#and then he sees them again after they survived *all of THAT*

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

#Dungeon Meshi #Delicious in Dungeon #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #Laios Touden #Dungeon Meshi meta #you can have him in the tags too. as a treat. #Dungeon Meshi spoilers #this was directly inspired by livelaughlaios's post about Kabru self harming but I decided it got too long to make it a direct reply #this is a theory I've been working on for weeks because I kept noticing this while skimming for screencaps #I'm hesitant to trigger tag this because of the way certain subcultures on tumblr operate #but if anyone needs me to add a content warning please let me know #also I included image descriptions! I did my best #I think they even help illustrate my points but my god were they sad to write. Kabru is so fucking sad you guys #musings with Dea

[hawkinsbnbg]

See, Eddie had always been bad at flirting if not a disaster at it. And it didn't help when he had a bad habit of going dumb around Steve Harrington—the boy of his dream, the muse of his soul, the sun of his flowers, and the light of his life.

At this point, it was inevitable that whatever he managed to say to Steve always ended up sounding awkward or worse, ominous.

"Why are you staring?" Steve cocked an eyebrow at him, hazel eyes gleaming in amusement.

They were having a movie night at the Munson’s new apartment after holding one at Steve’s just last week.

And as usual, Eddie’s attention was on the other boy, unable to stop gazing at that lovely face.

Sometimes, Eddie still felt like he was hallucinating whenever he hung out with Steve. Because, never in his wildest dream, he would see himself being friends with King Steve.

And yet, against all odds, after surviving Hell together, they had become fast friends and stayed like that for months. These days, Eddie could confidently say that he was Steve's best friend besides Robin.

Then again, he was quite sure Steve wouldn't give him The Moves™️—lips biting, eyes glancing up through lashes, knees squeezing, hips knocking, hands holding—if they were just friends.

So. Flirting.

If only Eddie was all suave and smooth, he bet they would be boyfriends by now, and not whatever that had been going on between them these last few months.

Sorry for staring but your eyes are so beautiful; they’re the most priceless gemstones in the world, sweet candies that I want to possess, a hazel sky that I want to keep drowning in, was all Eddie wanted to say.

But instead, he blurted out. "I wanna lick your eyeballs.”

Horrified, Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth before quickly correcting his grave mistake.

"Wait– I didn't mean that," he flailed his hands around in panic and tried to explain to a wide-eyed Steve. "I meant, I want to keep your eyes to myself– No, that sounds so creepy, oh my god–"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Steve straightened from his comfy position on the couch and held Eddie's hands gently. "Calm down, Eds. Just take your time. I promise I won't go anywhere."

Eddie nodded, heart beating fast under the attention of those warm and kind doe-eyes.

Eventually, he got a grip on himself and turned his hands so he could lace them with Steve. Theirs were about the same size but always fitted so well together like gloves.

Eddie looked up to meet Steve's patient gaze. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The success rate was sixty percent, which was enough for him to work with.

"I uhm, like your eyes a lot,” he cleared his throat slightly. “So can I take you on a date tomorrow?"

In a fleeting second, he feared for a rejection. But then, Steve smiled at him, sweet and pretty, and Eddie was done for.

"My shift lasts until four, so you can pick me up then," Steve gave his hands a light squeeze.

Overwhelmed with joy, Eddie pulled the other boy into his lap to kiss him silly.

Later, they moved into Eddie's bedroom to continue their making out session without worrying about being walked in on by Wayne.

He hunched over Steve with those long legs wrapping around his lower back, and kept peppering Steve's face with kisses because he could never have enough of him.

"Should've," a kiss on the forehead. "Done," a kiss on the eyelid. "This," a kiss on the nose. "Sooner," another kiss on the cheek.

Steve giggled and threaded his fingers into Eddie's hair to pull him down into another tender kiss.

When they parted again, they were both blushing and panting.

Eddie had to refrain himself from grinding against Steve, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his pants on once he succumbed to the siren's call.

Steve didn't share the same sentiments as him, however, when those legs tightened and forced Eddie to scoot in closer, making their clothed erections press into each other.

Even through multiple layers of denim, Eddie still felt the delicious friction that lit him up like wildfire.

"God, you're killing me, sweetheart," Eddie groaned and pecked those pouty lips, red and swollen like sin.

"Haunt me then," Steve whispered and rolled his hips, tempting and alluring. "Make me remember."

Eddie didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He just surrendered himself to the siren's call and got lost in the sweet paradise that was Steve Harrington.

Afterward, as Eddie was stroking Steve's naked back absently, he pressed a kiss on Steve's forehead.

"Think we should take it slow, baby?"

"If that's what you want, Eds," Steve shrugged slightly. Then, in a small voice, he glanced up from where he was pillowing on Eddie's chest. "You'll tell me if I move too fast, 'kay?"

"The last thing I'm gonna complain about is you, baby boy," Eddie snorted and tucked a stray hair behind Steve's ear. "I just wanna hear your opinions about our relationship is all."

This time, it was Steve's turn to snort. "Haven't been on a date yet, and here we're already talking about our relationship."

"Yeah," Eddie chuckled. "We're kinda doing things out of order right now," he gave Steve's forehead another small kiss. "But you were an impatient little thing, sweetheart. Can't imagine what you would've done to me if I hadn't given in earlier."

"Don't pretend like you haven't been desperate to lay your hands on me," Steve rolled his eyes with a quiet huff.

"Keep doing that and you're gonna see how desperate I am, doll face," Eddie said huskily.

"Is that a threat?" Steve raised his eyebrow in challenge, hazel eyes gleaming impishly. "Because it's not working on me, honey."

Eddie's lips stretched into a wide grin and before Steve could taunt him again, he started tickling the other boy.

In the end, Steve had won the tickle war and Eddie had blown him off as a reward.

To no one’s surprise, they managed to go through another round, and by the time they finished, Steve was too out of it to tease Eddie anymore.

The morning after, he had woken up with Steve in his arms.

Once Steve roused, they had made out a bit too long in the bed, exchanged toes-curling handjobs in the bathroom, and had breakfast together with Wayne before leaving for work.

When the time rolled in, Eddie might be a bit too eager to give Steve everything, because he had gone a little overboard for their date night.

But all in all, Steve had enjoyed the dinner Eddie prepared and given him the most legs-shaking blowjob ever when they were watching TV on the couch.

Later that night, having Steve snore blissfully in his arms, Eddie decided that the date was more than a success.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie is a simp #disaster gay eddie munson #but also #smooth eddie munson #when he finally got his shit together #sionewrites

[rebelliousstories]

Toxic as Rads

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @silverose365

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 1,307

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: They had not been alright for a long time. They would breakup, and then make up. A vicious cycle with no foreseeable end.

“Damnit Coop! I am so sick and tired of running in these damn circles.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be chasin’ your own bullshit.”

This had been going on for hours now. The couple had holed up in an abandoned facility that was still somehow standing after all the years, and bombs. Neither one could remember what this argument was about this time, but that is how they worked. They would fight. They would make up. And they would do it all again the next day.

It did not used to be like this though. They used to be happy, and in love.

~

“Listen, I just need someone to show me the ropes. I was thrown out here and I don’t wanna die.” A feminine voice pleaded with a cowboy that was busy walking away.

“Don’t do charity cases, darlin’. Not even if they’re cute like you, Vaultie.” His voice was growing more and more distant.

“Hey! Ghoul, you want this back?” Turning back around, Cooper found that she was holding a gun, and a box of chems. Patting himself down, he found that he was missing one of his guns, and his box of chems. He marched right up to the girl with a low growl.

“Gimme that, little girl. You don’t know what that’s gonna do.” He tried to get his effects back, but what unsuccessful. Cooper tried again, and finally got them back, but she just swiped his hat off of his head while his hands were full.

“Listen here, I don’t do no damn charity cases.” The Ghoul grabbed his hat back once he had stashed his gun and chems.

“Please. I’m really good at stealing. I can get you anything you want.” She begged once more, looking close to getting on her knees.

“Anything I want?” He pressed, watching in amusement as her head nodded up and down fast.

“Alright, Vaultie. Let’s see what you’re made of.” He turned on his heel and left, smirking as the vault dweller was hot on them to follow.

~

“Coop, I am tired of this shit. Can you just trust me to do a job, or do fuckin’ anything?” She screamed, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Well then maybe you should make it easy and go. Not like I expected a damn vault dweller to stay around me like a lost puppy.” He thought to himself, but did not realize that he had actually said it aloud. Cooper watched as the horror morphed into melancholy on her face. With her face, he finally realized his mistake.

“Darlin’, now I didn’t mean that. Come here.” Cooper tried to gather her in his arms, but she slipped out faster than him. She ran around the room and collected her items that were strewn about, trying to get them on faster than Cooper could get to her.

“Sweetheart, you know that’s not what I meant. I was just upset. Please let’s talk this through. No need to do anything rash.” But she had bolted out the front door before he ever got there, and ran into the night. Howard tried to follow her, but there was a reason she was good at stealing; she was also amazing at not being found. Looking out into the night sky, Cooper screamed to the heavens, although he knew no one would hear his call of despair. Retreating back into the building, he threw, kicked, and hit anything he could get his hands on. Once his rage had been exhausted, Cooper made sure he had all of his gear with him, before he set out into the night.

By day three, he was pissed. Cooper should be proud; he had trained her on how to survive in the Wasteland and avoid detection. But this was him, using his own tracking skills to track down on someone he had personally trained. The fact that she was staying a step a head was impressive and infuriating. He had followed her near a settlement; a very familiar settlement. This was the same town that he had gotten her from all those years ago. It was a little more rundown, but the structures still stood as strong as they could.

“God damnit woman.” Cooper knelt down to collect a familiar pouch that held a vintage camera with a little bit of film left. They had found it together their first year traveling together and she took every opportunity to get pictures together. He knew the negatives on that film were all of him, or of them together. Why she dropped it, he did not know. But it could not have been a good reason. Strapping it into his own pouch on his saddle bag, Cooper made his way around the town. People moved out of his way as he moved, but he could not find her there. If she came all the way back here, why was she still avoiding him?

That is when a thought came into his head. Leaving the designated town, Howard stalked along the sides, and found a house on the outskirts. This house had remained abandoned the entire time he had been coming here for some reason or another. He did not particularly care to remember why it remained empty. There was a shift of fabric that he could hear from the front door. Making his way into the house, Cooper heard the soft sniffles and quiet cries of his woman as he grew closer and closer to the bedroom.

The door was halfway open, which meant he could not have snuck up on her even if he wanted to. And the sight inside made his heart hurt. She was curled up on the bed with blankets and pillows. It looked more like a nest than a bed, but she found herself in the middle of it all.

