#Enjoy ya bastards! (affectionate)

[insanity6666]

Molten Hearts 3

You explore one of the cities of Nocturne and fulfill an ancient tradition. Accidentally. Mostly.

Warnings: Near-death experience, and all that entails. Nothing graphic tho.

Quick authors note: Stuff has happened between the Office Confession and now, but that's mostly minor fluff-stuff, and I wanted to get this one out since it was gnawing on my brain. Enjoy.

Part 1, Part 1.5, Part 2

The caverns of Nocturne were truly something wondrous. Ceilings, both natural and carved, were so tall you could barely see them, even with the lighting dotted high on the walls. Stalagmites and stalactites reached for each other, some had been broken away while others were used in the construction or used in decorating the cityscape, many bearing carvings or paintwork. Some speleothems were used as columns, reinforcements built around them to better support whatever structure was going to be built around or above it.

You wandered the half-carved streets, the beginnings of buildings, homes, plazas, communal areas, all slowly taking shape. All waiting to be filled with colour and sound and people and life. You felt an almost childlike wonder at it all, at the skill you could see even in the rough hewn stone.

Vulkan had insisted you explore, not wanting you to remain cooped up on the Flamewrought, but had mentioned that the preparations for his home here weren’t quite ready. He had been so contrite, you knew something hadn’t quite gone to plan, and he likely wanted to surprise you with something… again. On top of all he needed to handle upon his arrival, you knew he would be busy. You had offered to stay with him and wait, but he had assured you it was alright, as you would only be bored and he could tell you were eager to get out and move after so long travelling in space. So, with young Kessok as your escort, you weaved through the city. Through markets and back-alleys and up towers and across strone bridges and wherever else your whimsy decided to lead you.

You had come across this area quite by accident. Kessok, a young Space Marine who had not even a year prior had passed his trials as a Neophyte and completed his transformation into an Astartes of the Salamanders, mentioned that expanding the city limits was a slow and often dangerous affair, and that he had not even been born when the work had begun. 

It was currently empty. Most work had been halted to celebrate the return of the Salamanders and their Primarch. You can’t imagine how the people will react when they hear he is courting a mortal.

Salt and Stars, you still can scarcely believe it, sometimes. When you wake or in the midst of your craft, you can’t help but expect to find out that it had all been a dream or some heat-induced imagining of some kind. But no, you turn around and find he’s left a sweet message, or has snuck in to watch you work. You wander into his office or invite yourself into his quarters (something that still rattles you, a little, even after the months since that conversation in his office), leave little gifts of your own or steal a few short minutes or a quick kiss before you are both pulled away by other obligations.

You let your fingers trail over stone, smooth and cool to the touch despite the warmth in the air. There were no lanterns, but the nearby lava flows create a warm, ambient light, and the uneven ceilings and walls of the half-carved cavern caused shadows to come alive and shift in an almost playful dance. 

“How long do these celebrations usually last?” You ask your guide as you walk along a low ledge that traces the edge of a large open area, full of pillars and columns in various states of completion.

Kessok, helmet off and weapons holstered, pondered the question for a moment. He was almost shy, his hesitant words were the closest you’ve ever heard an Astartes come to stuttering, but that reticence had faded over the hours you’ve spent traversing the city together.

“A day or two, on average. Longer if there has been some great victory or happening. Father usually attends these gatherings,” He must have noticed your shoulders droop a little, as he adds kindly, “though I suspect his attendance will be short-lived for this one. The rest of us will have to celebrate without him, I suppose.” The young Marines smile was one of amusement, light and teasing.

You couldn’t help the blush that stained your cheeks at his comment, but you gave a huff of laughter before turning back to the large plaza a short drop below.

“Will the lava… rivers? Be diverted or blocked, or shall they become part of the architecture in some way?” You touch his arm as you point to what you mean, and he gives an understanding hum as he leans down a little to answer you.

“Blocking them would be unwise, as that would only build pressure. Even if the seal itself doesn’t break, the building magma will only find a new exit. We-” Kessok cut himself off and grew quiet. The sudden silence was jarring enough to make you stop in your tracks, gooseflesh prickling your skin as you caught sight of his expression. His eyes far away as he gazed off to the side, tracking something you couldn’t. Everything became still and quiet in a way it wasn’t before. A way that you couldn’t express with words, but something experienced. Felt.

You had enough time to process his look of sudden panic before the world exploded into violence.

Something roared over the cacophony of stone cracking and shattering. Green filled your vision as Kessok grabbed you just in time for everything to upend itself as you were thrown from where you two had been standing.

By the time your mind gave up on trying to process what just happened, you were pushing yourself to your feet; pain a dull warning in the back of your mind as you looked around. Your time on the battlefield served you well in this moment, as you sharpened your focus into something quick and sharp.

