Perhaps if he were to be a bit more introspective in this moment he would recognize the chagrin he feels at his vulnerability, but he has no time for such matters right now. Just because she has seen his bare face in the shadows does not mean that he will permit her to see it in the light.

“I see that you are still here,”   he says coolly, a sharp contrast to the way that he had growled into the nape of her neck hours before, breath hot against her skin.   “That means that you are either a fool, or you were serious about your intentions   --   perhaps both.”   He lifts the modest but acceptable dress that he holds in his hand, and tosses it carelessly onto the bed.

@omenofstorms

[storyofdoom]

Doom watches as the woman on the level below moves through the room, slow in her approach of the display case in the center. She has no need to be so wary here, but he does not blame her for her caution. Certainly she had not had the best introduction with him, and the whispers of his perceived intents travel far.

But they have a common enemy, and for that alone she should have no fear.

“What do you think?”   He asks, announcing to her his presence on the upper gallery. His voice rings out deep, even filtered through the mechanical sound of his mask.   “It should fit you well, but there is still time to make adjustments if you find it... unsuitable.”

@abittangledup

[storyofdoom]

“It’s actually Transgender Superiority Day in Latveria.”

[storyofdoom]

[storyofdoom]

“Greetings, you foolish peasants. It is International Transgender Day of Visibility, so DOOM will allow you the kindness of looking upon his visage today.”

[storyofdoom]

astrapure‌:

@storyofdoom

     “You know, your books really are interesting.”

There’s minuscule, flat barriers formed all around like book stands hovering in the air, numerous books around her all opened up for her to read. Some on the history of earth, of stars around the realm, of the research behind his people’s history he had been so curious about. 

     “I wasn’t sure if you minded, but…I still can’t find very much besides what you were researching, including the travels I made to the other countries. Maybe I’m looking in the wrong libraries…”

Victor lets out a low hum of recognition, but not much more than that. He looks at the books that she has set up for her perusal around the room, held in midair by disks of her own creation. It’s moments like these where he finds himself reminded that this shape before him is not a woman   --   this is a force.

He never forgot, but it is always good to be reminded.

“Most things in this universe are unconcerned with this country and it’s people   --   and perhaps rightfully so. Regardless, someone must care, and I collect what I can.”   Setting his own book down on his desk   ( rather precariously upon a large stack that he’s already read through )   he clasps his hands behind his back, metal clinking against metal.   “What is it that you seek? I have a much larger collection than you see here.”

[storyofdoom]

maybe it’s Too Much to be so thirsty for your own muse but good god.... doom is just.... unbearably sexy......... fucking wreck me goddamn. if he punched me i would thank him. and also probably die because i don’t think i would take a metal gauntlet to the face very well. #worthittho

[storyofdoom]

Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.

No deleting questions, either!

[storyofdoom]

Legion. The World Killer.

[storyofdoom]

Doctor Doom says: Don’t Be Racist

[storyofdoom]

MAKE ME FEEEEEEL

.38. my muse finds your muse crying and comforts them

It’s in a dark room that he finds Elizabeth, curled into herself in an attempt to make herself invisible. Victor sometimes thinks that perhaps he should have tried to give her that power in particular, but then he thinks that she would be a bit too much like Sue   –   not only would that hurt, but that would be cruel to her to put her in those shoes. They are still waiting to find out what power manifests, and although it is still premature he finds himself growing impatient. He does not carry much compassion within him, especially for people that are not his own   –   but still, he feels a tightening in his chest when he thinks about the suffering that she has endured.

He should have kept him locked up. It would have been better for everyone if he had done that, if he shackled him and kept him in the darkest pit that Victor had at his disposal   –   but in a single lapse of judgement he had foolishly assumed the monster dead and had left him to rot in a shallow grave.

Never again. Not after the unique cruelty that Victor has seen firsthand.

He can run, but he cannot hide any longer. His stench is too strong.

Pausing in the doorway, he considers if it would be wiser to leave her be. She’s been hurt so very badly, and the way that her body shudders with sobs causes his heart to pound harder. He had never wanted attention during his post-traumatic episodes, but he knows that he’s a much harder person than the girl before him   –   would she appreciate his comfort, or reject it? Stepping into the room, he closes the door quietly behind him. She looks up as the door clicks shut, alarm written on her face before he turns on a nearby lamp and reveals himself as her host. She visibly relaxes a bit, but not too much. She is still wary of him, after all   -   and who can blame her? After what she has endured, it’s a wonder that she even accepted his help at all.

“Do you know the Litany of Fear?”   he asks, his voice lacking the tender softness that comforting usually requires. She will simply have to make due with his brand of kindness.   “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.”   Approaching the chair that is closest to her (but is still at a comfortable distance) he takes a seat.   “Perhaps it is a bit silly, but when I find myself having an attack I recite it to myself.”   It must be a rather pathetic thing in her eyes   --   but that is of no matter, because Doom has long abandoned shame.

[storyofdoom]

@abittangledup just you wait until you see what i got........

[storyofdoom]

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