“Go away.” Her voice was hoarse as it tried to spit out and sound meaner than she actually sounded.

“Now, I think you don’t really want that darlin’.” Cooper replied, placing his hat on the bedpost at the foot of the bed/nest situation.

“You don’t know what I want. Besides, I’m just some stupid vault dweller who follows you around like a lost puppy. Figured you’d be having a damn party with me gone.” Turning further and further away, the scratch to her voice almost made it like a growl. Howard shrugged off his duster and threw the rest of his guns, belts, and bags into a chair in the corner before encroaching upon her space. She tried to push him off, but he kept wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his chest.

“I’m sorry for what I said, darlin’. Didn’t mean what I said.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, and squeezed her closer while her arms dropped in defeat.

“I just don’t understand why you would say that if you didn’t mean it.” She lamented.

“Was just angry darlin’. Not at you. Just- we’ve been fightin’ a lot. We never used to and it seems every day we’re findin’ somethin’ to get pissed off about.” He replied, settling into the comfortable bed.

“I know. ‘M sorry for running. Just didn’t know how to deal with it all.” Rolling over, she tucked her face into Cooper’s chest and smushed them closer together.

“No need to apologize sweetheart,” came his response. He pressed another kiss, this time to her forehead, and started to stroke her hair.

“Oughta redden your ass though. Makin’ me chase you all over this damn desert.” Cooper teased, his gloved hand reaching down to give her rear a teasing squeeze.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ghoul.” She teased back, snuggling in closer. They were not perfect, that was for certain. But from that point forward, they would be doing better.

#rebelliousstories #writing #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard #cooper the ghoul howard #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout imagine #fallout

[acapelladitty]

something lost, something gained

Summary: After being snatched by human traffickers while exploring an abandoned schoolhouse, Lucy fights to survive as she waits for Cooper to find her. (3.9k words)

(warnings for: attempted sexual assault, biting, blood, face slapping, groping, violence, murder, aftercare, hurt/comfort, cooper trying his best in a bad situation)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Awaking with a languid groan, Lucy's eyes flittered open for only a moment before slamming shut again as a dull pain to her temple made her wince and gasp. Raising her right hand to press at the skin, she was surprised to find her left hand moving in tandem and her eyes snapped open as she realised that her hands were bound together.

Gazing down at the coarse rope which encircled her wrists, panic arose in Lucy's chest as she glanced around the small, cell-shaped room and immediately understood that she was not anywhere recognisable. It didn't even look like the same building she last remembered walking into.

"Cooper?" Calling out with a dry, uncomfortable voice, a sense of irritation laced the anxiety which rolled through her. "What the fudge? Why am I in here?"

The door to the cell creaked open and Lucy glanced up from her slumped position to see a man she did not recognise fill the doorway. He was very tall, head almost brushing the top of the door frame, with a mop of raggedy blonde hair hanging limply across his shoulders and something in the way he looked at her made her skin crawl with unspoken danger. An instinctive disgust which made her mouth tighten.

"Finally awake." The man spoke, his voice sharp, light and slightly pitched. "We were worried we'd done some real damage to your head there."

At his words, Lucy finished her earlier assessment as her fingers once again grazed the hard lump which had formed on her temple - the skin feeling raw and wounded under her fingertips. Dragging her fingertips away, she found them flecked with her own blood.

"Who are you?" She asked, wide eyes darting across the limited space. "Did Cooper put you up to this? Or my father?"

"Don't know who any of those people are but we saw you going into that old schoolhouse with a ghoul so we snuck in, waited for you to split, and gently smuggled you out."

Gently smuggled.

The wound on her head suggested otherwise.

"Why?" A reflex question, one Lucy didn't think she wanted the answer to as the blonde man took a small step in her direction to stare down at her with a lecherous smirk.

"Cause you're in our territory and you're ours now. Me and my buddies have a little side business going on and you're our latest catch." His gaze roving across her white tank top and blue pants, one of his hands settled on the visible bulge of his groin as he winked at her. "We take them, break them, and pass them on to be sold. 50/50 share. And, baby, let me tell you, you're gonna fetch us a pretty price."

The panic in her chest now clawing at her heart as she scrambled her back against the cool stone of the wall, Lucy felt sweat break out across her body as she took in his candid admission with open-mouthed horror.

"No. You can't-"

"Yeah. I can smell the vault on you so I know you probably aren't rolling with the same diseases as all the other cunts we pick up."

Flinching at the term, Lucy fell back into what she knew best as old defense mechanisms kicked in to protect her as best they could.

"Let me go and I'll get you whatever you need. Caps, meds, weapons. I know people who could hel-"

"You?" Laughing openly at her offer, the man steadied himself against the doorframe. "Maybe that bulky ghoul we saw you with could have worked some muscle for us but you haven't got shit we need. Well, aside from-"

His hand still groping sleazily against his bulge, the man stepped fully within the cell and kicked the door shut before him. An action which made Lucy jump as her body shuddered and tensed to the point of discomfort, sensing the danger and violence to come.

"You see, cunt. I'm much nicer than my two friends out there and I'm willing to cut you some slack. Wrap your lips around my cock and suck it like your life depended on it, and I'll tell the boys that you're willing to be a good girl for us. They'll even leave their nasty 'breaking in' toys at the door if they think you're gonna be a good girl."

As he spoke, his body inched closer towards Lucy and her fingers shook terribly as she struggled against the rope holding her wrists, vision quick to blur as genuine fear rocked through her body.

He's going to rape me. Repeated in her head like a cruel, merciless mantra. The elders had told them what rape was, explained that they needed consent to ensure that everyone in the vault was happy and able to share their bodies without problem. They knew, in the vault, they all knew what was okay and what wasn't.

"Cooper!" She hollered out, voice breaking on the second syllable as she attempted to back up against the wall enough to scramble to her feet. "Please, fudge, someone help!"

A memory rose, unbidden in her mind as Lucy rolled her back against the wall. Not long after her body had started to change, one of the elders, a slender old guy named Ernest, had caught her in the gardens. He had asked her questions about her changing body, questions that made her heart feel heavy in her chest as a sense of how wrong he made her feel forced her to back away from him.

He had moved to grab her, his hand wrenching her arm away from her chest when her father had appeared from nowhere. He had been causal in his greeting but even as a child, she had noticed how tight her dad's smile was and how quickly he ushered her back to her room so he could have a quick chat with him.

Ernest died soon after. One of the first to be lost to the latest famine as the crops failed due to an unknown blight. She hadn't questioned it then, too many good people had been lost, but now, in this moment where that same childish fear weighed heavily at her limbs, she wondered if her father had killed him for what he had tried to do.

Kicking out with her feet as the man dropped to his knees before her, his fingers were quick to lock around her ankles - pulling her free of the wall and stealing the breath from her lungs as her head collided with the floor.

"Please, no. Don't do this! No!"

"First times always the worst."

Flashing rotted teeth at her as he straddled her waist, his hands pinned her own roped palms to her stomach as he burrowed down into her space. His breath was awful, smelling foul and rancid, and it sparked a retch in Lucy's throat as she twisted her head to the side. His tongue trailed across her cheek, tasting the grime on her skin as he growled in her ear.

"Just gotta remember to be a good girl and-ARGH!" Breaking off into a pained scream, the man reared back as blood poured from his mouth to drip down on her tank top.

Spitting out the large portion of tongue she had ripped free with her teeth, Lucy used her attackers moment of stunned pain to knock him free of her body. Crawling on her knees, she almost made it to the door when a rough hand wrapped around her hair.

"Stupid cunt!" The words lisping due to his injury, the man's hand was like fire in her hair as he snatched at her scalp viciously. "Gonna break your fucking nose for that."

Yelling as her hands locked around a small shard of metal that lay by the closed door, the man's foot having accidentally knocked it within the cell as he entered, Lucy gripped it tight as she spun on her knees, digging the shard deep into the closest foot she could reach before pulling it free with a vicious twist.

A fresh cry of pain broke free of her attacker as he crashed to the ground, his hands tight around his foot while he snarled obscenities at her.

Fuelled by adrenaline, fear and rage, Lucy pounced on him like a cat, knocking his back flat to the floor as she stabbed the metal as roughly into his throat as she could. Memories of her fraudulent husband flashed before her eyes and she hollered a vicious snarl as she dragged the metal through his skin until the blood flowed and the gurgling of his throat ceased.

Breathing heavily, she stayed in that position until his glassy-eyed stare repulsed her, the scent of fresh blood making her heave anew. Body shaking and mind rattling, it was only when a new voice broke the silence that she jumped as though an electric bolt had fired across her spine.

"Fuck, Petey. She's killed Owen."

Rolling off the corpse, Lucy was quick to take her earlier position - her stained fingers clutching the metal shard as her back pressed against the wall once more.

"Owen was always a dipshit. We'll be better off without him." The taller of the two newcomers added.

Looking just as filthy as the first guy, Lucy's eyes were wild as she pointed the metal at each of them in turn.

"L-let me go. I'll do the same to you." She stuttered, a sinking feeling of despair making her skin feel cold and clammy. "I've killed people before and you'll be next."

Glancing between themselves, both men burst out into a cruel laughter and their movements were quick as they descended on her. Fingers already trembling, it was easy for them to wrestle the metal from her hands and pin her to the floor; their much larger bodies easily holding her knees apart as they pressed them to the floor with their own legs.

Rough hands fished inside her tank top and Lucy found herself unable to do much but bare her teeth and fight off a sob as her chest was pulled free of her bra; breasts spilling over the fabric as matching grunts of approval escaped her attackers.

"They'll do nicely. Fuck, might not even sell this one, what do you think?" The one named Petey asked, his free hand gripping at her chin painfully as he tilted her head to the side in a crude inspection.

Cupping her left breast as though weighing it in his hand, the other man flashed a yellow smile at her.

"Could play with her for a few weeks without going to the others. Would you like that? A few weeks with us and then a ten minute walk up north to meet the rest of the boys?"

Refusing to answer as a fat tear rolled free of her eye, Lucy chose to remain quiet and not give them anything as she struggled in vain.

"You owe us for you did to Owen." The second man continued, his face an open leer as he released her jaw. "So I'm gonna fuck you and then Petey is gonna fuck you and then we're both gonna fuck you. Then you're gonna open those pretty lips wide for-"

"No."

A sharp hand collided with the side of Lucy's face, the blow catching her across the mouth and bursting her lip open in an instant as the taste of copper flooded her mouth.

"Not asking, cunt."

Their hands were all over her, one set fondling her breasts while the other pulled at the hem of her tank top to expose her stomach. They were everywhere and the feeling of them, hot and heavy atop her body, made her feel sick - her throat constricting and panicking as her breaths came short and fast.

