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thevoidstaredback · 18 hours

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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Waking up to a clean apartment was not what Dick was expecting at all. It was a nice surprise, for sure, but it begged the question as to how long he was asleep for. His phone said that it was the same day, only two hours later, but that state of the apartment suggested it had been at least a day!

He poked his head into the room he'd given Danny to stay in. The kid had ignored the bed almost completely, it seemed, and curled up in the corner furthest from the door with the blanket and his bag. He closed the door softly as he left the room. He hated that Danny didn't feel safe enough to sleep on the bed, but he understood the need to have his back to a corner.

Dick took one look at the shopping list on the counter before opening his fridge. Immediately, he closed it again. The rancid stench of spoiled milk and other foodstuffs seeped into the open room, making Dick rush to open the windows. He added candles and Febreeze to the shopping list. With his pay, he should have more than enough to get everything written down, as well as some things for Danny.

Would Danny want to go to school? Or would he want to take online courses? What grade would he even be in? There was nothing about any of that in the cover story the kid had made up. Did he just not think about it, or had he deemed it unimportant? Either way, Dick would bring it up with him in a little bit. For now, shopping. The kid had done a hell of a job with cleaning up, so it was only natural that Dick would pull his weight in his own apartment.

Making sure to leave a note, Dick locked the door behind himself as he headed down, mentally adding fridge magnets to the shopping list, too.

***

Stepping back into the apartment was like walking into someone else's home. The place looked no different than when he'd left earlier, but it was only just now settling that he now had someone to take care of. Dick was no longer alone in this apartment. He had someone to look out for, someone who was looking out for him.

And how pathetic was that? A child was having to take care of him. He's an adult! He should be able to take care of himself! But, here he is, hopeless. He hadn't even bothered to get off his ass and go shopping or clean up a little bit until a kid knocked on his door and spelled everything out for him in blue glitter pen.

Dick set down the six bags he was carrying on the counter. He completely emptied out the fridge and freezer, throwing it all away. It all had to go. The smell would linger for a little bit, but it wouldn't ever get that bad again, especially now that the stuff causing it was all gone. He quickly put everything away before picking up his phone.

He hadn't called the Manor in a while. Not since- not since Jason died...

He shook his head, scolding himself for letting irrational fear and anger get in the way of contacting the only family he had left, and called Wayne Manor.

After exactly two and a half rings, the line picked up. "Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth speaking."

"Hey, Alfie," Dick knew he sounded pathetic.

There was..something on the other end that Dick couldn't quite pick up before Alfred spoke, formalities dropped and a smile in his voice. "Master Dick, how good to hear from you. It has been a while."

He leaned against the counter, sagging a bit. "Yeah, it has been. I'm sorry, Alfred, I just-"

"No need to apologize, Master Dick, I completely understand."

Did he? Maybe. "That's- Thank you, Alfred, really, but I didn't really call to apologize."

"Oh?" There was another sound in the background, a little closer to the phone, but not close or loud enough to be clearly picked up. "What seems to be the issue, then?"

"I, um," God, how was he going to explain this? "A kid showed up at my door, um, and offered to help me out? I-I couldn't say no to him, Alfe, but- I don't! I-I don't know how to take care of a kid!" The floodgates seemed to open with that as he sank to the floor, his back against the wall. "I can barely take care of myself, let alone a whole other person! But I can't put him back on the streets, Alfred, I just can't. And the things he's been telling me- He's not had an okay life, Alfred. I don't- I don't know what to do."

It was quiet for a moment before Alfred let out a small breath. "You, too?"

"Huh?"

THe question was ignored. "Take a deep breath for me, Master Dick." He did. "Good. This child, how old is he?"

"I don't know, about fourteen?"

A click of his tongue. "Taking care of a child is going to look different for everyone, especially if they've never had to care for anyone but themselves before. From what I understand, he has come to you for safety. He has nowhere else to go, yes?"

"Well, yeah, other than the streets, but I'm not sending him back out there-!"

"I'm not telling you to. If he came to you, he will leave of his own accord. It is your job to make sure he knows he can stay and that he is safe with you."

"I know that, but-"

"Do you have food in your house?"

"I- What? Yeah, I just got back from shopping."

"Good. Is your house clean?"

"Yeah, he, um, the kid cleaned up the place while I was asleep."

"Alright. Does he have a place to sleep?"

"Yeah, I gave him my spare room. What does this-?"

"Then the only thing left for you to do is to make sure he knows he's allowed to be comfortable there. Make sure he knows that it is a safe space for him and that he can stay as long as he likes. From the sounds of it, he intends to take care of you just as you intend to take care of him. Find a middle ground, set up some house rules, go at a pace that works for the both of you. You two will grow into a routine that fits for you in time. And it will take time. Bonds do not grow overnight, especially ones that are meant to last. It will be hard, but that is what makes it worth it."

Dick was quiet for a minute. Alfred let him gather his thoughts, not hanging up and simply waiting. Finally, "Thanks, Alfred."

"You are most welcome, Master Dick." The old man was smiling again. "Oh, aster Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"When you two are more comfortable, please come by the Manor."

Dick smiled, too. "I will. And I'll try to call more often."

"That's all I ask. Have a good day, Master Dick.

"Thanks, Alfred, you, too."

Part 5

Tag List: @flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581 @blueliac @talia-scar123 @cyber-geist @violet-foxe @currentfandomkick

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jellybeanium124 · 2 days

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Helpful lists of questions for goyim when it comes to engaging with the Israel-Hamas war 🙂

QUESTIONS TO ASK YOURSELF WHEN A POST ABOUT THE ISRAEL-HAMAS WAR CROSSES YOUR DASH AND YOU WANT TO REBLOG IT:

Does this post link to a source?

If the post does link to a source, is it a credible one?

If the post does not link to a source, is there one screenshotted in the post that you can find? If so, please search out that source and read the entire thing in context. And make sure the source is credible. Ideally, if you decide to reblog it, add a link to the source.

Is the post just screenshots of tweets? If so, you probably should not reblog this. Posts that are just screenshots of tweets are a massive red flag. Do not believe something because it's a twitter screenshot. Frankly this rule is for everyone about everything all the time.

What is the tone of the post? Does it make you angry? If yes, this is a red flag. Exercise caution reblogging.

Does the post frame Israel as a uniquely evil country in need of destruction? Does the post treat Israel with different standards than those that are applied to every other country that has done horrible, horrible things, such as Russia, the UK, or United States? This is a red flag. If the government of Israel falls without some sort of transition plan, there will be Jewish genocide. Anyone advocating for a one-state solution either way is advocating for one group to get genocided. A two-state solution is the only possible peaceful end to this conflict (technically my opinion but I feel comfy stating it as fact).

Does the post treat Hamas as anything other than a terrorist organization? Do not reblog.

Is the post promoting Jewish Voice for Peace/JVP? Do not reblog. That organization is not Jewish and is antisemitic.

What is the focus of the content of the post? Is the post discussing reasonable paths to a ceasefire/peace? Is the post criticizing Israel's actions without using antisemitic stereotypes? Netanyahu is a disgusting fascist who I hate, but even though he is a terrible person you are not allowed to portray him as an antisemitic caricature. Similar to how you don't get to misgender shitty trans people, you don't get to be antisemitic towards shitty Jewish people (even if he's really, really shitty).

How does the post use the word "zionist?" Does the word have any coherent meaning in the post besides "person (often Jew) that I hate?" Does it treat zionists as a group of people who are disgusting and deserve to be murdered and/or raped? Does the use of the word "zionist" completely dehumanize the person/people the label is applied to into nothing more than evil that the Earth must be rid of? This is antisemitic. Do not reblog.

QUESTIONS TO ASK YOURSELF WHEN YOU'RE AT A PRO-PALESTINE PROTEST:

Are people chanting antisemitic slogans such as "globalize the intifada" and/or "from the river to the sea" (these are both antisemitic you cannot remove the antisemitic meaning from them, they are both advocating for the murder of Jewish people, sorry, stop using them.)?

Are people comparing themselves to Palestinians in Gaza? (this is not a joke, I saw a video of a Columbia student who compared Columbia sending out fliers to leave or be suspended to the IDF dropping flyers in Gaza saying "the army is coming in 24 hours.") If so, they care more about fetishizing Palestinian pain and making themselves feel like noble victims than the Israel-Palestine conflict.

Are people harassing Jews? This includes: preventing them from getting to class, yelling things at them like "go back to Poland," and/or physically assaulting them.

Are people defacing Jewish property/monuments? Are people defacing synagogues? Businesses with known Jewish owners? Statues and/or memorials of/for Jews?

What is the purpose of this protest? Would you feel comfortable sharing opinions that differ from the majority? Would you feel comfortable engaging in a conversation about this issue with fellow protesters? Are any of you actually educated on the complicated and lengthy history of the Israel-Palestine conflict? Is the protest about a peaceful solution, or is it just making you angrier and/or more upset? Does the protest/your fellow protestors care more about freeing Palestine so that Palestinians and Israelis can live in peace, or about hating Israel and treating it like a uniquely evil country?

If people are chanting antisemitic slogans, harassing Jews, and/or defacing Jewish things, then this is an antisemitic protest. Do you want to be associated with these people and this protest? If your answer is yes, you are an antisemite-sympathizer, which is basically an antisemite.

MORAL OF THE STORY: antisemitism is all over this issue and it's easy to get more antisemitic and spread antisemitism because bad actors use this issue to indoctrinate people who start off just genuinely caring about the issue but are not educated at all about it or what antisemitism actually looks like. BE CAREFUL. All Jews want, all we've ever wanted, is to be left alone to do our thing. Random Jews are not at fault for the horrific actions taken by the Israeli government since the terrorist attack on October 7th. We support the existence of Israel, but we do not support all of the current government's actions. We are just trying to live. We want there to be a ceasefire now. If you actually read this whole thing, thank you. It means a lot to be listened to.

For those of you that made it to the end, I'll offer one last reminder and one last gentle suggestion.

My last reminder is: "it is not your job to finish the work by neither are you free to ignore it" is a Jewish passage I really like. I think in times like these, it is important to focus on the first half. It is not your job to finish the work. The fate of Palestine does not rest on your shoulders. It's ok. Take time to decompress and log off.

My last suggestion is: one of the biggest Jewish values is "tikkun olam," which means "repairing the world." I think all action when it comes to this conflict (and life in general) should be done with tikkun olam in mind. It doesn't hurt to ask yourself "is this action repairing the world, or further tearing it apart?" no matter what you're doing. Thank you for reading.

#jumblr

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euphorianz · 2 days

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Hi could I request yandere poly romantic, the Bridgerton brothers Anthony Colin Benedict headcannons x gender neutral reader, please and could you add a few quotes of what they would say please and thank you. 🥰😊❤️

❥Bridgerton brothers as obsessed partners

Pairings_ Anthony, Colin, Benedict x reader

possible triggers_ isolation, obsessive behavior, poly like relations

a/n_ thanks for requesting and your patience! I really like this concept and I hope you will too. This obviously has no sibling love in this so anyone who’s upset about this concept for that reason, there’s no need to worry. Please refer to the master list to understand the concept. Anyway feedback is welcome and wanted.

-the three of them are a terrifying combination. Not only do you have to deal with stalking, outbursts, and suffocating affection. You have three of the most influential men at the of the ton pining for your hand...

-at the start, I dont think either of them would be aware that they all have feelings for you. But when they do things become more of a game. All of them want your hand and they will do anything to gain it. Colin writes letters. Benedict flatters with witty remarks and portraits. Anthony splurges.

-separate from their archetypes in the other concepts, the Bridgerton brothers view you as a prize more than anything. Something to be won. Something to be savored and kept. It won't be until another rival shows that the three will work together. All are scary protective of you and will quickly swoop in if any possible sutor comes too close

-I feel as though at first they will present themselves as your friends. They'll be the ones to invite you to balls, spend time with you in the park, and invite you to family games. if possible, they want you to feel as though you can trust them. It's a total wolf in sheep's clothing thing. They want you to integrate into their life and the people most close to them know you.

-Things are horrible for you if you don't compile though. As a group, they would decide on humiliation to get you to come to them. Whether that be insulting your character or your family's name. They will find a way to drag you down to the point where you are crawling to them. "Aww, feeling friendly now are we?"

-marriage is completely out of the question for your dynamic (and the ton's social climate) with the brothers so you're more of a permanent house guest. Each brother will insist on spending one-on-one time with you and will throw a fit if they thinks one brother had one second longer than they did. So you will consequently be playing mediator making sure you give each brother the attention they want.

-with Colin he prefers to just hold you. I can just imagine him burying his nose in the crook of your neck for hours on end and being totally content. He just wants to bask in your presence and spend time with you :( He wants to take you across Europe but he's too paranoid for that so he'll just settle for taking you around the grounds on his horse while he whispers sweet nothing in your ear. "How does riding for the day sound... just you.. and me... all alone."

-Benedict is a whole different monster. He prides himself on being an artist so everything in his love language is centered around that ideal. You're his muse. his Mona Lisa to his da Vinci. The Juliet to his Romeo. He's just as clingy as Colin, but somewhat worse in a way. He'll have you pose for hours while muttering words of praise. He spends all of his time admiring you. He wants to feel you and crawl into your skin so the two of you can be one. He's poetic that way. "Sh- sh.. Hah- ha ha.. Now, now, don't move darling, you look so perfect at that angle."

-Now Anthony. He's strict when it comes to you. Always wanting you to say and do things in a certain way. He’s the most levelheaded out of the three but also the most isolating. He wants you by his side always and is completely bossy. Want to gaze out at the garden? no, you might catch the eye of another. Do you want to cut your own meat? no, you might choke so the servants must do it. The only word that truly describes him in this scenario is protective. "There's no need to move darling, I have everything covered."

-they all bring out the worst in each other but also weirdly they keep each other in check. You're way less likely to be yelled at or endure any extreme outburst from any of the brothers simply because the others will swoop in and shelter you. Competition is still present in your guy's relationship but when they are operating with each other is more harmless, like impressing you in family games, or seeing who can find the dress you'll like best. You basically just have three very unstable guard dogs at your side who will do anything, but let you leave, for you.

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #yandere bridgerton #anthony x reader #dark anthony bridgerton #yandere anthony #yandere anthony x reader #yandere colin bridgerton x reader #yandere colin #colin x reader #yandere benedict x reader #dark benedict bridgeton #benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #yandere benedict briderton

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guardian-angle22 · 2 days

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Happy to present to y'all this 911LS fic list for stories related to one of my favorite episodes 3.13 Riddle of the Sphynx! I try to make these as comprehensive as possible, so if you have any you think I missed, let me know so I can add them. (I also might make edits to these posts to add more fics as they get written. If I ever do so I'll be sure to reblog the post for visibility!)

Enjoy all of our amazing fandom writers and leave them some comments & love!

[Disclaimers: • If you're an author and don't like to be tagged or linked for any reason, let me know and I'll remove the tag and make sure not to do so in the future, no questions asked. • I usually post TWs in rec lists. Due to the episode subject matter, assume all of these have a TW for discussion of addiction/drug use and possibly discussion of parent death/grief.]

◆ Chasers by @carlos-in-glasses (Words: 13.4K; Rating: E)

After 3x13 – while TK is alone with Cooper, Carlos is alone with his thoughts. Both recall times they’ve chased the next high, other men, or each other. When Carlos arrives home, TK still has something important to say – and it's something he didn’t tell Cooper.

