Ｇｏｄ Ｈｕｎｔｅｒ

the power of Beta Ray Bill

stolevoice

🇧🇷🇮🇳🇬🇸 🇴🇺🇹 🇹🇭🇪 DEVIL 🇮🇳 🇲🇪 ʜᴇʟʟ ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ

𝕀𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔸𝕓𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕖 ℤ𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 ℤ𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕓𝕪 ℂ𝕁

#sp.

It had been so long since she has been so singly addressed. When people ask her questions, it is rare they are asking her. She is addressed as a collective, an emissary of her people. The word you had lost all personal meaning. Even if someone were addressing her, she had lost so much sense of her self that she hardly knew how to answer them.

But when he speaks to her, as he pledges his allegiances there is no denying, there is no room for misinterpretation. He speaks to her & her alone. He has stayed here for her. He risks his life for her. He endures, for her. Somehow those vacant eyes have pierced the veil she has worn all these years like a second skin. One that, when she looks upon herself in a mirror, had replaced her memories of her youth. Of the brave & joyous young woman she used to be. She had always been a selfless person — but somewhere along the way she had given too much amongst the vastness of what had been taken.

As they look upon each other Medusa is profoundly grateful for his ability to see through it all. How he can, she cannot say — oftentimes she can hardly see through her own plight & sorrows & into her soul. But he does, just as she can see into his. & how beautiful a thing it is, how precious & true. She realises that he thinks the same of hers, even if she does not. In the darkest corner of her mind she still believes she is undeserving.

But in her heart she can feel the truth. How it swells when he is near, how his large form curls around hers in protection, how his warmth leeches into her being & radiates, thaws what has long been frozen over. Despite the anguish the past few days has caused her, Medusa finds the strength to smile. It is small & somewhat pained, but it is sincere. It is for him, because of him. In spite of the pain there is still some joy to behold in all of this. He is alive. He is with her. He is hers.

She will cherish this fact for the remainder of her days.

Bandaged hand moves to the fullest part of his jaw as her other slides upward over smooth, supple skin to mirror it. Firmly, insistently yet with a gentle touch does she guide his maw downward between them, so she may look upon him eye to eye, as much was possible with their difference in size. Thumbs brush across his copper skin affectionately before she turns her cheek, presses it to the topside of his maw as slender hands guide his head to press more firmly against hers.

“You remind me,” she whispers. “in every glance, in every embrace, in every flower gifted… Your purpose is to live. To forge new memories, new hearths. …With me.”

#ooc ;#I only feel the need to clarify what that is because a few years ago some asshole on anon #came along and was like “that's not real you're just cis”

Theirs was a love that could never truly be. Wasn't it? Bill was ever only a pauper, a piece of disposable weaponry to be used for the betterment of the people he served. A knight, at most, with an end that had long been written in stone as dying for those he had his protection. Yet she was royalty, not that she was treated any better than him by the whims of reality but that she stood as an almost forbidden fruit with her heart belonging to--

To him. Is the realization that burns through his mind as those delicate hands caress either side of his looming maw. Delicate as it was it almost brought him to tears at how long such a beautiful feeling had come to him from such an idle touch. More even when the gentle caress of her beautiful face brushes against a face that he so despised. Cared for him, looked at him, saw him, in spite of what the universe had made of him.

Bill loved her with everything he had and until now that had been nothing but pain and misery. Something that had never in his life been a stranger. Reliability in knowing how to react to the way he would be kicked while he was still reeling. Maybe that was why he almost flinched at her words, expecting her to lay him down again and remind him of the distance that would still be driven between them like a wedge.

So why instead is he met with saccharine words like honey? There had been no president on how to react, to know how for once in his life not be kicked while already reeling in agony.

Pawing at her, his hands trembling with uncertainty as she greets his defeatism with love and there is no more delightful feeling than meeting her love with his own. With the gentlest of caresses his muzzle brushes against her cheek, eyes clothing as he sits in the feeling of her words. There was so much hunger and desire to kiss her, to embrace her in a lock of lips he no longer had...

"I suppose if that's the case... I shouldn't be so cavalier with a heart I hold so precious..." His hands fall loosely to the bed, setting upon the bed between them as he has no clear way in his mind he wanted to cherish her or this moment.

#medusx

bringbackwendellvaughn

milkmemes

TAGS I'VE SEEN ON MY DASH

Starters from tags I've seen on my dash. Feel free to change any pronouns as needed and adjust however necessary.