The vague sound of the door slamming open touched at her senses but it felt so far off that she didn't think much of it until all hell broke loose.

A fresh splatter of blood sprayed across her face, the sensation matching by a booming gunshot which made her ears ring in the small space as the taller of the two, Petey, collapsed dead atop her - a hole leaking blood and brains from the front of his forehead to her exposed chest.

In shock, both Lucy and the remaining man stared at the corpse for a second before Lucy felt half the weight on her body disappear as the final attacker was pulled free. Her eyes unfocused and blurred with tears, she saw the flash of familiar, tattered leather which hurled her would-be attacker against the wall.

Sounds of exertion were quickly followed by a fresh death gurgle as Cooper's knife flashed in his hand for only a second before being drawn across her attackers throat; the arterial spray swiftly coating Cooper's clothed chest as he let go of his prey and allowed the fresh body to drop to the floor.

Not trusting her eyes, Lucy tilted her head back and cast her gaze to the dingy ceiling as her thoughs spiralled into a messy haze.

After a moment, Cooper's face swam in her vision and the close sight of him sparked a myriad of emotions within her; shock giving way to genuine relief before settling on fear as she took in the genuine fury which blazed in his stark white eyes as they darted across her battered face and disjointed clothing.

He wasn't angry with her, she knew that, but the sheer rage which rolled from his coiled frame made her want to curl into a ball and hide away from it. He smelled of leather and blood, the scent of fresh violence making her nose twitch as the corpses of her attackers lay motionless, crowding the floor of her cell.

"S'alright, I got you, sweetie." Cooper's hands were firm but gentle as he wrapped them around her shoulders, hoisting her enough that she were able to lean against the wall in a sitting position.

Despite everything, his voice was like a balm and she relaxed into his touch as her trembling fingers were gripped within his own - his knife glinting once more as he quickly severed her bindings and let the rope fall to the floor. In an instant, her knees snapped to her chest as her arms looped around them, her body curling in on itself as a wave of nausea made her throat feel tight.

Still on his haunches before her, Cooper studied her for a solid moment before matching her position as he leaned against the opposite wall, his legs outstretched and his back straight against the cool stone.

"Fix yourself, darlin'. I'd offer but I don't think you want another monsters hands on you before the day's out."

Keeping her knees tight, Lucy brought trembling fingers to her chest - her relief at being saved having made her forget about her state of undress - and she tucked her breasts away back into the off-white bra with a lifeless motion, the skin feeling sensitive and sore due to their abuse. Made decent, her arms were quick to loop around her knees once more, her chin sitting atop her knees as a gloomy, far-off expression graced her features.

"Did they-" A half question which Cooper quickly thought better of as he abandoned ship and adjusted it on the fly. "You okay?" It was a quiet ask, the words so low that Lucy knew she could ignore them if she wanted to.

"No," she stuttered, feeling weary despite the adrenaline which still pulsed in her veins, "but I have to be because what else is there. So I have to be."

Making a small noise of agreement in his chest, Cooper's gaze rose to the ceiling as he plucked his hat from his head and dropped it to the floor by his open lap.

"That you do, darlin'. Nothing else for it."

They sat in silence for a bit, the only slightly pained sounds coming from Lucy's throat as she adjusted to the various aches which afflicted her body. Her face was the worst as her temple throbbed like a bitch and her burst lip felt huge and ugly against her mouth. The bodies forever doomed to lay in messy piles, Lucy's eyes ghosted over them and settled on the growing patches of blood which each steadily leaked to the cell floor.

"You killed them all?" She said, already knowing the answer and unsure why she even asked.

"Not all of them. One of them was already dead when I got here and I'd recognise the teeth marks in that hunk of ripped tongue anywhere." Despite the guarded nature of his tone, there was a spark of warmth as he flashed his, well, her, finger at her, and Lucy swore she heard the slightest hint of pride leaking through. "You did good, sweetheart. You fought like a hellcat and you didn't let them win."

"Didn't win." Lucy mumbled miserly. "You did."

"Oh, I have no doubt you would have gotten them both in the end. They might have taken a few strips from you, but that fire in your belly would have scorched them dry."

Mouth upturning at the praise as she fought off the urge to cry, Lucy swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands as her breathing quickly grew erratic.

"All these bullshit lessons you've put me through and it still wasnt enough." She blurted out with a desperate gasp. "They're evil. I hate it here. I hate their cruelty. I hate their hurting. I hate-"

Finally unable to hold back the swell of emotion which threatened her, Lucy broke off on the final word as a heaving sob replaced any chance she had of cohesive speech. It was something raw and unfiltered, mourning the loss of some part of herself that would never be returned as she was forced to mold herself into a creature of violence and hate just to survive in their world.

Cooper, to his credit, let her cry without any false sympathies or interference. His face lacked any judgement, the hole in his face flexing slightly as he inhaled and exhaled steadily, eyes never shifting from Lucy's sobbing frame. Something difficult to pin down flashed through his gaze as though a multitude of possible outcomes were pushing at his thoughts.

After some internal debate, a grunt slipped free of Cooper's lips as he leaned across the short space and pulled at Lucy's shoulder.

So lost in her own misery, Lucy didn't fight the pressure of his strong hand as he pulled her to the side, dropping her to the floor in such a way that her head pressed against the upper part of his legs as she faced away from him. It did nothing to stop her tears, but it did give her something to lean on as he immediately retracted his hand to fold his arms fully across his chest.

Cooper's thighs were like unyielding steel beneath her head, giving Lucy something solid to pin her senses on as she fought to quell the quiver of her lip and the shudders which continued to wrack her body. Their journey had been hard and the hunt for her father was a disaster of interference and dead trails of information.

This was just the latest set-back in a long list of utter shit.

Offering her no other physical support, unsure if it would cause her to act out or break down further, Cooper waited until her breathing was a little more even before speaking again.

"Be sad." He paused, allowing the rare piece of advice to sit heavily in the air between them. "Be angry. Feel that fire in your gut burn so hot that you get the fear it's gonna burst free and raze everything around you to the ground. Hell, curse the day your momma brought you into the world if that's how you feel. But don't break."

Stopping once again, Cooper felt a rare moment of genuine pity for the woman as he glanced down at her. Lucy Maclean, who foolishly tried to choose peace in a peaceless world, still had a lot of learning to do when it came to the way that same world worked.

He could only show her so much, some lessons had to be learned the hard way, and if she could take them, then he would do his part to keep her whole.

"Whatever they do to you, survive it. Skulk off, lick your wounds, come back stronger. Get that revenge your blood sings for." Speaking as much to himself as her, Cooper allowed her a peek into his own thoughts, an insight he knew she wouldn't fully understand quite yet. "Never let them break you. Better off dead than broken in this world."

Gathering herself enough to shakily speak, Lucy gripped Cooper's knee with clawing fingers as she clung to him like a lifeline.

"There's more of them. Ten minutes up north. That's who they were- who they were going to sell me to."

"More side-tracking bullshit." Cooper sighed but his voice grew more contemplative as his gravelled tones mused on her words. "That said, been a while since I hunted down some proper vermin. No bounty. No rules. Might be fun to let loose for once."

He let the idea hang in the air, curious if she was hinting at what he suspected she was.

"You coming with me?"

"Yeah."

Unseen by the shaking Lucy, a pleased smile split Cooper's lips as he glanced down at her steady answer.

It wasn't often he took on a companion, far less one that he'd actually indulge, but the odd woman intrigued him with the hypocrisy of her very existence. A vaultie with a edge, naive blood screaming out for wrongs to be righted just like his own as she fought alongside him like a harpy.

It did help that they both wanted her dear old daddy strung up like the traitor he were.

But revenge would see her right.

She was owed a debt by those who had tried to take her, a debt of honor, and he would see that she avenged it in a glorious explosion of violence that would help keep her nightmares at bay as they would leave no doubt that the beasts responsible were well put down and unable to haunt her.

By gun or by knife, she would get at least that.

He had seen the broken ones. The ones used and abused by so many across the wastelands that they gave up everything and became husks even more devoid of humanity than the ghouls who lost the battle and went feral. It was a fate worse than the many deaths he'd experienced in his time.

No one deserved that.

Especially not Lucy Maclean.

His hand ghosting over her head, fingers only an inch away from her fine head of mousy hair, Cooper tilted his head to the side as he took her exhausted frame in.

"Sleep for now, vaultie. Time for this little killer to save her strength. So take it for what it is and when you wake, we'll see about righting some of the wrongs that happened here."

Feeling more safe with the violent ghoul who had shown her the new reality of her world than any other of the awful creatures she had met since leaving her vault, Lucy's eyes fluttered close as his voice washed over her and exhaustion claimed her before she could do anything to muse on that odd feeling of safety.

#mind those warnings! Cooper really does his best here and ive tried to keep things as in character as i could given the circumstances #cooper howard x lucy maclean #cooper x lucy #ghoul x lucy #lucy maclean #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #fallout 2024 #fallout #I'm very pleased with this one ngl #so if it flops im gonna drink strychnine #cooper howard fic #lucy maclean fic #fallout fanfic #vaultghoul #ghoulcy

[severepink]

Ancient Adam! My Design and some thoughts I had about situations/his thoughts.

Kind of a ficlet!

Adam felt a deep sense of anger that bordered on resentment when Eve began crying for the small bird he'd managed to shoot with the tool an angel had instructed him to make.

Somehow, his wife just seemed lost, unable to cope with the situation they'd been forced into.

Hunger gnawed within them both, thirst was ever present, but she would waste precious waters on empathy for a singular source of food he'd managed to find and hunt to sustain her ever growing stomach.

New life. That is what the angel had told him. New life that he was expected to propagate and care fore on top of feeding and sustaining himself and his life.

This creature would hardly be enough for Eve, unless he found another creature... Unless he refined this tool given to him, a tool Eve despised, they would die.

The resentment was only held at bay, because he could not afford giving into his anger. A life alone, a life without her, wasn't one he would have any strength at all to live.

-

The smoke from the wood made him more ravenous than he thought. He'd managed to find another animal, a much, much larger animal with horns and muscle.

He'd managed to strike it perfectly, the feather's he'd added to the end of the arrow made it fly just as the bird had.

Eve was better at breaking the animals he hunted down. He enjoyed resting, after a long hunt, and watching her delicate, intricate fingers work through the flesh and sinew with the knapped rock he'd created for this purpose.

