#Until It Is Done (Doom Slayer)

[flynnsdoomangel]

He keeps me sane and centered. When the world feels like literal hell, I know he’s got me.

Flynn is my safe haven, my peace and comfort, the love of my life and the one I will never stop loving💗💍

I’ll never stop choosing you, Flynn, we will get through anything together❤️‍🩹🫂We are unstoppable, our love is pure, raw delicate and strong❤️‍🔥🫂

[kin-and-kaboodle]

Dear anybody kin with Isabelle from Animal Crossing,

The Slayer says hello.

[expvrgction]

A Flooded Mess (CLOSED RP)

Closed starter for @bl4ck-t34m​​!

---

A portal ripped through the fabric of space with swirling edges of blue energy. Out of it, a single, armored man emerged-- Armor unlike any seen in the universe he had just paid a visit to. Wherever demons lurked, he would find and crush them in any way possible.

But today was different. He could not sense any activity from Hell thus far. Perhaps, the demons had not yet planned to mark their territory. Nevertheless, he had recently modified his armor to cover his arms-- Potential parasitic infection and whatnot, though Primevals cannot permanently die unless they are felled by their own kind.

Something was up, though, and his artificial intelligence companion would be one to inform him.

“I cannot identify the exact coordinates nor specifications for this world in particular.” That was VEGA speaking on the communication line for his helmet’s interior. “But I can tell that this is an inhabitable planet.”

“There, however, is a surge in hostile life forms, yet signature reading did not return with any activity from Hell. You need to be careful out here, Slayer.”

The Slayer needed not be told twice. He would scout this place and see if there would be anything he could deal with.

[rlpandtear]

Tags

[demonicdiligence]

Also I'm most of the way through Doom eternal rn

I joked with a friend on call "oh the Doom Slayer would DESTROY Aamon" but now...

I think they'd be friends.

Armblade buddies c:

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Does absence make the heart grow fonder or more frustrated? You and Bradley aren't quite sure where you stand with each other, and you're both apprehensive about how it will feel to open up communication again. And while it's hard for you to stop blaming yourself, Bradley is becoming aware of all the ways he hasn't done enough.

Warnings: Angst, swearing

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley picked at his dinner for the third night in a row. He sat between Nat and Bob, and both of them clearly knew something was wrong. But Bradley hadn't been able to talk about it. What was he supposed to say, anyway? Admit that he had been acting like sex with his wife was a chore? Tell them that he had made you cry the night you got promoted? Disclose that you had slept on the bathroom floor to get away from him? Announce he was that asshole who got his sperm tested without telling you?

As if that wasn't enough, Bradley could still hear the hurt in your voice when you yelled at him about the test results in the kitchen at home. The memory of it caused him a physical pain in his chest. It was an ache that he knew would be there until you spoke to him again. If you spoke to him again. 

"Pass the salt?" Bob asked softly, and Bradley did it automatically and without any emotion. It wasn't Bob's fault that things went down so badly at home. And it wasn't Nat's fault either. But he could barely look at them or talk to them, and he knew he was going to need to start. Because whatever this mission brought, all of them would be doomed with Bradley in this kind of headspace. 

He cleared his throat and said, "This meatloaf is pretty good."

"It's okay," Nat replied. "Nothing's as good as what your wife makes. Think you can talk her into another dinner party when we get home?"

He could only grunt in response before he had to cover his eyes with one hand. 

"Hey," Nat whispered, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "You're kind of scaring us, Soul Sister. Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Not in the middle of the mess hall, but thanks, Nat."

"Maybe later? We can sit in the lounge and eat all the candy I brought."

Bradley had to close his eyes against the pain he felt over being an inadequate husband. But he loved his best friend, and he knew he'd probably feel better if he confided in her. "I'll think about it."

Just when he started poking at his dinner again, three young aviators sat down on the other side the table, the biggest one directly across from Bradley. "Hey, old timers," he said in an annoying accent that immediately reminded him of Jake. So these must be the young recruits out of Lemoore. The hotshots that all the admirals were talking about. Bradley just wanted to poke at his food and think about his wife. He didn't really feel like babysitting right now. 

"Hi," Bob responded cheerily, and the three of them laughed. Bradley wanted to tell Bob not to engage with them, but it was too late. The big one, who introduced himself as Slayer, was subtly making fun of Bob's glasses, and Bradley's nerves were already too frayed. 

"Hey, Nat, how about we hang out in the lounge now," he said as he stood with his mostly uneaten tray of dinner. Bradley was exhausted, all he wanted was to be able to fix things with you, and training was starting early tomorrow morning. And he needed to get away from these morons as soon as possible. 

Nat and Bob stood, and followed him to get rid of their trash and trays. "I didn't think you'd actually take me up on my offer so soon. Usually you need a full week to stew in your feelings before you say anything."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I didn't like the way Slayer was talking to Bob. You know he was making fun of you right? He literally said he'd never fly with a WSO in glasses," he said. 

"Oh. Yeah. I know," Bob replied in an even tone. "Doesn't much matter. I don't have to fly with him. I get to fly with Phoenix. And I always pass my eye exams."

Bradley was in a constant state of inner panic right now. He didn't understand how his two friends could be as calm as they were. Nat was listing off all the candy she had brought with her while Bob nodded placidly and told her that Starbursts were his guilty pleasure. Meanwhile Bradley couldn't decide if he wanted to cry or jump into the ocean. When he thought about you back at home in the craftsman with Tramp, it was hard for him to breathe. You were forgiving, patient and caring, but he wasn't so sure he deserved any of those things from you right now. 

The three of them stopped by Nat's bunk to get some of the candy, but after Bob snagged a few Starbursts, he turned away from the lounge.

"You're not coming?" Nat asked. 

"Nah," Bob replied as he unwrapped a candy. "I'll turn in early. Good night."

Bradley just shook his head. Even though he'd be up all night, typing up email drafts to you on his phone without any wi-fi, at least Bob didn't snore. So he could be miserable in his bed with some peace and quiet. 

"Come on," Nat told him, wrapping her smaller hand around the crook of his elbow and guiding him down the dim, gray corridor toward the lounge. "You'll feel better after we talk."

"I don't know," he replied, swallowing past the pain he felt. When he got into the lounge, he flopped down on his back on the narrow couch, leaving a tiny bit of room for Nat to sit next to his head. "I fucked up."

"I'm assuming by just how fucking miserable you look that something happened with your wife?" She opened a package of Twizzlers and handed him a few strands. 

"We were trying to have a baby," he said softly as he spun the silicone ring around on his finger. It felt weird. It looked weird. He didn't really like it. He missed his gold band that he left at home with you. But this one would be safer; that's why he ordered it with all of his deployment supplies from Amazon. And if anything happened to him, you'd at least have his wedding ring. 

"Yeah," Nat replied, shoving some gummy worms into her mouth. "I know. You already told me that. You're glued to your wife most of the time anyway. If you have a baby, you'll be insufferable." 

"I don't know if she'll let me touch her again let alone have sex."

She paused with more worms in her hand and looked down at him. "Bradshaw, what the hell did you do?"

He rubbed his hand over his face and took a deep breath. "I think I put too much pressure on her. On both of us. We've been trying for five cycles, and I know when her period is due and when she's ovulating...and I realize how bad that sounds when I say it out loud. Because yeah...I kept talking about it nonstop at home. I ruined her fucking promotion night, Nat."

"Oh," she whispered. "You made her feel like she only serves one purpose for you."

