#and made me cry that like. he stopped masking to stim by walking against the wall and chewing his sleeve ;o;

[c-kiddo]

have you read ‘a little breeze tossing a leaf in a circle’ by fadewoods on ao3? it’s an autistic cad fic and it is so lovely,,,,, i started it while in the middle of my discovery of me being autistic and it touched me in a way that has stopped me from finishing it so far. it is just so,,, genuine and honest and real for me and really helped me a lot in connecting to myself and unmasking, i think. very good and lovely caduceus just. existing in exandria, i recommend! :3c

aa yea, i have ;o; !!

i have rambled about this fic before i think but,, i am so happy for you, that you had that experience reading it :''3 it means a lot to me. like, its funny to me in a way, that the best representation ive ever seen for myself as an autistic person is a fanfiction. i rly love it a lot... just.. the loneliness and strangeness of being autistic and not masking as much, the going in circles trying to figure out how to do multiple tasks at once (more of an adhd thing but, still .. nd thoughts). also!! the way routine is portrayed made me feel rly seen. it wasnt like, super organised or something.. just the expectation that fjord would be there, or that people would have tea everyday at certain times :'o ack.. it just is important to me. ive read it many times haha :'')

#also th hyperempathy i experienced in th sensory overload scene was so much ksjnfksnjkf i just Felt it sm #it felt so real #and made me cry that like. he stopped masking to stim by walking against the wall and chewing his sleeve ;o; #its just. aaaa yea . i know it wasnt a good thing that happened. but rep of autistic folks being allowed to be messy and upset makes me ;w; #asks #berrie-bear

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

So this is a personal one for me to ask and if you're not comfortable with it don't mind it; how would the tmnt boys (seperate) react when the reader confesses that they're autistic after the boys got curious when she had some peculiar, behavior or stims. The reader would be stressed, because she has a crush on the tmnt boy in question and she didn't want them to find her weird or just stop interacting with her. When she's met with confusion instead, because the boys never heard of it, cue this weird conversation where reader tells them to the best of her ability what it is and the boys just keep asking questions. Also some general headcannons with it maybe?

Okay so I'm actually really happy that you asked me this because I feel like ASD isn't portrayed a lot in any type of media. My ADD and ASD have a lot of overlap so I hope I can capture what you're asking of me!

Now let's get into it!

TMNT Headcanons

The boys reacting to an autistic reader

Leonardo

he wasn't really sure what was happening the first time you reacted

one minute you were standing next to him doing dishes and the next you were attempting to claw your skin off like an angry cat

Leo tried not to look annoyed as he watched you rub your hands against your shirt until your flesh started to turn red

you looked like you were crying but he knew you weren't

but your face was starting to turn purple and your cheeks were puffy from the effort of holding your breath

"Y/N? You need to breathe."

You shot a glare at him, scathing eyes meeting his now very concerned expression

your own softened and you clutched your arms to your chest, heaving oxygen into your lungs until your face became a normal shade again

"Are you okay?"

The words were stuck in your throat and you weren't sure if you should nod or shake your head

so you gave him a half-hearted shrug

he frowned back at you but turned to finish the dishes on his own

when he questioned you about it later he couldn't help but be curious

"Well actually it's uh- it's kinda a sensory type of thing? There are certain textures that I can't stand touching do I avoid them but if I come into contact by accident my brain just kinda explodes and I shut down."

"How exactly does that work though?"

"I don't really understand it much but like- you know that feeling you get when you think there's a bug on you and there's not but it really really feels like it?"

He nodded

"Yeah, it feels like that. And anytime I touch something that triggers that reaction it takes FOREVER to get the feeling off my skin. That's why I usually wear gloves when I do dishes. Guess I just forgot to grab 'em today."

He was sympathetic

and god, you were so embarrassed

lucky for you, Leo's not an asshole

"Well thank you for explaining it to me, you really freaked me out earlier. I'll talk to April and see if we can keep a pair or two at the lair just in case you forget again."

Consider your heart melted

you couldn't even find the words to thank him and holy shit was your face red

"Hey y/n?"

"Yeah Leo?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me- us that you were autistic?"

Did you rip the band aid off now or make something up? Which would ,technically speaking, be less catastrophic in the long run?

"I uh- I really like you and I really didn't want you or the other's to look at me differently..."

wow, you liked him? miss ma'am you have saved this boy a world of anxiety and damn does he thank you for it

"Thanks for telling me... and y/n? I really like you to."

Awh fuck yeah, best possible execution of band aid-ripping-off ever

Donatello

Donnie wished he could act surprised when you finally told him

he really wanted to, it would've made you feel better for sure

but he sucked at lying and he didn't want to make you feel like he thought you were an idiot

because that was so far from the truth

after going through extensive research on Mikey's behalf when he suspected he had ADHD Donnie had stumbled across many different websites that discussed the symptoms and overlaps between both disorders

to make a long story short, Donnie knew that you had ASD and he was waiting for you to tell him

it would probably come off as rude if he brought it up in conversation right?

he didn't want to risk it

but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on you and your behaviors

he was a man of science, of course he was going to analyze you

not in a weird way or anything, just as a curious sort of precaution

but the longer you were involved in the turtle's lives the more noticeable your stims and meltdowns got, Donnie did his best to cover for you without making you suspicious of him

eventually he'd come up with something that he hoped would come across as a friendly gesture and wouldn't set you off or scare you away

it was game night at the lair and you, as always, were perched on the arm of the sofa, a large grin plastered on your face

inside your head was exploding but you were masking it pretty well if you do say so yourself

but Donnie was, well... donnie was donnie

so when he noticed you starting to rock a little more visibly he removed his attention from commentating the game and grabbed a pair of headphones from the side table

you were beyond confused when he passed them to you but your face revealed everything

"They're noise cancelling, try them on."

holy shit it was like putting your head underwater, everything was muffled

not in the way normal headphones did, you quite literally couldn't hear anything at all, just a calm amount of nothing

you nearly started crying when you realized that Donnie had figured you out on his own

but you'd never been more relieved about anything in your life

Raphael

he wouldn't admit that he was mesmerized by your presence

you practically radiated calm

his complete opposite

it was his favorite thing about you, because despite your quiet disposition and calming aura you weren't afraid to call him out or rebut any of his insults

this was not something you expected him to appreciate nor was it something you thought would make you catch feelings

but damn if you didn't

he'd been sitting in on yours and Donnie's little experiment for an hour or so now, watching you both exchange quiet whispers and inside jokes that you always seemed to lag on

then you slipped up

not bad, nothing detrimental to the project, just the same mistake that you'd already made ten times over

you might as well have exploded

"Y'N, you just have to move thi-"

"I KNOW DONATELLO. I FUCKING KNOW AND I JUST CAN'T DO THIS BULLSHIT!"

you set everything down gently enough to avoid breaking it before turning and storming out of the lab, waving your hands like they were on fire

Raph and Donnie exchanged a look that sent the larger red turtle following after you

when you calmed yourself down enough to talk you kept your gaze locked on the wall, explaining that you couldn't make eye contact when you were upset

he might not be the smartest brother, but Raph's no dummy, he put those pieces together pretty quickly after you told him that one small detail

he wasn't upset that you didn't tell him and you'd personally never been more relieved

your heart nearly splattered into the stratosphere when you finally gace him your own explanation

"yeah, I like ya too."

you grinned so wide you were sure your face would split open and your entire body rocked side to side with excitement

he thought that was pretty adorable too

And he did stick around to offer a bit of support when you apologized to Donnie for screaming at him

Michaelangelo

to be frank it probably shouldn't have taken so long for Mikey to realize that you were autistic

the similarities between your own personality and his ADHD were so in sight it was near painful

it was his turn to make dinner that night and you'd made sure that you came over early to help him set up, you knew how side-tracked he'd get and you were the poster child for solid routine

what more perfect matchup existed?

trick question, there isn't one

you were on one side of the counter cutting vegetables and he was on the other throwing said vegetables into the mixing pot

the music was at an ungodly level of loud so your only means of communication were screaming over it

"MIKEY."

"WHA?"

"YOU GOT THE-"

"YEAH."

"AND THE-"

"UH HUH."

"COOL, HAVE YOU SEEN THE-"

"TONGS? NO, THE SKEWERS. YEAH, THEY'RE IN THE OTHER DRAWER."

"THANKS."

the two of you went about your previous tasks, thinking nothing of the conversation that had just taken place

at least until you'd begun washing your knife and cutting board

that's when Casey walked in, looking both perturbed and annoyed at the same time

"Alright, which one of you knows telepathy?"

Mikey exchanged a glance with you and you returned it with a raised eyebrow

"The hell you mean brah?"

he looked at the both of you like you were the ones that had grown four extra heads before speaking again

"You literally just had a conversation with like five words and somehow just knew what the other meant? What's up with that?"

you glanced at Mikey again

"Holy shit, did we?"

"I mean, not really. You used your hands."

now all three of you were confused but it quickly became two when Casey shook his head in defeat and left the room

"You know I think he's right."

he blinked first and your staring contest ended

"But you used your hands-"

"I got autism Mikey, one does not simply not use their hands as forms of speech."

"You're-"

"Yep."

was the silence laughing at you? could it do that? it was kinda rude

"Huh, that actually makes sense, that's not mean is it?"

you shook your head no

"You're just me but fast."

Mikey agreed with that, pestered you with a few more questions, and went back about working, as did you, you saw no reason to address it further

but your cheeks burned red

"Yo- Y/N that actually explains why everyone else thinks we're a thing."

you didn't know if you could choke on air or not but you did it anyways

"Are we?"

he gave you his signature grin

"If we are then Raph owes April a hundred bucks."

you returned his smile

"Oh this oughta be good."

I'd like to preface this by apologizing for my near three week absence. Life got crazy and my writer's block hopped on a train, went through a school zone, killed seven pedestrians, and committed tax fraud before tumbling off a cliff never to be seen again.

But on the bright side- I got my SAT scores back and started some scholarship applications. Super happy with that. School's out in a few weeks so I'll be able to write more (hopefully).