She'd come a long way. It pained him, knowing she desensitized herself, the innocent care she'd had for the animals they'd once been so like, masked and hidden as they tried to survive. While he was gone, she attempted to forage. They continued moving further and further into lands that had green, not the same kind of green as Eden had, but green enough to sustain more creatures. More water too. She'd said she watched the animals to know what could be safe, but also rubbed the flowers, bark, and roots she found on her skin just to be sure when she tasted them to find something edible.

Some of the green she found, she added to the meats he'd caught. The scent, the taste, it was all compounded. As he sat there, his mouth rested against the bow. He gnawed at it, his stomach gurgling and growling, ever persistent in its hunger, only made worse by the long and arduous task of tracking and hauling an animal back to her. The latent energy and nervousness that came from their starvation made him huff out at the same time he plucked the string of his bow. He jumped at the vibration that touched his teeth and echoed out of his mouth, his honey brown eyes widen in shock. The noise alerts Eve, who seems panicked, before he plucks experimentally again. A mischievous smile crosses his face.

-

The blood on his hands reminded him of the first time Eve gave birth. It reminded him of the wound's he'd experienced when being attacked by the lions that prowled after the same prey he needed. Sometimes he could not look away from the blood, how it reflected in his mind, that shining, gleaming apple that'd torn him from his perfect home. The same, glistening, shining red that ever reminded him that he would die. Every death of every creature he hauled back to Eve desensitized him more and more. It was beginning to become fun, hunting these creatures down. Rewarding to wrap his beautiful, perfect, precious family within the hides of these terrible, fascinating beasts. Eve looked beautiful, the leathers she stitched hugged her curves and incited the ordained directive within his loins. He wished to see her grow large. Her stomach, her hips, her thighs. There should be more meat on her bones, more children inside of her, more milk in her breasts. More, more, more.

That would require more of him. More of them both. To sustain more mouth's to feed, he couldn't do it just by his bow alone. He also couldn't do it when Cain cried loudly into the night. The sound often attracted predators, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Still he staid alert, bow in hand while his boy cried and his wife fretted. Eve had found a crop of small seeds that she harvested many of and ground up into a paste to layout before the fire. She'd done this a time or two, mixing it with her herbs. It tasted delicious, especially when paired with the animal fat. His stomach roared almost as loud as a lion, but he focused on looking at his wife while she rocked and tutted his son. She hummed some soft tune, she named them Lilith-Bai's, much to his distaste, anger, and dismay. He complained plenty, but she persisted, claiming it would scare off his ex-Wife and her fiendish, fallen angel Lucifer, protecting their son. A chord of spite was struck in him, as she sang to quiet their son. Lilith-Bai. He would join Eve, cradling his bow to his mouth and plucked at the string, allowing the vibrations to fall into harmony with his wife's soft singing. The sound echoed into the night and Adam lost himself to the sensation and peace, the noise of his stomach quieting under his focus on creation of sounds. After a while, he realized his son and wife had both gone quiet and a short-lived panic coursed through his heart. "Adam, don't stop playing," His wife admonished him softly from across the fire. His small boy, his tiny son, had his mother's eyes. Those eyes were focused and aware of him. "Cain stopped crying... He likes your noisy bow... It seems it's good for more than just murder," No matter how tired he was. No matter how much he anguished mentally at the loss of his original home. No matter his loss of peace. No matter the shame and embarrassment he felt. The pride that was stoked in his heart from seeing his small family, made every sacrifice worth it. They made living a life outside of paradise worth it.

#adam #hazbin hotel adam #ancient adam #eve #tw blood #hazbin hotel

[aziraphales-library]

hi :))

I'm wondering if you have any cozy ineffable husbands human aus that kinda fit autumn? also angst with a happy ending would be nice

thanks!

Okay, these are the fics that came to mind for stories with somewhat cosy/autumnal vibes and some angst...

Acts of Prayer by Nadzieja (Series) (M-E)

Crowley is not a priest anymore, he has buried that part of his past long ago. Yet, fate brings him back to Tadfield where he'll have to confront a ghost from his past he hasn't seen in a very long time (but whose face might as well be carved onto his heart). [A Priest AU, with *a lot* of angst and a happy ending.]

is there anybody out there? by theycallmeDernhelm (E)

Welcome to the zombie apocalypse. England has been overrun by walking corpses, everything's gone to hell, and the few survivors are scattered- among them, Crowley and his 11-year-old son Warlock. When Crowley's radio signal is unexpectedly picked up by another group of survivors, he finds himself falling, in a way he never thought he'd fall again, for the charming and kindly Aziraphale. Over three seasons and a tenuous radio connection, a romance develops between them, while a friendship grows between Warlock and Aziraphale's nephew Adam. Love isn't dead (or undead) after all.

The Scarecrow by AppleSeeds (M)

The last surviving member of his family, Aziraphale inherits a crumbling 14th century cottage from his uncle. Staying in the cottage to catalogue his uncle's collection of rare books, Aziraphale combats his loneliness by speaking to the scarecrow in the neighbouring field. He awakes one night to find the scarecrow in his bedroom, mouth torn open, speaking to him... Crowley was cursed by a witch and turned into a scarecrow over five hundred years ago, but somehow Aziraphale's presence is changing him into something more human. While Aziraphale works to break the curse completely, the two of them spend a great deal of time together and find something special within each other, both discovering what it truly means to be free.

in the house we remain by commodorecliche (M)

Aziraphale buys a quiet cottage in the middle of the English countryside. It is perfect in every way: old-style, quaint, surrounded by wilderness, with a small water feature in the back and a price to rival that of any other property he's seen. He is in love from the moment he sees it. But when a mysterious set of books, all written by unknown author A.J. Crowley, appears on his book shelf, Aziraphale begins to wonder if there is perhaps more to this house than he'd originally believed. The truth can be buried, but it cannot stay hidden forever.

Under Construction by summerofspock (E)

Crowley has one goal: sell the run-down lodge in the Cascades that his uncle left him in his will. He doesn't expect to meet someone like Aziraphale, the kind handyman working on his uncle's property who turns out to be more of an enigma than Crowley first thought.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)

After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #angst #mod d

[galedekarios]

Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.

You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!

i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.

i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:

they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.

they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.

they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.

the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.

for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.

add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:

[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!

[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.

[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.

[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.

i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)

...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.

additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.

as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.

#ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: asks #text: personal #meta: mybg3 #bloodweave critical

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero

chapter 2

masterlist

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Ghost doesn't know what to do. He looks for Riley everywhere, with no results. He slowly loses his mind and does something he hasn't done for a long time… You wonder who and where Riley has been with all these years. How he found you? Why is he wearing that weird vest? And above all, where is the person who put it on him?

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon

author's note: I didn't expect so many comments, likes… everything… Thank you for this, it motivates me a lot.

Unfortunately, what everyone probably expects doesn't happen in this chapter… or maybe it does?^^

I plan to add new chapter once a week. However, I have more free time this week, so I will add the next part in a few days.

Chapter 2: The one with(out) Riley

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Day 730

You & Riley

It had to be Riley.

Of all the things you dreamed of all those lonely nights. About family, friends. Everything you've been longing for. You missed him the most. For your beloved dog. I t wasn't like the other family members were important to you. You just knew and pretty quickly came to terms with the thought that you wouldn't see them again.

It was difficult, hard. However, the realization of the unpleasant truth and mourning in such strange and new lonely conditions passed. The loss of the dog was unexpected and sudden. And knowing from day one that many animals somehow survived. Somewhere deep in your heart you felt that Riley was just there. And eventually, one way or another, you will be together again. But you thought it would happen after you died.

Not now. And not like that.

The dog was so happy to see you that he jumped at you with his front paws, trying to put them on your shoulders, but he was so excited and exhausted that he hit you with full force, pushing you. You hit the ground with a loud thud, crushed by the mass of the dog who was now licking every inch of your body, clothed or not. It didn't matter to him at all.

"Oh my god Riley...stop it, oh fuck" as you try to get out of the weight you don't know if you're in pain or if you're happy or shocked.

You're going through a million emotions. Many thoughts are running through your head. You have so many questions. So much confusion.

"Riley, man, calm down... I know, I know..."

You're trying to say something and at the same time get rid of the dog that has gained a lot of weight after these two years. Not only was he handsome, but he looked like a decent dog. Adult, mature. After many attempts, you finally manage to sit down, the dog seems to let go for a moment, panting loudly and sticking out his tongue. You look at each other as if each of you wanted to express and tell you everything that happened and what you felt during these months of separation.

Riley still had that incredible wisdom in his eyes, something that made him seem so human. This was one of the features that made him easy to recognize. The second thing was the fact that, unfortunately, before he came to you, when he was a puppy he lost part of his left ear. That's why as soon as you saw an animal running towards you, in a split second you knew it was him.

It was something so incredible, even impossible.

And you remember your mother's words the day the puppy showed up at the door of your family home 

"Fucking miracle"

Scratching Riley's ear, you shook your head in amusement and whispered, barely audible

"Yes Mommy, you were right… as always. He's a miracle."

Now you were just curious about the person who had kept Riley alive for so long and kept him in such great shape.

Slowly standing up, brushing off the dust from your clothes and wiping your cheeks, which were wet with dog saliva. You looked around the area, not seeing another living creature.

“Riley, who did you come with? Where is this person?”

You asked the companion next to you, grabbing your backpack and slowly walking in the direction the dog came from. However, the wounds on your feet from the long walk were so painful that you had to give up after walking a few steps.

“So, I guess we'll have to wait here for this mysterious Ghost?”

Walking towards a small building that was probably an energy building. Hoping that there will be a working power supply with electricity inside. which the tower still works and sends a signal, from time to time you looked with a smile at the dog which was glued to your leg and was following along with you.

For the first time in a long time, you smiled.

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Day 731

You & Riley

Nothing, silence, emptiness.

As if the arrival of the dog didn't change much. And it changed practically everything. The world took on new colors for you, you felt that it was a signal, a sign. Whatever. Something refreshing that restored meaning to your life after such hopeless and miserable, long and lonely months.

And somewhere deep inside you believed that someone would eventually show up. And after many hours of sitting in a dingy little building next to the tower, you lose hope again. Maybe Riley's arrival was everything you deserved in this new life.

When trying to get more comfortable on a concrete floor, you need to be careful with your dog. With every movement you make, even the smallest one, Riley raises his head and looks at you. He gets closer if you move your body away from his just the slightest. As if he was afraid that you would disappear from his sight again.

The night and half of the day passed. No one came at noon.

Like the mysterious Ghost, sleep never came.

“Darling, I'm so tired... everything hurts,” you say quietly, stroking the animal's fur with your hand.

 “Riley, I think we should wait a little longer, maybe one more day?” You look towards your backpack. Unfortunately, all the supplies you had packed were slowly running out. Your water supply would last for another day. Maybe if you saved more for the next two days. You had food for two or three days. However, you didn't expect before that you would have to count all the food and water for two.