"Fuck," he moaned, covering his eyes with his bicep, his Baby Girl paper airplane tattoo pressed to his face. Nat was completely right. In one short sentence, she put all of his wild, rambling thoughts into perspective for him. That was exactly what he had been doing. And when he thought he was being helpful, all he was really doing was reminding you of what wasn't happening. "Nat, I had my sperm tested, and I didn't tell her. She found the paperwork with the results."

She gasped, and he immediately felt a million times worse. He had disappointed his wife, and now his best friend was disgusted with him on your behalf. "Why?" she demanded, tossing the candy bags aside and tugging on him until he was sitting up. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"Fuck, Nat. I thought it would be helpful information to have, you know? If there was something wrong with me, then we could talk to a doctor right away."

"There's nothing wrong with you, is there?" she asked in a monotone voice.

"No," he replied softly, looking at the floor. "And then I didn't want to tell her about it. But she saw the paper, and she blamed herself for everything. Which I somehow knew was exactly what was going to happen. And I should have just fucking told her I was thinking about getting the testing done!"

When he turned to look at his best friend, her eyes looked sad, and her lips were set in a frown. "Oh, Rooster. You're such an idiot."

"I know that!" he snapped back. "I don't need you to say it!"

"Yes, you do," she replied calmly. "You need me to say it. You should have come to me with this weeks ago. Next time you have a dumbass thought, like how you're going to jerk off into a cup and not tell your wife about it, you come talk to me. We'll sort it out."

"I don't know how to fix this. We could barely even look at each other when I left." He closed his eyes and added, "And now I'm here, and she's there."

"What's more important to you? Having a child or loving your wife?"

Whether or not Nat really needed to hear what his answer to that question was, the words made him so physically sick, he had to stand up and walk around the room. "If she's not happy, then nothing else matters," he managed around the tightness in his throat. "It's not worth it. Nothing else is worth it if she's not happy with me."

"Then I think you need to start with that and work from there," Nat told him, standing and wrapping him in a hug.

------------------------------

You skipped work on Monday. You didn't call in. You didn't tell anyone. You just didn't go. You just stayed in bed most of the day with Bradley's wedding ring and a sinking feeling in your heart. Your parents called you on Monday night, probably to see how you were doing without Bradley at home, but you couldn't answer their call. And you weren't honestly sure if things were better or worse without him here. All you knew was you didn't want to go back to work, because you couldn't stop crying. 

But on Tuesday morning, you felt more angry than sad, and that seemed to be the motivation you needed to take a shower. You vigorously scrubbed at your Rooster tattoo until the skin felt fresh and raw. Then you dressed in your uniform and headed out. You hadn't eaten anything since before Bradley left, but it didn't matter. 

You couldn't even decide if you wanted to talk to him or not. He could call you tomorrow, or it could be weeks before you heard from him. But you kept your phone on you just like you always did when he was away. The sickening feeling of what if washed over you. What if something happened, and they needed to reach you. What if Bradley was injured again. What if you never got a chance to talk to him again.

As you made your way to your lab, you already had tears in your eyes. By shutting each other out, you and your husband had only made things worse. You had to stop thinking about him. He probably wasn't even thinking about you at all. His goodbye speech was echoing in your mind, and you could just picture his ring on your nightstand. 

"Fuck," you croaked as you sat down in your usual seat. You thought you were alone, but then you heard Cat's voice behind you.

"Something wrong?"

"No," you muttered, wiping at your eyes. "I'm fine." You didn't even bother to turn and face her, but a second later, she was pulling her chair closer to you than she normally sat. Great. "I told you I was fine."

"Yeah," she replied casually. "And I heard you. But you're terrible at lying. You're too nice to be able to pull it off. Where were you yesterday?"

You stared straight ahead and took a few deep breaths. You weren't feeling particularly nice these days, and you weren't too fond of the way Cat had been treating Jake. Your heart rate was up. The desire to hurt someone, to make them feel miserable like you did, was pulsing through your body. 

"You know what, Cat?" you asked, turning in your seat to face her. You got to watch her neutral expression melt away as you said, "Maybe we should cut the shit."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, very subtly moving away from you. That should have been you cue to cool yourself down, but you just couldn't. 

"I'm talking about the way you're treating Jake like he's trash. Did you make out with him in secret again yesterday? Turn him down for another date?"

"I can't go out with him," she snapped back. "I can't have him around Jeremiah. He's exactly like what I left behind in Maryland."

"You like him!" you nearly shouted. 

"Of course I do," she replied, dark eyes flashing. "But not seriously. He'd be a terrible fit for me now. He's a womanizer. I know he's your friend, but why can't you see that?"

"He wants to change! And he'd probably just adore Jeremiah!" you insisted with narrowed eyes. "For some unknown reason, he really likes you, even though you and your Uncle Hondo are putting him through the fucking ringer!"

Your fists were clenched, and it felt so good to be upset about something other than your relationship with Bradley. But you watched Cat's expression turn to panic. 

"You know about Hondo?" she asked softly. 

You laughed darkly. "Are you referring to the fact that he's your uncle? Or that he's been giving Jake extra push ups and laps around the hangars as extra punishments for weeks now?"

Her lips parted, and she looked like she was going to be sick. "He saw us. He must have."

"Yeah, no shit. I saw you, too, remember? You're not doing a very good job of hiding the fact that you think Jake is good enough for you to lead him on physically but not good enough to have dinner with him."

"Uncle Bernie is trying to scare Jake away. Because Jake is exactly like Chris, and he doesn't want me to get hurt again. I didn't know-" she started, but you cut her off. 

"Well now you do. And if you truly don't give a flying fuck about Jake, then let him rot out there on the tarmac, doing a million extra push ups every day instead of eating lunch. But if you care about him even a little bit, please stop leading him on. Just tell him you're not going to date him once and for all, and tell Hondo to knock it off!"

Cat turned toward her computer and went silent for the rest of the morning. Which was fine with you. There was a lot to catch up on since you skipped work yesterday. There was no point in going to lunch since Bradley was gone. And if you did go, you'd just end up arguing with Jake. So instead you pretended to do some work while you thought about how many things needed to change between you and Bradley until you made yourself nauseous. 

------------------------------------------

"Before we get started today, I'd like to just take a moment to point out that our fresh recruits from Lemoore have been doing an excellent job both in the air and in the classroom," Admiral Dean announced to the room full of aviators. Bradley rolled his eyes as Slayer and his buddies sat up a little straighter. "You're really earning the spotlight," he told them before continuing with some of the mission details. 

Admiral Dean had been showing favoritism to the group from Lemoore all week, and Bradley cringed knowing he had seven more weeks of this to go. He didn't want to be here. His mind kept wandering back to San Diego. Back to you. 

After a week away, he didn't even know where you and he stood. He felt numb. Desensitized. Almost like nothing could hurt him or fix him except you. Were you sleeping and eating well? Were you worried about him? Was there any way you could forgive him for the way he'd behaved and the things he'd said? Did you even want to?

It was a good thing he already had these mission parameters memorized; two teams would be working in tandem to eliminate a communications tower and a newly constructed military base. He knew it by heart, and now all he could think about was what he wanted to tell you if you accepted a call from him. He'd been talking to Nat all week, and it was clear to Bradley now that you should be his top priority. Not a baby, not having sex to try to get pregnant. Just you. 

But there was so much he wanted to say to you, and he was afraid he was going to stumble over his words and just make things worse. It could be another week or two before he was allowed access to an iPad anyway. He'd put his name in to try to get chosen for an early FaceTime slot, but there were no guarantees. 

"Bradshaw, Trace, Floyd," barked Admiral Dean. "Get out to your aircrafts to run some practice formations. And try to keep up with the rest."