Anyways, I hope I got this one down okay. I may have hyper analyzed the request so I might be a little off. But I really enjoyed doing this one and I hope you like it!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #askbox #ask response #writing requests #writing blog #writersblock #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016

[asexy-phoenix]

holes in my butterfly wings

Schitt's Creek fanfic about autistic!Alexis

Crossposted to Ao3

A/N: THERE IS NOT A SINGLE FIC ABOUT ALEXIS ROSE BEING AUTISTIC, WTF?!?!?

Anyway, I was re-watching Schitt's Creek season 2 and the bit where Alexis has to break up with Ted stuck with me for some reason. So here's roughly 700 words of autistic feels re: Alexis.

Title is from hope ur ok by olivia rodrigues

She needs to break up with Ted. Oh god she needs to break up with Ted. Or-or maybe Mutt? She can’t keep doing this, it’s piled up like a too-tall pile of old eyeshadow containers ready to fall over and now Mutt is looking at her and expecting something of her.

Alexis runs a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself down. “Well, ah, maybe I could just send him, like, the sweetest little text message,” she offers. It’s not what Mutt wants to hear, she knows, but it’s easier for her to communicate with people when she doesn’t have to look at them. When she can just write her message out and send it in a text bubble, safe and sound with no awkward eye contact or indecipherable body language.

“Alexis,” Mutt says in his serious voice. He tries to catch her eye as he explains exactly why she needs to break up with Ted.

Except she’s good at this, okay? Really good at making people feel like she’s looking them in the eye when in fact all she’s doing is bouncing her eyes from one point of contact on their face to another. She laughs again, aware she’s giggling too much but it’s too comforting for her to stop now. Plus, she’s just a little stressed right now so maybe she deserves to be allowed to stim just a bit. It’s not like she’s talking to Leo or somebody right now – it’s just Mutt.

“Okay, okay,” she agrees a moment later, fidgeting with her necklace. “I’ll go and-and tell him for real this time!”

“Okay,” Mutt agrees. He tries to go in for a kiss, but she turns her head just enough that he gets her cheek instead as he’s wishing her goodbye.

Alexis takes a deep breath as she sees Mutt out of the motel room. She waves perkily as he drives away, closes the door, sits on the edge of her bed, and only then does she let herself cry. She cries for Mutt and Ted and herself, for this mess she’s made of the three of them and the way it feels like nothing will ever feel normal again.

It isn’t like she really fit in before, she was always a “little much, Alexis, really,” as Moira would put it. With her laugh, and her “um’s” and “ah’s” and weird noises, and her careful avoidance of eye contact, Alexis has always been a little…off. Except, it had never come back to affect her before, not like this. Consequences had always been something that happened to other people, not to her. And it’s not like she isn’t a grown-up, she can take it on the chin, like her dad would say. It’s just that, for the first time in her life she had met two guys that were nice and genuine and (at least in Ted’s case) kind.

So, she had tried to relate to them in the way that worked for everyone else – giggled and flirted and stayed inside her carefully crafted box – and they’d gone for it. But apparently in this small town, where everyone says what’s on their mind and wears their heart on their sleeve, Alexis’ quirks reveal more than they hide, like bad foundation.

Taking one more shuddering breath, she stands up. If she’s going to do this, she’s going to do it in what makes her feel safe. Even if it makes her look weird and off-putting to the world of Schitt’s Creek, Alexis will feel protected behind the mask. So she carefully, one step at a time, removes her makeup and puts it back on. Ritualistically, she looks through her closet and chooses an outfit. A dress that will press against her skin in all the right places and none of the wrong ones, heels tall enough that she can walk on her toes and not look strange, a headband that puts enough pressure on her scalp to ground her without digging into her head.

“Okay,” she says to herself, applying a last layer of lip gloss in the mirror. “It’s showtime.” She puts the lid on the lip gloss, pastes on a smile, checks one last time in the mirror, and, with everything in place, walks out of the motel to ruin one of the first good things in her life.

#schitt's creek #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #alexis rose #autistic alexis rose #season 2

[ladyrynofsunnydale]

Bo-Katan Week Day 4/ Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: References to Major Character Death, References to Mild Drug Use

Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, Koska Reeves, Boba Fett, Din Djarin, Cara Dune, Moff Gideon (Star Wars), Fennec Shand (mentioned), Ursa Wren (mentioned), Sabine Wren (mentioned), Satine Kryze (mentioned)

Summary: Post-Mandalorian Season 2 Rescue. Bo-Katan isn’t quite sure today could have gone any worse. She had failed to enact her revenge, she was in pain, and honestly, she wanted all these aruetiis off her ship now. And if Din Djarin tried to get her to take the Darksaber one more time, she might just lose it.

Author’s Note: Happy Day 4 of Bo-Katan week! I think this counts as Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss? Anyways, I couldn't stop thinking about how Bo-Katan would have reacted to the finale of the Mandalorian Season 2 so I cranked this out. I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Tags: @bokatanweek 

Click on the link up top to read or continue reading below

Bo-Katan hissed when she settled into the chair in the light cruiser’s medbay. She’d walked there on her own just on sheer force of will and anger, but now that the adrenaline was leaving her body she was left aching and in pain. She wasn’t thirty anymore and she felt those blaster wounds far more than she used to. Could also be due to the fact that she no longer used battle stimulants. While she didn’t miss the not sleeping for days and jittery energy high that accompanied the stims, she did miss the absence of pain.

She pulled out her knife to cut into her flightsuit and barely kept herself from crying out as she pulled it out of the singed flesh on her left thigh. Gritting her teeth, she leaned into her anger to help her through the pain. Anger at allowing herself to be distracted by the Jedi carving a path through the dark troopers. Anger at allowing herself to be thrust back in time into long ago memories, memories of a simpler time when her greatest worry was that her sister was ruining Mandalorian culture while a host of Jedi led a grand petty war at the head of an army of clones. How different things could have been if her sister’s Jedi love had been able to save her. How different things may have been had the Jedi not fallen. Her distraction had allowed karking Gideon to get the jump on her. Again. Six shots, four pinging off her armor and two hitting their mark in her mid and upper left thigh. To compound that, one of the shots had hit her left shin guard and had hyper extended her knee. The pain made her whoozy and she leaned over, holding her still helmeted head in her hands, and willed the world to stop blacking out at the edges and for the contents of her stomach to stay where they were.

She had lost the Darksaber. Her one shot at proving to her people that she was worthy to lead them one more time. Proving to herself that she was worthy to lead them again. That saber had consumed her life for years. She’d accepted it once without winning it, and she couldn’t do that again. Maybe that is why she had lost everything. Why her people had lost everything. She still remembered holding Ursa’s body as she died. Ursa, her oldest friend and confidant. After that, she couldn’t look Sabine in the eye. Not until she had avenged Ursa and her people by taking revenge on Gideon and winning the Darksaber back. And karking Din Djarin had taken that from her.

She pulled out her blasters and fired continuously at a deactivated droid in the corner of the room until it was just a smoking hole in the wall then removed her helmet and launched it across the room, screaming her rage and pain. Standing she limped her way to a cabinet and violently yanked the doors open and riffled through the contents until she’d found cleaning solution, bacta, and an elastic bandage. She sat down again and cleaned the wounds before spreading the bacta on them, grinding her teeth together to work through the pain, then wrapped the elastic bandage around her aching knee to stabilize it. Once her task was accomplished, all her energy left her and she dropped her head back into her hands and stared at the floor. The Darksaber. Din Djarin. Gideon. Sabine. Ursa. Ahsoka. Satine. Fenn Rau. The Darksaber. Her mind spiraled and spiraled until there was a knock at the door. She looked up to see Koska. And Boba Fett. The clone.

“Come to gloat?” she snapped out.

“Thought about it, Princess. But I’m not one to kick someone when they’re down,” he answered.

“Since when?” she snorted. He shrugged. She couldn’t see his face with his helmet on and the voice modulator masked any emotion.

“When the mood strikes me. Here,” he said and tossed her a loaded stimulant gun. She caught it and clenched her teeth together.

“I don’t use these anymore.” Fett crossed his arms over his chest.

“You might want to consider it.”

“I’ll take the pain, thanks.” She tossed it back to him. He shrugged.

“Suit yourself. Fennec and I are leaving. Good luck on your fool’s errand of retaking Mandalore.” Bo ground her teeth together. Staring at Jango Fett’s clone in Mandalorian armor and hearing that voice so easily dismiss her home planet made her blood boil. That voice that she had owed so much to when they’d helped her reclaim Mandalore, and then the voice that had just as quickly turned on them to claim Mandalore for the Empire. She’d hated the clones. Hated that they were based off a Mandalorian’s DNA and had gone against everything a Mandalorian stood for. They had no honor. They had gunned down her people, adults and children alike, to force the planet into submission. Even Ursa had submitted.

However, she could use Fett and Fennec’s skills. They were both true and formidable warriors. But Fett didn’t believe in her cause, didn’t believe in her, and how could she blame him? She couldn’t even reclaim the Darksaber and was just shot by the man who’d taken it from her. And where Fett went, Fennec went.

“Try not to get yourself killed,” she snarked.

“You too, Princess,” he answered back, and she was surprised to hear a note of sincerity. He then turned and was gone. Koska leaned up against the doorframe and she could feel her eyes on her as she pushed herself up to standing and tested her left leg. It held. Thank the gods. She limped her way to her helmet and picked it up.

“You alright, boss?” Koska asked. Bo had known Koska since she was ten. Her Aunt had been one of her most loyal Nite Owls, and after watching her parents get gunned down by clones she’d enthusiastically volunteered when she’d come of age. She’d quickly become one of her most trusted people, especially as the commandos around her had dwindled, and she was happy to have her by her side now. And proud of the woman and warrior she had become.

“Just fine, Reeves.” She turned around and saw Koska staring at her. She softened just a bit. “I’m alright. Just not as young as I used to be.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Koska said, smirking, coming into step beside her while she limped out the door and back towards the command bridge.

She prepared herself to once again be among the remaining people there. Din Djarin, the New Republic drop trooper, and Gideon. As she’d suspected, Fett and Fennec were already gone, and the trooper was speaking with somebody on the comms.