It wasn't a problem. At all.

“Oh boy… you don't know how glad I am that you're here with me,” you muttered, placing your hand on the dog's body, finally falling asleep.

And the last thought was that in two years you haven't said as many words as today.

And it wasn't a problem. At all.

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Day 730

Ghost

Ghost felt like he was slowly losing his mind. That he's about to go crazy. Since all this happened, this whole cataclysm, the apocalypse. The end of the world... Everyone could call it whatever they wanted. That damn Day Zero. The man was able to organize himself in all this chaos, pursue his goals, plan and live. From day one, everything made sense, meaning, some direction for him.

Planning, patterns, predictability. Sticking to the schedule, drill.

His years in the army prepared him for this. It was in his blood.

So now that there had been no sign of Riley for over 24 hours, the only living being for whom he got up and went to sleep every day, it all made no sense. His life had no meaning.

Yesterday when he left the fucking house with a pillow in his hand that he took for the dog. In terror, he ran around the area shouting the dog's name, hoping that it would appear soon. Ghost was under the illusion that Riley would run around  the corner with some prey in his mouth. Wagging his tail happily.

Nothing like that happened.

Ghost, in his madness, destroyed several objects he encountered on his way. Screaming loudly and cursing. This couldn't be true. Something bad must have happened. The dog had been clinging to Ghost continuously for 2 years. Even when he taught him to hunt or search in new unknown locations, the dog was able to return to the man.

Why wasn't he there now?

Ghost finally went home after many hours of frantic searching. All the time he was wondering what else he should do to make his friend come back to him.

When he finally reached a safe place and parked the car, he looked around the area, hoping Riley had found his way home, and stuck his tongue out, wagging his tail. That the dog would be sitting outside the house, waiting for Ghost.

Unfortunately, to the man's horror, there was no sign of any presence.

Ghost felt under his skin that if he was left alone, he would lose ground. And his entire planned, arranged life will collapse day by day like a house of cards.

The house seemed unusually quiet and empty. Even though every space, every corner, cabinet, shelf and floor was filled with objects that the man had collected for two years. Supplies, clothes, items needed for survival. He was proud of how easily and quickly he adapted to the new challenge. How he was able to find himself alone, without other people.

This was another difficult and important mission for him.

I'm sitting in a chair at a large oak desk. He converted the room into an office where he kept maps, important documents and books. Ghost leaned back in the leather chair and closed his eyes.

He was afraid of this moment. Yes, he expected that one day he would be alone again. That he would have to say goodbye to his best companion. However, a German Shepherd should live up to 13 years. Maybe Riley would have lived another year or two in good health. Ghost was ready for this terrible situation. But that was to happen in the future. Someday, when they're both ready. In many years. In at least 9-10 years. That was the plan. That was the assumption.

And now Ghost was staring at the blank white ceiling, feeling like his world had collapsed once again.

The first was the death of his family.

The second time was when his teammate died.

Third… no, no, no. This couldn't happen again.

"No!" the man growled loudly, getting up from his chair and hurrying towards the room that was now the large pantry.

He must have had something strong to drink. Bloody hell. He had to drink that fucking brandy.

It's been a long 730 days since Ghost last dipped his lips in alcohol. Two years of sobriety.

And a drunk lieutenant meant something very dangerous. 

Pure madness. 

If someone showed up at Ghost's door now. The person should step back and leave without hesitation. And never come back. For your own safety. Your pathetic life.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Day 732

Walking towards the city in the morning, with your dog by your side, you felt as if the world smiled at you and let you go back to your happy years. When you were younger and Riley was just a few months old puppy. This is exactly what your mornings looked like. You were walking along quiet streets somewhere on the outskirts of your city, enjoying the new, sunny day. You usually went to your favorite cafe and bakery, then went to the park with your dog. Lazy, ordinary mornings.

Unfortunately, now despite the idyllic landscape, peace and quiet, greening grasses and trees. Nothing else here was like back then.

Silence, deserted, ruined buildings.

Even though the world changed completely that day, the city looked remarkably good and clean, the main roads were passable, cars and other things on the road had been moved so that one lane was empty. You decided to go to the center and plan further walking there.

You entered several buildings and checked several vehicles.

Weird. All the more important and necessary things you could find in these places are gone. Medicines, canned goods. Batteries, clothes, shoes. The fuel from the car was drained, batteries, light bulbs and other things from the engine were removed.

The city looked like someone had definitely lived there after Day Zero. For a long time.

However, after a few hours of walking around empty streets, you decided to enter the last building where you expected to find at least a few drops of water. Even fermented, rotten food. Whatever.

“Riley, come on, one more place and we're going back to the tower, maybe Ghost will show up tomorrow?”

you lightly pulled the dog's leash. The dog was still sitting on its hind legs, looking in the opposite direction from which you had come.

You didn't have time to react.

Focused on the dog, you leaned down to give him the command again to finally move.

You didn't have time to do anything else.

Shot.

And the whistle of the bullet.

That's all you heard...

You didn't have time to do anything else.

taglist: @leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #ghost #call of duty fanfic #cod au #cod x reader

[animentality]

Do you think Gortash would still love Durge even after their bad ending (you know when they betray Bhaal and choose to surrender themselves to prison at the end) and they’ve gone mad?

For example, let’s say in an alternate scenario where Gortash survives at the end of the game. All the other companions have abandoned Durge, do you think Gortash would step in and try to help them? Do anything?

I've wracked my brain at night thinking about it.

On the one hand, the part of me that looks exclusively at in game Gortash says that Gortash wouldn't love them without power and without reason.

Because the more canon aligned Gortash is more pragmatic than emotional and although I do think his feelings verged into the impractical, he still fundamentally needs balance.

He's a domineering kind of guy, he gets along with Durge because they refused to be cowed in any way by him, and he dared not pity them or treat them with anything less than the utmost respect.

He can't sweep them under his tidal wave of personality, he crashes upon their shore, and they chip away at each other, grain by grain, in a tumultuous but steady balance.

they had a tango, you know. two partners working together. sex and love stemmed from something other than practicality, but it was practicality that brought them together initially.

He loves the Dark Urge for their power and reason, and without those two things... maybe he wouldn't seek them out.

especially not after they betrayed him.

and I don't know. the more assholish Gortash would see their alliance as having reached its inevitable conclusion. the more... emotional but distant Gortash would say, goodbye, old friend.

I wish you could've escaped your master, as I escaped mine.

and he wouldn't see them again.

but canon aligned Gortash is underwritten anyway.

so I'll do Larian's job for them and say...

well.

it could go either way.

I can see Gortash abandoning them because he is literally unable to look upon his former love, completely without freewill, and not feel soul crushing, life ending despair.

I could see it being too painful to see them when he knows he can't help them and they can't be helped by anyone, and they're gone, and he has to accept that.

again.

but I can also see...

a determined Gortash.

who has nothing now, except perhaps a desire for revenge against Durge. but as they are, mad and alone and insatiable, why even bother, right?

Bhaal has tortured them more than Gortash ever could.

maybe he keeps them locked in a basement somewhere, and at first it's just to lord it over them. mock their failure, their inability to prevent themselves from becoming like this.

in the beginning, he's still bitter about his plan failing and he blames them. to him, maybe it's a cosmic justice...

he says you could've ruled the world with me at your side and Bhaal and Bane at our backs.

but you chose this instead.

but as time goes on, his heart softens and he starts wondering if they're in there somewhere.

the only person who could understand him.

whom he could understand truly.

and maybe they're down there somewhere, trying to be understood again.

so he shows them things he hopes they remember about the life they shared together for a brief but important time. maybe books they talked about. blueprints he showed them of his future inventions. their notebooks, left behind. their old clothing, left over after long nights spend fucking and arguing.

maybe he tries to find a cure. he has some medical expertise, right? from dissecting people. maybe he tries to find a solution, some way to bring them back. maybe he pours himself into studies of bhaalspawn and deeper magic, trying to find some way to bring back a person whose mind has been ravaged into nothing.

but worst case scenario ...

he has to give up on all that... and give them the death he knows they would've asked for, had they been conscious.

so.

yeah.

anon. I've thought of it.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash #dark urge #durgetash

[gaybananabread]

♪*✧⁠Ramshackle Day Off✧⁠*♪

~It’s official: I’ve gained yet another hyperfixation. I absolutely LOVED the pilot for Ramshackle; the trash goblins grabbed my focus. So, as with all my faves, they’re getting the special treatment. If this is your flavor of interest, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Stone

Lers: Skipp, Vinnie

Summary: Stone’s having one of his emo moments, feeling down and not even cracking his usual half-smile. Skipp and Vinnie decide to help, using the one method they know will always cheer up their grungy friend. 

Warnings: alcohol/cigarettes mentioned! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

In their slum alley, the three lovable scraps lounged about, enjoying one of the very few days where they didn't have to fight to survive.

Vinnie had hit the motherload that morning in a dumpster: an entire case of Hickory Smoked Beans, just past their expiration date. It was a Ramshackle miracle.

Since they didn't have to forage for money or food, the trio could take a sort of off-day. While Vinnie and Skipp were lounging and making the most of it, Stone couldn't help but feel morose.

Sure, they had enough food for a few days. But what happens after that? What would they do when they ran out and had to go back to their normal pattern? What if they couldn't get enough, and not even shoes could sustain them?

He'd usually just chug a bit of liquor to calm those thoughts, but it didn't seem to be doing much. Life felt…impossibly meaningless. Like no matter how hard they tried, the universe would continue to put them in their place at the very bottom.

Stone had a particular look when he got into those moods. His eyes seemed distant, he sighed more, and a bottle of some cheap, scavenged liquor was always nearby. 

While looking for some fabric to patch his newest jacket hole, Skipp noticed his friend's sullen attitude. It wasn't a rare sight, by any means, but it still worried him to see Stone so upset. 

“Hey…you alright, Stone? You seem kinda out of it.” Skipp kept a respectful distance, not knowing if his friend was in a touch-positive mood or not. He extended a hand to silently ask if touch was okay. Stone shrugged, taking a swig from his mystery bottle. 

“Aren’t we all? ‘re we ever really in it, or are we jus’ waitin’ for death to find us and put us in our final place?”

“Uh…okay?” Skipp patted the emotional man’s head before scooting away, going to find Vinnie. She would know what to do…probably.

Vinnie was lounging on one of their make-shift nests when Skipp found her. She groaned, stretching as she sat up from the pile of ratty blankets and coats.

“What is it now? Today’s supposed to be relaxing,” she whined, running a hand through her unruly hair. Skipp pointed to their drunken, miserable-looking friend. “Stone’s in a sad mood again.”