"Yes, sir," Bradley managed to say with a perfect salute when really all we wanted to do was flip this guy the bird and then hijack an iPad for the rest of the day. 

"You look so distracted," Nat whispered as they exited the classroom. 

"I just need to talk to her," he replied softly. "If I can just have a real conversation with her and tell her how I feel, I think I'll be able to focus."

She nodded. "I know. I already told you that if I get selected first, you can trade time slots with me."

He just nodded, because the tightness in his throat made him more than a little nervous for how he was about to perform in the air for Admiral Dean and the other officers. Once they were all out on deck, the sun was way too hot, and Bradley could feel the sweat trickling down his back. He handed his helmet to Nat for a second so he could remove his silicone ring and wipe the sweat from his hand. 

"Whoa, wait. Are you two old timers married to each other?" asked Slayer's large and annoying buddy. From the font emblazoned across his helmet, his call sign was Charmer. Oh, the irony.

"No, dumbass," Nat replied coolly. "Flying together would be disallowed according to the misconduct handbook."

Charmer looked confused by her words, and Bradley wanted to laugh. But now Slayer was referring to Bob as "four eyes" which made him want to punch something.

"How can I guarantee that you can see correctly in the air?" Slayer asked him. "I shouldn't even have to fly with you at all."

"Oh," Bob said with a good natured chuckle. "My corrective lenses make it possible for me to see just perfectly. I passed my eye exams last month."

But Slayer just snickered. "The only thing worse than flying with a guy who can't see is flying with a woman." 

Bradley was about to take his helmet back from Nat when he felt his hands curl into fists. Suddenly it seemed like he had nothing to lose by leveling these assholes. 

"You need to learn some fucking manners and put some respect on her name," Bradley growled closing in on Slayer.

But the other man didn't back down at all. "I'm sure Phoenix here can't fly for shit, but at least she's alright to look at. I'll bet your wife is a dog, old man."

That was it. Bradley was actually going to be dishonorably discharged from the navy for fistfighting another officer. But just as Bob managed to kind of wedge his arms between their bodies, Admiral Dean started calling for everyone to get in their aircrafts. 

"Woof woof," Slayer called with a laugh as he strutted away. He sounded like a fucking child. He essentially was a fucking child. But Bradley still had to fight the desire to pound his face in.

"You need to relax," Nat hissed. "Dean already has it out for us, and you'll just make it worse."

"I know," Bradley growled, putting his helmet on. "But he insulted both of you."

"Bob and I are used to it, Rooster. You need to tuck your feelings way down deep inside until later tonight. I'll get out more candy and can you lay on the couch in the lounge and mope. But now is not the time!"

His friend was absolutely right. He needed to chill. So Bradley tried to clear his mind of all extraneous material, keeping only the mission details and his perfect wife at the forefront.

----------------------------

On Saturday evening, you managed to call your parents back. They sounded concerned when you lied and told them that you had a migraine and you were going to try to catch up on sleep for the rest of the weekend. You tried to engage in conversation for a few minutes more, but as soon as your mom mentioned future grandkids, you had to end the call. 

The throbbing pain in your heart just wouldn't go away. You missed Bradley. It hurt to breathe as you curled up in bed wearing your husband's UVA shirt with Tramp next to you. 

Jake kept texting you constantly, trying to see where you were. He tried calling a few times today, but you were ignoring him pretty successfully. Maybe you could just take some melatonin and pass out until tomorrow afternoon. 

As you climbed out of bed to dig around in your nightstand, a thought occurred to you. Had Bradley left you anything this time? You'd been too consumed by your wayward thoughts to even register that maybe there was something in here for you. When you opened the drawer, you sank all the way down onto your knees on the floor. 

There was a pretty, professionally bound album with one of your wedding photos on the cover. You and Bradley on the beach. He was looking at you like he couldn't believe you were real, and his fingers were resting gently on the side of your neck. 

You had to squeeze your eyes closed against the tears, because you could remember that moment perfectly. You could almost feel the weight of his hands on your body and hear his voice. When you reached into the drawer to remove the album, a tiny paper airplane that was tucked in the corner fell out of it.

Thanks for the memories, Baby Girl.

You couldn't stop crying. There were photos from when you were dating and the day he bought the craftsman. There were photos of Tramp and some from the Hard Deck. There was one of you at the beach just before a crashing wave soaked you through your clothing. There were some with your parents and some at Goose and Carole's gravesite. And he had chosen the most beautiful wedding and honeymoon photos as well. Everything was in order, and they were all perfect. And each one had a handwritten sentence or two underneath.

I can't believe how beautiful you are.

How did I get this lucky?

Let's stay together forever. That's all I want.

You are my perfect wife.

You were laying flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling with tears leaking from your eyes when you heard your doorbell ring. "Fuck," you gasped as you sobbed. Tramp launched himself off the bed and ran through the living room barking up a storm. 

They would go away. Whoever it was would just leave when nobody opened the door. But then the pounding started. "Angel! It's me! I see your car in the driveway."

You didn't want to talk to Jake right now. You didn't want to talk to anyone right now. You just wanted to look at the album of photos from your husband and wonder what he meant by Thanks for the memories, Baby Girl.

"I brought my spare key from Rooster, and I'm about to use it," he called through the door. Even Tramp's barks had turned to a pathetic whimper by this point, so you just got yourself up off the floor. 

You almost made it to the door by the time Jake was opening it. And then he took one look at you, softly closed it behind him, and wrapped his arms around you. 

"Oh, Angel," he crooned as you sobbed and shook against him. "What the hell happened?"

"Everything," you cried, burying your face in his shirt. "I don't know."

Carefully and very slowly, he guided you toward the couch as he told you that it would all be okay. But you didn't believe him. And when he suggested you sit down while he got you something to drink, you shook your head.

"Okay," he whispered, keeping his arms tight around you, holding you in the middle of the living room. You had no idea how long it took until you were able to stand on your own again, but when you finally pulled your face away from his shoulder and met his eyes, he looked very concerned. 

You just sniffed and wiped at your tears as he kissed your forehead. "You ready to tell me what's wrong?" he asked, and you just shrugged in response. You knew that as soon as you started talking, you'd be sobbing again. "You ready for some tea and a snack?"

This time you nodded and plopped down onto the couch with Tramp at your feet. You could hear Jake opening and closing the kitchen cupboards, looking for mugs and tea bags. But it felt nice to have someone in your house with you, so you curled up against the throw pillow and took some deep breaths. When he set down some cheese and crackers next to a mug of hot tea, you realized you hadn't eaten all day. Your stomach growled with hunger, and then you thought you might be sick. 

He sat next to you and blew on his own mug of tea. "Figured you hadn't eaten dinner," he mused, petting Tramp on the head. 

"I haven't eaten all day," you whispered, reaching for your own mug. 

Jake gave you an appraising look. "I think it's time to tell me what's wrong."

You tried to sip your tea, but it was too hot. "You already know I can't seem to get pregnant," you said with an awkward shrug. "It's the only thing Bradley wants, and I can't get it right."

"Angel. That's not the only thing he wants," Jake insisted, but your eyes were blurry with tears again. 

"Just because he'd never admit to it doesn't mean it's not true," you whispered.

"He'd never admit to it, because it's not true. Jesus, do you hear yourself? Trying to talk in circles to reach an incorrect conclusion?" he asked, shaking his head. "Bradley would walk through fire for you. He would tame a lion, or defy the laws of physics or some shit."