“I want both of you off this ship,” Bo snapped, limping into the room. Everyone turned their eyes to her, and she could see Gideon once again smirking. The Darksaber was just lying there on one of the control consoles. Breathe, Bo-Katan, breathe, she told herself.

“The Republic will meet us…” the trooper said and Bo cut her off.

“I’m not rendezvousing with any New Republic fleet. You can take Gideon and the shuttle and get off my ship.”

“You didn’t take this ship all by yourself,” the trooper said, narrowing her eyes.

“Get. Off. My. Ship.” Bo stalked towards her and loosened her blasters in their holsters. She saw the dropper’s eyes flick to her repeating rifle then back to Bo, and Koska stepped up beside her. Their stare off was finally interrupted by a voice from the console.

“Dune? Dune, do you read me?” The trooper, Dune, broke her gaze and stared down at the console and pressed a button.

“I read you. Slight change of plan. Send me your coordinates and I’ll meet you with the prisoner.”

There was silence for a while, then finally a response.

“Protocol dictates…”

Bo limped over and slammed her hand down on the button.

“I don’t give a damn what protocol dictates. If you want Gideon alive and not a smoking corpse, you will transmit your coordinates to Trooper Dune so they can get the hell off my ship.”

Silence again.

“Who is this?”

“I am Bo-Katan of Mandalore. I am taking over command of this ship as recompense for what the Empire did to my people.”

They didn’t respond for a few minutes. She was sure they were looking her up, and she figured she knew what they’d find.

“Lady Kryze,” the voice came back, and she wasn’t surprised. “As former regent…”

“Transmit the fucking coordinates,” Bo-Katan interrupted.

Silence.

“Transmitting now,” the voice finally said. Dune downloaded the coordinates onto a disk.

“We’ll meet you there,” she said into the console and took a step back. “Well, it’s been a pleasure,” she said sarcastically and Bo ignored her and walked further into the bridge. “Din, what’s your plan?” Bo turned to see his response. He was just sitting there, where she’d left him however long ago, his helmet on the console beside him and his head in his hands, staring at the ground. As much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn’t. She pitied him. She knew it had not been easy for him to hear what she’d had to say on Trask. Having grown up in a cult herself, she knew how it took over your persona. Djarin had forsaken everything he’d known for the foundling, and then had lost him. Just like she’d lost Satine. And Ursa. And her planet.

Djarin looked up. His eyes were red, and he seemed to be unused to focusing on people with his bare eyes.

“I…” he started, his voice rough, and cleared his throat. He looked between Bo, Koska, and Dune, then stared straight at Bo, then to the Darksaber, then back. “Please take it,” he pleaded. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. He dropped his head and stared at the ground again, a defeated man. He took a shuddering breath then looked up again. “I’ll come with you, Bo-Katan.” She nodded then turned to Dune and raised her eyebrow. 

“Very well,” Dune sighed, and walked over to Djarin and he stood and they clasped arms. “Good luck. You know where to find me.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

Dune turned and pulled Gideon up and dragged him towards the door.

“Let’s go, asshole.”

And then they were gone. A short time later she heard the beep that signaled a ship leaving the hanger and she watched the shuttle move away then jump to hyperspace. Djarin finally broke the silence.

“What’s the plan now?”

Without turning around from the vast expanse of space, Bo answered.

“We take back our planet.”

#bo katan week #bo katan kryze #din djarin #koska reeves #cara dune #moff gideon #boba fett #darksaber #post rescue

[albino-whumpee]

I´ll stay where I belong

Had an idea while writing another WIP and it derailed. Sorry I don´t control what my brain does anymore, so here. For the @badthingshappenbingo​ my prompt was “Nervous breakdown” Also, for @whumptober2020​ day 2 and 3 “collars and manhandled” 

 Taglist:   @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker @boxboysandotherwhump @unicornscott

CW// Slavery, dehumanization, pet whump, conditioning, fucky headspace regarding self views, nightmares, implied hanging, manhandling, creepy comfort, a very blurry line between caretaking and whumping, implied ablism and negative views about stimming. Ask to tag and stay safe!

Albus was walking in the darkness of a place he hadn’t seen in his life, but knew like the back of his hand. He was dressed in white shorts and white shirt, just like his trainee uniform. Despite the usual lightness in his feet he could hear every step loud and clear, until he was suddenly sat in the middle of what looked like a library. Old books piled up on the ground all around the place. Stacked in shelves that reached the ceiling and beyond. He stared at the ground, where a compass was engraved on it, overlapping a constellation map.

Albus looked up when he heard the tingling bells of a jester hat. He blinked at the sight of a white jester with an annoying smile on its mask standing next to a wheel. He frowned. Turned his eyes at the engraved faces on each of the eight sides the red arrow could fall on.

They looked familiar.

“Sann..? And Ma’am?…what-“ he saw Tony and Sasha and Cloude, even Robert, but didn’t know who the other people were. Next to Sann and Jeremy, there was a little girl and an albino woman. On the other side next to Cloude, there was another unrecognized face.

To his surprise the jester spinned the wheel.

It fell on the albino woman. Then on the little girl. Then on all the others he knew. All the time giving him a pity glance and shaking his head. Irritatation was starting to set in, when at last, it fell on Sann.

Albus jumped at the pity head shake. Or tried to, but another jester shoved him back to his seat with a heavy hand on his shoulders. The other jester swinged a finger in front of his face and clicked his tongue like reprimanding a noisy kid.

“So unlucky. The wheel of fortune won’t spin on your favor” they said in a voice that sent shivers down his spine and felt wondering fingers crawling up. As if it could summon hands to touch the skin on his back “Albus” the boy took a shuddering breath “You may be lucky with how and not The Who”

In a puff, the wheel changed the faces for…punishments. Real punishments like at the facility. No, even worse. His breathing quickened when in another puff a version with a slightly blurry face of the girl appeared out of nowhere, followed by a white clown with red eyes.

“No…No, wait!” he whispered seeing the clown reaching towards the wheel. “No!” He yelled jumping up.

“That’s, right, No” the jester put his hands over his shoulders and slammed him down on the chair “Don’t move” he told him, voice suddenly way too deep. Albus whined in frustation. But a long finger passed over his mouth “hush, don’t speak. Do either and everyone will hit the jackpot!”

Albus eyes widened and his chest heaved in hurried breaths. His shoulders twisted to let a rope wrap his wrists together behind him. He wanted to cry out, having a bad feeling about the wheel and how the girl stared at it almost excitedly, but it was zipped tight. He could only let out muffled whimpers as he saw the wheel finally stop on the knot symbol.

He thrashed, but the jester manhandled him to keep him on the chair effortlessly. Almost enjoying seeing him struggle until he settled on letting him slam himself against the hard wood. He screamed when a foot held him thete. Twisting in the ground, he saw the clown getting out the rope, seeing it make funny shapes with it to the girl’s amused laughter.

Then blurry versions of every face came from the halls made of shelves. All eight of them had a white jester with one hand on their shoulder pushing them forward and the other on a rope. As if they were performing a dance, the clowns moved in perfect sync, pulled the tied up ropes on their necks, their faces smiling wide despite how tight they were on their necks.

Albus futile attempts to move or scream did nothing.

It was the sound of one final raspy stretch of the rope, one last tweak of a knot and a dry, cut short sound that woke him wide eyed.

He was sweating and holding his pillow tight. Too afraid to see the library, he didn’t uncurl his fingers off it until he saw Sann peacefully sleeping next to him. His broad back was there, but his own heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to run away from his chest to check itself. Even in the safety of his bed, feeling his loosened up collar around his neck and feeling Sann’s radiator body next to him, he felt unsafe. Watched from the shadows.

He let go of the pillow and straightened up to cup Sann’s face, searching for some awareness on the half open eyes, but he was in the fifth dream and very far from waking up. He was tired from having nightmares too and Albus would take the only chance he had had this last weeks from resting? No, no.

Albus let him go immediately then. Swung his feet over the bed and pressed his hands to his face. Trying to calm the thundering beating of his heart as his knee bounced shockingly fast. He heard Sann groan at the bed’s movement.

“Al?” The boy half signed in his sleep. The easy gesture of white was barely understandable in the dark.

“Shh, shh. It’s ok,” Albus said pulling the sheets to cover Sann up to his neck, tucking in his left arm below too “It’s fine, go back to sleep” he whispered to Sann’s little purr when he squeezed his shoulder slightly and stood up to walk to the door.

He was trembling on the hall for a while.

Hadn’t bothered taking his glasses, so he stood there in the middle of the house with shifty shadows that twisted into something more macabre. Sometimes he could swear he could see handler Harry in the corner, hear his voice threatening to cane his hands if he dared keep going with his annoying nervous rubbing and rounding thumbs.

Running from him and the shadows, he suddenly found himself curling next to Zarai’s bed. In the corner where night stand and mattress touched.

His cheeks flared up in shame. What was he? A kid who had a nightmare and had ran to his parents bed? He flinched hearing the slam of a cane against a gloved hand.

That’s not what a pet should do. You know better than that ‘900, c’mon. She’s your owner. You shouldn’t be a nuisance to your kind Master that lets you sleep on your own bed in your own room without making sure you stay there, now do you?

He shook his head to the voice’s pleased hum.

It’s almost like you want to be punished. So cute. Now-

“Albus?” The woman whispered right when he stood up, his cheeks burnt so much tears threatened to roll down. She stretched to light on the lamp on her nightstand, seeing at the click, a sweaty terrified boy kneeling next to her. “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Albus opened and closed his mouth many times, but nothing came out. How could he even explain? He almost jumped away blurting out all sort of apologies when he heard her sigh and set her hand over his head. It was almost instinctively that he leaned on it with closed eyes. When it slipped down his cheek, Albus Held her hand with both his own with a sniff.

“Come here” she said moving to Cloude’s side. The man was gone for the weekend for a business trip, so there was plenty of space for him to crawl up and pull his knees to his chest. Feeling Zarai’s hand brush his back up and down, slowly smothering down the violent trembling.

“I-I-I´m sorry, ma’am” he whispered with his face hidden between his arms. The hand stuttered, but continued brushing his back and settled on his head.