◆ trying my best by @reyescarlos (Words: 10.3K; Rating: M)

An exploration of TK's sobriety journey from 2017 to now. Or, a season 3 coda spanning 3x08-3x13

◆ You Showed me How it feels to Truly be Seen by @ramblingdisaster73 (Words: 3K; Rating: T)

Carlos works through the events of 3x13 "The Riddle of the Sphinx".

◆ Measure of a Man by @chicgeekgirl89 (Words: 1.8K; Rating: T)

“I want to be everything you need. That I can’t be, it hurts, T.K. It feels like a failure on my part. And as much as I’m trying to accept it, it’s hard.” A 3x13 coda in which Carlos struggles with a new definition of being "enough."

◆ I'll be here all the same by @strandnreyes (Words: 4.8K; Rating: G)

“I am glad you have someone you can talk to who can maybe do a better job at fixing things,” Carlos insists before dropping his eyes to their tangled together fingers. “All I want is for you to be okay.”It’s not surprising to hear, but it hits as if it was. That really is the root of this whole thing. As much as Carlos wants to do what he can to be the person to get TK to that place, at the end of the day all he really wants is for TK to get there.“I will be.”Or, three late night conversations following the events of 3.13

◆ Trigger by comes2gusu (Words: 4.7K; Rating: T)

TK is struggling with his newly found sobriety. After being triggered at an NA meeting, Cooper takes TK for omelets

◆ this love we carry by @thevenstar (Words: 7.6K; Rating: T)

A 3x13 coda in which Carlos has a conversation with a friend, puts his heart to rest, and learns that walking away does not mean surrender.

◆ Those Pieces by @taralaurel (Words: 7.3K; Rating: M)

"I, I'm not telling you all - this - so you can fix me," TK huffs a hot breath against Carlos' chin, "or save me or really, do anything, okay?" Carlos nods against TK's forehead. TK has done a lot of things in his life to deserve the bad that has happened to him. He has no idea what good he's done to deserve Carlos. Coda to 3x13

◆ the one i want by @chaotictarlos (Words: 2K; Rating: E)

TK gets Carlos to take his shirt off.

◆ i want you to unravel me by @reyescarlos (Words: 4.2K; Rating: E)

In the aftermath of the strain that's fallen over them, TK and Carlos bridge the gap with open conversation that brings them closer together, both emotionally and physically. [3x13 coda]

◆ Just Wanna Breathe by @theoceanismyinkwell (Words: 1.9K; Rating: G)

Carlos doesn’t dare look at him for long, knowing that his eyes have always been the window to his soul, the weakest part of his body, unveiling everything in the well of truths he’s kept a lid on for years and years. His family may not be able to read him as well as he feared for the decades he was in the closet, but TK has a way of crashing into his life with a formidable gentleness and a piercing understanding that unmoors him in every possible way.And that’s precisely what TK is doing now, keeping the warmth of his palms flush against the beating of Carlos’ skin, cradling his face, forcing them both to gaze into each other’s eyes and face each other’s unspoken terrors without flinching.TK sounds like he has a lump in his throat. “I’m going to say something, and I want you to listen to me and I want you to remember it.”---Or: What happens when Carlos comes back home after TK's talk with Cooper, and the confessions that spill out after.

◆ waiting on the sidelines by @morganaspendragonss (Words: 1.5K; Rating: T)

They’d promised each other no more secrets, and while Carlos rationally knows that these aren’t exactly secrets, there’s still this grain of resentment inside of him that scratches away with every beat of his heart. It’s something he can’t let show in front of TK ever again, which is why he’s here, outside Owen's house while TK and Cooper talk in the loft.If anyone’s going to understand what he’s feeling, it’s Owen Strand.

◆ Three Weeks In by @masterroadtripper (Words: 3K; Rating: T; TW: self-harm)

It’d been three weeks since Sadie had drugged them - nineteen days since TK started a ninety-day NA sobriety program at the local Synagogue and eleven days since Carlos had met Cooper for the first time - before Carlos realized that there was something else TK wasn’t telling him.

◆ What We Need by Ehm (Words: 3.1K; Rating: T)

"You okay, bud?" Cooper startled him out of his thoughts and he let go of the spoon with a clinking noise. He straightened up, embarrassed. "Sorry, I zoned out." "I can see that," Cooper sounded vaguely amused. "You wanna talk about it?" --- Three times TK has a conversation with Cooper, and one time he talks to Carlos. Or, 3x13 and beyond from TK's point of view.

◆ Nocturne by @sanctuaryforalluniverses (Words: 735; Rating: T)

Carlos comes home. (Post-ep for 3x13)

◆ Precious Love by @rmd-writes (Words: 11.6K; Rating: M)

This is five times TK thinks he doesn’t deserve love and one time he knows he does – an exploration of TK’s relationship with love and self-worth.

◆ Inside a snow globe by @goodways (Words: 6.9K; Rating: E)

It isn’t until TK is on top, lavishing Carlos’ neck, stroking his hand up his side, that Carlos brings their faces together, barely a suggestion of a kiss between them. He holds TK’s jaw and keeps him close whilst he readies the question in his mind. He breathes out a straightforward and tempting, “fuck me,” over TK’s lips which silences the world outside their bedroom. TK’s response whenever he’s asked for this has few variations between immediate enthusiastic compliancy and the sweet reassurance he knows Carlos is dying for. The answer is always yes. - The evening after TK gets his one month sobriety chip.

◆ my home has been your heart since the day i met you by @lavendergiroux (Words: 1.8K; Rating: M)

After Carlos leaves Cooper and TK to talk, all they do is talk about him. When Carlos comes home - they are still talking about him.

◆ Deep Talks and Cuddles by raniaswritings (Words: 1.2K; Rating: T)

TK talks to Cooper and Carlos comes back home after a few hours

◆ “What are you doing?” “I don’t want you to do that.” by @irispurpurea (Words: 1.1K; Rating: T)

Fictober 2022 Day 13 and 14. Prompts: “What are you doing?” “I don’t want you to do that.” “What are you doing?” Carlos looks up to find TK frowning at him from their bedroom. “I…” Carlos holds up the blanket in his hands, unsure what else to say. He thinks it’s pretty obvious what he’s doing. Then again, tonight has proven that he can’t do anything right, apparently, when it comes to TK.

◆ "It's your shirt..." by @lavendergiroux (Words: 780; Rating: M)

TK really didn't want to talk about it, he just really needed Carlos to claim him...

◆ sunkissed face by mooshkat (Words: 1K; Rating: T)

To show his appreciation, TK decides to make Carlos breakfast.

Spec Fics Written Prior to the Episode Airing/Canon Convergence:

◆ if the darkness comes, i'll stay by @doublel27 (Words: 3.2K; Rating: T)

“I had some things to do,” TK says, his stomach twisting. “Some things?” “Carlos, I texted,” TK reminds his boyfriend, because he did. “It’s fine.” “Is it?” Carlos asks, his voice dangerously calm. or TK comes home late for the third night in one week, and he and Carlos have a necessary confrontation. A speculative fic for 3x13.

◆ Caught by @littlemissmarianna (Words: 761; Rating: G)

“Who’s that?” Carlos doesn’t answer Mitchell’s question because he doesn’t know. There’s only a handful of people he can identify from the back, and this guy isn’t on the list. He has broad shoulders, though, and nice hair and is probably good-looking. Why else would TK be staring at him so intently?

◆ In Order to Get Back to Us by reyestrand (Words: 2.2K; Rating: G)

Carlos waits up for TK when he’s late coming home and they talk about the things they’re afraid to. - a 3x13 speculation fic

◆ still comparing your past to my future by @kiras-sunshine (Words: 17.4K; Rating: T)

Something else than the wallowing feeling of uneasiness, anxiety and hurt in the bottom of his stomach. All of it seems to have a chokehold on his heart and no matter what he tries to think about, his thoughts always go back to TK, to worry that keeps mixing in with everything, and the brightness of TK’s smile, the way the corner of his mouth curled up and his eyes shone, when he smiled at someone else than him.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic rec #fic recs #fic rec list #tarlos fic #episode: s3e13 riddle of the sphynx #fic writers are amazing and we need to hype them up #my gifs #cutting it close on finishing up this list while still on the rewatch week for it!

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toji-girl · 3 days

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it's okayy!! i'll send it again :)) it was something like jjk characters falling asleep on reader (anyone u got in mind, i don't have a particular in mind atm but i would love to see it with nanami !!!), could be an established relationship or pre dating era, just something really fluffy and cute <333 i love you, have an amazing day ahead angel 🩷

I love sweet fluffy moments like this 🥺🥺🩷😭 I love you too sweetpea! you're so kind, I hope you have an awesome day too! also, these are kinda short and I only wrote for three characters! my mind blanked for Sukuna 🤧😭

Kento

Your fingers threaded through blonde locks further relaxing your boyfriend who ended up with his head in your lap during movie night, his eyes began to droop when the movie played and his cheek started on your shoulder then he ended up here.

He didn't mean to either.

When you invited him for dinner, Kento wanted to see you, to soothe that ache in his bones and hands that would be able to finally hold you, instead, he was fighting to not fall asleep. "Kento, sleep baby."

All he did was hum, his eyes fluttered open barely to look up at you. "I'm not sleeping," Kento told you with a warm smile that made you giggle as you continued to scratch at his scalp, "resting my eyes."

This time you threw your head back laughing at the old-time excuse. "Oh, I'm sure." You teased and let him get back into position, his head fit perfectly on your thighs and you smelled good and felt so warm.

Sleepiness lulled him in like a siren to a sailor, it welcomed him with open arms that he fell into gladly, he couldn't help it around you, he felt safe enough to let his guard down and you loved it so much.

You watched him knowing how exhausted he was and how taxing his job was as well. You grabbed the blanket and tucked him in before leaning back to get more comfortable.

Toji x Shiu

Dating two men means you get double love or double whatever it is, and like now you were getting a headache that split your skill listening to your boyfriends argue with each other while packing for your yearly getaway and you knew it was from being tired.

The three of you had stayed up late last night going down the list and then somehow you ended up falling asleep on Shiu while Toji laid his head on your ass using it as a pillow while you all sprawled out on the couch.

Now they were going back and forth on who needed to grab what and who was in charge of what. "If you don't shut up and listen-"

You stopped folding a towel to whip your head to look at Toji who looked back at you cocking an eyebrow. "Got somethin' to say princess?" He asked earning an eye-roll knowing he was tired.

"Nope, but you two should stop being asses to each other. We have thirty minutes before the taxi is here." It was all you said before leaving the bedroom with your suitcase and stuff, their argument still could be heard as you walked into the living room with a heavy sigh.

It was silent and it made you drowsy, your sleep wasn't the best, and neither was theirs and they had a plan to propose on the trip so their nerves were a little grated against and raw leaving them a bit bitchy.

Ten minutes into packing you were done and while making sure everything was correct Shiu emerged from the bedroom first and right over to you where he sat down pulling you into his chest. "I love you." He murmured nuzzling his nose into your neck kissing it.

"Shiu....we have twenty minutes, and our quickies are always not quick." You hummed wrapping your arms around his neck just in time for Toji to join and take his seat next to you.

He watched you both feeling his stomach twist, tomorrow they were going to ask you to marry them. "We're shitheads sometimes, ain't we?" He asked holding the back of your neck softly when you turned to look at him and kiss him too.

"Sometimes, but I am too. I love you both so much. Now let's get ready, please before we miss our taxi." You hummed and got up from between them to grab your suitcase and wheel it outside to wait.

Both men followed after and helped you inside first away from the scorching heat while they loaded the back up, then they got inside on either side of you. "How long is the ride to the airport?" Toji asked laying his head on your shoulder the best he could.

Shiu followed suit and his eyes were already closed before his head hit. "Forty-five minutes, we have enough time." You hummed and patted both their cheeks hearing both men start to snore softly after ten minutes into the car ride as their hands rested on your thighs.

Toji's fingers brushed along Shiu's and soon enough their fingers found each other and were interlocked which you snapped a picture of to show them later and to use as your screensaver as well.

#💌incoming #jjk fluff #kento x you fluff #kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #toji x you #jjk x reader #toji x reader #shiu kong x reader #shiu fluff #toji fluff #kento fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #shiu kong x you fluff

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writinginthetwilight · 21 hours

Text

Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Loneliness. Anxiety. Dubious Dnd lore. Horror-esk/creepy vibes. See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note: Thank you for all the love on the last part of this fic you're a lovely bunch. This all Eddie's POV, slowing down to show a little glimpse of life on the other side of the wall and in his noggin. As always, all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird little world and being so supportive.

Special thanks to Somna for beta reading this chapter and soothing the brain goblins 💙

Wc: 4.4k

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. I hope you're all being kind to yourselves. Bye.

Part 6 - Rapid eye movement.

Starbursts roll over his vision, the edges are fading into burning static, there's a darkness rapidly approaching. He's falling.

Then he's awake.

Sitting bolt upright, his fingers catch the knots in his curls as he runs his hands over his head, panting breaths leaving him in time with the way his eyes dart around the room.

The world's a gentle sombre blue, shadows still overbearing as the sun starts its crawl out from beyond the horizon.

The knock that comes from behind him forces out the last of the breath he's been holding, reality slowly sinking in as he falls backwards.

He knocks back on the wall behind his head.

A returned acknowledgement of the shared time, somewhere.

The walls are too thick to pick up any small movements, but he waits and listens anyway.

He hopes you get back to sleep.

Dashed red numbers are a blur from his nightstand, too bright for tired eyes, they edge into focus slowly as he blinks away the sleep, he wishes he hadn't.

He needs to get up soon.

His first appointment’s in a couple of hours, a new one on the outskirts of the city and he needs to stop by the store first, see if he's picked up anymore for the week ahead.

A car revs its engine outside, his heart stutters, eyes clench closed.

It was just a dream.

Kind of.

Whatever it was, he's back now.

You're back now.

He scrubs at his face, pulling off his sweat stricken shirt, material damp against his skin and rapidly turning cold, before reaching out blindly for his cigarettes and balancing his ashtray precariously on his stomach.

Smoke curls up as he lets out his first exhale and he tries to calm his racing mind as he watches the shapes they coil into, serpents consuming themselves, tendrils that dissipate into nothing.

It had been what felt like a lifetime that you'd both nervously waited to wake, for something to appear from the darkness, but nothing came.

You were stuck, stock still as he'd tried to get you through the light, everything in his body telling him to go.

Your lack of self preservation would be impressive, if it didn't make him feel like such a fucking coward.

He can still see your face, eyes trained on the wall, mouth working like you were trying to get words out as you finally moved with him away.

The relief on your face as the rushing in your ears began.

The small wave you'd given him before being ripped away.

Fuck.

His letter from you sits on his nightstand amongst the clutter he needs to clear. He reaches over, turning on the small lamp which does very little, barely illuminates the area around him in muted peach hues.

It's enough.

I'm going to plan an exorcism, so if you could let me know which weekday evening would be good for you, that would be great.

In the meantime if you could find some sort of bell to wear so I don't almost die of a heart attack each time I come home that would be great.

His cigarette smoulders at the edge of the page smoke drifting over the words like fog.

He scratches at the stubble that's starting to come through on his jaw, trying to hide the smile that comes to his face at your words.

He's not sure who from.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, letter still in hand he pads his way through to the kitchen.

Bare feet hit the smooth cold tile, stray crumbs sticking to the bottom of them that he wipes off absentmindedly against his leg as he leans against the counter.

The coffee machine clicks and gurgles as he looks up from your words to stare out over the street, golden light now edging in making the opposing windows reflect back like a hall of mirrors, light dancing over his hands in waves.

He frowns, moving before the idea can fade with distractions, into the living room.

Peanuts and popcorn lie strewn over the floor as he rounds the corner and he curses lightly under his breath.