You snorted in spite of yourself. But then you admitted to Jake that Bradley had gotten his sperm tested behind your back. And you told him the things he had said recently that made you cry yourself to sleep.

"He's just stupid," Jake insisted. "Doesn't mean he loves you less because you're not pregnant. Yet. Just give it a few more months. And it sounds like you both want the exact same thing, and you both want to find a way to blame yourself so the other one can be let off the hook."

"Huh." You hadn't really thought about it that way. The self blame crept in every day for you. But maybe that was part of the reason why Bradley gave a sperm sample. Blaming yourself was easier than blaming the person you loved. 

Then Jake asked, "Did you skip lunch all week? I saved you a seat every day. I saw Maria, and I asked if you'd been eating with her." 

You looked at him and knew you couldn't lie. "I haven't really had an appetite since Bradley left."

"Have you been avoiding the dining hall because of me?" 

Maybe you had been a little bit. You didn't want to go down there knowing you wouldn't see Bradley, not with the way you left things. But you felt like things with Jake were a little off kilter too. "I don't know. Maybe."

He sat in silence for a minute before reaching for the plate of cheese and crackers and holding it out to you. With a sigh you took some of the food and started to nibble on it. 

"What's going on with you and Cat?"

"Nothing."

You rolled your eyes and bit into the cracker. "I've heard that before."

He lounged back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. "I really like her. There's something about the way she looks and her smile and her voice. I don't know. But she told me a few days ago to just stop asking her out. So I did. And I've barely seen her since."

You felt like maybe this was your fault. You also felt like maybe this is what Jake actually needed. "Is Hondo still riding you?"

"Nah," Jake sighed before he drank more of his tea. "He backed off. Kind of miss it though. Make me feel like I was getting somewhere, you know?" he asked with a tiny smirk. "It's hard to get under that man's skin. But I guess making out with his niece will do the trick."

You laughed, and then you realized you had eaten most of the cheese and crackers. And then you finished your tea while Jake took Tramp out for a little walk for you. 

Once he was gone, you texted Maria and Cam about potentially going to brunch tomorrow morning. Then you sat in bed and took your time with the photo book from Bradley. Every page made you smile or feel like crying because you missed him. 

When you tried to put his wedding band on your thumb, it was still too big. So you unclasped the chain holding the charms he gave you, and you added it there. Then you took your melatonin and went to sleep.

----------------------------

Bradley was in line for dinner on Monday after a day of being roasted by Admiral Dean when he heard his name. "Bradshaw." He turned to see a man heading his way. "There's a free slot with an iPad if you want it."

"Now?" he asked, tossing his tray down and stepping out of line. 

"Yes. Your name was at the top of the list."

"Okay," he said, heart racing as he headed for the room onboard the aircraft carrier where he could finally talk to you. He was nervous. There were a million things he wanted to say, and he wished he had written them down. But it didn't matter. He was going to get to see your face. He could finally tell you the truth about how he had been feeling and how he was going to make things up to you. And he'd beg you to be honest with him, too. 

"Thanks," he muttered as he took the offered iPad and found an empty seat. He could hear other officers talking and laughing with their loved ones, and he smiled as he entered your phone number. The first thing out of his mouth was going to be how much he loved you. The second thing was going to be that the two of you would figure everything out when you were together again.

But Bradley counted each time your phone rang unanswered. Three... Four... Five.

You always answered when he called. Every single time. You answered when you were at work. You answered in the middle of the night. You answered when you were taking Tramp for a walk. 

Six... Seven.

And then the line went dead. You had ignored his call. 

-------------------------------

He bought that ring weeks ago. And I don't even know when he managed to sneak the gift into the drawer. And I don't know how they can fix this. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

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@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[secretsofthewilde]

Well. I did say that only one person needed to ask and I'll share. So here you go @raisedbythetv89 @richtea-biscuit

The actual academic essay I wrote and submitted is available to read here (x) for now at least, but as it was written for an assignment with a set word count and parameters, I ended up having to take out the section I had originally written about Cordelia and also there are a lot of references to the set textbook readings I was given. So it might not be the lightest of reading.

Essentially the essay poses the argument that for all the supposedly progressive feminist intentions of the show, we regularly see gender and sexual stereotypes still being reinforced within the show especially through the way that the women are treated for their relationship with sex. That is to to say that while the ‘Scooby gang’ typically seems to contest gender norms, with the male characters often appearing as submissive to Buffy and the female characters themselves each threatening gender norms in their own way, the intimate relations between the characters often undermine these initial contestations. In my essay I explore this through comparing Faith and Buffy's relationship with sex during the early seasons of the show.

Below is my section on Cordelia which unfortunately didn't make it into the essay, followed by a summary of my essay points on Faith and Buffy. I'm mainly sticking to seasons 1-3 for this essay because while I do mention season 4 at one point briefly, the introduction of Riley and Tara mark a change in the nature of sex and what it means in the show.

Part 2 (which is a look at Willow) has also now been written and can be found here (x)

Cordelia Chase

Cordelia starts out as a mild social antagonistic force to our Scooby gang, she is a bully. As the show progresses though she slowly starts to build connections with them, however she isn't allowed into their group until she is depicted as having romantic feelings for Xander, rather than just sexual. When it comes to Cordelia and Xander's relationship she is the dominant one. She has more social power than him and the Scoobys, as well as being more financially and academically stable than him. She also is the only one with a car, meaning she is the one who drives them to their dates. And while this at first seems to be challenging gender stereotypes of powerful men providing for an attractive but weaker woman, the problem is that she isn't allowed or accepted into the Scooby gang until after she sacrifices her social privilege to commit to a public relationship to him. Prior to this sacrifice any relationship or attempt at casual sex we saw Cordelia make was framed as shallow behaviour from her to be scorned or done for comedic effect. We see both her and Buffy seek intimate relationships in these early season, but only Buffy's attempts are framed as sympathetic. It was only when she expressed an emotional connection to Xander that she was presented as a sympathetic character to the audience.

Buffy Summers

Buffy and Angel are the first intimate relationship we see explored in the show and so it's the one that sets the audiences' initial expectations for intimacy. While Buffy is dominant within her social groups and her general use of violence to defeat enemies is something that we would say challenges gender norms, she rarely maintains these traits (or at least they are made much weaker) in scenes that explore her relationship with Angel. Once she's romantically interested in him she routinely takes a submissive role in their relationship; she goes to him for help and advice, places his well being over her role as a slayer, and waits for him to be the one to define and initiate their relationship.

 Unlike Cordelia’s early relationship with Xander, the audience is meant to be invested and sympathetic towards Buffy and Angel. From the get go we have it established that the two love each other, but despite their doomed fate we are meant to want to see them together and therefore we are sympathetic to Buffy's attempts at intimacy with him. When they do have sex and Angel loses his soul, these painful consequences is sometimes seen to be done as a punishment for Buffy having sex, but I think it's more to do with the tragic nature of their gothic romance rather than that - because Buffy and Angel did have the emotional and psychological connection that the show requires in order for their intimacy to be viewed as 'good'. In contrast though, once they break up we see Buffy try to have sex casually with other non-supernatural students but this only results in her getting hurt. When she and Parker have sex he dumps her the following day after using her; which is her punishment for attempting to have sex with something who she didn't really love like Angel. Buffy's also interesting in that her attempt to have a not only loving but sexual relationship also sets her apart from the other slayers - Kendra doesn't have sex, Faith doesn't do emotional intimacy, but Buffy tries to have both.