“Its ok” The motion was so constant and warm, he could believe she meant it. “What is it? Can you tell me?”

He weighted the possibility of being honest for a second, but decided against it at the last second. Switched to other matters.

“What happens when I stop being good enough for you ma’am?” he said despite himself, lifting his head to watch her reaction. Calm and collected was what Zarai always appeared to be. Even in the middle of the night with an anxious pet on her bed pleading for comfort, she would give this air of composure Albus could actually feel comforted with. She dragged a long breath in.

“We will see why and work it out so you can do better” she slowly set a hand on the back of his head, right where the scar was, then pulled him closer to her chest forcing his body to follow the motion into a hug.

“No…no punishments?” He stuttered looking up to read her.

“No punishments” she sighed out long.

He shifted on her arms, finding her unexpectedly warm and comfortable. He closed his eyes and tried to relax a second. The rhythm of her heart was so absorbing as well, he stayed quiet just to hear it a bit longer, but questions lingered in his mind, searching to be answered. It was odd timing and he was being so bold, yet he needed to hear it. He desperately needed that reassurance.

“You won’t send me back when I stop being useful to you?”

A long silence stood, that the longer it lasted, the more he was aware his owner could have him wrapped around her arms one night and the next he could be back under handler Harry’s baton.

Yet when he was about to let the tears welling on his eyes roll down, she grabbed his chin and made him look at her.

“We said no punishments, Albus” She said carefully “Not ever”

The albino boy couldn´t help but lean into her embrace. Worries fled his body so fast his body was left exhausted at the release of tension. She gently laid his head on her lap and he was almost sure he could sleep right there and then and the nightmare wouldn´t continue. He tried to do that.

Not ever sounded like such a long time. It had been voiced like an immutable law too, yet, laws had clauses.

When his mind was slipping back to a dream laid out on her lap like that, she spoke. Wrongly assuming he was already asleep.

“Until I decide when, you will walk behind me, right next to me, wasn´t it?” She said with intentions he couldn´t name, yet understood when her fingers brushed against his collar.

What was the feeling he felt while laid out on her lap while she gently brushed his hair? What was it indeed, what he felt when he stayed wrapped in her arms for a while, before he went back to sleep next to Sann? What would he reply to Sann’s worried face in the morning, when he asked him what was wrong, why was he crying? Why did he felt a warmth on his chest that couldn’t suit either anger nor adoration?

The taciturn look he would have on his eyes when the fog WRU Installed on his brain took over when he spoke again would reply for him.

That’s right. Who I belong to is safe. The handler’s voice…no. His own voice said inside his head.

“And I’ll stay where I belong”

#writing #whump #bbu #box boy #pet whump #you came back a stranger #tw slavery #tw dehumanization #albus #robert

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Please Don‘t See Me - Chapter 7

Ford was early to rise, intent on packing for a day of research in the forest. His journal and writing implements went into his backpack along with some mushrooms, in case he had to bribe any gnomes. Sample bags – for taking samples, obviously. Trail mix for Ford and jerky for Rebus. A pocket knife for cutting through any unwanted vegetation. A small case of tools in case any of his equipment needed recalibrating. The equipment itself; most notably, the old metal detector he had converted into a handheld mutation-scanner.

Well, technically it detected a currently-unknown element he’d found traces of in a mutated squirrel’s body, that he suspected was the cause of the mutation. Close enough.

Ford fiddled with the makeshift scanner, checking that it was in working order, before he aimed it at the freezer. After a brief hesitation the machine chirped.

“Yes!” Ford grinned excitedly. And then hesitated. “…perhaps there is a better place to keep specimens.”

Hmm.

Rebus shot him a look across the kitchen that seemed to say, ‘why yes, maybe you shouldn’t be keeping a mutated squirrel corpse in the same freezer you store food in’. Ford huffed.

“Well, for the moment it’s the only place I have where it can be properly preserved. Now come here, I want to test something.”

Rebus trotted forward and Ford lifted his scanner towards the wolf. The scanner remained unresponsive.

“…that’s odd.” Ford had been sure that the wolf’s eccentricities had been the result of the same mutation. If it wasn’t that…

It beeped. Ford studied his scanner curiously.

“The element’s presence is weaker in you than in the squirrel, but that could be due to the level of exposure, or perhaps the amount of time since the exposure. In any case, my hypothesis was correct! You must have come into contact with the source material somehow…” Rebus cocked his head inquisitively. “How should I know? That’s what today’s expedition is for. If it’s not the crystals I may try to retrace your steps before you came here.”

At the last moment Ford pulled on a thick coat to hide from the winter chill. It wasn’t yet snowing but the ground gleamed with frost. He shrugged on his backpack and, armed with his journal in hand, started the trek into the woods.

Rebus padded alongside him – Rebus went everywhere with him. Ford could hardly remember not having the massive, shaggy hound around. Who did he used to talk to while he worked? Himself?

…when he was younger, he used to talk to Stanley.

His brother rarely understood the content but he always listened intently while Ford rambled on about parabolas or string theory or whatever he was studying. Stanley had always seemed to know exactly what Ford needed. He gave his undivided attention even to subjects he found boring, just because Ford loved them. Their parents often thought Ford was annoying but Stan listened and it had been one of Ford’s favourite things to rush to him with whatever exciting new fact he’d learned so they could be excited together. When Ford had gotten self-conscious about stimming in public Stan would blow a raspberry, flap his hands and jump around until Ford couldn’t help but join in too, and he was having so much fun that didn’t much care anymore what others thought.

A bump against Ford’s side brought him back to the present and he stumbled, catching himself on the tree trunk Rebus had just stopped him from walking into face-first.

Ford gave his head a quick shake to clear it, irritated with himself. Why was he thinking about Stanley? He was in the process of making a scientific discovery! There were more important things to think about.

…if this truly was a previously-undiscovered element, would Ford get to name it?

The deeper they walked into the forest the more uneasy Ford’s travelling partner seemed to get. Rebus’s thick fur prickled and he pressed close to Ford’s side, casting wary glances at the forest around them. The anxiousness was infectious. Ford gripped his sensor tightly and rested one hand on the wolf’s back, taking comfort in the contact. Ford didn’t notice anything amiss, but canine senses were notoriously sharper than humans’. Perhaps the crystal formations grew in the territory of another predator; or, perhaps, the griffin flock from earlier had passed through this area. Whatever the reason Rebus remained on-edge through the majority of the hike.

Ford’s apprehension, however, was forgotten the moment the crystals came into view. He picked up his pace and hurried into their midst, chatting to Rebus as he did.

“Now, last time I was here I planned to measure the crystals’ growth, and I made a mark – ah, here! Hmm. They haven’t grown since I last checked, which was… four months ago. My, time does fly. I suppose I can disregard the theory that they have an accelerated growth rate. When we return to the house I must remember to investigate natural crystal formation. There’s still the possibility that their growth rate is slower than the norm!”

Rebus let out a curious-sounding rumble, wariness seemingly sidelined for the moment. It wasn’t a question, but Ford elaborated anyway.

“Ah, you see, investigating the conditions of their formation will allow me to deduce what other places they may exist in.” Ford glanced up at the sky, reassuring himself that the mildly overcast weather had not cleared up since he began this expedition. Fluctuating levels of sunlight would increase the chance of either Ford or Rebus getting caught in a stray size-altering beam.

Ford lifted his sensor and ran it carefully over the nearest crystal, which was a lovely blush colour. There was no reaction so he moved onto the next.

“Now, hopefully my scanner here will pick up traces of that mystery element. Considering it has been present in every creature I’ve known to be affected by the mutation, there is a high chance that it will be present in the source of the mutation.” Ford glanced over his shoulder at Rebus, who seemed torn between watching Ford curiously and glaring at the forest around them. “Hmm, perhaps your presence here might skew the results if you carry traces of it… then again, the element’s presence in you is quite weak, and… aha!”

The last part was a triumphant cry as his sensor beeped. The crystal it had landed on looked very much like its neighbours but for the tiny flecks of some sort of mineral deposit inside its translucent body, peppering the stream of sunlight focused through it with tiny shadows. The grass around this particular crystal grew thicker and more virulent than in the rest of the clearing. Perhaps…

Ford plucked the leaf from a nearby tree and experimentally dropped it into said beam of light. It plopped lightly to the ground and did not grow or shrink as expected. Instead, as he watched, the delicate veins began to swell and bulge.

Ford let out a rush of air. “The light. The minerals in the crystal must be distorting its natural size-altering properties! Don’t you see Rebus, this is most likely the source of the mutated creatures running around Gravity Falls.”

Rebus padded over leaned against Ford’s side, a steady presence. Ford whipped out his journal to start jotting down observations.

“But why only now… the crystal fragments in the grass suggest that one was damaged recently, perhaps a formation that prevented light reaching the deformed crystal. In the wake of its absence the deformed crystal has been exposed to light and thus will affect any creature that walks into its path!” He studied the swollen leaf. “Yes, that would explain the disproportionate physique of affected creatures; and I wonder if it influences their disposition as well, or if the ones I’ve come across were already predisposed to violence. Perhaps the latter, given that you seem to have been affected both physically and mentally and yet are non-aggressive towards humans.”

Rebus let out an offended huff.

“Don’t give me that look. The fact that you seem to have some understanding of what I’m saying to you at all suggests heightened intelligence that I suspect came from this very source.” Ford nodded to himself. “Yes, yes… I’ll definitely have to run some experiments on this. Perhaps I can isolate and identify the mystery mineral. It will be a good excuse to test my new Mass Spectrometer!”

Ford (very carefully) scraped off several samples of the crystal. Drilling into it to extract a fleck of mystery mineral took quite some time. He frowned to himself as he guided a pair of tweezers into the narrow hole, trying to extract one while causing minimal damage to the crystal. Fiddly work indeed. He was glad he’d packed a small hand drill and a facial mask, to avoid breathing in any of the dust.

Rebus let out a distressed whine from behind him.