He'll deal with it later.

He pulls a stack of books off the bookshelf rifling through until he finds it.

‘Manual of the Planes’.

He discards the rest, sitting down criss-cross, stray kernels sticking into his calves where his sweatpants have rolled up.

He shifts them away and glances up to the space in front of him, the memory of you laughing fleeting through his mind.

The coffee pot fills and clicks off in the kitchen, light reflecting off the glass that shrouds the dark liquid.

It goes lukewarm, forgotten.

It's odd that the intentional quiet of his mornings seems to make the apartment less empty.

He'd stopped turning on the TV or playing music in the mornings a few weeks ago, afraid he might wake you.

The fact that there's someone there to hear him seems to make the silence less overwhelming.

He has to pull himself away from the book, pushing it into his bag to resume later, the responsibility of the day taking priority if he wants to make rent this month.

He's crouched at the foot of your doorway down the hall slipping a note under when he hears footsteps.

There's a woman coming down the stairs that curls off at the end of the hall heading towards him with a wary look.

He tries to look as casual as he can.

“Morning.”

He flashes her a grin still down on one knee and she quickly rushes past without a response.

Shit.

He hangs his head, standing slowly as his knees crack and back protests.

Mumbling, he curses tense muscles and aching bones as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, pulling up his soft black hood he adjusts the hair out of his eyes before long limbs carry him down and out onto the street below.

Dewy spring air still holds its chill, the sun still low in the sky and his breath mists in the air around him. He pulls up the collar on his leather jacket, shoulders hunching up around his ears.

The morning rush hasn't started, but there's still bodies on the street, heads down, paper coffee cups steaming in the air.

The constant low murmur of cars and people's existence buzzes around him, and accompanies him all the way until he finally boards his first bus, steel doors closing and muting the world.

The record shop isn't too far, a twenty minute walk at best, but if he's going to make it out to his first lesson he's not got the time to spare.

Early morning sun warms the side of his face as he pulls out the extra book in his rucksack, eyes resuming where they left off, as the bus takes off.

Transitive planes, demi planes, gods, demons and elemental struggles.

It's lighting up his brain.

The places which sit dormant, unentertained in the daily grind to exist, he greedily takes it in, lets it wash over his mind.

His notebook balances awkwardly on his thigh while he takes notes of anything that fits.

Lights, sleep, entry ways, reflections.

Voids and disembodied voices that will suck out his soul.

Shadows crawl over the pages as strangled light gasps between buildings and as the towering skyline clears daylight catches the white of the pages, making his intense gaze falter and look away.

Just in time to see the record store pass.

Shit

He rams everything into his bag, book pages crease and his guitar case rings out muffled pained notes as he clumsily stands and rushes to pull the cord.

The visit’s short and sweet, the owner Buck doesn't bat an eye as Eddie shouts out a slightly breathless hello as he barges past the closed sign.

Raising a hand in response, his gaze still stays firmly set on his newspaper even as Eddie reaches blindly behind the desk and pulls out a green book.

There's no new students.

But there are a couple of kids he hasn't seen in a while, names penned in next to their parents phone numbers.

A little tension leaves him at the sight, lessons are an extra expense, easily cut around the holidays and as spring crawled in, he was sure he wouldn't see them again.

His flyer in the window needs replacing, the words starting to fade from sun exposure. He should probably check the others around the city too.

He'll do it tomorrow.

He daren't risk too much distraction as the next bus carries him out of the city, as the streets outside turn suburban and unfamiliar he needs to count the stops.

Day dreaming’s an expense he can't afford if he doesn't want to be late. First lessons are hard enough without having to explain why he's not on time.

Languished footsteps fall onto pristine sidewalk as the bus hisses and takes off behind him, leaving him to unknown cookie cutter streets.

A knot in his shoulder makes him huff and wince backpack sitting uncomfortably over the muscles there.

He misses the van.

The thought isn't new but lingers a little longer on mornings like this, as his feet hit the ground every step’s a reminder of how much easier it would be.

How much safer he'd feel.

He pushes the thought down, reasoning he wouldn't be able to afford the gas anyways.

Ignores the fact that one appointment wouldn't take almost two hours out of his morning.

A low whistle leaves him as he finds the street, a cul de sac of matching white houses with cloned cherry wood trees to the left of their driveways.

The air smells like breakfast and there's distant chatter of kids in the tall fenced off gardens.

Number 12.

The driveway alone rivals the size of, your his apartment.

He checks his hair in the car window, pulling it back with the satin purple scrunchy on his wrist, biting into his cheek as he wraps it round his hair.

Just another piece of her which remains, stuck into his life like splinters that he keeps fucking finding, just beneath the skin.

He takes a breath, shaking out his arms as he pushes the doorbell, a muffled sing-song tune alerts the house to his arrival.

He shifts nervously, an outline through the frosted glass approaching.

It wouldn't be the first time someone had closed the door in his face. Not even giving him the chance to explain who he was, why he was there bringing down the house prices.

The lock clicks.

“Hi.”

“Can I help you?”

“I'm Eddie, we spoke on the phone. I'm here for guitar lessons with Sam.”

An hours worth of Munson charm and some badly done scales later, he leaves with an envelope full of cash and homemade brownies snug in his backpack.

Six more lessons booked for the same time each week, discussed while Mrs Graham waved him away and flushed pink at his talk of her not looking old enough to have a 10 year old.

As the buildings get taller again, the bus back starts filling out and his mind strays as he tries to avoid eye contact.

You said you worked around here.

He doesn't need to be at the school for another couple of hours and he lets his feet carry him off a few stops early. Through seas of trench coats and shoulder pads he meanders, a streak of black slipping between white pressed shirts.

Shined shoes file into buildings through glass doors and he wonders, if in another time you're hurrying in with them.

All the buildings look the same here, concrete mountains, unfriendly and overbearing.

He hopes you don't work in one of these.

He sits himself on the back of a bench when the streets turn more pedestrian, bakeries, cafes and mini marts lining the sidewalk.

The cool metal of the bench bleeds past dark denim and into the skin on the back of his thighs as he digs into the bag of brownies, squinting into the late morning sun he pulls his hair free shaking it out.

The woman on the opposing bench watches him and he gives her a tight smile, she looks away.

The next bus is late.

Of course it is.

The walk into school feels surreal enough without him rushing in late for classes.

It's some kind of ironic fuck you from the universe that the best steady source of income he's got means he’s back in the hallways of a high school 3 days a week.

He pulls at the creases in his shirt, formed in his bag over the course of the morning, swapped out for his hoodie on the bus ride over.

The tie around his neck makes him feel like he's choking.

The kids aren't bad, just, not as enthusiastic or interested as the home school kids, he can't blame them.

Pale walls and bright lights seem to suck out your soul while simultaneously spotlighting all your imperfections.

He hadn't wanted to be there at 16 either, still didn't a decade later.

They keep fucking about. Not listening and he doesn't mean to snap, but the fluorescent lights and noise are grinding on him quicker than he should let it.

He spends the time between lunch and after school classes pouring over the book in the teachers lounge while it's empty, drags his way through after school lessons then makes his way back to the city.

One more.

A standing appointment.

Within the city only a short walk from the bus station.

There's no Munson charm here.

He won't leave with brownies.

It's the most comfortable he's felt all day.

A shared acknowledgement of a long day is made over tired eyes as Ruth answers the door to the 5th floor apartment.

“Eddie's here.”

Lizzy, 13, spunky, and really fucking good.

She likes old school Maiden and is in love with Joan Jett.

She reminds him he's old every chance she gets.

Her mom can't really afford him and pays by the week, no block payments but she's never missed a lesson.

Change and creased notes scavenged and saved, are always waiting for him on the small kitchen counter when he leaves.

He picks up snacks on the way there, store brand candy bars and chips that he always forgets when he leaves.

It's a routine he savours.

A place he feels welcome with no pretence of being the help. An hour of playful jabs, jamming and laughter that drowns out the low hum of the radio.

Everything's dropped as soon as he passes the threshold of the door, his shoulders sagging as he walks heavily into the living room.

Late afternoon sun casts the far side of the room in shadows.

Popcorn and peanuts lay all over the floor.

His hands find his face and he lets out a frustrated moan into his palms as he turns and grabs the broom.

It's the bare minimum swept back into the bowl, gritty flakes and salt still peppering the green carpet

He can vacuum tomorrow.

The full coffee pot sits idle on the counter as he walks into the kitchen and his foot catches a crumb pile he made while he swept this morning

It didn't quite manage its way to the garbage.

It's overwhelming in the least intrusive way and he can't stand it.

He's done and the rattling quiet is making his thoughts tumble and run into each other.

Chores and bills and otherworldly bullshit.

It can all wait.

He collapses onto the couch, hair splayed out as he groans face down into the upholstery, legs stuck out at angles which will ache soon if he doesn't move.

The music’s turned up, drowning out the silence of his surroundings and the noise inside his head.

He should read, make more notes, clean, put away the cash sitting in his bag but instead he lets the music become a theme tune to his overactive imagination.

The sound of the door slamming into the wall announces your arrival home, reverberating around him and causing a grin to spread across his face from where his head hangs upside down off the couch.

The tape’s long finished and the energy to get up and flip it crawled out into the couch cushions a good half hour ago.

“Hello” your voice calls out and he purses his lips as it echoes out into the empty space.

“Eddie?”

That's louder, there's a distant sound of something being dropped to the ground with a dull thud, then your movements become clear.

He manovers himself silently upright.

You're mumbling to yourself, some kind of list and he can imagine you infront of him at your kitchen counter.

With a stretch of his arms he cups his hands around his mouth.

“Warning! Warning! ”

The choked scream you let out is followed by the clatter of cans and his responding cackle has him falling back against the couch, soft pillows catching tired muscles as he grins.

“You fucking son of a bitch. Why?”

Your voice is breathy and he shrugs to himself.

“Couldn't find a bell. So next best thing.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don't.”

There's a pause and something stutters through him as he wonders if the impulse to fuck around with you was too much.

He's too much.

“How was work?”

It comes out quick, a little cracked and he winces as his words press into the empty air.

It reminds him of the first few days, when he thought that the loneliness was finally starting to mess with him.

“Fine.” You say finally, a small laugh in your voice that comes out in a huff, echoing and floating around him. “You?”

“Uh yeah, yeah good, got a new kid on the roster, got lunch out of it.”

“Lunch, how ingenuitive of you. How'd you manage that?” The yawn you let out disguises the last syllables of the words and it catches the muscles in his jaw.

“My unyielding charm” he says with his own, eyes falling closed.

He hears you snort.

“Just ‘cause I haven't turned it on with you.”

“Hmmm.”

He smiles and imagines you rolling your eyes.

Imagines that you're walking around the room.

“So scaring me half to death whenever I walk in isn't part of your unyielding charm. ”

The last few words are muffled by another yawn and his eyes open, staring at the ceiling with a small frown.

“You get back to sleep?”

There's a pause in your footsteps.

The obvious unconscious elephant in the room rousing.

“For a bit."

He nods his head chewing the inside of his cheek as he hears you resume doing whatever it is you're doing in the kitchen.

“I think I know why we end up there.”

He turns his head towards your voice, warped and disembodied its floating out from around the sideboard Paul left.

“ Yeah?”

“ Well not why, but how. Sort of?”

“Sounds like you cracked the case Columbo.”

“Shut up.”

He waves out into the open air and you proceed like you've seen him.

“We both fell asleep around the same time right? So, maybe we both have to be in the same sleep stage? We could both be in deep sleep or REM at the same time if we fall asleep at the same time. ”

“We sleep at the same time all the time.”

“ Yes, but we went to bed at the same time. ”

“I'm lost.”

You sigh and the clank of something metal being set down rings out.

“There's different stages to sleep, depending on how long you've been sleeping. If we go to sleep at the same time maybe we could test it.”

He quirks an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “You want to give me a bedtime”

“Yes.''

The resolute sound of your voice makes him break into a full grin and he withholds the puns which threaten to spill out.

Then the sickness comes wrapped in the memories of last night.

“If it's all the same to you, I'm not exactly excited about going back,” another yawn wracks him and he's thankful for it hiding the shake in his words. He lets his head lol to the side “I can't promise I'll stay awake anyway.”

“Rough day?” Your voice has lost any edge and he doesn't know why it makes his chest ache.

“Just, long.”

His stomach suddenly grumbles loud enough to hear and you laugh quietly. “I should probably eat before I pass out” he grimaces, hauling himself up with a groan.

“You making some sort of future food? Astronaut blocks, powder you stir into water that keeps you full all day.”

You laugh, and he stretches his arms above him smiling to himself.

“Lembas bread.” you quip.

D. RiPpp…

His eyes snap open, dust twisting above him dancing in a gentle light that nowhere provides.

The drip is always off on this side, garbled like it's been re-recorded so many times the edges of the sound have lost any clarity.

You're going to be so smug.

The dread hits him then, catches and settles in the pit of his stomach as he climbs out of bed and peers into the hallway shielding his eyes from the unwavering light at the end.

There's a fleeting fear that you might not be here this time, leaving him to navigate the nightmare alone.

It makes his feet move a little quicker, over the disarray and dirt that clings to the world around him. The items from his life sitting amongst it all like pristine placeholders for when he'd finally checked out for the day.

You're standing at the threshold to your bedroom door when he makes his way through.

Biting at the side of your thumb with a small frown as you glare at the darkness in front of you.

You look tired, clothes wrinkled and posture leaning awkwardly.

“So, this is when you gloat, yeah?”

You startle a little before a triumphant grin spreads on your face.

“I told you.”

“I never said you were wrong.” He scratches at his neck looking over the room. “So what now?”

Your grin dies and you turn away from him, taking tentative footsteps edging around the black.

He wishes he wanted to move, but he doesn't, he's rooted to the floor, watching you.

He can just about see the kitchen floor, it's completely black, indistinguishable between the darkness and the liquid that's now merged with it, slowly soaking out onto the carpet that borders where the linoleum should be.

You're leaning in, you're so close to it.

He swallows.

“I've been reading up, about where we might be.”

“You have?” you look at him over your shoulder and he manages a step forward .

“You're not the only one who can investigate and shit.”

He squirms internally under your gaze wondering if you can see his heart pounding, eyes flicking to the shadows.

Nodding his head behind him, he moves back as soon as you start to approach, slipping behind waves of light as you follow.

Thank fuck.

“D&D? “

You say face unconvinced as he waves his hands out with a flourish to the books that lay haphazardly at the end of his bed.

“What?”

“I was just kind of hoping for something. Real.“

His face falls and he looks at you eyes slowly moving to the light which now pours in through a dark window.

You press your lips into a hard line nodding to yourself. “Fair point.”

He settles onto the end of the bed pulling the book onto his lap and opening his notepad. Pages decorated in scrawl, page numbers circled, words underlined.

“So there's a few planes that match stuff here, but the cosmology of planes just makes sense, like the overlaps and- ”

His eyes flick up to where you stand, wide eyed and staring.

“Lost?” he asks and you nod your head stepping towards him.

“Shit. Okay.”

You come to sit beside him.

“Where'd I lose ya’”

You wince “The beginning?”

You smell like the cold, like when Wayne would come back home on early spring mornings, the world still dark, bird chatter in the trees around the trailer.

It makes him homesick.

He tells you the basics: the idea of the planes, overlapping worlds, door ways of colours.

You're a good student, interested, asking questions.

Running off on tangents with him.

He explains the fey wilds and all the other worlds that he noted down messily as the bus swayed this morning.

“So what's the dark?”

He flips the pages, doodles of monsters and ghouls litter the page and he passes you the book.