Faith Lehane

Faith gets to be the sexually free and explorative girl that Buffy is unable to. While she does struggle to do so, within the first three season Buffy does successfully create and sustain a heteronormative relationship that is both sexually and emotionally intimate. While Buffy might flirt with other guys that aren't Angel, she's still easily the "good girl" who cares more about the emotional connection with a guy than sex; in comparison Faith is someone who presents very confident in her sexuality and actively seeks casual sex without any emotional connections. If Buffy is seen to be masculine because of her traits as a slayer than Faith can be seen as hyper-masculine. So she challengers gender stereotypes in that her seeking casual sex and her dominant flirtatious behavior are traits typically reserved for a stereotypical "bad boy" type of character.

When Faith is first introduced to the show as an ally to our Scooby gang, her sexual confidence and behaviours are initially something that Buffy herself wants to replicate. The only time that we actually see her engage in sex on screen however is when she initiates sex with Xander, which coincidently also marks the last episode where she is considered to be someone trust worthy. Faith is the one to initiate sex with Xander, and she remains in a dominant position of control of the scene that we observe. The moment seems to subvert the trope of the confident male "deflowering" the inexperienced and submissive women (who in this scene would be Xander). However the scene is immediately cut with Faith kicking Xander out of her apartment after he tries to initiate an emotional connection with her, and this is framed for comedic effect. By framing their whole sexual encounter as comedic, it's undermining how Faith's sexual confidence seemed to challenge gender roles and instead framing deviations from expected heteronormative behaviours as something to laugh at.

It's also important that the very next episode (Bad Girls) is the one where we clearly see the descent of her mental stability as her reckless behaviour (both sexual and violent) in one-night results in her accidentally killing someone. What was initially seen as traits of a sexually confident woman, and therefore challenging gender roles, then becomes depicted for the rest of the season as signs of her mental instability and her eventual role as an antagonist. This is her punishment for engaging in casual sex; for not having the emotional or psychological connection that is needed for sexual actions to be accepted or approved of by the narrative.

Conclusion

Within the first three seasons of Buffy we see that the female characters are able to challenge gender roles in many ways, however this isn't extended to sex. They can enjoy and seek sex out at times, however they will suffer as a consequence if they don't fulfil certain heteronormative conventions during those times.

Buffy and Faith are allowed to be powerful slayers who are in charge, but in order for their power (and how they challenge dominant ideologies) to remain acceptable it needs to be limited to their battles in the streets rather than in the sheets.

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Finding Peace Pt.7: Hope (Spike x y/n)

Requested: No. Part 7 of the Multi Fic.

Summary: Spike knew that a better life was possible, but only through sacrifice.

TW: none

Word count: 2.3k

Previous | Next

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He felt horrible. Destroyed. Lesser than what he wanted to be. He continued to hurt himself by making bad choices. Choices that he knew were detrimental to him. Never good enough for others, he was doomed to not be good enough for himself.

Spike walked the cemetery looking for trouble. A vampire or demon to entertain him, that’s all he needed. Soon he would find no one to entertain his self-destruction.

"Bloody slayer, doin' her job.” He moped at the loss of companionship.

He desperately wanted to visit y/n but he knew he had no business there. She wanted to rest and he wanted to not be reminded of his worthlessness. If only he was enough or more, he could prove to her that he deserved to be by her side. To be hers. However, he still craves violence and destruction. He reminds himself that if the chip wasn't in place that he would choose to kill for fun. And she knew that, which made him lesser than what she deserved.

He hoped Buffy was hurt or low so that she could take her frustration out on him. Make him feel the pain. The only thing that he deserved.

He continues to wander and ends up in town looking for something to do. What can a chipped vampire do in a hellmouth? He hates it when he finds himself walking down y/n's street. He was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. He gave in and gave up. If Buffy brought him pain, y/n brought him peace. Even when he didn't deserve it, he craved it.

As he walks up to y/n's house his attention is caught by the overwhelming stench of werewolf. Again, she was seeing that damned werewolf. What did she see in him? Why did she choose him, when Spike was right there, ready, and willing? He can hear the rustle of bedsheets from the open window. Lustful sighs and laughter. All things that he will never have.

He waited outside on the porch. Heated. Angry. Hurt. He was going to catch this werewolf and... what? Hurt him? Threaten him? In every scenario y/n would scold him. But he didn't give a damn. He was blinded by passion and revenge.

Hours passed but he waited patiently until the front door opened. It was Matteo. Spike's blood boiled but he stood, frozen, speechless. He simply gave Matteo a head nod as Matteo walked away from the house. Spike caught the door before it closed. He refused to knock to let y/n know he was there. He wanted to catch her red handed, satiated and vulnerable. All the feelings that he wanted to make her feel.

He walked into your bedroom and sat on the bed. The scene of the crime. You were showering so he waited. When you came out in a towel you gasped.

"Spike!"

"Somethin' wrong, love?" He played it cool.

He could sense her nervousness. He breathed in her panic.

"What are you doing here? I didn't hear you knock." You scrambled to get clothes.

"That's cause I didn' knock."

You stand there in a towel, clothes in hand. You decide it’s best to go back to the bathroom to change. Spike is aware of your dilemma.

"Don't let me stop you." He grins.

"Just turn around." You sigh giving up.

He does as you ask. He feels giddy knowing that your naked body was mere feet away from him. How he longed to look. But he was a gentleman and respected your wishes.

"Done" he turns back around.

"Havin' fun, are we?"

You stammer looking for the right answer. "A girl has needs."

He stood up and moved faster than you expected. He put his hand on your hip and pulled you to him. Bodies flushed together. You could feel every inch of him. His other hand trailed your face with the back of his hand.

"If your needs were bein’ neglected, why didn' you come to me?" He was feeling bold, brash.

You forget to breathe. Your head is spinning. You remind yourself to take it slow. To think before reacting, but your body betrays you and your thoughts go haywire.

You wrap your arms around his neck, settling into his hold. Feeling the comfort of his body.

"You know why..." was all you said. It was enough for Spike to falter, to almost loosen his grip. He steadies himself and holds you tighter, hoping you feel his resolve.

"It could be different." He tries.

"We're too far apart." You hold your ground.

"Let's close the gap, then." He insists.

You both stay as you are, staring into each other’s eyes. Fighting a lost battle. Too much is at stake and there's not enough space for mistakes.

His eyes beg you to reconsider, but your resolve never waivers. He has so much to say but not enough words. How to ask for you to choose him when he couldn't even choose himself?

"What would it take?" He was determined.

You faltered. What would it take? You hold your silence, mulling the question over. Spike grew impatient, afraid.

Spike sighs, defeated. He lets go of your body, putting distance between you two.

You stand there in ruins. You could have it all but at what cost. You were not meant to be loved. And he wasn't mean to be good. If these two situations were to dissipate, the difference it would make. You wondered if this change would bring you peace and break the curse. You didn't dare entertain the idea.

You both stood silent, waiting for the other to speak first. The seconds felt like hours.

"Want to dance?" You cave.

He looks up at you. He wondered if that was all you were capable of giving him. He wonders if that was all he could have. He assents.

You find a slow song playlist. Something smooth and personal.

"No waltz tonight, pet?" He smiles softly.

You shake your head. You wanted him to hold you.

You lay your head on his chest, while he wraps his arms around you. The proximity was killing him. He has you so close and yet you were so far away from his grasp.

The music plays softly as your bodies sway. Spike makes sure to memorize every second of your time together. He may not have you forever but he has you right now, and that is pure bliss.

A knock is heard on the bedroom door. You both are startled but don't break contact.

Matteo stood at the doorway, annoyed. At the sight of him you let go of Spike and straighten yourself. Spike smiles smugly at him.