You were out in the open. Unsafe. Find cover. Friend missing. Where’s Kessok? Danger incoming. Source unknown. Identity unknown. Find Kessok. Regroup. Find safety. Find Vulkan.

You scratched that last thought as your eyes scanned the area, even as you moved towards the nearest chunk of stone debris that might hide you from… whatever was here. You need to contact Vulkan. Contact anyone, in truth, but some selfish, scared, childish part of you wanted Vulkan. You wanted your husband. He will come. He will keep you safe. You will see him again. 

You held onto that thought as you caught sight of green and gold, half buried under the shattered remains of a half-constructed pillar. You saw his eyes catch yours, blood pouring from a wound on his head, and that flare of relief died a quick dark death as a roar echoed through the chamber.

Unbidden, you ducked lower. With a breath to steel yourself, you rose just enough to glance at what remained of the carved walkway you had been standing on. 

Digging out from the remains of stone and metal, a mass of green and black. All scales and claws and teeth.

A Salamander. A drake. The beast from which the legion had been given its name. 

It was terrifying.

The creature was huge. It easily dwarfed you. You’re sure some of its teeth were bigger than you. You would be dead if it got close, and you have no doubt it would have no trouble doing so. You have no weapons. None but your wit. Kessok has a bolter, but you doubt it will do much here, maybe slow it down. He was half buried, but it looked like he could still draw it, but he wouldn’t be able to get out of the debris easily. He was trapped.

As if sensing your thoughts, the beast turned its ravenous eyes on the pinned Marine. It gave a low hissing noise, pleased at the sight of helpless prey, and began to stalk towards the struggling morsel.

Some latent instinct grew furious at the sight.

Something within you snarled. 

How dare that thing set its sights on your friend? Your son? Kessok was yours. Vulkan was yours and so that meant his genesons were yours. It had no right. You would not let it. 

“Call Vulkan!” You shout as you dart out of your hiding place, sprinting to another pile of rubble.

“My Lady! No!” Kessok yells, but the monster's attention was already on you. It was a predator, you were prey. You ran, so it must chase.

And chase it did.

Maybe it thought you were wounded, or that it registered your shout as the challenge it was, or maybe it saw something running off on its own and followed the urge to pursue. To hunt.

It charged after you, steps thundering, but you didn’t look back. Didn’t dare. You jumped as you neared the stone slabs, and kicked off it with as much force as you could muster. The momentum of your run aided you, landing a small distance away but it was far enough as the shrieking collision of scale and stone and flesh and metal burst out from behind you, and even as you avoided the worst of it, you were still thrown.

Rolling with the force, you shoved yourself onto your feet and sprinted for the next bit of cover: A stalagmite that was large enough that it could hide three Astartes, if they huddled.

Wait.

Stalactites.

“Kessok! Above us!” You scream over the noise. You hope he heard you, but you had no time to think as you see teeth emerge on either side of your hiding spot. You lunge forward, throwing yourself out of the way just in time as you hear the crunch of hardened minerals reduced to sand and dust. No better than gravel. 

A risked glance of your shoulder as you rise from the tumbled roll you executed, and you realise with horror you could reach out a hand and touch it. You move.

You run around it as it flails, throwing the chewed stones about. You trip, but recover, another roll and you're on your feet and sprinting towards open ground where Kessok should have a clear shot. You hear the echoing ‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’ of a bolter firing, but you don’t dare let your focus stray from anything other than survival.

There, on the far end. Another pillar. Larger than the others, it survived the initial assault, it just may help you survive the next.

“Mother!” You hear the terror in the scream, and some instinct bites at the back of your neck.

Drop.

You do.

Stone bites at your skin, covered or not, as you skid across the ground. A sharp hollow snap above you is accompanied by a rush of wind, the beasts bulk above enough bathing you in shadow.

“To me! To me! Go! Run!” Kessoks shouts reach you, somehow, in the chaos of everything. Like a physical barrier, but he breaks through, and you bolt through the opening. Running before you’ve even gotten on your feet properly, but you don’t stop. Don’t dare.

You focus on the sound of gunfire, the flash of the muzzle, and let it guide you until you catch sight of your friend. He’s kneeling, he’s escaped the debris! His bolter is aimed high, shooting at something high above you, but you don’t spare any thought to it as you feel something rapidly gaining on you again.

There’s the echo of a crack, somewhere far away.

You dive into the Salamander Astartes arms as the Salamander beast bears down on you both.

He turns you away, putting himself between you and the lunging maw.

A wet snap and a hollow squelch break through the roaring, cutting it off as the boom of something hitting the ground at speed ricochettes through the cavern. The drag of something heavy across stone, slowing, and-

Stops.

You don’t know how long you sit there, curled against the ceremite, but eventually you hear breathing. Yours. And Kessoks.You feel the shift from his breathing. You feel the press of your lungs against your ribs, from your own.

Alive. You’re alive. You’re both alive.