The Abyss.

Sprawling desolate landscapes and figures shrouded in shadow stare back from the pages and he looks to you.

“Yeah that checks out.”

Your eyes scan the pages, taking in details about shades and fiends, creatures that suck the life from you.

He watches you absorb it all, then your eyes lift, staring at a spot on the other side of the room before you abruptly stand.

“Where are you going? Hey?” his arm shoots out grabbing your wrist. .

“To look at it, if it's a different place then -”

“Can we not, go stare into the dark caverns of hell tonight.”

He drops his grip on you, hand scrubbing over his face.

“Don't you want to know if there's something in there? “

“It hissed and made screeching sounds that made my lungs feel like they were going to explode. I think it's a damn safe bet something in there.”

Your face softens a fraction, eyes moving to watch where his leg is bouncing and he slaps a palm to it in an attempt to steady it.

“Okay.”

You offer the book back to him and he takes it sceptically.

“Okay?”

“We know how to get here now, it can wait.” You say with a shrug.

He watches as you come to sit back on the bed leg tucked up under yourself.

“So, what now dungeon master?”

He lets himself fall backwards onto the bed and you look down at him expectantly as he waves the book at you.

“Roll for initiative?”

The only noise that echos is the drip, the sound curls then dodges around rays of light and distended furniture until it dissolves into the black.

Your muffled laughters hidden away behind walls of light, his responding grin concealed by its gentle movements which roll and flutter.

The next drip falls without a sound, a spark of light blinks behind crumbling plaster.

The abyss starts to move.

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel @kellsck @valhallavalkyrie9 @em0220

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @nachtficlibrary @strangersmunsons

Let me know if you would like to be added <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #joseph quinn #knock knock #my writing #Spotify

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kteezy997 · 1 day

Text

Daddy’s Boy- Part Ten

Warnings: mention of sex, cum, and impregnating, otherwise just lots of fluff!

two years later

It was finally here. The week of your wedding to the love of your life. You were officially going to be Timothee's wife and share the same last name as your son. This was a time that you thought only dreams were made of.

You had been showered with gifts and hugs and sweet wishes from family and friends. Your soon to be mother and sister-in-law threw your bridal shower. It was a beautiful day, though it was strange to have the party be all about you. You were used to spending your days working and hanging out with Theo and Timmy, which you loved, but it was special to be treated like such a princess by all the women in your life.

Your bachelorette party was another rarity for you: a night out on a party bus with all of your friends, drinking and dancing the night away like some college kids. It was a lot of fun, but you were even happier to see Timmy when he picked you up at a random bar at the end of it all, at nearly two in the morning. His parents had graciously agreed to keep Theo overnight so Timmy could collect you after the party bus. You ran to your fiancé and leaped into his arms, ready to go home and fall asleep under the covers with him.

That night, he helped you get out of your dress and into your cozy pajamas as well as taking your makeup off for you. You were too drunk and silly to do it yourself.

"Hold still, y/n, I can't get it all if you don't stay still." he'd say, wiping your eye with a cotton pad as you giggled.

When you finally go into bed, you snuggled up with the blankets, closed your eyes and felt his lips kiss your forehead.

"I'm glad you had a good time tonight, baby." Timmy cooed.

……

Your wedding itself was set to be big and beautiful, but still somewhat private, as private as the wedding of an A-List actor could be. There would one hundred guests, but your wedding party was small. The most important thing to you and Timmy was to have your family and closest friends there. It wasn't a social event for paparazzi to find or for other celebrities to show off their designer dresses and suits.

Theo was probably the most excited that his parents were going to be married. You were already a family, but the wedding was a time to celebrate it being official. And Theo figured this was the next step towards getting a new sibling. He wanted a little brother or sister to play with and look after so badly.

As the big day drew closer, you started to feel different. You were nauseous at times, and your breasts started to hurt. With all the planning and excitement of the wedding going on, you didn't pay much attention to how you were feeling. But you finally realized that you hadn't had a period in two or three months.

You didn't want to cause a fuss with Timmy and Theo, just in case you weren't actually pregnant. You didn't want them to get excited over nothing. You wanted to find out for yourself. Because maybe it was just a fluke, maybe your stress level had messed up your hormones instead of a pregnancy.

The boys were busy playing video games, so you ordered a few different pregnancy tests from CVS Pharmacy online and had them delivered to your door.

..........

That night after Theo had gone to bed, you told Timmy to come into the bedroom. You waited for him, and he had a silly grin on his face when he walked in.

"Baby, what's going on?" he smirked, tilting his head as he looked at you.

You were nervous, not because of his reaction, but because of the news being so close to the wedding. Everything was all mushed together and there was just such a feeling of unknown, which was scary.

"Come here, sit down." you said to him, gesturing toward the bed.

Timmy did as you told him to do, biting his lip as he sat down and said, "Is it sexy time, my love?" He put his arms out to you.

You let him softly grab you and pull you close. You petted his hair, smoothing it back as he gazed up at you lovingly. "Well, I wanted to give you something first." you said. You hoped that your nerves weren't causing you to shake or tremble to the point of him noticing. You really didn't want him to worry about you.

"Oh, you don't have to get me anything. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted. I love you so much, y/n.” he smiled wider, “I can’t wait for you to be wife." he replied, hugging you tighter.

"I got you something anyway." you backed away from his embrace, "Um, close your eyes and hold out your hands." You watched him as he followed your instructions. Though he had his eyes closed, he still kept a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Should I be scared?" he asked as you had walked away to pick up one of the pregnancy tests from the en-suite bathroom.

You giggled, "No, I don't think so." You walked back over to him, placing the stick onto his palms. "Okay, look now."

Timmy opened his eyes, squinted at the pregnancy test in his hands. You watched him as he read the small print on it, which read, “pregnant.”

He looked up at you, wide eyed. He took a deep breath and shuddered softly; you could see a glimpse of fear in his eyes. After the initial reaction, he stood and grabbed you, hugging you tightly. He whispered in your ear, "My love, we’re gonna have another baby. I'm so happy, I could just hold you forever."

You ran your hands up his back, squeezing him back affectionately. "Oh, please do. I love you, baby." you cooed. As you pulled away from the hug, you put your hands on his cheeks, "Are you okay? It's normal to be nervous." you said, looking in his eyes, trying to gauge his mental state.

Timmy let out a little sigh, nodding. But he looked down at your stomach, placing his hand on you there.

You felt an instant warmth from his touch, and somehow in that very moment, you knew that everything was going to be okay. It would be more than okay, it would be perfect, your own kind of perfect.

"Our second child, I can't believe it." he said lowly, rubbing his palm over your tummy. "Well," he looked at you with the smirk you knew all too well, "I can believe it, but still, this is such a crazy feeling, babe." He then pressed his forehead to yours.

You saw his bottom lip quiver ever so slightly, then a single tear fell from his eye. "Aw, my sweet boy." you wiped his tear, "Don't worry. You're an amazing father. This baby will love you and obsess over you just like Theo does." You kissed Timmy's cheek for reassurance.

"I know, I know we'll be fine. It's just," he looked down at the ground, "I feel like since I met Theo when he was three, that was kind of an easy age, you know? But a baby is totally different, like there's so many ways to screw it up."

You put your fingers under his chin, forcing him to look in your eyes. "Don't think like that. I don't believe that there is such a thing as an "easy age" when it comes to raising kids. It's all hard, and we will both screw up, but it will be worth it. You're going to be wonderful with this baby."

Timmy smiled softly, kissed you, then said, "That you babe, you always know how to make me feel better. Theo is gonna freak out! We have to go tell him." he grabbed your hand, trying to pull you out of the bedroom.

"No, no!" you squeezed his hand but kept your feet planted though he was pulling you. "He's in bed and it's still really early in the pregnancy. We have plenty of time to tell him." you insisted.

"Okay, you're right." he said, calming himself. "Should we wait until after the wedding to tell him?"

"Yeah, I think so. I love him, but I don't trust him to keep it to himself." you giggled.

"Yeah, he'll be too excited, he'd have to tell someone." he grinned, pulling you into him again. "Hmm, I wonder if it happened on Valentine's Day. We really went all out that night." He leaned in, nuzzling his nose onto yours.

You laughed, "That's definitely possible. But I mean, you don't like wearing condoms, so it really could have happened anytime."

Timmy hummed, put his head down into your chest. He started to kiss your neck. "You make a good point." He spoke in between kisses. "You like that I put another baby in you? You like that my cum is gonna make you so big and round and pretty."

He was practically purring as the words danced into your ears. You grew weak in his arms. "Yes, I'll have as many babies as you want, Timmy."

He suckled on your throat, stopping briefly to say, "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting you pregnant again and again and again. The world will know how good I fuck you."

You felt his lips on your skin as they turned up into a grin. You giggled, putting your arms around your man. Your feet left the ground for a moment as Timmy picked you up and took you over to the bed.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothée chalamet fanfic

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villainofmyownstory · 3 days

Text

Day Zero

chapter 4: The one where you visit Ghost's house

masterlist

taglist

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

summary: Your horror and fear after what happened at the town hall are mixed with hope. Unfortunately, the newly met man in the mask doesn't make things any easier for you. He is stubborn and distrustful. However, when night comes, he takes you to his only safe place. To his house. Home.

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

author's note: I decided to post a new chapter today, unfortunately I'm having a worse time in my life again…. I hope it will get better soon. The longest chapter so far, let me know what you think.

Warning!! Mention of a suicide attempt, if you don't want to or can't read this, skip the parts where day 64 is referred to. Your mental health is more important! Take care of yourself, dear reader.

AO3

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Chapter 4: The one where you visit Ghost's house

Day 732

Getting to the tower by car definitely shouldn't take as long as your hike. The distance to cover, from the center to the suburbs, did not seem so far. You both remain silent the entire way. Ghost keeps looking in the rearview mirror while driving. As if he had to make sure you were still sitting on the trunk. When it reduces speed or (worse) brakes to almost zero on the odometer. His gaze focuses on the mirror. As if the man expected you to take advantage of the opportunity and jump out of the car, taking Riley with you. You will run away and disappear, just as you suddenly and unexpectedly appeared.

Admittedly, you had no intention of doing so. Quite the opposite. You wanted to stay. Even though the man was hostile towards you, you were sure of that. Damn, he wanted to shoot you!

Like a hunter hunting a defenseless deer. A sniper in war, shooting at a designated, nameless target. Without blinking an eye, in cold blood, in one breath. Shot. Exhale. End.

Without even exchanging a word with you. Without asking you anything. Not wanting to know anything. One shot and you're done, you wouldn't even feel it. He pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Remembering what happened a dozen or so minutes ago, you clench your hands into fists. Rubbing the material of your gloves against each other. Feeling the rough material slide over the skin of your hand. You try to focus exactly on that feeling.. You don't want to let fear and terror get the best of you. Breathe, slowly. Don't let these bad thoughts defeat you. Luckily for you, the man didn't do anything to you. Maybe he is also a lost and lonely man. Who is slowly losing his mind under these circumstances. He can't cope. Just like you.

You swallow. The hands are still tightly clenched into fists. Your hands are sweaty from stress.

The sun slowly hides behind the buildings, getting darker with each passing minute. The night is getting closer. The car is traveling at a higher speed. There are fewer and fewer buildings, they are probably suburbs, so you are getting closer to your goal - the tower.

You have to be strong, not show weakness. Focus. To listen carefully. Observe.

Although it's all Ghost, he has the upper hand. He has the most important argument and strength - he has a gun. Also, he's in his own territory and is undoubtedly a man with military training. He's taller and better built than you. Definitely stronger and athletic. Yet you try to control another panic attack, you won't give in to him so easily. You may not be in a lost position. You just have to convince him somehow. After all, somehow he has to believe that you came here alone. If you gain his trust without lying to him, maybe he'll let you stay. You don't really have anywhere to go back to. That house somewhere far away wasn't fit to live in for another winter. No heating, a leaking roof, you could list more defects. And the food supply in the area was running out, you found almost everything edible. You didn't know if it would be safe to return to that place.

You swallow. Your hands are still clenched into fists. Sweaty from stress.

The sun slowly hides behind the buildings, getting darker by the minute. The night is getting closer. The car is traveling at an increasing speed. There are fewer and fewer buildings, probably suburbs, so you are getting closer to your goal - the tower.

You have to be strong, not show weakness. Focus. To listen carefully. Observe.

Without a doubt, the whole Ghost guy, has an advantage over you. He has the most important argument and power - he has a gun. Besides, he is in his own territory and is undoubtedly a man with military training. Higher and much better built than you. Stronger. Athletic. But, if you are trying to control another panic attack, you won't give in to him so easily. You may not be in a lost position. You just have to convince him somehow. After all, he has to believe in some way that you came here alone. If you gain his trust without lying to him, maybe he will let you stay. You don't really have anywhere to go back to. That house somewhere far away, is uninhabitable for another winter. There's no heating, the roof is leaking. And food supplies were running out in the area, you could find almost anything edible. You don't know if it would be safe to go back there.

This town you are in now is the only one of the larger ones in this area. He seems to be better organized, definitely better than you. You haven't even found a car in working order with at least a little bit of fuel in the tank. So maybe it's better to stay with him. It will be easier to survive. Maybe the two of you can find other people?

Maybe the man knows something more, maybe he knows about a settlement, a safe place? Some larger group of living people? Maybe there is some hope.

Meeting this man caused a small spark that some future might exist.

Although it is probably not difficult, you have never been able to plan or predict. You lived in the moment. Not worrying too much about what the next day will bring. Not really taking into account.

The consequences of your actions or, inversely, your inaction. It's time to grow up, the worried voices of your parents echo in your head. Well, maybe you should have listened to them.

You sigh and look away from the passing suburban landscape, still lost in your own thoughts. You look down for a moment, at your protruding belly and wide thighs. You haven't even lost much weight in the last two years. You blame it on your bad, inappropriate diet. You mainly ate carbohydrates and cans of ready-made or sweetened food. You found any canned vegetables less and less often. Lots of cans of carbonated drinks and lots of sweets. Not to mention salty snacks. It was easier that way. Everything had long expiration dates and was tightly packed. Thanks to this food, you satisfy your hunger and provide your body with endorphins. Fighting with your own bad, dark thoughts, when you had supplies of food and drink. You simply lay in bed on the mattress for weeks. Vegetating, waiting. Counting on... you didn't know what.

You look back at the passing landscape, individual buildings and road signs. City exit sign, highway exit, empty fields.

You regret that in the past you were never interested in the army. You didn't even know what military unit this man was from. The only thing that was clear to you was the British flag attached to his uniform. Maybe it meant something? Perhaps he was here for a reason?

Even now, when the cold of the coming evening and the breeze caused by the speed of the car caress your cheeks and exposed neck. This causes goosebumps and reddened cheeks. It was bearable, the feeling of cold wasn't really that bad.

The most significant thing is that you no longer have to walk.

The important thing is that after so many days you at last found hope.

The fact that you are finally not alone.

You choose not to think about it any longer, clinging to Riley, thanking him without words for saving him. You calm down a little.

When you finally arrive at your destination, the man hurriedly gets out of the car and opens the trunk with a gun in one hand.

“Riley stays with me”

If you don't mind the penetrating chill of the coming evening, the coldness in the man's voice definitely makes you shiver.

‘And you, woman, go into the building and tell your people to leave. I have you in my sights all the time.’

You don't have the strength to argue with him. Another exchange of words makes no sense at this point. You dream of eating something and finally taking off those damn shoes. Your legs hurt so terribly. Subconsciously, you already know that a verbal battle with this man is pointless now. He won't believe you anyway, he has to see for himself. See what you keep telling him.