“Yes, yes, I know. We’ll leave in a second, I just need to collect this sample.” Ford carefully lifted the glinting fleck and dropped it into a plastic bag, quickly folding it up and securing it into his pack to avoid any light shining onto it. He had enough oddities already, thank you very much. He wasn’t looking to be mutated on top of that.

Ford packed up his equipment and shrugged on his pack with a wide grin. Rebus shook himself and padded over to join him as Ford began the walk back. Ford’s mind raced as he walked. With these samples he should be able to run tests and deduce the exact nature of its effect on organic tissue. Hopefully he would be able to reverse-engineer its effects to cure affected creatures. Perhaps he should pull a tarp over the deformed crystal to prevent it from mutating anything else?

Ford was still deep in thought when they broke the thick tree cover and headed through a more sparse area of vegetation. Rebus growling was his first clue that they weren’t alone. His second clue was something growling back.

Ford froze as a low, aggressive huffing filled the air. He turned slowly, shoulders hunched, to catch a glimpse of a big body across the clearing. Big, covered in patchy, shaggy brown fur, disproportionate as it gathered up its huge mass to stomp and woof angrily at the growling wolf. The Rebus of bears, as it was. The hairs on the back of Ford’s neck prickled.

…ah. So that was the reason for Rebus’s wariness.

Ford took a slow step backwards and the bear stomped and whuffed, peeling back its lips to display yellowish teeth. Rebus’s rumbling growl got a little louder. Ford tried to think. Why would a wild bear attack them? Maybe there were cubs nearby, or simply they’d wandered too close into its territory and it felt threatened. Their best bet was to back away slowly, appear small as they edged out of its territory-

Rebus sprang forward.

“No!” Ford yelped but the wolf was already charging for the creature’s throat. The bear hunched its shoulders to protect its vulnerable neck and its teeth snapped shut just shy of Rebus’s leg. The wolf yelped and the bear swung one massive paw and sent him skidding.

Ford yelled, which, in hindsight, may have been a mistake, because the now-enraged bear charged towards him.

#werewolf stan au #werewolf!stan #gravity falls #fic #my writing #chapter 7

[r6s-imagines]

hello!! could i get some doc/lion angst (like doc dying or something?) pretty please? you will have snatched my heart entirely

doc x lion was my first ship yes pls

side note: i was not around when the outbreak event was out, so i’ll be using what i know from cutscenes/op notes and create my own little mission & details.

•••

doc x lion >> what if?

•••

MASTERLIST

warnings: cursing, gore, angst

•••

summary: the ghost of lion’s mistakes still carry a heavy weight on his shoulders

•••

if he was just there.

at first, olivier was displeased with his newfound partner in the outbreak considering their clashing personalities.

it started when the two collided on site.

“haven’t you anything useful to do?” the darker man spat, a hand on the blond’s chest. “i’m working.”

“as am i,” olivier retorted, face neutral. “yet your presence seems to halt my progression.”

what if he hadn’t spoken back that day?

“progression? you charge in with your little drone and endanger everyone,” doc spat. “take your time, flament. maybe then you wouldn’t get in my way.” with a final shove in the shoulder, they parted ways, attempting whatever possible to save citizens from the virus. sure enough, lion froze, licking his teeth with a smile.

“it’s gonna be a long fucking operation,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. despite the disagreements, something came over flament, giving him a strong desire to spit on gustave’s grave.

what if he dropped out of the mission, then and there?

that exact moment approached olivier with open arms, much to his bittersweet delight. the situation was tight, with gustave on the ground hanging on by a thread. the bomb was planted, strong enough to kill whatever shouldn’t be alive. all they had to do was secure the point and ensure it will detonate. doc’s life was on its last moments, and the only available operator was flament. he sprinted over and leaned down, ready to fix whatever needed fixing.

“i’ve got you, mon amie,” lion insisted, grabbing the doctor’s hand. surprisingly, kateb pulled his arm away, wincing.

“non!” he cried, struggling. “je peux le faire!” he tried his damnest to reach for him stim, but was too weak in the position he was in.

“you fool,” lion chuckled uneasily, firmly holding his hand once again. “don’t be ridiculous.” against his wishes, olivier hoisted gustave up, providing him cover to stim himself. his tired eyes were once again filled with life and he sprang into action, taking down anything in his path while watching for his teammates.

“take your time, kateb!” he mocked, grinning through his mask. even through the doctor’s balaclava, he could sense the frown, making him smile even more.

what if he didn’t help him?

their interactions became more frequent, to their delight or displeasure.

lion would never admit it, of course, but watching doc’s dissatisfaction with his performance only drew olivier to impress him more, sometimes out of the job. while their views may contrast, there was something to intriguing about the french men being together. ash brought it up to gustave once, rendering him a red and stuttering mess.

“maybe you’re just flustered around him,” she joked. “you lose concentration.”

“perish the thought!” he replied, trying his hardest to sound disgusted. almost everyone could see through his façade, though, and lion was always lurking during doc’s confrontations, hoping one day he’ll outright admit his crush.

“unresolved animosity?” lion scoffed, feet up on the desk and he recalls a psychological analysis. “more so sexual tension.” the darker frenchman stopped his typing to stare.

“sexual tension?” doc repeated, eyes meeting the blond. “you want to have sex with me…?” it was a rhetorical question. his tone was flat, eyebrow raised, causing lion to let out a loud laugh.

“if you’re offering,” he teased, sitting straight, unlike his sexuality. “when are you available?”

“we’re professionals, and we need to maintain that,” doc concluded, hiding his mouth with his hand. “the feeling is not mutual.”

“bull~” lion hummed quietly, finally turning to attend to his own gadgets.

what if he kept his flirting to himself?

last came the catalyst to disaster.

the outbreak was just about contained and exterminated, all that was left was to administer an airborne immunity. all the team had to do was monitor the airlift and ensure it wasn’t knocked from the sky. their seats were beside each other, and when one was staring, the other was unaware, or so doc thought.

“have i something in my teeth?” lion teased, running a hand across his chin. “or am i just that pretty?”

“you’re an enigma,” doc replied, face pink. “so full of yourself.”

“nonsense,” olivier quipped. “our relationship is strictly professional, according to you.”

“right…”

a loud crash interrupted the conversation, shaking the helicopter and nearly sending everyone’s gear out the side.

“we’ve got a problem,” jäger announced, strained. “dropped one of the canisters.”

“someone’s going to have to retrieve it manually,” doc observed. “i can do it.”

“no!” lion protested, putting a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “i’ve seen you on the field alone, you’re a support.”

“what of it?”

“i can do it,” lion begged. “i’ve got the equipment, nothing can sneak up on me!”

“i’m more than just a doctor,” gustave fought back. “we can’t go together, someone’s gotta help lift the canister into the helicopter. i can bring myself back up if i come down. please.”

lion tried to read doc’s eyes, which were darting between his. his pleading gaze hit a soft spot in his heart, and he sighed.

“don’t get yourself killed out there.”

what if he volunteered to go anyway?

“merci,” gustave concluded, ready to jump from the copter. as jäger lowered to the ground, doc took a deep breath and hoisted himself onto the ground, weapon by his side. lion watched him walk into the hazy red air, snarling in the distance.

“he’ll be okay,” marius reassured, looking back to the worried blond. “doc sticks to his word, he’ll be back.”

one minute.

two.

three.

ten minutes.

“something’s wrong,” olivier nervously stated, looking down to the ground. “let me down.”

“no can do,” marius replied. “just give him time, we never saw where the canister landed.”

“if you’re not going to let me down, then give me a damn parachute!” his throat tightened as he desperately pleaded. the pilot groaned, finally lowering the vehicle enough for lion to hop out.

“if it gets bad…” streicher began. “use the flare. i’ll be over as soon as i can.”

as his boots made contact with the floor, an overwhelming sickening feeling brewed in his stomach. it was too quiet, and not a single gunshot rang out from the time his friend left.

“kateb?” he called out, watching his step. his cry echoed into the air, making him feel sicker than before.the echo of his footsteps over the bodies was unnerving, and finally, he kicked something that had still been moving.

“gustave?”

sure enough, beside his foot, was the man he’d grown to adore. his armor was ripped to shreds and any skin exposed was pouring out blood. disregarding the flare or any other precautions, lion dropped everything and knelt to doc’s side.his breathing was thin, almost inaudible unless he was against his face. tears pricked at his eyes as he watched doc’s dark irises lose the energy they once had. the situation was dangerous, sure, but time seemed to stop once olivier knew the extent of the damage.

“you’ll be okay,” he begged, trying to find a decent spot to lift gustave up. every attempt left him in a groaning, painful mess, yet olivier denied any type of inevitable consequence. “stay with me, please.”

doc laughed, sending a splatter of blood from his throat.

“where does it hurt the most?” lion asked, tears already slipping down his cheeks. “tell me what to do, i–i’m not a medic.”

weakly, doc responded with a gesture, moving a hand to his stomach, which seemed totally split open. there’s no coming back from that.

“you can come back from that,” lion exhaled with a panicked smile. “you come back from anything!” doc shook his head. olivier finally gave in to lifting up the doctor and placed his hands on his cheeks, wiping the blood from around his jaw.

what if he could save him?

gustave’s eyes continued to move despite the absence of breathing for a few moments, and lion placed his ear on doc’s chest to hear his heart slow to a stop. no matter how hard he pressed against him, the heartbeat was now entirely gone, just as his face paled and movements stopped.

flament reached for the flare gun he discarded and shot once into the air, now hearing an approaching helicopter above.as the wind from the blades weaved through their hair, lion now had gustave cradled in his grasp, his body heavier than it was when he was alive. marius sprinted from the vehicle and joined his partner’s side, removing his helmet and staring on in shock.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. lion never once looked up, instead studying doc’s still features. tears landed onto his pale cheeks, slipping down without a single muscle reaction.

“what if i was there for him?”

“there’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“but what if i was there for him?” lion repeated, voice filled with venom.

“why couldn’t it have been me?”

#doclion #doc x lion #r6s doc #r6s lion #plague writes #rainbow six siege #r6s #siege #r6s imagine

[elizabethemerald]

While he was in the Darklands (Part 1)

Claire biked along with Toby home from school. The beautiful weather was dampened in her mind. Jim was in the Darklands. Alone. He had left her and Toby behind and gone after her brother by himself. She wanted nothing more than to bike home and focus on her homework. 