“Fuckin’...course he is. The one damn day we get off…” Vinnie grumbled, dramatically hauling herself completely out of her semi-comfortable nest. “He okay with touch?”

After the blonde nodded, she marched over to Stone, waving for him to do the same. Instead of greeting him, she straddled the dejected man, squeezing his hips.

“GRK- Vihihinnie! W-whahat the hehell?!” Stone dropped his bottle, hands flying to grab Vinnie’s wrists. He was drunk, though, so his fight wasn’t a very effective one.

Skipp blushed, his eyes widening. Vinnie’s fix was…tickling him? The optimistic guy never could handle watching tickle fights without getting flustered, but now…

It looked fun from both perspectives, and Stone was quite upset. He was pretty sure his mind would behave and let him wreck his friend for one.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re cheering you up!” Even though his cheeks were still rosy, Skipp joined in, spidering his short nails on Stone’s kneecaps. It would almost certainly come back to haunt him later, but he didn’t really mind; that was a sort of bonus.

“Yep. It’s too good of a day for that depressing bullshit. You need to learn how to smile, ya mopey shit.” Vinnie was a bit less sweet, but there was a kindness in her salty words. She really cared for Stone, even if he was a depressing asshole sometimes.

“Guhuhuys! Fuhuck ohohohoff!” Stone squirmed and twisted under Vinnie, feeling the four evil hands on him. He squeezed Vinnie’s wrists, though he wasn’t exactly trying to shove her off. This wasn't lost on his friends.

“Aww, you like this, don’t you?” Surprisingly, Skipp was the one to tease him. It wasn’t exactly meant to be one, but that’s what it felt like to the giggling man. He groaned through the happy sound, covering his face with one hand. 

“Holy shit, Skipp. I think you’re right!” Vinnie chuckled, though she already knew that was the case. It was hardly the first time she’d used the method to get Stone to quit moping, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. He needed to smile more.

“Wonder what happens if I go here…” Vinnie clawed at the back of Stone’s ribs, making him snort and start cackling. It was his worst spot, and she knew it. “Oh. That. How cute!”

Was that a bit mean? Maybe, yeah, but Stone seemed like he was writing gothic poetry that morning. The shithead needed to laugh that Ramshackle sadness off.

“’M NOHOHOT CUHUTE!” Stone was practically losing it at that point. Skipp had decided to move to the undersides of his knees. That combined with the backs of his ribs was almost more than he could handle. Almost.

“VIHIHINNY! GEHE’ OHOHOHOFF’A THEHEHERE!” Stone writhed, arching his back to try and avoid her fingers. He kicked his legs, but that was pretty much useless when she was on his thighs. Skipp had free reign of his lower body, and Vinnie was practically unstoppable up top.

“But I like it here! You look like Maggot with all that squirming, dude.” She mentioned their angelic friend, trying to get him blushing more. His cheeks were pink, but Vinnie wanted more. She knew how red he could get.

“Oh yeah, he does!” Out of Stone’s view, Skipp giggled, making Stone groan. That little ball of sunshine just had to comment on everything, didn’t he? Stone cared for him, of course; he just wanted to lovingly strangle him sometimes.

“You know what eats maggots, Stone?” He flipped the blonde off, but Skipp didn’t mind. The next few seconds would make up for that. “Jumping spiders!”

Skipp clawed his hands, switching spots every few seconds to spider each area on his legs. It was kinda dumb, but scientifically accurate. That, and it tickled like crazy.

“SKIHIHIHPP! IHIHI- PFFAHAHAHA!” All protests died, swallowed up in loud, throaty cackles. His nerves were practically on fire, his thoughts drowned out by his own laughter. It was finally too much.

“EHEHENOHOUGH!” Stone yelled through his mirth, patting Vinnie’s shoulder. She immediately pulled away, Skipp following suit. Vinnie climbed off, giving him a second. 

Stone immediately curled in on himself, turning into a giggly pill bug as he recovered. “F-fuhuhuck youhu guhuhuhuys…” 

Vinnie chuckled, used to his profanities. She knows they usually mean he had fun, but was still a bit salty. Skipp, however, was concerned they’d crossed a line. “Stone? Did we go too far?”

The man huffed, swallowing another bout of giggles. His composure was mostly back, the thin line of his lips showing a ghost of a smile. “Nah, yohou’re fine. Youhu suck, thohough.”

Rolling her eyes, Vinnie nudged the giggly man’s shoulder. “Ah, whatever. You were being a downer, and you know it.” 

Stone lovingly flipped her off and grumbled something under his breath. Skipp pulled both of them into a hug, and for once, Stone didn’t pull away. He’d never admit it, but the embrace felt nice at that moment.

“C’mon, guys. Let’s enjoy our day off!” Skipp’s attitude remained bright as ever. Stone opened his mouth to argue, but huffed and shook his head. 

“Fine. I’m taking Vinnie’s nest.” Stone sauntered over to the pile of cloth, smirking at Vinnie’s near-instant outrage.

“Hey! Get your own rags, Nevermore!” The two started playfully wrestling, fighting over the nest Skipp knew they’d end up sharing. He leaned against the wall of the slum alley, watching his friends and taking in the happiness they both now felt.

Yep. Perfect Ramshackle day off.

#ramshackle tickle #lee!stone #ler!skipp #ler!vinnie #ticklish!stone #sfw tickling community #tickle #tickle fic #ramshackle #sfw tickles

[ashesbreadandbutter]

Okay I got one that's kinda funnyish: Vox has always wanted to try this experiment but Alastor has never allowed-- What would happen if someone stabbed his head with an angelic knife? Like, he changes it out his heads out all the time, so it should be fine right? The first time he told Alastor this theory he had, Alastor knocked him out for three weeks. And when he woke up, Alastor made him promise (there was a deal involved that Vox wouldn't stab himself with an angelic knife) and so He didn't bring it up again. He brings it up with Valentino eventually, and Valentino agrees with him. It should be alright, but Vox doesn't trust Val to run Voxtech incase something does happen so he puts off the experiment until he finds Velvette and she makes Overlord status. She thinks about it when he brings it up, and tells him give her a few years and then test it out.

When Velvette finally gives the okay, it's around the time Alastor's finally healed from Adam's attack (not that the Vees know that) and Valentino's actually pretty excited. He gets to do an actual science experiment! He excitedly tells Angel Dust, as he let's him go early and heads upstairs.

Vox grins as Val picks up the angelic blade, and Velvette shakes her head "Okay, ready? Go!"

Valentino slams the blade into Vox's screen, and Vox *screams* agony shooting through him.

Valentino's eyes widen in shock as pain goes through him a few minutes later, a black tentacle tearing through his stomach.

Alastor appears, antlers scraping the ceiling as he gently pulls Vox to his chest, one arm protectively caging the whimpering media demon. Radio dial eyes set their sights on Valentino, hate gleaming in them as the Radio demon backs into the shadows taking an unconscious Vox with him.

I hope y'all know I really love these.

Writing Alastor plus his possessiveness over Vox? Yes?

To start, imagine Vox's surprise when the blade turns out to actually hurt a lot more than he originally thought it would. Val doing the stabbing would probably makes things worse like imagine Vox whimpering, pissed because Val did it before he was actually ready, refusing to listen like always.

Alastor punishing Val for such idiotic actions really heals my cold, dark heart. Bro needs to be handled and out of everyone they have he HAD to use the blade on Vox?

Honestly Alastor might be sure that without Vox the other two really are as dumb as a bag of rocks.

Like not killing both of em the second he sees them while Vox lays, tucked safely and comfortably in his arms is killing Alastor. He wants to handle them now but with Vox literally bleeding out he mustn't.

I do feel that with Velvet Alastor would probably kill her with no hesitation, the only reason she'd survive is if Vox someone convinced him too after he wakes but up but there's truly no saving Valentino. No matter what Vox tries to tell him Alastor always keeps an eye out for the next time he sees the moth demon.

Vox would honestly be torn at first? Like he's betrayed at the fact that they did such a thing without his health seemingly being thought of so it really manages to get to him which pisses Alastor off because he's literally right there? Why is Vox dwelling when he was here with him now? Honestly it's giving a bit yandere 👀

Angel probably accidentally mentioned it at the hotel and immediately after hearing it Alastor disappeared to go find the vees.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox x alastor #voxal #alastor x vox #vox #alastor #please commission me #writing commissions #i will write almost anythin #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #fanfic #fandom #writers of tumblr #headcanon #anon answered #send anons #anon ask #thanks anon! #anonymous

[sillygoose067]

Over the 7 Seas

Ch. 32

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Charles blearily blinks his eyes open, meaning to stretch his limbs when he feels a weight on his left side. He turns to relieve the weight there, finding you curled up under his arm, burrowed into his covers. Smiling, he spoons around you, breathing in your scent, now mixed with his, after using his body wash. He runs his fingers over your features, wondering how he got lucky enough to have you.

Feeling a ticklish sensation on your face, you flinch away, trying to escape with a whine when you hear a raspy chuckle near your ear, then a kiss on your forehead. 

“Morning, baby."

“Nooooooo. S’too early to wake up”, you moan. 

Your surroundings shake and you sit up in alarm thinking there was an earthquake, but look over your shoulder to see Charles’ body shaking in mirthless laughter. You harumph, crossing your arms, and turn around. 

“C’mon baby, Cheri, I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re so cute when you wake up”. 

This makes you turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Are you saying that I’m not cute any other time?”

He pulls you so that you’re lying on top of him now. You place your cheek on his bare chest. “Angel, you’re always cute to me”, and his fingers began to massage your scalp again. You start to drift off and he stops. 

“Nooooo, don’t stop. Feels good…”

He chuckles again and resumes. “Babe, you know I love you, and that there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend my morning with you like this. But I need to go to HQ to do some sims. The earlier I go, the earlier I can come home”. 

“Mmmmhhm”

“Please Cheri? You can stay here until I come back, and I can drop you back home tonight”.

“...Fine”, you give in reluctantly, the thought of leaving tonight sobering you up. You didn’t want to go back yet, but you had responsibilities, as did Charles.

…

You rummage through his cupboards and cabinets, looking for something to get into your boyfriend’s stomach before he leaves while said man is in the shower. What’s the purpose of having all this money if you can’t even stock up your kitchen, man, you mumble to yourself. I bet this dude doesn’t even eat breakfast, you tsk. I need to fill up these cupboards and make sure he eats all his meals properly. 

You manage to get some toast, eggs, and coffee going. At least he has an espresso machine.