❛ HE'S INSANE! ❜

❛ You are a FREAK of nature. ❜

❛ YES! I AM SO HAPPY THAT YOU ALSO SEE THE VISION … ❜

❛ WOULD YOU RATHER … COMPLIMENT SOME GUYS MUSCLES OR HAVE HIM COMPLIMENT YOU AND IMPLY THAT YOU MAY HAVE TO GET DEVOURED BY A FOREST CREATURE IN THE SAME BREATH????? ❜

❛ LOVE OF MY LIIIIIFE!!! THIS IS MY WHOLE WIFEYY!! ❜

❛ Please never think I lost interest. I only lost my mind. ❜

❛ I'm just saying my heart??? Massive. ❜

❛ Rest in pepperonis [name]. ❜

❛ I'm cleaning off the cobwebs here. Don't mind me. ❜

❛ Play board games with him you said. Bet you weren't expecting CANDYLAND! ❜

❛ COUCH IS LOVE! COUCH IS LIFE! ❜

❛ I want to say I'm sorry but I'm not. ❜

❛ Actually reported. The audacity. ❜

❛ I'm pushing all my barbies into your barbies. ❜

❛ She's so nervous and awkward I love her. ❜

❛ Please beat his ass. I give you the ok. ❜

❛ I don't know what this is, but here you go. ❜

❛ Go to sleep. It's past your bedtime you horny bitch.❜

❛ He don't know how romance works. ❜

❛ I have a feeling I didn't really answer the question. ❜

❛ I swear I will find it and I didn't hallucinate it. ❜

❛ I keep thinking about that one sonic tiktok using the king of the hill joke and I'm still crying laughing about it. ❜

❛ Mother is here. ❜

❛ Should I do it? No obviously. Am I going to? I don't know yet. ❜

❛ How do you casually ask another man to ride in a car … that you just met? ❜

❛ I have two types: Older Brother or someone full of whimsy. ❜

❛ I will have my cowboy empire. ❜

❛ If the good lord's willing and the creek don't rise- ❜

❛ I have a lot of organized crime baddies. ❜

❛ Is this ass guys? I can't tell if this is ass. ❜

❛ MUST BE JELLY CUZ JAM DON'T SHAKE YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYIN'?! ❜

❛ Okay I'm ready you can put me down now. ❜

❛ I'm here now and I need to make it everyone's problem. ❜

❛ I can and will abuse this power. ❜

❛ Forgive him, the tomatoes made him do it. ❜

❛ It's not too late for us. ❜

❛ Glass bones doesn't get you to the top. Vegetables do. ❜

❛ Neglect your veggies and you'll end up getting blown away. ❜

❛ They were in fact my sins. She was simply Satan. ❜

❛ Cute girlfriend acquired. ❜

❛ I'm lactose intolerant but I still think you're great. ❜

#memes ;

Pride is the time to tell everyone that Bill is demisexual and demiromantic, which generally means attraction and romantic feelings typically only develop when an emotional connection is established with no preference based on gender

i think if bill were turned human suddenly he would be winston duke so if that gives people insight onto bill appearance-wise

we love one (1) man

As he struggles to move to his side Medusa instinctively moves to stop him; hair snaking forward in thick locks, unbandaged hand moving to press firmly against his large bicep but she stops herself. Hair returns to its mass, though her hand remains against his skin. She listens intently, carefully -- taking in the true meaning of his words. Words, for her, were not the most honest form of communication. Words could be spun to deceive, to placate, to pacify. The face was as much a book to read, each line a sentence. More true & honest, less easily concealed or contorted.

He cuts himself off, but Medusa knows the vivid & horrible visions flashing in his minds eye. The wrinkle in his brow tells the story of the loss of his birth planet. The downturn of the corners of his eyes sings the death song of all the souls he'd seen lost. The clenching of his teeth in response to the bitter taste of finding home once more, & almost having lost it again.

He protects them, as much as he protects himself.

Medusa swallows the immaterial, selfish emotions she has let herself succumb to. She knows better after all, the price of war, the hollowness of loss. She has felt all of this, has paid the price, has taken the toll. An instrument of it as much as is the cause. Their family makes the decisions, she speaks the King's orders. There was even a time when she spoke her own. There is blood on her hands, too. She just could not live with herself if it were his.

Bare hand creeps forward like a vine, finding purchase upon the underside of his muzzle. Touch is featherlight, soothing -- her eyes soften to pillows. "The pain of your losses... I would feel of yours."