“Come one Claire!” Toby said, just a little behind her on his own bike. “I need your help if I’m going to keep pretending to be Jim!”

“TP, you are his best friend. You’ve known him for years! how do you not know how he acts or talks?”

“Yeah I know how to mimic him. I can echo the way he talks and sometimes the way he moves. But any time his mom says something I’m not expecting I completely lose his character. She’s going to catch on soon if I keep messing up. You’re a Shakespearian actress! You can help cover when I mess up.”

“Ok, ok. Yes I’ll help you. Of course I’ll help, we have to support each other.” Claire sighed deeply as she ignored the street that lead to her house, instead pedaling on towards the cult-de-sac where Jim and Toby lived. “My parents are going to kill me when they find out I’m at Jim’s house after school.”

Toby snorted behind her. “Yeah and what do you think Dr. L will do if she finds out her son is the Trollhunter? Or that he’s alone in the Darklands?”

Claire didn’t answer. She could imagine how Jim’s mom would react. But she didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think about Jim being alone, or that he was risking his life for her brother, or what he could be going through without her, or…

She shook her head and pedaled faster. Behind her Toby fell behind a little before he caught up. Jim had been in the Darklands for almost a week already and she had no idea how much longer she would have to continue to not think about him. She didn’t not how much longer she could not think about him. 

They dropped their bikes off in front of the the Lake house. Toby had taken to riding Jim’s bike to and from school because his mom asked about it if she saw it was still there when she got home. Once Toby unlocked the front door, making sure to lock it again once they were inside, Claire set her bag down in the living room. She fiddled for a moment then decided while she was here she might as well get some studying done. Just because she was a Trollhunter now didn’t mean her parents didn’t still expect her to bring home her straight A’s. 

“God this mask smells awful. But it’s what we have to do.”

Toby sighed loudly, then put on the mask. Claire took a deep breath as Toby disappeared and was replaced by Jim. This was part of why she hadn’t wanted to come over here today. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help Toby with their deception and she didn’t really care that her parents didn’t like her boyfriend. Seeing Jim there however, seeing him here what could almost be real life, safe, out of danger. It tore at her heart. 

She quickly looked down at her text book. As long as she kept not thinking about Jim she would be ok. She felt the burning of unshed tears but quickly blinked them away. 

Toby moved into the kitchen and despite herself Claire turned to watch him. They had both agreed that Toby knew Jim best and would have the easiest time mimicking his movements and speech patterns. Toby’s echolatia allowed him to perfectly copy Jim’s voice and cadence as well as some of the way his body moved, but he had mentioned repeatedly that he struggled applying those traits to new situations. 

Claire felt at this time she probably knew the ways Toby didn’t move like Jim better than the ways her boyfriend did move. The way Toby would reach for something and juggle it, versus the way Jim would grab an object and spin and twirl it in his hand. The little bounce Toby would take every few steps. Sometimes when he thought no one was looking he would flap his hands around. Jim had different stims. 

As she watched Toby move about the kitchen preparing a quick snack, she felt a small smile play across her lips. Almost immediately she wiped the smile off her face. What she doing her smiling? Her brother was kidnapped because she wasn’t paying enough attention to him and Jim was some where in the Darklands facing who knows what dangers. What did she have to smile about? She was distracted from her guilt by the sound of a car arriving. 

“Jim!” Claire called into the kitchen. Toby immediately stepped out turning this way and that. 

“Jim? Where is he?” Toby said. Claire opened her eyes wider and nodded towards the front door where Dr Lake was putting her key into the lock. Toby’s shoulder’s drooped, but he braced himself and put on his best Jim Lake impression in time for Dr Lake to open the door and see him. 

“Hey mom! How was your shift?” Toby was able to perfectly echo Jim’s tone and cadence, for that phrase at least. Dr Lake set her things down inside the door and locked it behind her. Her hair was coming out of its bun in places and she looked tired. 

“Long.” She sighed briefly, then caught sight of Claire. “But not bad. And who might you be?”

Claire could see Toby stumble a little in her periphery. They both knew she had already met Barbara Lake. Jim had, had her over several times while Angor Rot was loose in Arcadia. It had been easier for all of them way. Jim could ensure that all the people he cared about were safe and that Strickler didn’t get up to any nonsense with his mom. For Claire it served to get her away from her parents and away from NotEnrique. She had a hard time being around the changeling who had replaced her brother. 

Toby stumbled a little over his tongue. This was exactly the sort of situation he wasn’t prepared for. Having to reintroduce his best friend’s girlfriend to that friend’s mother while pretending to be that friend. Barbara had a wide smile on her face, but it faltered as “Jim” hesitated. 

Claire hopped up from the couch. She realized this was the first time she had come over to the Lake House since Dr Lake had lost her memories.  She put her most winning smile on her face, the one she normally reserved for when her own mom was introducing her to other city council members or potential voters. She extended a hand to Dr Lake. 

“My name is Claire, Claire Nuñez.” Dr Lake took her hand as recognition dawned on her face. 

“Oh yes Claire! You were Juliet in the play right?”

Claire’s own smile faltered. The play? Romeo and Juliet had been months ago. Before the winter break. Way before Jim had entered the Darklands. Claire had only just found about trolls a few hours before it, when Jim had dragged her into the woods to save her from goblins. Dr Lake’s face showed her growing confusion. 

“Are...are you two rehersing? For another play?” 

Claire felt tears immediately bite at the corners of her eyes. Losing her memory had taken more from her than any of them had realized. And now she might lost Jim without ever knowing why, or what he meant to Claire. 

“We’ve been dating for two months!” Claire said before she could stop herself. She knew her voice sounded more snappish than she had meant. She tried to hide her growing tears, desperate not to cry in front of Jim’s mom. How was she supposed to explain all this to her?

An arm across her shoulders brought her world back into focus. To Dr Lake it looked her son throwing his arm over his girlfriend’s shoulders. Claire knew the truth. This was all Toby. She knew he wasn’t holding her like Jim did. He was holding her like Toby did. She could fill warmth and comfort flowing out of him as he took Dr Lake’s attention away from her. 

“Sorry I must have forgotten to tell you mom. After playing Romeo and Juliet together I knew we were meant to be.” Toby said and turned to give Claire a love sick look. 

Claire had to stifle a giggle. This look was such a perfect combination of Jim and Toby. They both had the exact loving look. It was exactly what made Jim stand out to her during his audition. The same thing that drew him to her when they had danced together at the bluff. She smiled at the boy in front of her, her heart beating almost out of her chest. 

Toby started to turn back to face Jim’s mom, but before he could she pressed her lips to his. She could feel the wooden mask in between them, she could see the surprise on his face turn to happiness, she could hear the whisper of his breath against her. She pulled away with a smile. 

Dr Lake still looked confused, like she was still trying to clear the fog away from her mind. But she still smiled broadly at Claire and Toby. 

“Well it’s great to meet you Claire. Now, Kiddo I’m going up to take a shower.” 

Dr Lake walked away. Claire could see her face still looked troubled as she ascended the stairs. At least she didn’t suspect them of anything. Toby kept his arm around her shoulders till he heard the water turn on upstairs. Then he stepped back and clapped her on the shoulder. 

“Great thinking with that kiss. Perfectly convinced her of our cover!” He smiled and turned back to face her. “You really...Claire are you ok?”

Claire felt a few tears roll slowly down her cheeks. He brother was kidnapped. Her boyfriend was trapped some where in the Darklands. His mother was confused and suffering. All she was had was Toby. She reached up to his face and pulled the mask off him. 

Toby gasped as the glamour dropped with a shimmer. Her brother was kidnapped. Claire leaned forward her eyes flicking to his lips. Her boyfriend was trapped somewhere in the Darklands. She closed her eyes and tilted her head. His mother was confused and suffering. She stepped back, her hand flying to cover her mouth to stop a sob escaping. Jim could die any day, and she had never kissed him. 

Claire turned and ran. She grabbed her bag and dashed for the front door. She was on her bike pedaling as fast as she could before Toby could even react. 

“Claire wait!” She heard him yell from behind her. 

She threw a portal in front of her a shadow jumped to her house. She threw her bike down and ran inside. Claire ignored her mother’s concerned shout, instead running into her room and throwing herself face down on her bed. She desperately used the pillow to muffle her sobs. What was she going to do?

#claire nunez #toby domzalski #jim lake junior #Barbara Lake #Trollhunters #tales of arcadia #jlaireby #hammer sword and staff #while he was in the darklands #I was hit by a sudden inspiration #I couldn't resist writing some jlaireby #i love these kids so much

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Kindness; Part Eight

Fandom: Fallout (3)

Pairing: Female Lone Wanderer/Charon

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Four more!

“You get the hell away from my friend!”

  Charon's eyes rolled open and instantly shut again. The light was so bright, his stomach too queasy to handle how the room was spinning. His ears picked up an all-too-familiar cry of pain, the sound of liquid splattering on the floor. There was a breathless gasp and something heavy hit the ground. Another yelp of pain, lower this time. The sick, dragging noise of a bone saw punching through someone's side.

  Charon felt consciousness begin to fade again and he was ashamed at how quickly he submitted to its dark caress.

  Pain. The pain was almost intolerable. The headache was finally gone but everything else seemed to hurt in an effort to compensate. A voice. There was a voice. It was her. Spoon. Come to him in his delirium, his fever-dream. She was wearing a simple white pre-war dress, her hair curling in cascades down her back.

  “I hope you're alright. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here.” She said softly, a gentle hand touching his face.

  Charon shook his head dazedly, moving through the pain to catch her hand before she pulled it away.

  “I...I won't do it again. I promise. I can't let you get hurt again.” She whispered to him, her eyes full of tears. “You mean too much to me. I can't let you get hurt anymore. You're always there for me, and the one time I could have been, I fucked it all up. I'm...I'm so sorry.” She began to fade, her hand disappearing from his...