"Matteo... what's wrong?"

"I left my phone." He points to it on your nightstand.

You stand there as he gets his phone, walking past Spike who refused to move. You swear you hear Matteo growl lowly, but you brush it off.

"Sorry to interrupt." He squares up to Spike and walks out of the room.

You palm your face out of embarrassment.

"What's wrong with your boyfriend?" Spike asks, still smug.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Sorry, your lover." Spike spoke the last word through gritted teeth.

"Not that either." You busy yourself by making the bed.

"What would you call him, then?" He laid down on the bed impeding you from completing your task.

You sigh in frustration, "what do you call Buffy?" You bite back.

"By her name." He smiles his shit eating grin.

You look at him. You remind yourself to breathe. This man was going to be the end of you on so many levels. You walk out of the room into the kitchen. He follows you to the kitchen.

"Worked ourselves an appetite, did we?" Spike was still grinning, sitting on your counter.

You turn to him thinking of ways to shut him up, to catch him off guard. The only thought in your head was how badly you wanted to taste his words, to kiss him senseless. That, in itself, would bring more trouble and confusion than just sending him away. You're passion quickly turns bitter as you remember his choices.

"Don't you have a slayer to take care of?" You insinuate.

"That's why I’m here." Spike is feeling flirty and needy. Tonight was not a night for Buffy. Tonight he had to prove that he was the only one in y/n's life. Tonight, Matteo had your body but Spike had your heart.

You sigh. "I can't keep doing this with you." You turn to him, defeated.

He's caught off guard by your confession. He stutters and fails to find something to say. What did you mean by that? Was this you pushing him away? Anger bubbles in his stomach.

"But you can with that werewolf?" Spike said venomously.

"I already told you, he's a distraction. Just like the others, he has an expiration date."

"Others?!" Spike raises his voice.

"What do you want from me? I have needs. I can't just settle down. Not while I’m cursed."

"Am I not good enough? Am I too beneath you?" Spike was closer to you, closing the gap.  

"What? No. It's just... you're different." You waiver.

"Different. You mean evil."

You raise your chin in defiance. Who was he to be questioning your choices.

"You're being quite bold for someone who is openly fucking someone else."

He's incredulous.

"You want something with me but not enough to let Buffy go. You don't want me. You want what you can't have." You spit out, angry and hurt.

"Is that what you think? That I’m only here because you're unreachable?"

"Why else would you not commit? Why else would you play with me, make me feel?"

He scoffs. In some level she was right. He couldn't let go of Buffy. He needed the punishment, the constant reminder he was only dirt. But he craved y/n because she brought him hope. He needed to feel the light even when he hadn’t earned it. But he wasn't ready to admit all of this to himself. He wanted to be selfish. To move through two worlds, to be balanced. To feel.

"I've heard enough." He states.

"So, what now?" You were determined, you needed closure.

"Keep your werewolf. Live in your fantasy. You want to find peace so bad but you're too busy escaping what you have." He told the truth, unafraid of the repercussions.

Before you could provide a rebuttal he stepped away and went for the door.

"You want to feel something so bad but you're too busy punishing yourself." You yelled after him, wanting the last word.

You hear the door slam. He's gone. You feel tears roll down your face. A thousand years and you had never cried for man. You stand there feeling sorry for yourself. Hating how things ended.

Spike storms down to his crypt. Angry and hurt. He made the first move, and he was shot down. What else did he think was going to happen? He wanted to be bold and flirty in the hopes you would reciprocate but it blew up in his face, just like he deserved. Pain through Buffy and pain through y/n, just desserts. He knew better but he needed something, anything to hold onto hope. This just proved that he wasn't good enough. He didn't deserve the light, the hope, the love. At least, not as he is now. Soulless and evil. He is reminded that the chip was the only thing keeping him in your world. He could never be the key to your curse but he wanted to be your respite, your companion. He dreamed of that much. He was but half a man and half a vampire. He craved to be whole but that would mean a sacrifice.

He enters his crypt in a haste. He quickly picks up after himself, determined to leave and find what he’s looking for. Buffy busts through the door. Focused and wanting. She throws herself on Spike. Rough kisses and wandering hands. Spike is unresponsive, holding his ground. He feared the repercussions of his choice, but if he wanted more for himself he would have to sacrifice immediate gratification.

"What?" Buffy spit out disdainfully.  

"Not tonight, love." He pries himself from her grasp.

He fears a fight will break out. He is ready to endure her rage.

Enraged, she pushes him away. “What? Too caught up on y/n?

He’s taken aback. He refuses to answer. Buffy gets closer, menacingly.

“You keep dreaming of her as if you deserved her. You’re nothing to her, like you’re nothing to me.”

Spike stands his ground, tears burning in his eyes.

Buffy gives up and walks away. "Don't expect me to come back."

Buffy exits the crypt leaving Spike alone with his thoughts. He is glad that there was no physical altercation but can’t help but feel beat down and bruised.

"Fuck..." he mumbled under his breath.

Alone by force and alone by choice. He felt like he couldn’t catch a break. So many thoughts and none conducive to an answer or solution. Spike stood frozen, afraid. He knew what would get him to the person of his desire. However, was he strong enough to conquer his own demons? Was he strong enough to become who he wanted to be? He pondered this as he wrote a quick note to y/n. He needed answers. He needed to re-inhabit his body. No more dancing on the edge of pain and punishment. No more lust and violence. If he wanted an answer from you, the answer he craved, he had to give up the chains that kept him drowning in an ocean of despair.

He got on his motorcycle and drove to your house. He dropped off the note in your mailbox and drove off.

He hoped that you would read the note. He hoped you would wait for him. He hoped.

[winkliee]

Hello I'm back! How are you? I really loved your first Hantengu's clones fic ! Your writing is really amazing !

Could I request some Yandere Hantengu's clones when they first find out about their s/o ? How would they become obsessed with them ? It can be either separate or together !

If you're too uncomfortable with this request, could you maybe write the same but without yandere please ?

The reader can be either gn or fem, it doesn't matter to me !

Thank you again and have a good day/night ! 🫶

i am so happy you liked it! ty for your request!! hope you are having a good day!

yandere hantengu clones finding out about their s/o!!

warnings: yandere theme, blood/gore, slightly suggestive, mentions of stalking, smut in karaku's part, y/n is seen in different professions and perspectives

sekido!!

he found you out after following some slayers for a surprise attack. you were a nurse at the infirmary, and once he laid his eyes on you, he was in awe. you had a charm, and it worked like magic on him, not only him, but also the others. he didn't complete his mission then, if that leads to you and the others relocating to a safer place? every night he would sneak back to a safe hiding spot, and watch you through your window. by now, he knew your exact routine, since you were so punctual. he would stay all the time you were sleeping, once even burning himself in the sun as he was late to move out. he burns in unimaginable rage when he sees you tending to other slayers, while he cannot receive the same treatment. his jealousy was fueled even more when he saw you concerned over the plight of a missing slayer, someone he had butchered to death just that day, the stench of blood on his hands stronger than ever.

"i will definitely have you only for mine one day," he promises to himself.

karaku!!

karaku must be grateful to daki and gyutaro for guiding his trip in the red light district. how else would he have met you? you were cute, an oiran, and utterly beautiful. he wanted to know her even more, also going to the extent of teasing daki that you were more beautiful than her, when he got to know that you and daki weren't on good terms, he was underwhelmed, since he wanted to get introduced to you. soon enough, he understood he was falling for you, whenever he would get jealous hearing your moans from other men pleasuring you, while he stood outside your window, his hands palming his erection. there was some sort of excitement in this which he felt, which even dragged on to the moment he killed the men who came out from your bedroom, as he would not keep any man who came out from your bedroom alive. he hopes one day he can lay his hands on you, as your customer, and make you his forever.

aizetsu!!