"You are no longer alone, Bill -- you now have others to lean upon. My only request is that you do so."

#medusx #will you two just fucking kiss already--

She is the furthest from wicked he can fathom, her heart burning with this homely warmth that made him feel welcome the moment he had come to their city. Truly, despite having his body be so labored by the Asgardian mead, he had been captured from the moment they had pulled him from his hovel of depression and self destruction. Now in clearer minds he had always been so ashamed that he had only agreed to hearing them out upon learning that Lockjaw had been 'killed'.

They had saved him from that which could destroy even an indestructible beast of a warrior such as himself. In this proceeding months, even as his heart formed all of these little fractures knowing there was much that couldn't be, he felt full with a sense of purpose. One that even the whole of Korbin had failed to reward him with.

To die for these peoples and aide in their plight would have been as much of an honor as serving as guardian of Asgard. But his features cringe again, wincing at her offering comforts that he too would offer her. Neither of them were alone, and though his death would have been quick, the death of Medusa seemed slow and daunting. Drawn out by isolation and self sacrifice.

"Your Highne--" Stopping himself, he resets. "Medusa. I have pledged myself. To you. I would die to see you safe. I would live to see you happy. I would give all to see you smile..."

The weight of wanting to kiss her but having no lips, the burden of wanting to hold her, but not having rights to her heart, the pain of wanting to love her, but knowing she was still so far away...

From her thigh he pulls his hand away, resting it upon her upper back, still practiclaly absorbing her whole shape. Thumb, despite being so large, rolls a gentle circle against her tense muscles, taking a moment to simply look at her. To see her as she was and for all hse deserved. Bill despised that he loved her but in the same breath he could not help himself.

Even if he were not basking in the radiance of her beauty's light he would be enamored. Captured by her gentle soul and bold heart, he could not escape.

"If my memory would serve to have made you remember that one person stood only for you, then I would have served my purpose..."

comicbookhyperfixationtime

Scion of Korbin

He's literally blushing omg he's so cute I love the horse man

Immortal Thor (2023) #4

the guy i'm working for at this con bought me a marvel legends dormammu and green goblin 😖

apparently i think my type of characters go

Angry, life has found its purpose in making them miserable, and deep within their core they respond to the anger outwardly in different ways - Probably to give me an outlet for the same shit

Reluctantly powerful, characters who exist in a body with power and strength they did not ask for, and if they did not restrain themselves they would so easily destroy everything and that destroys them inside - idk man, this is the kind of trans allegory i write as an outlet, i know other trans writers write their characters story of coming out and it's beautiful. but my life is so fucking messy that i'm just forced to not, and it just feels like that and that's how I choose to write it.

Sad, probably avoiding their sadness through whatever they do and use it as an excuse to not feel. Avoidance as a coping mechanism.

All 3, miserable combo of all 3 or varying lengths of 2 at once.

The fucking shit-gremlin, there he fucking is, that lil asshole.

While he speaks her eyes remain downcast, upon her hands. How foolish she feels suddenly — how terribly she fretted, how intensely had she felt the fear of his loss, how that fear ravaged her, body & soul. How he downplays his valiant efforts makes her feel absurd for even contemplating the loss of him. Impossible. & yet… she had felt it nonetheless.

She had lived too vividly within the picturesque fantasy they had painted with such pretty words. What had only been days had felt like half a lifetime with how often her minds’ eye was drawn to it. The latent possibility & myriad what if’s crept into her reality like a thick fog. She saw him everywhere he was not, yearned for him to materialise. He placed his large hand over her thigh, making it almost completely disappear. He was here, this was their reality. As terrible & heart-wrenching as it was, it was true. & it was theirs.

She nods her agreement, small & somewhat meek compared to her usual demeanour. “Praise be.” To the Old Kings. To him. For watching over them to intently.

Slender, unburnt hand moved to cover a mere section of the back of his. At his question Medusa blinked, turning her head to the window to her left in answer. It was not yet dark, though it was coming. Truthfully she couldn’t say — she only had eyes for him. People had come & gone in her time here; to check on him, to offer her food. It was still there, cold & stale in the corner of the room by the vanity. Everything forsaken in favour of watching over him. Little else did matter in comparison. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered, fingers twitching against his smooth, copper skin. A wave of tears swelled unexpectedly within her eyes, in her chest.