  Charon blinked several times, then groaned as he realized he was still bound in the room. Someone was moving around, outside of his field of vision. But he didn't have the strength to turn his head and see what they were doing. So he stayed put. He felt the restraints loosen around his arms, though, and that got his attention. He shifted, alerting the person to the fact that he was awake.

  “Charon!” Spoon's hands were bloody, her nose was crooked and her right eye was going to have one hell of a shiner, but Charon couldn't have cared less if he wanted to. Right then, she looked fantastic.

  “Smoothskin...you're alive.” He breathed. The relief that flooded Charon surprised him. Spoon grinned back at him, her own relief palpable.

  The next second, he was freed from the restraints. Spoon wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her and seeming to partially cradle him while he waited for the feeling to come back to his fingers. Charon was too tired and sore to protest being coddled like a child. He just buried his face in Spoon's shoulder and luxuriated in the texture of the soft skin on her neck against his cheek. Spoon gently rocked him back and forth, one hand tentatively rubbing circles on the giant ghoul's raw back.

  “I'm...I'm so glad.” She whispered. Charon felt something hot and wet drop onto his face. “I thought they killed you. I thought I failed you.”

  Charon chuckled dazedly. “You cryin' for me, smoothskin? No one's ever cried for me before. Don't you start now. I thought you were dead too, y'know. I thought...” Charon trailed off as he remembered how hollow he had felt when he thought Spoon was gone for good. It hadn't been a good feeling. Certainly not what he was used to feeling when an employer died. “...I don't know what I thought.” The ghoul said instead. “But you've never failed me, Spoon. If anything, I failed you.”

  Spoon made a shushing sound, her hold tightening on him. “Jesus Christ, you're essentially my only friend out here. I can't lose you, Charon.” The following laugh shook a little. “You and Wads are all I have. No one else knows who or what I am. No one else has ever been there to fight for me, to distract raiders from me. No one-” Spoon stopped abruptly.

  Charon felt her throat work against his cheek, and he gave a long, rumbling sigh. “Smoothskin...I-”

  “I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said, I-I mean I--” Spoon stammered, seeming like she was about to pull away.

  Charon grumbled again, effectively silencing her stutters. “I thought you were a goner smo--Spoon. I thought my next step was seeing which one of these filthy pricks had picked up your contract. I thought I was going to have to work under the shit that murdered you.” Charon was surprised when his throat started to feel tight and odd. Your contract. Yours. The words came slower now. “You're so much stronger than you think you are, Spoon. You don't need me. You confuse me. You treat me like an equal, spoil me half to death with killing and Stims and food.” Charon shook his head as best as he could, mostly just rocking it against Spoon's neck. “I just...I know for a fact I don't deserve to be treated even as a human, after some of the things I've done. Spoon I oughta' be killed a hundred times over for what I've done.” Charon mumbled, his words slurring a bit with exhaustion.

  Spoon placed a reassuring hand on his cheek, and Charon was embarrassed to find himself leaning into the touch. She started emptying her pockets, pulling six or seven Stims out to the ghoul's wry amusement. “Lemme' give you these. Then, you get me back to Megaton where I can get to my supplies, and possibly have Church hammer my nose back into place.”

  “Good thing I finished that rad water, huh?” Charon commented, getting a clogged chuckle out of the scavenger.

  “Fuck you. I'll pour my vodka into your open wounds.” Spoon threatened, her crooked grin diffusing her words admirably as she started to treat his injuries.

    The trip back to Megaton was somewhat slower, what with Spoon taking breaks to fuss over Charon. The ghoul didn't particularly seem to mind though. If Spoon wanted to fool herself, she might have thought that Charon looked at her more. And that his eyes seemed more peaceful when he did.

  If Spoon had wanted to fool herself, she might have heard the concern in his voice when she had to curl in on herself with pain after trying to re-set her nose singlehandedly. She might have seen his wince when she rolled her pants up to examine her shattered knee.

  If Spoon had wanted to fool herself, she might have done a lot of things.

    Charon paced back and forth in front of the door to Doc Church's clinic.

  Why the hell do I care so much? She'll be fine. She's going to be okay. Why the fuck am I so worried? Charon thought furiously, forcing himself to sit down on the edge of the porch and take some deep breaths. His hands clenched and unclenched restlessly on his knees, mind wandering to how bad Spoon had looked when they finally got to Megaton...

  “No, I don't need you to carry me. I'm okay...honest!” Spoon had insisted, her smile looking more like a grimace stretched across her bruised face.

  Charon sighed heavily. “We're still at least half an hour away. Please just let me help you, Mistress.”

  “I'm telling you, I'm fi--!” Charon wrapped one arm around Spoon's shoulders and tucked the other carefully under her knees, sweeping her up in the blink of an eye.

  “What was that Mistress? I couldn't hear you.” The ghoul had quipped as Spoon tensed against him.

  She glared up at him tiredly. “You're a real bitch, you know that?”

  “Been called much worse than that, smoothskin. Just relax and enjoy the ride. You're badly injured, and it's all because of me.” Charon had schooled his face into an impassive mask. “Let me help you.”

  Spoon had settled against Charon's chest, groaning. Charon risked a glance down after a few moments. She was sound asleep, crooked nose casting an odd shadow in the moonlight playing over her pain-pale face.

  The Charon then had tightened his grip. “I'm not going to let you fall.”

  The Charon sitting on Doc Church's doorstep snarled at himself for being such a sentimental jackass.

    “Alright you little shit, that should keep you coherent for a few days.” Church grumbled, wiping his hands on an old rag. Spoon offered him a wan smile, her exhaustion getting the best of her as she tried to stand. “Whoa now, you little vagabond. Just pay me and I'll call your king-sized shuffler to sweep you off your feet again.” Church said, tapping the jar next to his examination table and moving to the door. “Hey! Get up, you slug. He's fine, just in no shape to walk.”

  Charon's massive form darkened the doorway, and Spoon started digging in her pockets. “Doc, I can't thank you enough-”

  “Damn right you can't. Now just pay me and get out.” The old doctor said gruffly. Spoon dropped two handfuls of caps into the jar, making Church's eyes widen. “Listen here, you, I'll have no charity in my clinic! Pay me what you owe, and not a cap over.” He sputtered. Charon scooped Spoon up, the drained scavenger noticing how dark his eyes were. Like the ghoul was far away, gnawing on something in his mind.

  Spoon caught Church's hand before Charon could carry her out the door. “It's not charity. It's an apology. I know I haven't been scavving nearly as many meds as I used to before. I'm sorry. Stuff's getting harder and harder to come by, y'know Church? But hopefully with that, it'll give you an edge when you have to bargain with the traders.” She explained.

  Church's eyes softened. “Ah, get the hell out of here y' grifter.” He grunted good-naturedly, dropping her hand and waving her off. Charon didn't wait for further confirmation, almost running out the door.

    Failure.

  Charon slowly came around to awareness, gripping his shotgun tightly. He had fallen asleep again in Spoon's large chair, and now her house was being overrun by raiders. They were everywhere, so many of them, missing ears and eyes and hands.

  Charon went to move, only to find that chains even stronger than before wrapped around his arms and legs. His shotgun had disappeared in his moment of distraction, and he was left weaponless. He struggled against the chains, flailing in a frenzy while the noise level around him grew with his efforts. Blood and spit flew from his mouth as he screamed at the raiders, their ceaseless gibbering mocking his every move.

  A fist slammed into his jaw from nowhere, effectively stilling the giant ghoul as his neck snapped painfully to the side. His left side lost all feeling in it while faces in the raider crowd began to change. Twisting, turning, bubbling skin gave way to decay and rot, raiders ghoulifying before his eyes.

  Charon knew some of those faces, knew some of those burning eyes, and his heart sank. In his time with Spoon, he had almost forgotten one of Ahzrukhal's favorite forms of entertainment. But here it was, right back with him, crawling up under his skin and deadening his limbs.

  Ahzrukhal was not above renting Charon out to get some quick caps, whether loaning him to a desperate ghoulette or passing him around a few fighting rings. But those were trivial troubles compared to what Charon was reliving right now.

  It started with the Med-X. Ahzrukhal would wait until Charon was ravenous with hunger, not letting him eat for days beforehand. The bartender knew damn well that his bouncer needed to eat, but it was just one more thing that he could hold over his head. As if the contract wasn't enough. Anyone who was caught slipping Charon food was punished with a swift beating, usually from the bouncer himself per Ahzrukhal's orders. Then, Ahzrukhal would 'leave' something small on the bar counter when he went to his quarters for the night. A scrap of squirrel meat, or a few gristly chunks of a mole rat steak. There was the order that Ahzrukhal would throw over his shoulder before he left. “Eat, Charon.”

  Charon would resist as long as he could, hoping that maybe this time was the time he would break the conditioning. Until finally, delirious with pain, hunger and orders orders orders scraping at the inside of his skull he would devour it.

  He always tried to regurgitate the food, but Med-X worked so quickly when ingested. The relief of no longer having the orders was gone almost instantly. His legs would give out and he would collapse on the floor, vision fading in and out as he watched Ahzrukhal creep from his room and smile down at him...

  Charon could only recall bright, painful bits and pieces of what would happen afterwards. From what he could determine, Ahzrukhal charged three to six ghouls an exorbitant sum of caps, and then left them alone with a restrained Charon, a room full of bloodied instruments, some Stims and a friendly warning that their time would run out 'sooner or later'.

  They always looked so pleased with themselves, the ghouls who caused him such harm. Delighting in kicking a drugged-up dog. He was powerless to do anything as they played with him for what felt like eternity. Hacking into fingers just to elicit a response, tracing the trickle of tears down his face with grimy, disbelieving hands. Often as not, the tears would come as a surprise to them, as would the strangled groans of pain from the tall ghoul. He could feel every minuscule thing they did to him and yet he was powerless to do anything but retreat into his mind and let the pain dissipate, or be present and endure the suffering.

  Once, there was only one ghoul waiting for him. Thinking of him made Charon's stomach flop queasily, raider-ghoul rabble around him stilling as he remembered the filthy feeling he had afterwards, like the dirt had burrowed under his skin and he needed to flay himself alive just to feel clean again. That ghoul had stuck around too long; the drug wore off and Charon strangled him with his bare hands. Ahzrukhal had swung open the door and burst into laughter at the sight of Charon, bloodied and furious, unbuttoned pants hanging precariously on his hips, with one massive hand still wrapped firmly around the unnamed, naked ghoul's crushed windpipe.