You’re smothering your piece of toast with butter when Charles reappears, freshly showered, dressed in a dark blue crewneck and a pair of baggy jeans, taking a seat on the stool in front of you. “Wow, did you make us breakfast? Thanks love.”

You scoff. “If this is what you call breakfast, you’ve got problems. We need to fill up these cabinets of yours, make them useful.”

He hums as he scarfed down the toast and eggs, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gets up to leave. “Feel free to look around while I’m gone. If you need anything, just give me a call. I should be home after lunch.”

“Bye, love you.”

“Love you, babe.” You watch as he steps out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. 

…

You get dressed (in last night’s clothes, because of course, you didn’t plan far ahead enough, and the need to fill your boyfriend’s kitchen won over your mortification) and make your way downtown to the local grocery store. As you roamed through the aisles, you picked up a couple of fruits to leave on his island counter, some vegetables, eggs, milk, bread, and other necessities to keep him stocked up and healthy. Lord knows how he survived so far with barely any sustenance and his strict dietary protocols. 

By the time you return to the apartment, it’s nearly lunchtime, so you cook something up, making it in extras just in case Charles shows up. Lo and behold, you hear the doorknob jiggle while you’re steaming some rice. 

“Hi!”, you chirp.

He kicks his shoes off, and approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Hello love, you certainly seem more chipper than this morning. What’s up?”

“Nothing”, you grin up at him, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “I hope I didn’t overstep, but I took the liberty of filling your pantry and fridge”. You shrug, feigning indifference. 

He parts from you and rummages around his kitchen, peeking his head into every one of the cabinets and the fridge. The silence is nearly overwhelming, and you let go of the breath you were holding, twisting your fingers and beginning an apology. “I’m sorry Char–” And then suddenly, you’re being crushed to a firm chest. 

“I love you so much it hurts. You need to stop being so sweet to me, Y/n, or I might die of it”, he whispers into your hair. You smile, relieved, and grip his arms, pulling away to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t mind?”

“Sweetheart, if I recall correctly, I told you to make yourself at home last night. That’s all you’ve done here. How could I ever mind?”

“I mean, I wasn’t sure if you’d like me to go snooping around your kitchen– And what if you were leaving everything empty on purpose?”

He snorts. “For what? My trophies? Baby, you don’t need to overthink everything you do so much. Not anymore, a least not around me, alright?”

“M’kay”, you sigh in resigned relief. 

“Now, what’s for lunch? I haven’t had a homecooked meal in ages.”

You smack his chest. “You literally had dinner made by Pascale last night.”

“Ow! I meant other than that.”

You enjoy a hearty meal together on Charles’ sofa, laughing and discussing each other’s day and plans for the evening. 

If this is what love feels like, I want this forever.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #fluff #smut #f1 #formula 1

[dark-elf-writes]

Harry running to Japan because it is the safest place for him.

Kingsley watching this child who was melded into a soldier in the holding cell, holding his baby close to him, waiting for a trial after losing control. There is .very little chance of Harry getting out of this alive

(Someone tried to take his baby. What was he supposed to do? He doesn’t know.)

He makes a choice, and unlocks the cell. Harry runs.

Harry being broken into his apartment by Hermione and Ron, frantically packing his bags, and taking the portkey to Japan. There is no time for goodbyes.

Him running to the bad parts, so he doesn’t get discovered by the Japanese aurors, and having to fight to keep his kid alive.

He gets a job and food through shady back alley deals, and jobs willing to hire a 17 year old who hasn’t been to proper school since he was 10. One thing about quirks, there are so many people that drop out of school due to their quirk and go into the streets.

Sure they don’t really have a roof over their head some nights. Sure Teddy is wearing one diaper that Harry is just cleaning over and over again. But they have each other, and that’s enough.

Aizawa seeing this *kid*, whose quirk doesn’t stop with his, and his kid with the strongest quirk he ever seen on a newborn. He makes it his mission to get him into UA.

Namdnsnsnsnsbsbnssb screaming about this

Harry who was turned into a soldier, into a killer, when he was still young. Who took his first life at eleven and had to keep going. Who was famous for killing the same man twice. Who never had the space to process the blood on his hands much less get real help for it. His friends tried, the shattered little family they had built tried, but they were not trained professionals. Most of them had never heard of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder much less what it could do to someone, but still they tried.

But everyone knew Teddy Lupin was Harry’s whole world from the moment he had laid eyes on him after the battle. The entire wizarding world knew that Harry Potter, The Man Who Conquered, was fully devoted to his child in a way he had never been to anything else.

Still they were surprised to see what lines a trained killer would cross when they tried to take his world from him. The lengths he would go to save his child when from the age of eleven he had blood and ash on his hands.

Harry… didn’t remember much of the attack. Didn’t remember how his magic had burst from him the moment he felt someone try to take Teddy from him. Didn’t remember the second wave of power when the aurors tried to take him down and made the mistake of getting a bit too close to Teddy with their wands drawn.

He did remember waking up in the cell with Teddy still clutched in his arms and Kingsley looking at him through the bars.

“Minis-“

“I’m not here officially, Harry.” Kingsley cut him off with sorrow in his eyes. “I’m not here as an order member, either. I’m here as your friend.”

Harry didn’t understand at the time, but he didn’t step back when Kingsley unlocked the cell door. He trusted Kingsley. He wouldn’t hurt Teddy.

“Run fast and run far, Harry Potter,” Kingsley said the words like a prayer. “We never deserved you.”

And Harry ran.

He took the bag a tearful Hermione pressed into his hand, let Ron press a wet kiss to his forehead, and grabbed the portkey that would take him and Teddy far far away. He kept his head down and kept moving where he could. He barely slept. He stole and fought to make sure they had food. He took any job that would take him as long as he deemed it safe enough for Teddy to be around. He transfigured the same three pairs of clothes so no one questioned why they always wore the same thing.

He survived.

Alone. He was so alone other than Teddy, but his child was safe. And that was all that mattered really.

The vigilante justice thing hadn’t been a part of his plan. He couldn’t turn the saving people thing off even now. Merlin, it was probably worse now with how his magic writhed in him like a living thing. He couldn’t pretend not to see the crime around the when the very same could come to his and Teddy’s door. He had to protect his baby. Had to protect the last family he had. Anything to protect Teddy and help those who needed it.

That… didn’t mean he knew what to do when a vaguely familiar man (one of the local underground heroes?) started stalking him on his nightly patrols. With Teddy watched over by Kreature in whatever abandoned building the two of them had charmed into a house for the night Harry had started to go out lore and more. Needing to lose some the eager edge of his magic ever since the attack.

He knew even less of what to do when the man watched him, unblinking, as he set down a package of diapers (exactly the size Teddy was in now) before swinging up to the rooftops.

Harry took the diapers, barely acknowledged the eyes that followed him from whatever job would take him back home then out on his patrols, and kept moving.

“You never stop running, do you kid?” The hero asked one night when he found Harry poised on the edge of a rooftop, ready to apparate out in a moment’s notice.

“I can’t.” Harry said, hating how his voice cracked on the last word. “It’s all I know.”

The hero tipped his head to the side, watching, always watching behind those weird goggles. “I’m a teacher at UA.” Harry had heard of it. It was rather impossible not to. “We can protect you and the kid.”

Harry bared his teeth, his magic making both of their hair stand on end as it built between them. A warning. the calm before the storm. “I’ve heard that before. I won’t let you take him from me!”

“We’re not going to.” The hero didnt look away. Harry doubted he blinked. “I’ve seen how you are with them, kid. You’re a good parent in a bad situation, but someone will eventually try to take him if you keep on as you are.”

The snarl that ripped from Harry’s chest would have put Greyback to shame, but he didn’t attack, didn’t loose the leash he had on his magic. (He was a soldier. A killer. But he had rules. And the hero had helped them.) “He is my baby.”

The hero tipped his head in a nod. “Then protect him, kid. Give him a home and get a degree so you can get a real job to take care of him. Doesn’t he deserve better than this?”

Harry didn’t answer, instead disappearing with a crack loud enough that it set off a few car alarms, but he didn’t attack either.

Eraserhead took that as progress.

#the elf talks #mha #bnha #harry potter #feral teen mom Harry is a vibe tbh #a new au approaches? #could definitely see Harry knowing about Dabi and toga in this one

[agirlandhermew]

Finale: Epilogue

No tws this time! Only light angst and fluff!

Saber waited by the side of the road. When the car came to a stop and Hanayo stepped out, Saber approached her and nodded.

"Hanayo. How did it go?"

"It went well! I helped her to move on.... and then I came back, of course. Hehe, I guess that I can't stay away for too long!" Hanayo said.

"I knew it." Saber smiled and took Hanayo's hand, and the two of them got back on the bus together. Watching the landscape go by, Saber realized just how much she had craved the peace and quiet of a life without constant danger. And now it was finally happening.

When the bus came to a stop, Saber and Hanayo stepped out immediately and went into the house where Amalia was staying.

Saber hugged Amalia and cried, happy that she was alive, and Hanayo purred and held Amalia's hand.

Next, the two of them went to see Silver. As it turned out, he had survived the attack and was alive, although he would need to stay in bed for a while. Saber fell asleep cuddling him for a while. Silver stroked her hair. Both siblings had tears in their eyes.

After that, Saber and Hanayo went to sit down in the nearby park. They sat back to back on a bench. Neither of them said a word. They didn't need to.

It had been a shock to Saber when Oyamatsumi had turned about to be Hanayo's next "destiny", and the ghost girl had freed Hanayo from her contract. Although it had taken away Hanayo's immortality, both girls were relieved. To know that someday, when it was their time, they would go together.

And after that.... Oyamatsumi had finally let herself move on. At peace with her completed task of protecting Saber, she had decided to stop being a ghost and let herself disappear for good.

The sky was turning orange from the sunset by the time Saber and Hanayo reached their home in Unova. When they went into the forest behind their house while waiting to meet up with Ophelia, Beckett, Master Kagemichi, and Lyra, Hanayo pushed Saber into the river. Saber laughed as the two began splashing each other. They continued until they both grew tired, then lay back in the shallow water, both still giggling.

Saber reached for Hanayo's hand, who took it in hers as they watched the sky above them. Finally Saber stood and helped Hanayo up, and they went to go meet the others. Tonight, there would be an after-battle celebration. After all, everyone who had fought deserved it.

Ophelia laughed as she saw them. "Hey, guys! Guess what? Master Kagemichi's adopting me! And I'm gonna start my career early, too! I'm gonna open up my own little mochi stand!"

Hanayo smiled. "That's great!"

Kagemichi placed his hands on Ophelia's shoulders. "I know she'll be good at it. She can do anything, especially when it comes to making sweets."

Ophelia hugged her new father as Beckett teased her. "If you can run it. You know how you get when you're stressed!"