One thing you were sure of right from the start. This guy was definitely confident and he didn't tolerate a word of disagreement, he knew best. Stubborn. Probably soulless, a killing machine. Who knows what bad shit he'd done in the past?

So as you slowly walk towards the building next to the tower, you wonder if your back might get shot. Simple and clear. He will execute you and this will all be over. Perhaps it would have been better. Maybe that was your end.

Fate. Destiny.

Maybe these two years of loneliness and torment were supposed to end this way. Your body will remain near the tower as a warning to other travelers. If anyone but the two of you had survived this long. Because during these few months, without seeing any sign of another person's life, you began to believe that you were completely alone. That somehow you were the only one who survived.

Day 64

You

You didn't think the crisis would come so quickly. That you will lose faith. You didn't see any solution to the situation, or there never was one.

You weren't the type of person who was sad, emotional, or prone to depression. You were always a ray of light, a cheerful green pea, as your dad used to say.

But now, as more days passed, more days of darkness, emptiness, silence. Fucking loneliness.

You couldn't handle it.

You have stopped looking out the window for hours, hoping that your loved ones will come home.

That some familiar face will save you. That someone will break the silence.

The worst were the sleepless nights. Curled up somewhere in a corner or hidden in a bathroom, somewhere in a room without windows. As far away from the outside walls as possible.

You gave up really fast. And you made one most important decision. And that day, early in the morning, when the first rays of sunlight appeared in the sky. You left the house at a brisk pace and easily reached your destination without stopping. Standing in front of the abandoned pharmacy, you knew why and for what you had come here. Without blinking an eye, you went inside and quickly found the right packages and took them from the shelves. Then, just as efficiently, you hurried back to the empty family house.

However, as you crossed the threshold of the building, the familiar smell, so close to your heart reached your nostrils. Home, the family nest. The door slammed behind you and then, for the first and only time, you hesitated.

Just as you had done for years, now, you called out to the empty rooms.

“Mom? Dad? Sis?... I'm back..."

Silence.

Nobody answered.

Emptiness.

So that was a sign, no one was there. And the decision was made, there was no turning back.

Sitting down on a chair in the dining room, you carefully unpacked the contents of the packages you brought. Earlier, you prepared a kitchen mortar and a glass of water.

Slowly, systematically, one by one, you place tablets of different sizes on the bottom of the agate dish. You don't know what quantity is right. Probably the bigger the better. The more the faster. The larger the quantity, the much painless it should be. You hope so. End the pain. Put an end to this misery.

Stirring slowly with a heavy stone pestle, you don't worry that some of the grinded medicine, will fall on the table. White powder stains the dining room table and your jeans.

Nobody will see the mess anyway. And if they do, they won't pay attention to such a detail anyway. They're more likely to notice you.

You pour the ground contents into a glass of water. Hoping that some of it will dissolve and make it easier for you to drink.

Bitterness. This is all you feel.

The cold water with the crushed tablets slowly passes down your throat into your stomach.... The bitterness on your tongue. The ground up undissolved pieces irritate your gums, sticking like sand between your teeth. You feel the acid under your tongue. Something in your throat.

You slowly swallow the rest of the mixture in the glass. Now you just have to wait. You fall asleep.

Alone.

But you won't wake up on your own. Eternal peace. Eternal peaceful sleep.

Maybe it'll be better if there's anything waiting for you afterward. If only this pain would go away.

That's what you're counting on. Well, you haven't been good at math since kindergarten.

Day 732

Finally, after a long while of walking, with a feeling of fear, with the gun pointed at your back, you reach the door of the building. With a deep sigh, slightly irritated by this whole protracted situation, you open the door

“Hey guys, come out.”

With irony in your voice, you look at the man standing at a notable distance from you.

"You see? Like I said, no one. here. There isn't"

You say angrily, clenching your fists. After a few moments, you turn on your heel and cross your arms over your chest, waiting for Ghost to move. Whatever was going on in his head right now was starting to irritate you. Constant silence on his part, and when he did have something to say. It was his words that were cold, harsh. Angry, rough commands. He addresses you without respect.

In fact, he treats you worse than a dog.

“I'll shoot you if no one comes out soon."

Ghost adjusted the gun resting on his shoulder, still aiming at you.

“No one will come out of this building...”

You sigh.

“...maybe you'll finally believe me and we'll end this nonsense? If this is how you host all your guests. I'd rather not know how my predecessors ended up.”

You add, exhaling loudly through your nose

“And I don't really want to find out”

While waiting for the man's reaction, you look at him closely. Why is he so hostile? Why does he still not believe you?

Yes, no one had the right in these strange times to trust anyone or anything, however, you appeared in the area defenseless. Without any weapons. You didn't even think to bring a knife with you. Nothing for possible self-defense. So he, after all, was just plain stubborn.

Finally, the man slowly, silently approaches you and searches the inside of the building.

Of course there is no one inside.

Paying no attention to you, the masked man turned around and moves back toward the vehicle.

“Let's go. There's not much time left.”

He throws over his shoulder in your direction. Nothing more, no apologies, you're right. I believe you now. No remorse, no understanding. Heartless, strange, Ghost.

As you sit next to the dog, with your back to the boot, the man starts the car with a squeal of tyres. The speed of the car is definitely higher. You are going too fast, even though there are no other road users besides you. It's as if Ghost is racing against the setting sun. Every now and then he nervously checks his watch and turns his head over his shoulder, towards the western sky. And so on and on.

The streets grow darker and darker. Night is coming. Nightfall.

This time you are heading in a different direction from the centre. A new, unfamiliar one. With Riley at your side, you watch the changing landscape with curiosity. Crowded, densely built-up streets with many tall buildings turn into new suburbs. Single family houses and wide pavements with overgrown yards appear before our eyes. This must once have been a nice, quiet and green neighbourhood. Families with children probably spent their best moments here, enjoying a happy life together. The middle class probably lived here and worked hard for every square metre. After school, children rode their bikes on the wide streets or ran on the green, evenly mowed lawns.

Once. Past. Memories.

Finally, after several minutes of crazy driving, the man parks the car next to one of the houses. Hurriedly he gets out and opens the garage door with a flourish.

Ghost quickly pulls in and reaches for the dog and pulls him out of the trunk. He puts him in another car, parked in the garage next door.

“Hurry up, we don't have much time.”

With that, Ghost opens the passenger door and gets behind the wheel without waiting for you.

When you change to a smaller vehicle and sit on the passenger side, you ask in surprise

“Why a we changing the car? What's going on?"

He doesn't answer anything, he rushes away. He drives for a while, again, in silence you notice him circling the area. You definitely pass the same house several times.

“Why are we driving around?”

You ask with a little fear. From minute to minute, every behavior of a man causes increasing nervousness in your body. Again, you find his behavior strange, irrational.

‘We need to confuse the trail, cover our tracks.’

The man finally speaks up and after a few moments stops at the next house.

‘Stay in the car and don't go anywhere, understood?’

Ghost quickly picks up Riley and, with the dog in his arms, marches quickly in an unknown direction. Disappearing from your sight after a moment. You're left alone, in the car, in an unknown place.

The sun was almost below the horizon, a small red glow gently illuminated the wide street.

Suddenly, the door opens on your side and you jump in your seat, slightly scared. Seeing the now familiar, masked figure, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Shit!”

You clutch your chest, mumbling.

“Put this on your shoes and walk fast, damn it.”

The man hands you something like hospital slippers. You quickly put them on over your shoes. Hearing his voice, you know perfectly well that there is no time for discussion. Time is running out.

"Pull your hair back or keep it out of the wind and follow me quickly. Don't you dare turn around and stop!"

The man grabs you by the elbow and pulls you out of the car. He moves quickly, taking quick and decisive long strides. Compared to his legs, yours are considerably shorter than his, you practically have to run to keep up with his pace.

Not only do your legs hurt, but you are simply out of shape. Many weeks of trekking to this city and saving the portions of food you took with you. And also, the nerves caused by today have left you simply out of shape, out of strength.

Stumbling, your legs slowly give up and you hold your hair with one hand to keep it from being blown away by the wind, as commanded. You try not to fall behind the man.

At one point, Ghost slows down for a moment and turns his head, looking behind him.

“Damn it, faster.”

Regardless of your protests, he grabs you and lifts you off the ground.

"Hold on to me and don't let go."

He energetically grabs your hips and lifts you up, pulling your body towards him. He squeezes your plump body hard, digging into your skin. He's practically running now. You hold on to him, praying that he doesn't fall under the pressure of your weight or suddenly drop you.

However, nothing of the sort happens, and you both quickly reach one of the larger houses in the area. The only thing that distinguishes it from the others. Apart from its size, is that it has massive shutters and is not as overgrown with weeds as the others in the area.

The man opens the door locks, with one hand, and hurriedly enters the house. Finally, he sets you down on the floor, mumbles something unintelligible under his breath. He closes first one front door and then another, more massive one with multiple security features.

The room goes dark.

‘Where are we?’

You finally ask hesitantly, catching your breath. You didn't even notice when you held your breath.

‘In my house.’

He answers briefly and walks past you into the cramped vestibule, deep into the dark hallway

‘Take off your shoes and jacket, leave them here. Follow me.’

Ghost's house is warm and somehow strangely cozy. Standing in the doorway of the living room, while the man hastily closes the shutters and before the room goes completely dark, you try to look around. Get acquainted with the new surroundings.

The interior is decorated in a simple style. Plain, single-coloured shelves. The dark furniture bends slightly under the pressure of the collected objects. Against the walls, where there is no furniture, stand towers of neatly arranged things. There were a lot of objects here. Everything neatly, perfectly arranged. Books, CDs, clothes, bins, boxes containing other things (rather essential for survival and ordinary daily needs). Everything neatly and evenly grouped. You will not be surprised if you find that the man has everything carefully catalogued. So if you were to ask him for a small lithium battery of the CR1620 type, he would certainly find it in a few moments, without hesitation.

Despite the large number of items stored, the space does not seem cluttered. In the middle of the room is a large dark sofa with a small coffee table, opposite one of the walls on which is a large flat-screen TV. Looking to your right, you notice a slight glow and notice that instead of another wall with lots of cupboards and shelves filled in, there are open double sliding doors that lead into the kitchen. Now that glow reaches you, it's the light from the LED lamps above the worktop, slightly illuminating the distant room. You make a mental note to ask the man later where he gets his electricity from. Because he definitely has some sort of energy source. So it's not just the tower you were in last time that has a power source. It looks like this house has been inhabited for a long time and is definitely set up to live in such apocalyptic conditions for a long time. Rather, you could ask the man if he found this house by chance. Did he know about this building beforehand, and if not, how did he know to prepare so much?

Maybe he was one of those weirdos who believed every conspiracy theory, every rumour. Perhaps he was once in some sect that spoke of the imminent end of the world.

When Ghost finishes closing the shutters, the room is completely dark. You don't even hear the man moving around the room because suddenly you hear his low voice from behind you.

“Follow me, you need to wash up.”

It's only now that it's come to you. That's right. You must stink badly. Now the smell must be clearly noticeable in an enclosed room.

You feel a wave of shame sweep over you. Your cheeks are definitely red.

So many days of wandering, sleeping anywhere, as long as there was a roof over your head.

When you set off, you didn't take too many things with you. You mainly packed food, a sleeping bag and one thick sweatshirt, which usually served as a pillow. In order not to carry too many weight in your rucksack. You did not take excess clothing, but only the most necessary things to survive. You didn't expect to find much food along the way that was still edible. You didn't know how long the trek would take. However, you didn't think it would be that long. Too long.

So you turn away in shame, lowering your head, even though the house is dark, you are afraid of the man's gaze. You feel your way towards where the Ghost's voice had just come from.

You feel embarrassed about yourself, you must have, well literally, stank. You can't even remember the last time you washed yourself properly. Before setting off, you managed to heat up the water you had collected and washed yourself thoroughly in the bath. You don't even remember how many days ago that was. Too long ago to remember.

You have quite long hair, which you had tied up in a braid for days without even untangling it or combing it every day. Now many strands have fallen out of the braid, in fact, even your hairstyle looked more like your hair was loose than braided.

But the fatigue and frustration of the ongoing journey had subsided and you no longer cared about looking presentable. You didn't expect to meet anyone.

Seeing the soft light that spread a pleasant warm and yellow aura in the narrow corridor. You slowly approach the open door. Finally you hear the clear voice of a man from deep in the room, and he speaks to you again in the same dark and monotonous voice.

“Take a bath, you have everything you need in the bathtub”

Then, following his voice, you enter a slightly lit room.

It is a large bathroom decorated in a minimalist style. Dark tiles and silver fittings. No windows, no shelves of supplies. Simple minimalist interior.

A man stands next to a large free-standing bathtub. Without waiting for your answer, he leaves and speaks again.

“Wait a few minutes, the water needs to heat up”

Before you can say anything, Ghost pushes past you and closes the door behind him.

You stand in the room for a few moments, you feel so unreal and strange. As if you were in some hotel. On a special vacation.

There was a time, well, you hardly even remember, when you had things like hot water, warmth, a house without a dripping roof and just a safe space. Everything is prepared and at your disposal. You don't have to search for anything. Scouring shops and houses to find the thing you need like shampoo, toothpaste or a hairbrush.

You sit down on the closed toilet, gently remove your gloves and place them on the sink, having to wash them by hand to put them back on as quickly as possible.

You struggle to remove your shoes, and a terrible sight appears to your eyes: socks that were probably white were now a mixture of several colours. Brown, greyish black or crimson. With great difficulty you remove the sock, hissing loudly in pain. The cotton material has stuck to the dried blood, fusing with the cotton material of the sock and with your foot. Some of the wounds are reopening. Most of the nails are practically black. They are likely to fall off soon. Now that your feet are finally uncovered and you are free to lay them on the cold stone tiles on the bathroom floor. You breathe more deeply.

Cursing under your breath, you try to undress. You slowly stand up, shaking on your swollen legs. It seems to you that it is even worse than when you had tightly knotted shoes on your feet the whole time.

After a few moments, you slowly reach for the rest of your clothes and slowly undress, throwing your dirty clothes on the floor. The last layer of clothes, the one closest to your skin, has practically stuck to it. The material is wet, as if greasy and even hard in some places, soaked through with the sweat that your skin has secreted over many weeks.

When you finally manage to undress, with shaking legs you walk over to the bath and sit down on its edge. As you turn on the tap you almost sob with joy. It's been a long time since you've seen running water. Hot straight from the tap. It used to be a normal thing that attracted attention, today it's an incredible luxury.

You hesitantly reach your hand under the flowing stream of water and shiver with pleasure. It's really, really warm. You don't even know what you're going to say to Ghost when you get out after your bath. You are so grateful to him. There are no words now to describe your joy and gratitude over such a trivial matter as this bath.

You reach for the bottle standing next to the bath. A 3-in-1 body wash. For men. Well, you can't have everything. But even if you only had warm running water at your disposal, you wouldn't mind at all.

When the bath fills to the bottom, you slowly step into it and sit down. Despite the growing tingling on your skin and the pinching of your wounds. You lean more comfortably against the tub, tilt your head back and close your eyes. You finally feel comfortable and can relax, at least for a while. Your muscles and injured skin, although they seem to hurt less for a while, can finally rest.

Hot water heats the bathroom, slowly steam appears in this small space, it becomes stuffy.

The bath takes a really long time. You contemplate how the water will slowly warm your frozen, swollen body. You wash every inch of your body thoroughly. The gel smells nice, you can feel lavender and sandalwood.