[can't imagine aizetsu as yandere but here we are]

he knew he was doomed from the moment he laid his eyes on you. you almost killed him, and he-he likes you now? he was embarrassed and ashamed with himself as he blushed to the scars you gave him, deliberately not healing them. he started lurking around close to the corps location, checking on your whereabouts, when he was heartbroken to see you already having a lover. he tried to console himself but he couldn't, only watching both of you share kisses and hugs in the vicinity of your bedroom, while his heart burns with jealousy. he wants you to be happy, even though he often finds himself crying on lonely nights, being sure that muzan kibutsuji would kill him if he came to know of his "love story". but all hell broke loose when he saw you two having a quarrel, and he was shouting at you, while you cried. aizetsu was filled with so much rage, he would not let anyone hurt what is his, let alone her lover. as he came out of their house, aizetsu came out of nowhere, punching him, strangling him and almost leaving him half dead when he realized what he had done. he fled, but somehow the stench and sight of blood in his hands made him happy, until he saw you crying for him, and not for aizetsu, when his heart was broken again.

"someday would surely come when you will cry for me, and that day i am even ready to accept death."

urogi!!

his emotion of joy changes to sadistic pleasure as you scream into his ears and scratch him, telling him to release you. but he won't. after all he has won you. why did he take all the trouble, from following you helping your family bring logs from the forest to seeing your stomach rise softly as you breathe, of course all of this is to win you. although he does regret not getting to consume your now dead family, it would have been such a meal for him. but now he is satisfied with you, as he laughs as you helplessly cling onto him, while he flies high in the sky, taking you to somewhere only he knows.

"you are mine now princess," he says lovingly with a smile on his face, "although i might break a bone or two if you try to escape."

thank you for reading. likes and reblogs are appreciated.

[disco-tea]

NO BUT LISTEN OKAY LISTEN. Two of the biggest burdens Buffy had, the two things that truly kept her trapped, that doomed her to a life of endless pain and ultimately death…was her being the only chosen one and the Hellmouth. She couldn’t escape her calling, and she couldn’t leave the Hellmouth. But then came the scythe…the Slayer’s scythe that is the reason they could awake all the other slayers. The reason Buffy is truly no longer the only chosen one. No longer alone in her fight. And she says she was able to get it because Spike gave her the strength to go claim it. Because he helped her. Because he believed in her. And then there’s the Hellmouth, the Hellmouth that Spike destroyed, that he closed. That he stood on top of refused to leave until the job was done, even at the cost of his life.

ITS YOUR WORLD UP THERE. NOW GO!

Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? Buffy’s free. Buffy’s not trapped anymore. All the responsibility isn’t solely on her anymore. She can live her life and not have to endlessly guard the gates of hell. She can live in the world now. Go and see the world and what it has to offer.

He loved her so much, he gave her the world, even if he wasn’t going to be apart of it

[osiris-iii-bc]

Papa’s playlists - music headcanons

Sometimes when I listen to music I mentally associate what I’m listening to the Papas, so I thought it would have been fun to imagine a 10 songs playlist for/of each Papa. I have chosen the songs by their personalities, the kind of music they have done and the general vibes I get when I listen to the songs.

Primo:

I see him sitting on his couch by the fire, immersed in his voluminous, rich vestments. He can listen to the heaviest doom metal tune without moving an inch of his body, fully immersed in understanding the lyrics, but 70s rock always brings back his old memories of when he used to throw small parties in his chamber whenever the Beatles or his favorite bands released a new LP.

The Beatles - Come together 

Black Sabbath - Iron Man

Mayhem - Freezing moon

The Rolling Stones - Start me up

Candlemass - Bewitched

Bathory - A fine day to die 

Mercyful fate - Evil

The animals - House of the rising sun

Slayer - Seasons in the Abyss

Diamond Head - Am I Evil?

Secondo:

He has two sides: the old-school metalhead and the devoted enthusiast of good old symphonic music. He prepares himself a cigar and settles at his desk, embracing the darkness like the nocturnal creature he is, to work on papers or perhaps write some lyrics inspired by his favorite arias. In his playlist, you can always find something classy followed by something extremely heavy.

Led Zeppelin - Kashmir

Slayer - South of Heaven

Venom - Don’t burn the witch

Giuseppe Verdi - Dies Irae/Tuba Mirum

Deep Purple - Perfect Strangers

King Diamond - The family ghost

The Doors - Riders on the storm

Guns and Roses - Coma

Bobby Vinton - Blue velvet 

Antonio Vivaldi - Four Seasons

Terzo:

Ah, Terzo. Whether he's completing his nighttime skincare routine, getting dressed for a mass, preparing for a date, or simply relaxing in his chambers with a good wine, he always has a record playing in the background. He's not a headbanger, but he likes to keep the tempo with his hands. He taps his fingers on his thigh to match the drum tempo of most rhythmic songs or moves his hands softly to the sound of the mellower ones, like when he listens to "Barcelona," adjusting his hand movements based on the virtuosity of the voices.

Candlemass - Well of Souls

The struts - Kiss this

Metallica - Until it sleeps

Metallica - For whom the bell tolls

Kreator - People of the lie

Freddie Mercury feat Montserrat Caballe - Barcelona

David Bowie - Starman

Pentagram - Sign of the wolf

Sepoltura - Dead embryonic cells

Mercyful fate - Witches dance 

Copia:

I can totally picture Copia putting on something groovy like "Stuck In The Middle With You" while attempting to cook something, swaying his hips to the rhythm and inevitably either burning whatever is in the pan or creating a mess on the counter by dropping bottles and food.

Alice Cooper - Poison

Iron Maiden - Run to the hills

Steppenwolf - Born to be wild

Dead or Alive - You spin me round 

Black Sabbath - Paranoid

Judas Priest - Painkiller

The Rolling Stones - Sympathy for the devil

Stealers wheel - Stuck in the middle with you 

The Darkness - Love is only a feeling

Bon Jovi - You give love a bad name

Nihil:

An old-school rocker. He would pick you up in his car with Led Zeppelin playing at full volume, take you to a bar where he puts on your favorite song in the jukebox, and by the time you come back from the toilet, he's kissing some random girl right at the bar counter. He would later apologize, claiming he was just drunk and thought that was you… a red flag you'll ignore.

The Doors - Touch me

Led Zeppelin - Whole lotta love

Elton John - Tiny dancer

Ozzy Osburne - Crazy train

Deep Purple - Child in time 

Deep Purple - Hush

Jefferson airplane - White rabbit

Elvis Presley - Suspicious minds

The Rolling Stones -  Paint it black

The Beatles - Helter Skelter

[flynnsdoomangel]

DoomGuy reclaiming his Super Shotgun😌❣️

Had to use a whole Revenant drone to retrieve it!👏🏻

Now if only him and I could take a selfie together here🤣

The Slayers are out here ripping and tearing!😈🩸‼️🌹💍❣️

(Tehehe of course we kissed before proceeding on🤭❤️‍🔥)

[bigboipyromaniac]

I am BEGGING for a sub doom slayer pls and tyy 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

~ 🪼

Omg big man being a sub… im in love

MINORS THERES A CAKE NEXT DOOR, QUICK BEFORE OTHERS EATS IT!!