But it did matter. She could not dismiss how she felt. It kept returning no matter how valiantly she tried to push it away. She turned to him with tears in her eyes, emotion thick in her throat. Fear & relief all at once. “You frightened me.” she struggles, hands closing desperately around whatever portion of him they could. His thumb, the side of his hand. A tear slipped, then another, as she leant in closer. “I thought I would never see you again.”

#medusx #first attempt writing this? meh 7 out of 10 not bad could be way better.#second attempt? so anyway I found this knife and I covered it with acid so it would burn in addition to the pointy stabby bit

Medusa looked tired, even though it was a visage still yet worn with grace Bill could tell in their time together just how long it had been since she had rested properly. Couldn't have imagined it had taken only hours for her to have begun falling asleep in a chair as she had. There's a good amount of thought put towards how much turmoil his position had put her through. Though he had been the one to consume a raging fireball she had been the one with her feet to the coals.

Keeping their shared secret while at the same time burdened by the dread of what would happen if he were to not wake up. It's that sort of realization that shows him perhaps that treating his own existence with flippancy like that would only further harm her. When tears begin to flood like a wellstream into that beautiful emerald gaze he knows even more the undue pain she endured because of his insistence upon knowing.

She did not think herself the only one frightened, did she? When in what could have been his final moments as he brought his hammer down upon the warhead he had thought first of her people, and lastly of her. Long beautiful crimson tresses, selfless soul hidden behind such stoic beauty, he often forgets that his own sort of pain is not driven by the death but by the surviving, and chastises himself internally.

Yet in the same breath?

"If it meant you would survive, then I would have done it a thousandfold." He aches when he moves twisting to lay more comfortably on his side, a mountain of flesh beside her, brows wrinkled tightly in concern as he stared at her. While Bill did not by any rights fear death, it didn't give him the right to be so open with his feelings and then so cavalier about his life.

"I am sorry for the pain I have caused you, as much cannot be overstated." Guilt is such that her pain cuts him deeply, striking passed that invulnerable skin to the heart he had so readily given to her.

"All I could think about was--" Fire, burning explosions ripping through earthen crust. Another world, another home, ripped apart by demons from hell itself. The shape he sees in the fire of his nightmare, the colossal hand grasping at a larger still sword of everburning flame. Death once more coming to that which he loved, held dear. Silencing the symphony of sweet sounds of people living their lives in harmonic peace until all that remained were the howling ghosts of memories. The Inhumans would not be as the Korbinites had been.

Bill would not be alone again.

Not when he'd found home.

"I told myself even a moment of hesitation would be dangerous to your people... Then all I could think about was you. Even as I crashed back down to the ground. If you were safe then it was all worth whatever pain I endured..."

Y'all good? having a good happy night?

well fuck you

His pain is felt in her: visible upon his brow, the labour of his breaths, the tightening of his jaw. It seizes her already battered heart like a vice grip. Still she remains strong, only concern creases her brow, only tenderness glimmers in her eyes as he slowly leans back into the plush comfort of the bed. Unable is she to leave his side, & so, so carefully does she place herself weightlessly upon the small space atop the bed he does not occupy. She seems to fill it perfectly, nestled daintily beside his bandaged ribcage. Like she had been created for this one purpose.

Hands slip from his burnt body into her lap, his radial heat burning her scorched hand beneath its bandage, throbbing tightly within its confines. Hair stays a while longer, until she is sure he will not move again. The thick lock closest to his jaw moves gentle, tender strokes beneath, until it too recedes like the tide being called home. “No, no, we are all well. Thanks to you... You should have called us to your side…”

How could you? How could you leave without at least a goodbye? What if you had not returned?

Medusa swallowed thickly, pushing away her awful thoughts. She had no need of them, for he was here before her. Well. More in tact than she had expected, than she dared to dream he would be, more than she had allowed herself to believe. Randac heard her prayers, the Old Kings watched over him as he protected their people. They had ignored her pleas for so long, she had almost forgotten how powerful they truly were. For protecting him & her heart, she was thankful.

His milky eyes would not catch her emeralds, the ache in her chest heartrending. She dipped her head, attempting desperately to catch their attention. His words struck her suddenly, coating her eyes in a thin sheen. Reflexively she curled her bandaged fingers inward, attempting to hide that which he had already seen. Still, even now, even after all the damage he’d absorbed for them, he is only concerned for the welfare of others. He is too good to be true, yet here he is. A blessing. A miracle.

“Nothing, I —” Too pure & true for the likes of her. She swallowed, looked downward to what caught his attention. Fist curled tighter, the throbbing more intense. Penance. “I touched what I should not have.”