You don't care that a man might be angry with you and full of further resentment. Because you spent so much time in the bathroom. That you used too much water.

It feels so wonderful. Blissful. You finally wash your greasy and tangled hair and massage your scalp. You feel tears coming to your eyes. For the first time in you don't know when, you feel safe, just clean and comfortable. You allow yourself moments of weakness.

Relaxed, you fall asleep, but unfortunately the bad memories haunt you once again.

Days 64-66

You

You didn't see how long it would be before these peculiar cocktails full of anxiety would kick in, so you chose the closest place that seemed comfortable. The sofa in the living room.

Lying down, you hugged one of the cushions you had taken from your parents' bedroom earlier. It was big, soft and smelled like.... Mum. Home. The closeness. Security. Stability. All the good things that no longer existed.

You don't know how much time has passed, each passing minute seems like an eternity.

Eventually your eyelids become heavier and heavier. Your breathing slows down. You fall asleep. Hoping forever.

Unfortunately, you were wrong, the mixture of drugs was not what you expected. You wake up with a terrible, huge stomach ache, headache, nausea. You don't even have the strength to open your eyes.

You vomit. You can't collect your thoughts, you don't know what's going on. There is only one thing in your head: pain, pain, pain.

All this goes on for hours, moaning in pain, nausea, fainting. Breathing problems come on suddenly, convulsions occur.

Everything is one long agony.

This is not how it was supposed to be.

You were not meant to suffer.

Tears run down your cheeks, mixing with the vomit that is practically everywhere. You must have fallen off the couch. You don't even feel yourself hitting the floor.

Everything hurts so much.

You fall asleep for brief moments. It all continues, the pain, the crying, the momentary loss of consciousness and then back again. Vicious circle. Endless.

When it all goes away for a while, you don't have the strength to get up, you stare at the white ceiling. Your heart beats fast.

Night and day pass. In the end, everything slowly subsides. This time you have failed. Something gave you another chance. Maybe there was a reason that you survived after all.

Days 732

You

You wake up abruptly and only after a while do you remember where you are. The bath water is already cold. You sit up shrinking your legs, hugging your legs tightly to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them. You bury your head, trying to make the bad memories disappear, hide, or preferably erase them from your mind.

It's not just the constant, daily nightmares that remind you of the ordeal that day. When you swallowed the ground pills and the wrong mixture caused one of the side effects to appear. That night you lost some of your hearing.

Maybe it was a punishment, or maybe it was meant as a reminder. It's not worth it. You shouldn't. No.

You will never forget.

Once the water is very cold, we get out of the bath. Although your body has thankfully relaxed a little. You wrap yourself in a towel and look around the bathroom. No sign of a change of clothes. After all, you're not going to parade around in a small towel that barely covers your pudgy body.

Slowly, hesitantly, you open the bathroom door, wanting to call out and ask a man for clean clothes. Because there is no point in wearing the old ones. They are fit to burn at most. You don't believe that even the best washing machine and detergents can cope with such dirt that has dried for weeks.

Looking down the corridor you notice a few changes. The corridor is softly lit, no longer dark.

And the other thing is that there is a chair opposite the bathroom door.

And on it lie nicely stacked brand new clothes, deodorant and a toothbrush. Next to it lie plasters, bandages and wound disinfectant.

You look around the corridor, but there is no one there but you.

In the distant kitchen you hear the clink of plates and cupboards being opened. You think you hear the clatter of Riley's claws walking quickly across the kitchen floor, a very familiar sound, something known from the past.

In addition to the symphony of sounds, your nostrils are filled with a smell. Food. Dinner. Definitely a warm meal. It's all so unreal, ordinary, idyllic. So innocent and mundane. As if those two years never happened, as if you were spending your weekend off gossiping at a friend's house. And you weren't struggling in drudgery and terror to survive.

Hurriedly, feeling your stomach growl with hunger, you pick up the things Ghost left for you from the chair. You glance at the tag of one of the clothes, not only were they the right size, they were from a really good and expensive company.

Returning to the bathroom you smile slightly, hugging the fresh and tactile clothes.

Well, maybe meeting and visiting Ghost's house wasn't as bad as you thought at first.

And maybe under the mask he wasn't such a scary person after all.

taglist:

@leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles @vmaxis @poohkie90 @ghostlythots @nobodys-coffee @famouscattale @youdontneedtoknow1226 @pimpinsins @justguessfan @novasilvae @pausbirudanlumbalumba @ella2497 @lunamoonbby @sams-pineapples @tonylagsagne @lurkinwbreexy

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

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electrikworm · 1 day

Text

Human Shield: Part 1

Since Wrecker can remember, he's put himself in harms way to protect his brothers. He always knew he'd be the one to execute plan 99.

When things start going wrong on a mission, Wrecker comes to understand that the day for that sacrifice has come

Or how Wrecker got his scar.

Content warning: Self-sacrifice, thoughts about dying

Decided to post this in multiple parts, mainly because I wanted to share this bit already :)

Inspired by this post by @squad-724

Enjoy :)

Read on Ao3

The last few droids present panic at the alarm, leading to them being easier targets than usual. Even through his armor, Wrecker can tell the air is getting dangerously hot around them. They haven't got long. Thankfully, it isn't far to the exit.

When they were growing up, it didn't take long for Wrecker to be much bigger than his brothers. So, he started shielding them. It became one of his unspoken duties.

Wrecker tanks hits and draws fire whilst his brothers complete their objectives. It feels right, quickly becoming second nature. Wrecker knows that's why the Kaminoans made him this way.

As useful as his knowledge in weaponry and explosives is, that usefulness pales in comparison to his brothers abilities. He can arm and disarm bombs as fast as he likes, Tech's mind, Crosshair's sharpshooting and Hunter's senses are what get missions done.

But Wrecker can keep them alive. That's what his enhanced abilities are really about.

At some point during their cadet years, Tech started a digitalized and numerically ordered list of their plans. It grew along side them, some plans so obscure they'd never get to use them, some just added as a joke.

They all have favourites, plans they've been waiting to call for years. Wrecker has favourites too, mostly ones that allow him to show off his expertise in demolitions. But the one plan Wrecker considers his plan, the one he'll have to execute one day, is the one he likes least.

Plan 99, the plan to lay your own life down for your brothers, for the mission.

Wrecker always knew the day would come, and when it does, he'll be ready to do what he needs to do. For his brothers.

He has a bad feeling about the mission from the start. Something feels off. Hunter feels it too. He seems on edge.

Everything goes normally, well even, for most of the mission. But Wrecker stays alert. And it's a good thing he does.

The room where everything goes wrong houses a generator of some kind. Huge and powerful, large pressurized tanks fuelling it. They cross half the room fine, taking out droids as they go. But then a siren starts blaring, and the large machine makes unnerving noises.

It's overheating, going to explode. Wrecker's the first to understand what's happening, yelling for his brothers to run, get out of there as fast as possible. It's unclear weather the reason for the danger is a trap set for them, or a genuine malfunction. They don't have the time to consider that.

If those doors don't close, they're all dead. As fast as Wrecker and his vode can run, they'll never get far enough away from the explosion. With the door shut, there'd be a buffer between them. Wrecker internally curses the separatists for their bad safety measures, even if there's a high chance this was done on purpose. Wrecker tries the door once more, to the same result.

They clear the room, Wrecker slowing down to make sure his brothers get out. But when he goes to shut the heavy blast doors on the generator, something's wrong. It won't stay closed. It shuts, but then it hisses back open sluggishly.

The rest of his squad don't seem to have noticed, still running on.

It suddenly hits him that there's no way they're all leaving here alive, that this is the day Wrecker's been aware would come. This time when the two sides of the door slide closed, Wrecker grabs hold of them, pressing them together. His arms burn with the strain, but Wrecker pays the feeling no minds. It's not like he'll live to experience the consequences.

A strange calm washes over Wrecker. He's spent so long thinking about this day, about dying for his brothers, that the feeling's almost familiar. It's strange, thinking that he woke up that morning, not knowing he wouldn't live to see another.

He had plans, things he thought he'd do. They'd picked up some interesting fruit the day before and Wrecker was looking forward to trying them. He'd also promised Tech he'd help do maintenance on the Marauder. He'll have to manage without Wrecker, though he's sure Tech will do fine on his own.

Wrecker rests his helmet against the door. He can't tell if he's imagining it, or if he really can feel the heat from the other side through the metal. He briefly wonders what will kill him first, the explosion, or the ceiling's imminent collapse. Either way, he's going out with a bang. How in line with his personality and interests that is almost makes Wrecker laugh.

It's a stupid thought, but for a moment, Wrecker considers what will happen with the stuffed toys he's collected over the years. They take up a decent amount of storage space on the Marauder, so it would make sense for his vode to get rid of them. Wrecker hopes they keep Lula. His brothers made her, so she's special. She also doesn't take a lot of space.

“Where are you Wrecker?” Hunter's voice over the comm channel startles Wrecker. He sounds almost irritated. It dawns on Wrecker that he completely forgot to announce what he's doing.

“Plan 99. Finish the mission without me.” There's a slight tremor to Wrecker's voice thanks to the strain of forcing the door shut. He's entirely composed otherwise.

“What?” Crosshair hisses.

“What do you mean 'plan 99'?” Hunter asks, throwing Wrecker somewhat. He didn't think Hunter would forget a plan, he never has before.

“Self-sacrifice, remember?” Wrecker says, trying to remind his ori'vod.

“We know that Wrecker.” Tech says.

“You're not dying today, vod.” Hunter says. “Get your shebs over here, and that's an order.”

Wrecker laughs. “Can't do that, sarge. Door won't close, and if it doesn't, the fire'll just funnel though the corridor and kill us all.”

“Wrecker.” Hunter's tone is warning.

“I can hold them closed.” Wrecker says, sighing softly to himself. A metallic creak resonates behind the door. He's not got much longer, but his brothers will be safe. “It's what I'm made for.”

For a moment, Wrecker hears the commotion of his brothers talking over each other, then, it's all drowned out as the generator finally gives out. The explosion is deafening, unbearable heat enveloping Wrecker as the door warps and breaks under the pressure. Pain grips Wrecker's body like a vice, the world around him still impossibly loud as the building caves in.

Then, everything goes black and Wrecker is plunged into nothingness, thoughts of his brothers safety quieting any fear that threatened to rise in his chest in that final moment.

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb wrecker #wrecker whump #self sacrifice #my writing

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bravo4iscool · 16 hours

Note

Hey , you can just say Au, where call-off-duty work in an office (more precisely, according to my idea, they get a new job), they come to a new place, they are met by the boss (Reader)

Tall,fem! reader, who is dressed in an office suit(?) (I really don't know what they're wearing), a bright blue shirt with a slightly open fly, a jacket, and a skirt just above the knees (damn,shit what's it called? A pencil skirt? Bro I don't I know, in general, the skirts that office women wear in movies :/)

(König, Soap, Ghost and, and others, you can choose any, honestly it doesn’t matter to me!:)

this is amazing! i really like this request🤭.

and yes they’re called pencil skirt hahaha.

(i hope you can forgive me that i didn’t include könig. i’ve never played him and don’t know much about him, that’s why he isn’t present here😭)

i hope it turned out the way you imagined it :)) (this is all in the same universe btw!!)

tag list: @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @bumblebeesfromvenus

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

simon “ghost” riley

he didn’t want to take the job. he never was one for office jobs or generally any thing involving sitting and writing.

he didn’t push all the paper work down to poor recruits because he felt like it. he hated paper work with all he had and now he was sitting in a office, in some chic skyscraper, waiting for his new boss to arrive.

damn price for throwing this job at him.

simon was sitting at his desk, playing around with the pen in his hands. he felt so free to already do background checks on all his coworkers but while he searched everything for intel about you—he found nothing. not even a single crumb. that was weird…

and then you walked in. blue blouse, a damn right pencil skirt and your hair pulled into a neat bun. you have a bunch of files under your arm and your phone in the other hand.

you walk straight towards his desk and he doesn’t know what to think. you were so, so—he couldn’t find the words. he’s never met anyone that held themselves the way you did.

you smile at him and plant the files in front of him. “lieutenant riley?” you ask and he nods. “great! john told me you’d be here today. i have this bunch of mission reports that need to be looked at.”

again, simon just nods and grabs the files. “and then?” he finally finds his voice.

“you need to look for any discrepancies. these files are maybe the only change we can win this case,” you explain. “you’ve been in the military for long, haven’t you?”

“yes ma’am.”

you give him a relieved smile and simon feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “then you know what to look for, right?”

“absolutely,” he confirms and nods.

you wipe a strand of hair out of your face. “amazing! let me know if you find anything.” you pat his shoulder and turn to leave. simon wants to start reading already but then you stop. “oh, and lieutenant riley,” you catch his attention. “i’m glad you’re on board for this case.”

simon smiles and gives you a small salute. ‘call me simon,’ he thinks but then you’re already gone.

john “soap” mactavish

“you recommended me to a law firm?” soap raises his eyebrow in a questioning manner. simon nods and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“‘s the same one i work for,” he tells his best friend with a shrug. “i’m sure they’ll be happy t’ave ya.”

soap frowns and plays with the rim of his whiskey glass. “why would they? i haven’t studied law.”

simon huffs and rolls his eyes. “‘nd ya think i did? they’re workin’ on expandin’ their military law wing. they need more experts than j’st me,” simon explains while he downs his glass of whiskey.

the younger man thinks for a second before he signs. “they’re paying good?” he asks and his best friend immediately nods.

soap was here. he really was here waiting to meet the boss of the law firm. he didn’t know much about her, expect from what simon told him…

after a few minutes he hears the door behind him open. “sargent mactavish,” a friendly voice calls out and soap stands up to turn around.

towards him walking are you, your signature pencil skirt and blue blouse. today you fly was slightly open and soap needed to force his eyes back onto your face. holy heaven, you were something.

“hello ma’am,” he clears his throat as he extends his hand. “a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says and you smile while you return the hand shake.

you walk around him to take a seat behind your desk. “the pleasure is all mine! i’m glad lieutenant riley recommended you. your war crime wing is expanding and when i told him he immediately thought about you!”

you quickly sort through a couple of files before you look at him again. “if i understand correctly you and lieutenant riley served together?”

soap nods and folds his hands in front of his lap. he was having a hard time to concentrate. you were just—you were a woman. a real woman.

“great!” you smile. “i will show you your workplace then!”

kyle “gaz” garrick

“simon,” you sigh. “are you really trying to convince me to hire your whole team?” you tilt your head at the lieutenant in front of you.

he shrugs, “maybe…”

“i though you and john were mastering the work alone?” you lean back in your chair. “i can always send one of my people over.”

simon shakes his head. “i want kyle,” he says—his voice barely leaving room to argue.

you sigh again and massage the bridge of your nose. “simon…”

“j’st f’r this case,” he tells you. “ya can let ‘im go after that.” the look in his eyes is pleading and you curse yourself for letting him have such power over you. “i need him.”

“this case,” you agree after a few moments of thinking. “and this case only.”

you walk into the office you have simon and john for their work. you open the door and three pairs of eyes snap towards you.

you give simon and john an acknowledging nod before you turn to the third man—must be kyle. “sergeant garrick?” you ask and he nods. “good. there are a few things we need to clarify before you’re allowed to work on the classified files,” you explain and gaz shoots a look towards simon. the older man gives him a small nod and gaz stands up.

“of course ma’am,” he slightly bows his head and crosses his hands behind his back. he was having a hard time concentrating… he knew about you from what soap and simon had told him but damn. that skirt was wrapping around your hips like it was tailored just for you and the way it highlighted curves–gaz felt like he was living a dream.

you immediately notice the way the sergeant is looking at you and you clear your throat. “sergeant garrick, you might want to look at my face when i talk to you.” his eyes widen in shame and he's lucky one can't see when he's blushing.