"Hey!" Ophelia smacked his arm. The two of them began bickering playfully.

Lyra hugged Saber. "I wanna see Silver again. As soon as possible. And to tell him.... how much I love him."

Saber nodded and squeezed Lyra's hands. "And you will. I promise. And.... I think he knows."

Lyra nodded, her eyes shining brightly, and she skipped off to follow Master Kagemichi, who was rolling his eyes as he carefully followed Ophelia and Beckett, who were still yelling and laughing at each other.

For a moment, Saber stayed behind. "Hanayo.... you with me?"

Hanayo nodded firmly, once again taking Saber's hand. "Always. No matter what."

The two girls looked at each other. Not saying a word, but it was clear what was reflected in each of their eyes: I love you.

They must have been staring for a minute, because Ophelia called back at them. "Hey, guys, c'mon! You don't wanna miss the mochi!"

Saber looked at Hanayo, mildly annoyed, and they both laughed.

They held hands as they walked off into the sunset, never for a second doubting their place, either one of them. Because here together, with each other and their found family.... they were finally home.

THE END.

#rotumblr #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #pokemon #pokemon rp #pkmn rp #pkmn irl #pokeblog rp #rotomblr #pokeblog irl #ooc post #finale #epilogue

[calinaannehart]

the parts we play

Buck isn’t a firefighter, he just plays one on TV, or at least that’s what he’s about to do. He’s offered the chance to shadow the 118 to learn what it’s like to be a firefighter. Eddie is fed up with these Hollywood types turning up and feigning interest in the job that he loves. Buck, however, is nothing like that and everyone can see the connection they have.

Eddie’s day is ruined.

“You can’t be serious, Cap?” He protests, looking at Bobby imploringly. “You do remember what happened the last time Hollywood sent an actor who wanted to play dress up?”

Six months after Eddie had said goodbye to her on the beach Felisa Valdez had waltzed into the firehouse, publicist hot on her heels with an announcement that she was to shadow the 118 in preparation for a future role. The call from the chief had come a few minutes after her arrival confirming her visit and instructing Bobby to allow her out on calls to observe what the job entails.

It was argued, given the 118 had attended no less than four emergency calls in which they had rescued her from one situation or another, that Felisa was already more than familiar with the workings of a fire crew. Her publicist, however, countered that she was a victim on each of the calls and therefore needed to be the one in uniform. Bobby had drawn the line at that, but Felisa was given a seat on the engine and she observed them while they worked, albeit a little too closely at times.

The publicist had taken a near-constant stream of photographs for the duration of Felisa’s three-day visit, photos of her with the crew, photos of her being shown pieces of equipment, manning a hose, sliding down the pole, donning a helmet. In every one her hair had been perfect, her outfit on the tighter side and a pose that was unrealistic to the job at hand, but were posted all over her social media, tagging each of them at the official LAFD account.

Still, they had all survived the three days with no injuries and their dignity somewhat intact.

That was until the movie came out.

It turned out to be a low-budget B-movie, so low in budget that it bypassed the theatres completely and was released directly to TV. Felisa had excitedly called Eddie with the channel info and the date and time it would be on which had ended up being during a 24-hour shift. They had settled in to watch at eleven o’clock in the evening and that should have been their clue.

Felisa’s movie turned out to be, essentially, a very badly written and directed (and acted) softcore porno set in a fire station. Bobby had flushed and made a hasty exit to his office just fifteen minutes in when the first sex scene started, muttering about damage control and calling the chief.

“I do, and I was promised that wouldn’t happen again,” Bobby tells him, his tone placating. “Brass themselves have gone over the script and they’ve talked with the production team. It’s a big multi-million dollar movie this time with some big names attached to it.”

“Like who?” Chimney mumbles around a mouthful of celery and peanut butter, dipping the stick back in for another scoop. Pulling out his phone Bobby thumbs open the screen and scans his eyes over the email he had received with all the information.

“Todd Fame, Kelli Edwards, and Evan Buckley.” 

“No way, Evan Buckley?” Excitement fills Chim’s face and he sets the jar of peanut butter down on the counter. “Man, he’s done some good stuff, Time Wars, Echoes of the Past, Midnight Mirage, oh, and that rom-com that came out last year, Tatiana loved it. Are we getting him? That would earn me some serious boyfriend points.”

A silence fills the space after Chimney’s ramble, half a dozen amused faces staring at him. “Boy crush much?” Hen asks sardonically, a wave of sniggers following her words. “Isn’t he the one gossip magazines are always publishing articles on? I’m sure I’ve seen one about him having slept with half of Hollywood and constantly getting in bar fights.”

Bobby quirks an eyebrow at her. “Since when do you read gossip magazines?”

“Karen’s always picking them up when she gets the groceries,” Hen explains. “But my point is that maybe Eddie’s right, I mean, do we really want another Felisa incident?”

“Come on, Hen, those magazines are trash, there’s probably not an inch of truth in them,” Chim says, prompting another eye roll from his partner. “All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t judge him before we meet him, he’s a really good actor, okay? I’m not ashamed to admit he’s made me cry more than a few times.” Chim admits freely.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of opportunities to tell him that,” Bobby continues. “He’s coming by this afternoon to sign some personal injury waivers and then will join us for our next run of shifts.”

Chim all but dances on the spot as he whips out his phone. “I can’t believe I’m gonna meet Evan Buckley, I gotta call Tatiana, this is so gonna get me laid!”

“Eddie, I want you to be his liaison while he’s here,” Eddie’s attention snaps back to his captain.

“What? Why me?” Eddie protests. “Let Chim do it.” He points to the man talking animatedly on his phone.

“The last thing this guy needs is someone fawning all over him, you’ll treat him just like everybody else, and most importantly you’ll watch his back.”

“Watch his…Bobby, you’re not seriously going to let him out on calls with us, are you?” Eddie’s expression matches his flabbergasted words.

“I am, that’s why he’s coming in to sign the waivers. He needs hands-on experience, Eddie, and you’re the one I trust to keep him safe,” Bobby lays a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, leveling him with a look. 

“I just hate these Hollywood types turning up and feigning interest in the job that I love for a few days just to earn a billion-dollar paycheck,” Eddie grumbles. “They don’t care, Bobby, it’s just a game to them.”

“All you have to do is talk to him about the job, share some of your experience. It’s just for a few weeks and then he’ll be gone.”

Eddie sighs. “You promise?” He asks, sounding too reminiscent of a petulant child and Bobby just chuckles.

“I promise,” He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder before stepping away in the direction of the mezzanine, no doubt to start breakfast. “Hey, you never know, you might end up real close.”

read on ao3

#911 #911 fanfiction #911 on abc #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie díaz #fanfiction

[newwillinium]

The Great Khans and the Tribes of Zion/Honest Hearts

So I noticed this a few nights ago when I was trying to decide what route to go for my newest Fallout New Vegas character, and I noted something that I don't think many people have really ever clicked on.

-][-

The Great Khans, in Fallout New Vegas, are written as stand-ins for Native Americans.

Hear me out.

They are a people who have been pushed east out of their ancestral homelands time and time again, later finding a home for themselves in the Mojave. They warred with other native tribes, Mr House and what would become the Families, and then later were subject to a brutal attack on their civilians which led them to be stuck on land that was their own but was sparse in resources and are unable to meaningfully fight back against the rising Imperialistic powers of Mr House and the NCR (President Aaron Kimball later referencing and using the same "Sea to Shining Sea" rhetoric as the United States did during the Great Western Expansion, at Hoover Dam).

But what really clicked this for me was that, in the NCR ending where the Great Khans ally with the New California Republic, they are once more kicked off of their land and are sent off to a far off distant Reservation.

After the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the Great Khans returned for a time to Red Rock Canyon. The NCR's pressing need to expand proved greater than its promise of amnesty, and before long the government decided the Khans had to go. The surviving Great Khans were relocated to an isolated, barren reservation, well north of NCR trade routes

Sounds really familiar right?

And looking at the Great Khans within this context, really reframes the context of their raiding and deep bitter anger that the Elder Khans like Papa Khan and Oscar have against the NCR.

Colonization is an ugly brutal thing, and it is also a complex one.

Like the Great Khans in New Vegas, many Native American tribes ending up raiding American citizens as a way to fight back, to strike against a rising imperialistic threat that was eager and willing to grind them against their heel, to kill their culture and bring all under the American Empire.

They fought, raided, begged, pleaded, sent letters to congress, lobbied Congress and the President and the Director of Indian Affairs, even as the infinitely more wealthy and powerful United States (even just off of the weary years of Civil War) did little to nothing to step the Westward push and actively allowed it's military to perform as it may on and off orders to get the natives off of land that had once been promised to them but was now deemed too valuable for a mere treaty to hold any sway.

And to bring this back to the actual conversation I want to have, is that I wanted to state this realization of mind in order to contrast it with another example from the exact same game.

The Dead Horses, Sorrows, and White-Legs of Honest Hearts.

Where as the Great Khans are treated with a kind of weary respect, of a people crushed beneath the wheels of a infinitely more powerful empire, struggling to find hope in a FUTURE for their people and culture, the Dead Horses and Sorrows and White-Legs are. . .honestly written with far less respect in my eyes.

The Sorrows are being actively converted by a White Savior in Daniel, who sees it as his burden to show these "innocent savages" the true faith and demands that they give up their home so that they are not "tainted" by the harshness of reality. Where they have no other visible leaders then this Foreign Priest calling their faith and interpretation of his teachings through their own cultural lens as wrong-headed.

Where Joshua Graham, the butcher who helped Caesar commit cultural genocide on dozens of tribes alone, is elected War Leader by the Dead Horses and in some endings becomes worshiped by them. Even he warns Follows-Chalk to stay in Zion lest he be corrupted by the dangers of the wider wasteland.

Now you sound like Joshua. He always tells me the tribal life is better, that I should stay here and forget the outside world.

And the White-Legs are treated as nothing but a people wholly existing of hate that deserve to be destroyed because they have been fooled by Ulysses and Caesar. Never humanized, never given a chance to learn the truth for themselves, they are written and treated almost like generic Orcs in many fantasy settings. No matter what this tribe and people are consigned to doom and slaughter.

-][-

And I say all this because I find it deeply weird how disparate these ideas and depictions are between the main game of New Vegas and it's Honest Hearts DLC.

Why are the Great Khans given so much dignity and pathos, when the Honest Hearts tribes feel almost like caricatures?

Why is Honest Hearts the way it is? And why is the writing so disparate between the two sections of the game?

#fallout #fallout new vegas #great khans #honest hearts #fonv #fallout nv #new vegas #discussion #comments welcome