  “That's a bit more of him than I ever wanted to see!” Ahzrukhal chuckled, making Charon snarl and drop the body.

  “Enough.” The barroom door swung open, and Spoon waltzed into the room. She swept off her hat and bowed ridiculously deep at Ahzrukhal. Surprisingly the sleazy ghoul returned the bow, waving her on.

  “Of course ma'am, he's all yours.” Ahzrukhal said, nodding to Charon and then leaving.

  “Kneel, Charon.” Spoon ordered, her hands on her hips. Charon was powerless to disobey, dropping to his knees and looking up at her in poorly-concealed fear. She took his face in her hands, and then kissed him mercilessly, like she was trying to take the breath out of him.

  Fuck . “ Mistress, I--”

  “It's alright, love. You're with me. You're safe. Just relax, everything will be alright. Let me carry you, for once.” Spoon whispered, smiling at him kindly. The raiders faded to black behind her, everything was darkness but Spoon, his Spoon.

  “I'll always be right here, Charon. I'll do my damnedest to always be here for you, big guy. Even if you're still dreaming, even if it's just a nightmare, you shouldn't be alone...”

    Spoon breathed a sigh of relief when Charon's eyes opened slowly. “Are you alright?” She asked quietly. Charon nodded, looking confused. “You were...yelling. In your sleep. I came downstairs because I thought Jericho was back but...” Spoon trailed off, tightening her grip on the tall ghoul. She didn't really care whether he thought she was being forward or not, the way his body shifted while he slept and the way he had alternated between groaning and crying out had been heartbreaking. She kissed his forehead, then looked down at the worn fabric of his shirt. “I just...I wasn't sure whether you were gonna' be okay if I woke you up, so-”

  “You sat on me.” Charon finished drowsily.

  Spoon flushed. “That was just because you were thrashing around! I wasn't trying anything, I swear!” So much for not caring whether he thinks you're forward. Smooth move, Spoon. “I didn't want you to hurt yourself, not after all the raider shit.”

  Charon's fingers twitched and then sought out Spoon's hand on his chest. “I am...I am somewhat battered, I will admit. You wish me to be honest with you. I will be honest. I am damaged.” He seemed to be making a concerted effort to keep his voice calm and level. “I have been passed around a bit. I don't understand how to react to things. Sometimes I have awful nightmares.” The words poured out of his mouth faster and faster, like he was cracking. “I remember things that I've done, or maybe it's not me but things that people around me have done I remember people doing things to me the sleep and the fucking conditioning that makes me want to puke and the white, white walls so fucking white and I just-”

  “Hey, hey, whoa there big guy. One thing at a time. Take it easy.” Spoon interrupted, immensely worried as Charon's chest started to heave. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck and shoulder, swallowing hard. “Please don't vomit on me Charon. I stain something fierce.” Charon's laugh was choked and forlorn-sounding, but it was something. Spoon took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “I'm glad you told me.” She said seriously. The ghoul shrugged. “No really, I am! I mean, this isn't like the hungry thing where I can just pile more food onto your plate, but shit it's something.” Spoon got to her feet, and stretched out a hand to Charon, her crooked grin firmly in place. “Leave ol' Shotty next to my bed for the night. You can sleep upstairs with me. I'll kick the shit out of your nightmares.”

    Charon laid rigid on the bed, Spoon fast asleep beside him. A small solar-powered fan hummed quietly in the window, doing almost nothing to alleviate the heat. Charon himself didn't feel it all too much, but obviously Spoon did. She was in a pair of shorts and hole-riddled shirt. However she was the one sleeping, and he was the one left awake to stare at the ceiling and feel every twitch of Spoon's body.

  Lord , she was a restless sleeper. So much for kicking the shit out of my nightmares .

  Charon snorted at the ceiling. Beside him, Spoon rolled over, pressing her stomach to his side and flinging her leg over his. Charon grunted, attempting to wriggle away and failing miserably. Spoon's hand drifted over the ghoul's chest, tracing languid, unknown patterns across the ragged skin. Charon sucked in a breath, somewhat surprised still. Spoon was attracted to him. Spoon was...attracted to him? It may just be an unconscious reaction from her body and not her mind, but even that was flattering. Getting a positive physical reaction out of someone who wasn't ghoulified was high praise in Charon's book. As ghouls went, he wasn't that bad looking. He still had hair after all, even if it was only a light dusting of it. But as far as human appearances go...

  Eh. He could use a little work. There were better-looking folk just in Megaton, never mind the Wastes. So Spoon finding him attractive was...interesting. Charon carefully wrapped an arm around Spoon's shoulders, and was rewarded when she snuggled into him with a sigh.

  “Charon...”

  The ghoul bit his lip at the sound of his name. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?” He murmured. “You've slogged your way through hell and back for a monster who doesn't even deserve to be around you. I'm surprised you didn't put a bullet in my skull instead of going to trade in dangerous territory to get Ahzrukhal to hand me over. I don't understand you, smoothskin.” Charon grumbled.

  “I know you don't.” Spoon yawned, making Charon flinch. He had thought she was still sound asleep and he cursed inwardly, wondering how much she'd heard. Spoon stretched languidly. “Luckily I'm not in this for your understanding, otherwise we might be in a jam.” She said teasingly, her voice rough from sleep.

  The ghoul snorted as Spoon yawned again, her lazy stretching pressing her into his leg and hip. Charon shifted, going to take his arm from behind her shoulders. But she grabbed his hand.

  “No.” She mumbled. “Stay.”

  Stay. “Spoon...” Charon groaned in exasperation, even as the order spiraled down from his brain to his spine, then settled in his stomach. A low, dull pulse began to pound in his gut and his breathing hitched momentarily. Next she'll tell you to sit. Like a good dog. When to come and when to go. What to kill. When to sleep when to fuck when to eat when to --

  Spoon's eyes fluttered open, staring up at him with an odd expression. He knew he must look like a sight. He hated the way his face stiffened under orders. She bit her lip, worrying the chapped skin between her crooked teeth. “...sorry. I goofed that one,” She whispered finally, “You don't have to stay. You can stay...if you want to, that is.”

  The throbbing in his back and stomach vanished as quickly as it had begun, leaving Charon reeling. She picked up on that very quickly! His brain screamed in bewilderment. The ghoul untangled himself from her and got up from the bed.

    Spoon flopped onto her stomach, watching him as he paced in the tiny bedroom. She obviously wasn't going to be getting more rest for a while.

  “Why?” He finally asked, milky blue eyes luminescent in the half-light of the bedroom. Spoon shivered unconsciously. His eyes could be quite...unsettling.

  “Why what?” She yawned, rolling onto her back and looking at him upside down. Charon's face twisted and for a minute she could have sworn he looked on the verge of tears.

  “Why me? Why...Why are you like this?” He clarified; slow, careful steps taking him to the bed where he proceeded to loom over the prone woman.

  Spoon stared up at him, closing one eye as if she were concentrating hard. “Charon,” She began after a long, contemplative pause (during which her heart pounded in her chest wildly because he's so close to me and we're not in any danger and he could kiss me he's so close) “Why did my parents have me?” Charon's expression was flabbergasted, but Spoon persisted. “C'mon, you've done the deed a few times I'll wager! You know how this works, big guy. Why did my parents have me?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, studiously avoiding her eyes as he murmured something under his breath that sounded decidedly exasperated before replying, “I don't know, smoothskin. I didn't know your folks. This a trick question?”

  Spoon sighed. “Allow me to apologize to your delicate sensibilities ahead of time, Ferryfuck Of The River Styx.” She said wryly. The teasing name startled an indignant huff out of the large ghoul, and his arms tightened across his chest. “My parents bumped uglies and, in turn, had me because they could stand each other. I gravitate to the people that I can stand. I'm not infinitely patient. If you had turned out to be some grumbly prick all the time-”

  “Beg your fuckin' pardon, smoothskin?!”

  “--I would have handed your contract off and been done with you. I snagged your contract in the first place because I needed someone to watch my back. It gets lonely out there. I picked you because you seemed like you wanted to escape. You weren't happy. No one would be on a leash that fucking short.” Spoon's hand coasted up the outside of the ghoul's hip, and she wound one calloused finger through the fraying belt loop located there. She tugged Charon closer, staring up at him the whole while. “I didn't even know who you were, but I wanted you happy. I couldn't let you suffer if I could help and you in turn could help me. I'm kind of selfish, y'see.” Spoon's eyes drifted closed. She sat there silently, feeling Charon flex and shift under her hand on his hip as he fidgeted. “Charon?” She murmured, removing her hand after a good long while and still feeling the heat of him on her fingertips.

  She received a grunt in reply, and a body climbed onto the bed to lay down beside her.

  “Would you...would you ever bump uglies with me? If I asked really nice, maybe?” She whispered, already half-asleep and feeling vaguely like she ought to be embarrassed by what she just said.

  A hand cupped her cheek, and she thought a set of chapped lips pressed to her forehead. “Sleep.” Came the rasping voice, a note of warning in it. “You need to heal.”

  But Spoon persisted, gripping the hand on her cheek. “Please?” She knew she was whining, but she was so tired...

    Charon hushed her, carefully running his free hand through her hair in a motion that was all at once familiar and unfamiliar. “I'll tell you in the morning.” He said quietly, biting his lip hard when Spoon sleepily kissed his knuckles.

  “Hope you say yes...” She trailed off, stretching and humming appreciatively as he continued his ministrations on her hair. The ghoul rolled his eyes, making a shushing sound as best as he could.

  “Don't you worry about that, smoothskin. It ain't important enough.” Charon only found sleep as the room began to lighten from the dawn.

Part Nine

#fallout three #fallout 3 #Charon the ghoul #Female!Lone Wanderer #rewrite #hurt/comfort #canon-typical violence #video games #slow burn #charon/F!LW #Charon/Female Lone Wanderer