“of course ma'am. i apologize!” he trains his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way soap was snorting out a laugh behind him. he thought he was being subtle. probably not so...

captain john price

“lieutenant riley told me to deliver these files to him,” price groans when the woman at the reception didn't let him through.

“i’m sorry sir but i’ve not been told about that,” she gives price an apologetic smile and continues typing on her keyboard.

price groans and massages the bridge of his nose. “this has to be a joke. either, you let me through to lieutenant riley or i’ll make a way myself and i don’t know which one you’d like better!” he bangs his hand on the counter.

when he gets nothing more than a scared look he takes a deep breath and just pushes past the counter. “everything you have to do yourself,” he whispers under his breath.

moments before he sees simon a voice bellows through the office space. “excuse me sir,” price twirls around. “i believe my receptionist asked you to remain where you were just minutes ago.”

price frowns and tilts his head. “and i believe i asked to speak with lieutenant riley since he requested me to deliver these files personally.”

you shake you head and walk towards him. “i didn’t know that lieutenant riley runs this firm.” a smirk creeps onto your lips when you notice how the shock slowly shows on his face. “captain john price? or am i mistaken?”

price clears his throat and shuffles uncomfortably. “indeed ma’am. i am captain john price.” his eyes dart from your hips to your eyes and back to your cleavage. that blue blouse was really…working for you.

you nod and purse your lips. “well, captain price… in my law firm i believe in respect and respectful conversation.” you cross your hands behind your back. “what you are doing right now—“ you look him up and down “—is not respectful in any way.”

the captain swallows and averts his gaze. he’s never felt so ashamed before. what were you doing to him?

“everything you want to give to my lieutenant to can give to me.” you extend your hand. “or you learn how to talk and behave in the correct manner.” you raise you eyebrow in a questioning manner.

you know you got him when he takes a deep breath and straightens his back. “of course ma’am. i apologize.”

“great.”

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #call of duty #simon riley #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #gaz garrick x reader #gaz garrick x you #john price x you #john price x reader

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youronlylie · 9 hours

Text

hello people in my phone

BOONE head cannon list, just a mix of stuff that'll probably change later ( THERE WILL BE MORE ) 1/?

• He undoubtedly was ripped/heavily worked out being in the ncr, after moving to novac and loosing his wife he undoubtedly lost a lot of muscle but...guys he still is literally like beefed.

• He cannot fucking cook for shit, he understands what shouldn't be put in your body but from there he has no clue.

• Going off of cooking, he has strict times where he eats, like routine from the ncr.

• For some reason he strikes me as a guy who really enjoys fruit whenever he can get his hands on it.

• Cannot tolerate any sort of spice.

• Smells very mettalic, sweaty, like man must.

• Has a soft spot for cats.

• 1000% is not bald, just shaves his head as he probably prefers the look.

• I feel like with a romantic partner, since he isn't one much for talking his love language would be physical touch or gift giving, I could imagine him seeing stuff he knows they'd like and saving it for later, excited to see how they'd react.

• He would definitely have a special place in his heart for fantasy movies, he doesn't seem to be able to express himself well and I feel like the creativity of something like lord of the rings would get him going.

• I seriously cannot pick so I'll include both, he is either an extreme cuddler with a romantic partner or on very rare occasions, he's just terrible at expressing emotion.

• If the courier and him are something like romantic partners he'd definitely never be able to sleep, often awake staring and listening for noises, waiting for the next cascade of legionares but it never happens and he eventually learns that.

• I don't think he'd ever get married again unless it'd be over 20 or so years in the future, it's a type of commitment that I don't think he could mentally handle whatsoever unless he is totally over Carla.

• I definitely do think boone could find love again in another person, he's scared and alone, fearful for any sort of attachment.

• 10000% has really really nice man hands, like large hands with nice fingers.

• Is definitely tall but not close to arcade tall, 6' ish at MOST, I just feel like looking at his build and concept art that he is definitely a tall man.

• Secretly really has a thing for drawing whenever he can, especially when he was nested at novac, sitting up top the dinosaur scribbling stuff on old receipts or whatever else it helps him get his emotions and thoughts out.

• irl he would be so patriotic it's not even funny, like he'd go all out for fourth of July but is the somber type so he'd cook hot dogs and whatever else then sit in the corner and watch everyone else.

• Has a thing for memorizing features, very very very intuitive and will remember almost anything you tell him.

• He is so the type of guy to enjoy snow, like yeah he'd probably be kinda pissy for a bit but if you pushed his buttons enough I feel like he'd mess around with the courier.

• He absolutely like no doubt has nightmares, like the ones where you erupt in cold sweat and your throat is sore.

• If he does sleep like ever, along with nightmares he grips the sheets, rolls around a whole lot, mumbles. In the ncr he was the total opposite, stone faced, layed straight and slept some what peacefully until later on in his ncr years.

• Yearns for someone, even platonic, to just sit beside him, no words and scratch his back and kinda just touch him lightly. I don't think he'd cry but it's something I could imagine would bring him close to tears.

• He absolutely probably finds almost everyone annoying, like, he just is done with everything and doesn't give two shits about what anyone has to say unless the courier puts some sense into him.

• Really disagrees with gambling, just doesn't like it.

• Wishes he had a nice farm house, out somewhere away from everything, where it has everything he needs and could be away from absolutely everyone. ( of course after extracting revenge on the legion )

• He wants to learn how to play guitar, either he has tried and is horrible or has just never gotten the chance, I have a feeling he'd really be into (irl) like classic rock or something smooth.

• Cannot look at people with features his wife had the same, down to personality or looks.

• Absolutely dreads deep down without realizing going back to novac when the courier disbands him.

• He would like having books read to him, he's a listener not a reader, likes hearing people's voices just not his own.

• At a point probably had a nickname for his rifle, something like Beth or something that was a joke between him and Manny.

• Manny 1000% at a point tried hinting to boone or even confessing his love for him, either the point never got across or they got over it together. ( somewhat ish at a point )

• In all reality I play him out to be a really sweet guy, which I can imagine and he can somewhat tend to be but he ultimately really doesn't care, he'll kill in order to get what he wants ( so be it revenge or whatever else ) even if he isn't necessarily fond of it.

• At a point, consumed by guilt he forgets what Carla looks like and that eats him up inside, like the teeth gritting soul crushing ache for revenge, and a year or two leads him to completely forget her complexion.

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soupandsorcery · 17 hours

Text

Day 13 - Talisman, 763 words

They move to the couch again, keeping a distance from each other. Jamie would have this conversation curled up in Roy's lap if he could, but he can tell Roy needs some space right now, and that's okay.

He can give him that if it means he's going to tell Jamie what's going on in that beard-y head of his.

Wearing Roy's shirt still helps. It smells like him, and it's comfortable. Jamie lets his fingers stroke over the fabric, soft from being worn often, and it's a sort of talisman against the nerves still squirming in his gut.

"You ain't getting any younger, granddad," he teases, gently urging Roy on.

Roy grunts in response, his lips turning up at the corners. "I'm sorry," he says in that low, rumbling voice of his. "I know I'm being a prick. I keep trying to make decisions for you because— Fuck. Because you've got all this fucking potential, and there was no one around when I was your age to tell me not to run myself into fucking the ground or to stop and fucking think sometimes. I guess I got it in my head that I needed to do that for you."

Jamie's quiet for a moment, suddenly overcome with even more fondness for this prickly twat. Always wanting the best for Jamie, but somehow blind to the fact that he's on the list.

"I appreciate it, you know that, yeah? Everything you've done for me, all the ways you push me. Even when you're not letting me have any fun. I know you're doing it because you care."

"I do," Roy agrees softly. "I fucking care about you a lot. Probably too much."

"No such thing, Roy."

"There is," Roy insists. "Trust me. Me and Keeley...It was too much. I cared too much. Wanted to be around her all the time. She didn't like that." He turns his face away, and it's clear how much that still fucks with Roy's head.

"I'm not Keeley, though? I mean, I love her—not like that," Jamie rushes to say. "But she's...dunno. She's got her whole independent boss bitch thing going on, right? She wants to spread her wings and take the world by storm."

"And you don't?" Roy asks.

Jamie hums. Considers. "I do, yeah. I want to keep winning and keep showing off and keep being fucking amazing at what I do, but...I don't wanna do it alone, Roy. I want you to be there for all of it. You ever notice that we already spend basically all day together anyway?"

Roy snorts. "I've fucking noticed. You're always underfoot somewhere."

"Fuck off, you love it. And at the end of the day, I still wanna follow you home.

"You mean that." It's not phrased like a question, but Jamie can still hear the wonder in Roy's tone.

"Yeah, mate," he replies gently. "I wasn't kidding when I said I'm pretty gone on you. That's just...what that looks like for me. You make me feel good. Safe, like. I fucking love how intense you are about shit that matters. Makes me feel like I matter."

Roy exhales in a messy rush, but he finally looks at Jamie again. "You do matter," he says seriously. And then, "I do want you, Jamie. A whole fucking lot. I want you to follow me home, and I want to make you dinner. I want to be able to show you how fucking proud I am of you sometimes, when you're such a brilliant little prick out there on the pitch. I want to fuck you into my mattress again, and make good on your dream of me fucking you over the couch. Hell, I want to fuck you in every fucking room of my house. On every fucking surface."

"Fucking hell, Roy," Jamie breathes, smacked in the face by another wave of need.

"Too much?"

"Fuck no. Not complaining. You're just fucking getting me hot, and I'm gonna be properly pissed off if you're about to try to let me down easy."

"No. No, I want—I want to fucking do this. If you can put up with me being a miserable prick all the time."

He's quoting Jamie with that, and being so fucking open and honest that it takes Jamie's breath away. The worry of the last few days is melting away, and Jamie feels lighter than ever. They're going to work, the two of them, and it's going to be fucking mint.

"Nah," he says, grinning. "Gonna make you a whole lot less miserable instead."

#royjamie #jamie tartt #roy kent #transmasc jamie tartt #noah plays with words #long one for today but they had a lot to talk about!#going to take a little break from these since this is a nice place to rest for a bit #posting something every day is hard!

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ready-to-obeyme · 1 day

Text

(not) pleased to meet you

lucifer x reader

notes: gender neutral; an alternative first meeting, implied annoyance to lovers; pre-relationship; (feels slightly like crack but that's just lucifer having a hard time lol)

word count: ~1.3k

No matter how Lucifer likes to spin it years down the line, the truth is, it was annoyance at first meeting with you.

For the last few months before the beginning of the exchange program, he's been doubling down on more work (if that is even possible) trying to finalize the details. Picking you for a human representative at random was the last thing he had to do-- and Father forbid Diavolo ask him how he chose you. (He thinks the prince would get a kick out of it if Lucifer told him it was the first paper that landed on his foot after they all fell on the ground.)

Just when he thinks he can finally filch some responsibility to Mammon as your attendant when you're summoned down to the assembly room, Lucifer watches with quickly growing iritation as you insist Diavolo-- crown prince of the Devildom-- make additional accommodations before you spend the next year with the demon brothers.

"I mean," you say with growing distress, "you can't expect my family and friends to just be... okay with my sudden disappearance, right?"

Damn.

It's rather unfortunate you make sense with the points you bring up; Lucifer would have rather preferred to ignore you entirely and get on with everything. The feeling must have shown on his face because when you turn to look at him, you narrow your eyes in a way that almost mirrors his own displeasure.

Truly, Lucifer thinks seethingly with a charming smile now plastered on his face, an annoyance.

You turn from him quickly when Diavolo lets out a thoughtful hum, glancing at Lucifer with an otherwise well-disguised amusement had Lucifer not seen the expression numerous times before. It normally does not bode well for him.

"I must say, you've brought up rather important details to our attention," Diavolo begins. "I must apologize on all our behalf; we utilized the other human representative as the backbone for human accommodation, but perhaps he was not the best candidate for a normal human."

Curse that black-hearted sorcerer, Lucifer thinks instinctively. (In Purgatory Hall, Solomon sneezes twice in the middle of baking fresh cookies for his new angelic roommates.)

"That's alright," you say in relief. "Glad you're so understanding. So you can send me back--"

"And Lucifer will accompany you to the human world to tie those loose ends," Diavolo tells you cheerfully, and Lucifer watches as your expression freezes (in the same manner as his, most likely).

"Uh, what-"

"We discourage hypnosis on humans for the sake of better relations, but I think we can make this the exception." Diavolo nods, counting off his fingers the long list of 'loose ends' you so kindly provided to him not a minute earlier. "Your family, your friends, your work place, and wherever else you believe a long absence will be alarming, please allow Lucifer to help you make it more palatable. I would hate for you to be jobless or homeless when you come back, of course!" He laughs, and you can only smile back weakly, knowing when it's a losing battle, to Lucifer's surprise.

You look to Lucifer again then with a mildly defeated expression, and the smile Lucifer gives you then is just a smidge more genuine as it is wry.

You follow Lucifer quietly through the portal that connects the Devildom to the human realm, only always a few steps behind. You are quick to jump in and lead the way once you are near where you were first summoned, and for the most part, the journey is oddly quiet.

Lucifer rather expected begging, or at least, more insistence on not being a part of the exchange program since you were so adamant a few hours prior. He is allowed into your home and, with reluctance, into your room as you pack some ammenities and extra clothing for your stay in the Devildom. "It's messy; don't look," you tell him, waving your hand in his line of sight. "I haven't had time to clean it and, well, I probably won't have time to now either."

"Diavolo granted us a few days to... settle your matters," Lucifer explains, glancing over at your open closet, to which you stand up and futilely attempt to block his view. "You can afford to take the time to clean up."

It's amusing to see you embarrassed of an unkempt room of all things after standing up for yourself in a room full of demons, but perhaps that was simply another human peculiarity.

"You sound like my mom," you mutter.

Lucifer glares. "What?"

"Nothing!" You sigh, shoving a set of clothes into a suitcase. "By the way, you think you can convince my work place to give me a whole year leave of absence?"

"I don't see why I would be unable to," Lucifer replies, trailing off. He watches as you take a small photo album from your drawer and place it into your suitcase pocket delicately. Your expression is wistful - a far cry from your earlier determination or previous irritation. You obviously have reasons not to leave for the Devildom, which makes him all the more curious as to why you've come willingly to say goodbye. It makes him pause before saying your name.

It's only when you turn to him quickly that he realizes it's the first time he's used it. Lucifer clears his throat before continuing, "You seem... to be reacting well to the exchange program, despite your initial hesitance."

"Oh, well." You look down at your packed suitcase. "I just thought the idea sounded... rather nice," you say, "despite how inconvenient it's been for me." You zip it up swiftly, with a finality. "Peace in all three realms-- I like that... even though the knowledge that heaven and hell actually exists is insane--"

A human believing in the dreams of a demon and giving him the benefit of the doubt. You must either be brave or foolish for going along with it-- or maybe both, Lucifer thinks, watching you clear out your desk. Perhaps he had chosen right with you, even if it was technically at random. Perhaps it was fate to bring a human that would fit right into the Devildom.

You stand up and turn to him with your luggage packed and ready, and Lucifer realizes then how quickly his annoyance turned into genuine interest. It's ridiculous to think about. Him? Invested in the fate of a human? Are all of them like you, he wonders.

"This clean enough?" You say almost teasingly, and Lucifer looks around before giving you a smirk. He's pleased to see you look down, cheeks warm and expression embarrassed because of him, before he can even respond. (Perhaps you are not so infallible...)