(Aka minors dni)

Its been a while since Flynn had taken a break, been on the quest to kill the demons and finding that robot he hates, not sure why but whatever fit his cup.

You could hear Flynn repairing one of bis weapons the recently broke on a mission, and how he was handling it, you could tell it was frustrating him. You were just going to leave him be and figure out his own problem but you got a good idea.

You tried to sneak into Flynn’s room but that never goes as planned he can always hear you footsteps, you stopped in your tracks when he turned his head over his shoulders, realizing it was you, he turned back around to his work ignoring you for the most part.

But you can never be ignored.

You walked up behind his and wrapped you are around his waist, you were mainly feeling his body, it was very soft, he did always took care of himself after a mission.

You kept rubbing against his abs and slowly moved your hands lower and lower until it was right on his crotch. He was pretty pent up, it's been a while since you both done it. You can feel his erection in his sweatpants, he was thrusting himself into your hands.

You can tell Flynn was trying to focus on his tinkering, but your hand was making ot a bit hard to focus on where to put things in.

You hand slowly slipped into his pants and started to massage his hard-on. Now this time he really could focus on anything besides you. His moans were a bit louder now and he could stop thrusting into your hands.

You knew Flynn was close to release, but you did want to have a bit of fun with him. You let go before things got a bit messy in his pants, "sit down big man, relax for once." You said and of course Flynn listened like a big puppy. He sat down oh his big chair that you always called his "Big Throne." You sat in front of him and pulled down his pants.

You placed you hands again on his election, Flynn has started thrusting again while moaning, you could tell he was desperate to be inside of you, but where's the fun in that?

You placed his dick into your mouth making sure it was wet enough for it to fit into you. Flynn grabbed your head and made sure that your entire mouth covered his dick.

He could stop fucking your throat, it was so warm and tight. He could keep going on for a day, but you had other plans. You pulled yourself out, and breathed a bit before going back to work.

You climbed on top of Flynn and placed yourself on top of him. You positioned yourself on top of his bones, but before you go down on him..

"You know." He looked up at you.

You should really apologize after what you just did." Flynn gave you an annoyed face, but that quickly changed once you moved your hips around to tease him.

"I-I'm sorry " it's been a while since you've heard his voice

It was nice

"I'm sorry for what?" He signed

I'm sorry for using your throat, please keep going" He said with desperation, you giggled a bit.

"OK if you say so!" You gave his a little kiss on his lips and you lowered yourself down onto his dick . Despite your throat getting absolutely destroyed by him, he's still pretty big inside of you, but that's not going to stop you.

After he was fully in you, he grabbed you by the hips and used you like his own personal flesh toy , but honesty stopping him was the last thing in your mind, it felt too good for it to jaut suddenly stop.

There was no noise besides both of your moans and the slapping between yall. He stood up while still inside and placed you on his desk. His thrust were getting deeper and more messier, he was so close and this time he could let go.

You wrapped your leg around his waist making sure he didn't pull out just yet and moved you arm around his shoulder. After a while, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you closer while his load filled you up. You gave him kisses all around his shoulder while both of you were getting ready to move and clean yourself up.

Soon, Flynn pulled himself out of you, his load started to spill out all over his desk. "I'll clean it up later" He says then placing you over his shoulder.

"Where are you taking me now" You said, a bit tired after the pounding from Flynn.

"Shower, don't worry I'll do all the work." Aw whata sweetheart, maybe you could get a bit of rest while he does that.

Yea that's not happening.

[expvrgction]

Continued from here! @four-4-dream-land

---

Oh, the Slayer could see the possessed Dedede, alright. Poor bird had to be done wrong by the Dark Lord of all people. Were his soul to be at the point of no return corruption-wise, he would have to be ended to put him out of misery.

It felt like a mind-suppressing spell was cast upon him. That was no good. This would have to be dealt with as soon as possible. If it was allowed to take hold in Dedede’s mind, who knows if he would lose further of what defined him.

Well, before everyone involved would start the battle, he would like to ask something.

“Hey, kid.” He decided to speak to Bandanna, his voice filtered by his helmet. “How many times did this bird king end up in situations like this? Doubt this is his first time.”

[cassberry]

Against all the evil that Hell can conjure, all the wickedness that mankind can produce, we will send unto them... only you. Rip and tear, until it is done. - Novik to the Doom Slayer in the intro to Doom Eternal.

Cellbit never misses with his intros.

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

DOOM writing prompt 04 Band

Writing prompts from my doom discord server, tied into the Garnets Story.

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4: "Dad's weird garage band."

The armored being stepped to the back door of the house, hesitated just a moment before trying the door. Gently popping out the lock  and nudged the door, watching it open before stooping to walk in. He paused taking in the kitchen.

The decorations and the dishes set up at the table. How despite the layer of dust the whole kitchen and dining room he could see were cleaned and near before. Some sort of gathering had been about to happen, but there were no signs of hell growth, no scent of corruption… just stillness.

Or almost complete stillness as the Slayer twitched the door closed, walking around. Taking in the home that still stood, reaching for a dark phone on the counter, turning it around in his hands to admire the bright case and tiny notes to… a dad? Uncle? Both?

The phone was whole, so the Slayer slid it into his subspace. Humming as he felt something brush against his senses, walking after it slowly as he recognized the feel of a phantom lingering. Finding a few small glass trinkets he thought his flowers might like. Before really going through things, he followed that feeling. Coming into a garage and paused.

A satisfied sound came out of the Slayer as he found something of his interests that was remarkably preserved. 

Guitars.

Not ones geared to metal but that was okay. They were in proper cases to his right, safe from weather and drastic temperature changes. Different looking but similar alike that it seemed to be a collection of the original owner. Across from him was a beautiful liquor cabinet and bar that tugged on some deeply buried memory.

"Lily wants to know if she can see your feed." Vega spoke softly in the Slayer's ear, even as he sensed where the phantom was finally.

The Demigod nodded, stepping over to twitch the blanket over the dry remains. Giving it a soft pat as he looked at the couch with a photo album and a free guitar. His fingers running over the hand written music on the front cover, flipping through some pictures.

"I'm sorry John for interrupting. I just wanted to….oooh pretty." Lily's voice trailed off as she saw the same photo album, handmade and custom for this family. 

John nodded his agreement, pointedly not looking at the hazy after imagining of the phantom. He closed the book, looking at the written music and reached for the guitar left. Gently, he had to be so gentle as he tuned it, feeling the soft not really weight settle in his arms.

"What's the music?" Lily asked, detracted from what she had been about to ask.

The Slayer hummed a long familiar few notes to himself, and his flower. He had to use so much self control as he was in armor. Able to use the edge of the armor on his fingers to pick out the notes. Matching what he hummed a moment before with the notes. He was a little slow the first time playing, marveling that he could remember reading music, but then again it might be old, old muscle memory of a beloved hobby.

John smiled in his helmet, and played the whole song of 'home on the range' instead of just that small section in the album. When he was done, the demigod shifted the guitar, holding a hand out to the human phantom sitting on the couch listening. Not many refined details, their outline seemed fuzzy like an out of focus picture. Gently wiggling his finger until the once man put both hands into John's palm.

Gently, fondly, John pulled them up and then against his side. Like an one arm hug until the phantom lost even more form. Not unlike how he would absorb the energy of phantom Sentinels, the Demigod did the same here. Hosting the sacred spirit until they were ready to pass on after a few days.

"That was the buffalo song right?" Lily wondered, speaking only after John set the guitar safely in an open case.

The not quite man nodded. Want these.

"I'll let the Sentinels know." Vega answered.