"I expect this level of cleanliness when you live in the House of Lamentation," he tells you with amusement. "I'll be checking ever so often, so try to keep the mess to a minimum."

"You really are the eldest brother," you say with a surprising amount of exasperated fondness. Before Lucifer can register how that makes him feel, you walk past him, saying something about having someone take care of your pet, and the moment is gone.

He watches you flit back and forth between rooms, putting your life in a neat box before you return to the Devildom with him, and briefly, he wonders if you could help him keep his brother in check rather than the other way around.

He supposes he will just have to watch over you to see what happens.

#obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me #finally scratched the itch of mc being like eyo how abt my family lmao #i love annoyance to lovers 😍😍 mc is gonna annoy him to love fr #cheesed to meet u

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velvet-vox · 2 days

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My Top 10 Favourite Male Villains of all time.

"How arrogant of you to think that any of us are anything but irrelevant". -John Greer, Person of Interest (2011-2016).

There comes a moment in a blog's life where some things are just long overdue, and while the argument could be made that this happened way too early, I'd say that as long as this helps me to find my groove, I am free to experiment as much as I want.

So..... Villains.

Gotta love them. As long as I do not meet them in real life. This post is in particular about male villains since I have one dedicated to their female counterparts in the pipeline so expect that to come soon enough and for this part to be rewritten. By the way, "villain" is a generalisation, I can totally put antivillains, antagonists or more general antiheroes in this list; your definition of "Bad Guy" can vary greatly and so can mine, someone like Walter White from Breaking Bad could have made it in here. My taste is very unusual, so prepare yourself for some unexpected picks.

Also, since these are meant to be some big celebratory posts, for the occasion I'll reveal my Italian heritage and translate every line of dialogue in Italian and publish it separately with a link, so that English readers who are learning Italian can exercise.

But first, some honourable mentions:

Oropo (Wakfu): Once you see the number 2 spot for both this list and the female villains list you might notice a certain pattern regarding my personal preferences when it comes to which characters I tend to gravitate towards the most, but while we're just talking about this guy, I cannot stress enough the amount of wasted potential that lies within his concepts and execution. Really needed two seasons of 25 episodes each to explore it to their maximum.

Tai Lung (Kung Fu Panda): Really like him, but not as much as others, I'll explain it better in one of the entries of my villainesses list. Also, unironically I feel like he's too sympathetic for his own sake and the movie's.

Bill Chyper (Gravity Falls): It's been way too long since I watched Gravity Falls, I really can't give you an accurate opinion on this guy anymore.

Flintheart Glomgold (DuckTales 2017): That season 2 episode. If you know what I'm talking about, you KNOW. Also the music for that whole sequence was a banger, really driving home the deranged nature of that twist reveal.

Big Jack Horner (Puss in Boots The Last Wish): I feel like when people praise Jack for being a breath of fresh air in a stale environment, they often forget just how good of a villain he was in his own right without the larger industry wide void of truly devious antagonists that act out of pure malice.

The Wolf (Puss in Boots The Last Wish): Two villain entries from one movie? Of course it was gonna be The Last Wish, what else could it be? Honestly I don't even wanna talk about this guy, you need to experience the movie for yourself.

Rob (The Amazing World of Gumball): Everything I have to say about this guy gets talked about much better by the number 6 Spot on this list, but as it stands Rob was my first villain OTP and the guy who opened the box of Pandora for me on what an antagonist could and should be, since then my perception of villainy only widened and now I enjoy their role in a story in much different way.

And now, with that out of the way, let's finally start with the ranking of my personal favourite male villains of all time.

Major spoilers down below:

Number 10: Silco (Arcane)

This guy is the reason that brought me to specify who or what counted for this list as trying to simplify Silco into one specific group of characters is a challenge that can only end in a misunderstanding of what makes Silco such a complex and fascinating character with an amazing character arc, that ends with him not being redeemed, mind you, but allows the audience to grieve in such a way that would make a side character death jealous.

When writing an antagonistic character, Silco is my goal and high standard, and just for that he deserves all of my respect and endless praise.

Now, admittedly, Silco's arc takes a while to kick in, but it works out to his advantage by the end of it since you don't realise just how much you've grown to care for him until he's dead and you're left with the surprise.

10 out 10, the nation of Zaun would have been much better (worse) with him than with Vander.

Number 9: The Riddler (DC)

The Riddler is literally my ride or die villain, when I'm in the mood for him, he's literally my favourite antagonist ever; when I am not in the mood for him, I completely forget about his existence.

When compared to many other entries on this list, Riddler is definitely more on the pop culture side of antagonism, and when you've been around for almost a century, you tend to have many different versions of the same character written by different writers, so I wanted to highlight here my favourite versions of him:

Arkham Games: He's hilarious. He's not my ideal Riddler, but whenever he comes on screen, his whiny rat's ass voice stimulates my pheromones.

Batman The Animated Series: I've heard somewhere that this version of him is disappointing, and to that I'll say... yeah, but only when he wasn't on screen, because otherwise, he kind of slayed.

Matt Reeves The Batman: This is the version that rekindled my love for him after so long. Out of every interpretation of The Riddler throughout the years, this is the one version that treated Edward more as a character rather than an obstacle for Batman to overcome, and for that I'll be eternally grateful.

LEGO Batman The Videogame: My very first introduction to The Riddler and the Batman universe as a whole, this version has a permanent place in my heart , I love how much information and emotion you can get out of him by just looking at his mannerisms and quirks alone; unironically, being silent helps him reach that quote on quote idealised version of Riddler that I was talking about earlier.

Number 8: The Snatcher (A Hat In Time)

There are many things that can carry on a villain in a story, their evolution, stage presence, complexity, thematic contrast to their counterpart, and so on and so forth. While an antagonist can check off many of these boxes simultaneously (like the one pictured), there's one box that is almost impossible to truly nail perfectly: comedy.

You see, comedy is subjective, and when your main antagonist is also the funniest part of a given story, it becomes hard to also match a sense of gravity and menace that allows them to also be an imposing threat, even harder is to give said antagonist depth and a tragic backstory.

But somehow, out of nowhere, The Snatcher from A Hat In Time manages to simultaneously be the funniest character in his section of the game, carrie said energy throughout the whole experience even down to the DLC, simultaneously strikes the balance between being scary, wholesome, sympathetic and tragic, exude an insane amount of charisma, all while having a deeply disturbing backstory that touches on some heavy themes and re contextualises his actions into something more complicated and out of a broken man, everything I just said + he's the biggest bastard in his videogame and never repents nor does he have his actions called out.

Snatcher really has all the right cards that make a stationary character work and uses them to his maximum potential, and it works because his character arc throughout the game is more about becoming affectionate to Hat Kid than it is about redeeming himself.

Lastly, his voice actor, Luke Sizemore, aka Yungtown, really sells the performance of this devious soul eating worm and burns his catchphrases into your brain for the rest of eternity.

Fool.

Number 7: Judge Claude Frollo (Hunchback of Notre Dame)

You can never say no to a classic.

There's nothing that I could say that hasn't already been said by thousands of videos on YouTube, but I'll try anyway: you see, Frollo is the reason why we need a new term to identify certain villains that aren't "sympathetic" but still make you feel some sort of human emotion and a form of "I wish someone could give you the care you need to fix your life", I guess the term empathetic exists, but when do you really see it used?

Now, don't get me wrong, Frollo is absolutely not sympathetic in the slightest, he wants to r##e a Romani woman that's way younger than him, but you can still feel that he's very troubled about it in the Hellfire scene and has definitely a lot of unidentified issues and internalised bigotry that could be worked through, even if it's too late to work through them right now.

In general, I feel like people forget that the main reason why past Disney villains worked had to do more with their human traits juxtaposed to their malice rather than just their plain wickedness, otherwise the Horned King from the Black Cauldron would be top of the Disney villains league and that couldn't be further from the truth.

We should really strive towards writing more villains like Frollo, less omnipotent beings that end up falling flat because they don't have much thematic relevance aside from being a threat (Bill Chyper works because he represents Ego and he's used sparingly) and more average vicious individuals who use their power and influence to get what they want.

All in all, if you've seen The Hunchback of Notre Dame, then you know why this guy is here.

Number 6: The Spot (Spider-man across the Spiderverse)

"You've hit me with a bagel!" It's still the greatest villain origin story of all time. There's truly something maniacal about this reveal, like the entire universe was shattered and reality was shocked at the mere realization that while Miles was having his coming of age moment back in the first film, this guy was having his normal life completely and utterly shattered by a combination of both our heroes stepping up to do the right thing and our doofus lack of foresight and self reflection; all of this stuff is hilarious and completely made up for the film but good god they did such an amazing job tying all the elements together in an unexpected way that makes sense and parallels the journey that our protagonist faced in the first movie.

Like with Rob from The Amazing World of Gumball, and a little bit like number 2 on this list, I just really enjoy the concept of turning background characters who had no relevance whatsoever into the big bad of the story who's been there all along and the heroes (and the audience) just couldn't notice.

With The Spot in particular, there's that sense of satisfaction of turning the wasted potential of a villain who has been underestimated for literal decades and treated as a "villain of the week" (God do I love the meta narrative of this movie) into an actual competent, well written antagonist that is aware of his reputation and strives towards bettering himself and his powers.

He's also the funniest character of his movie too and the voice acting of Jason Schwartzman only accentuates his mannerisms and pettyness.

He also has the coolest usage of portals I have ever seen and his whole "There's a hole inside all of us" is simultaneously hilarious and very deep personal information that can only be understood if you put yourself into his shoes.

Number 5: Lord Shen (Kung Fu Panda)

"Happiness must be taken. And I'll take mine"

.....

What a character.

What a movie.

You cause so much pain and suffering, because you don't understand the people around you, and then those people banish you, and you can't understand why, so you start to believe that they hated you.

They never loved you, so you keep causing pain and suffering but it's not that easy anymore; the guilt starts to resurface, all those bodies keep piling up, but you can't stop because then it would have all been for nothing; so you keep chasing those dreams of grandeur because that's all you have left; the emptiness in your heart can no longer be filled by love, so you try to fill it with something else.

You try to fill it with power. You try to fill it with glory. You try to take everything else for yourself so that you can fill that cup, but it doesn't work, because that cup has no bottom.

And so you're left... with yourself.

And the damage you've done. But now it's different; you've failed. You are left with nothing. Nothing.

And so you outrage, for the last time... And then it all ends. Forever. And you've finally come to accept this, after all....... Who could ever love you?

Number 4: Spamton G Spamton (Deltarune)

You know, in retrospect, it's kind of insane what Toby Fox managed to achieve when creating Spamton.

Not only because Spamton feels like the most insane combination of ideas ever conceived, but also because Toby Fox created such a complex character with such a complicated language and personality and then not only shafted it all aside for the players to go out of their way to interact, but also made all of this in what are officially 2 or 3 cutscenes at most (4 if you consider his shop encounter as one) and only one of them being truly mandatory.

You spend so little time with Spamton, and most of that time is spent fighting him, and yet by the end of it you've become enlightened by the knowledge of him, that after a while... you forget how scary it all was.

All the memes comparing Spamton with Turbo are 100% correct and justified, Spamton truly is Turbo but better; you go through an insane rollercoaster of emotions with this character that you are left absolutely dumbfounded when it all comes to a stop and you go back to play the rest of chapter 2 normally.

I'll admit, I've considered putting Spamton in place of the Number 3 spot on this list; but then I've realised that on an objective level, the next entry totally deserves to be ranked above Spamton; plus, with at least 5 more chapters of Deltarune on our way, whose to say that one of the next gremlins won't be able to dethrone even the number 1 spot?

Drumroll for our top 3:

Nox, the Watchmaker (Wakfu)

There will never be another experience in my life as cathartic as watching the first season of Wakfu for the first time ever again.

On a later rewatch, the initial problems of the problems you've noticed throughout the season become too apparent to ignore, but the first time everything that goes from the tournament to the finale is one of the best paced arcs of television, and everything that happens when the team reaches the Sadida kingdom is just peak Wakfu.

And the king, the culprit, the crown jewel of properly paced stories and arcs is no other than the sad clockwork dilf himself: Noximilliem Coxen the Watchmaker.

Arguably, the greatest sympathetic villain of all time. There has never been another case of a character who has committed such vile, unspeakable crimes, and yet still managed to make me root for them while simultaneously not putting down the heroes.

And let's not be mistaken here, Nox is pretty evil:

Aside from the generic murder, Nox also defiled and stitched together the corpses of multiple victims and turned them into his obedient puppets in order to commit even more murder and genocide in order to achieve his goals.

Also, this is one of the funniest crimes Nox has committed: he abused his dog. It's really not that funny nor that important in the context of the show, but if you look back at it from my perspective then it's really like: Oh yeah. That happened too. Lol.

By the way, he fixes the one problem I had with Tai Lung from Kung Fu Panda, where he's too sympathetic of an antagonist for Western audiences, so the writers had to go out of their way to make him more evil than he really was and that's why in retrospect his death scene really sucked, but with Nox his defeat may actually be the best part of his entire arc and I want a One Villainous Scene video with the "20 minutes" scene.

Words alone cannot do justice to the treacherous, gut wrenching emotional rollercoaster that is experiencing his story for the first time. An hour long video essay would only serve to cover the basics and fundamentals, while for the real deal you need to watch the first season of Wakfu for yourself.

Number 2:

Bradford Buzzard (DuckTales 2017)

And now it's the perfect time to pull out my final wild card, the hole of the sink of my autism, the masterpiece of wasted potential that is Bradford Buzzard from the DuckTales remake of 2017.

When you'll also see the number 2 spot on my villainesses list, you'll come to realise that this spot is more of the "I really wish I could put this at number one but I can't because objectively he doesn't deserve it and the majority of things I love about him in canon were probably an afterthought and in fanon were never plausible to begin with."

And that's how I feel about Bradford Buzzard, an antagonist I spent more time thinking about than probably anybody else on the Earth.

The show runners were so genius for this: we are going to create an original character that will probably struggle to maintain a foot print on the franchise due to the way the Duck verse works, we'll give him an insanely cool backstory and motivation, all coupled with interesting character traits and ideology, we'll make him the ultimate foil to Scrooge McDuck that has been working with him for literal decades, we'll make him the one who has got the closest to isolating Scrooge and destroying his family, and THEN we'll turn him into a generic anime villain that shoots lasers and fumbles his own plan and loses because of insane plot armour and contrivance. Good job writers.

And now, for the one and only,

Number 1:

(Note: I specifically chose this picture to avoid spoilers)

Qilby (Wakfu)

Boy oh boy, where do I even begin with this guy, he's the first Wakfu related post I've made on this blog for a good reason, nothing can compare to the level of bastardy that this thumb sucking old fart is capable of putting you through.

If Nox is the single greatest sympathetic villain of all time, then Qilby is by far the greatest twist villain of all time, and the crazy thing is that he surprises you two times in a row, at first by revealing himself as more evil than you could ever imagine, and the second time by being more complex than you could have ever anticipated.

Let me paint you the picture: you just finished the first season of Wakfu after being drawn towards the show by the hype surrounding Nox, so you think to yourself "Oh, now there won't be any more thought provoking, well written antagonists" and you start the second season.

So far, everything is normal, even better of the first season in terms of engagement value, but you can't help but feel the lack of a Nox like figure inside of the story, but at this point, you just accept it.

Then the final six episodes roll around and OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING, HAS THE WHOLE SHOW JUST GONE INSANE? ( The answer being that it was insane from the start)

But hey.

That's just Qilby for you.

Good job, you old sad bunny man.

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