Slowly, you raise your head, moving just enough to look up at the Space Marine who is looking down at you in uncomprehending wonder.

“We’re alive.” You whisper, gasping every breath.

“We’re alive.” He echoes, relief and triumph in his voice.

Together, you both shift just enough to look behind his bulk and spy the mess that was far too close.

The dead salamander, a spear of dark stone through its skull, laid in a heap before them. Eyes unseeing, but even in the blank stare of death you swore you could see the ravenous hunger and rage behind the glassy veil. You shiver and turn away, looking about at the destruction its short-lived rampage had wrought instead.

‘Holy shit.’ You think, staring blankly at the devastation. ‘We survived that.’ There were gouges in the stone floor from the beast's charge, deep enough you would need help climbing out if you fell in, and the massive stone pillar was little more than a stubborn stone stump now.

You felt the twin rush of pride and triumph, but exhaustion was encroaching and you felt it begin to dig into your bones.

“Do you think this will count as a courting gift?” You ask Kessok, you stares down at you in the Salamanders equivalent of ‘are you fucking serious?’ for several long moments before he threw his head back and laughed. Big, booming laughter that bounced off the walls of the cavern and seemed to beat back the oppressive fear and desperation that had filled the space like a flash flood.

“I think,” Kessok says as his laughter trickles off, “That once my genefather has assured your wellbeing and has calmed down, you will need to move up the wedding date.”

“Kessok!” You chide, giving his armour a light smack even as laughter overtakes you for a moment, completely ruining your attempt at acting upset.

Once you’ve both recovered from your adrenaline fueled mirth, your friend carefully sets you on the stone floor next to him as he shifts with a wince, settling into a more comfortable, restful, position as he does.

“You’re injured.” It’s not a question. His head wound has stopped bleeding, but you’re more concerned by what you can’t see. His armour no doubt hides much, but the way his knee sits concerns you.

“I will heal. May need to spend a few days with the Apothecaries, but I will be fine. I would gladly surrender a limb for your safety, My Lady.” He tries to assure you, but his words only cause you more distress.

“Don’t say that.” You hate how your voice wobbles, fingers tracing along the armour covering his shin, not daring to put any weight on it. You know, logically, that he wouldn’t feel it if you put all your weight on it, but the idea of him being in pain upsets you enough that any prospect of causing discomfort, even accidentally, makes you overly careful now.

Because you know it’s true. You had made friends with many Salamanders before news of your courtship with Vulkan had spread through the legion, and even the ones you never met would have risked life and limb to protect you because you were a baseline human, a member of humanity and the Imperium of Man. It was their duty, but now it was more. They would die for you, not just because you were one of the people they swore to protect, but because you were theirs. You were Vulkans, and so you were the Legions. You belonged to the Salamanders now. 

They loved you. Because Vulkan loved you. Because they loved you. You were kind to them, treated them not as heroes or weapons or lords or symbols, but as people. You didn’t shy away from them, despite their size and strength. You even scolded them when they were being ridiculous.

You remember one night Vulkan had told you, amusement and pride shining in his burning eyes, that he had heard of an incident where one of his captains threatened to tell ‘The Legion Mother’ of his brothers’ behaviour when a disagreement threatened to become a brawl, and they all immediately stopped fighting. You hadn’t truly believed him at the time, convinced maybe he was exaggerating or someone had flourished the details when retelling the story to him.

You believed it now.

Before the weight of realisation -of surviving, of nearly dying, of exhaustion, of the Salamanders calling her Legion Mother and what that really means- Kessok’s head snapped to the side, looking towards the city proper.

You followed his gaze, but knew you wouldn’t be able to see anything for a while. 

However, it wasn’t what you saw that had you sitting up and turning your eyes upward after several long seconds of silence.

It was sound.

The rumble-whirr of aerial transport.

Not even a minute later it was in view, a Thunderhawk rapidly approaching their location. You saw a large shape drop from the ship, and you didn’t know whether to curse or sigh, because you knew what, or rather who, that was.

“I’m not sure he was wearing armour.” Kessok comments idly, “Not that he needs it. Lord Father has defeated the firedrakes of Mount Deathfire with naught but his bare hands.”

“He can’t defeat gravity with his bare hands.” You grumble. You know, logically, that he’s fine. You’ve seen him drop from greater heights and walk it off like it was nothing more than a short ledge, but that won’t stop you from worrying.

You have time to give a fond, if exasperated, look to your guard before your husband comes into view, beating out the Thunderhawk by a good margin.

“Love!” His shout reaches you only moments before he does, closing the space within seconds. He drops to his knees and pulls you into his arms. You go willingly, trying to pull yourself up, close to him, but give up almost immediately and let him fold himself around you even as he looks over you, hands barely daring to brush around the edges of the scrapes and bruises. Afraid to touch you and yet unable to resist keeping you close.

“Oh my heartfire, my treasure, my sweet one.” There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you. Your heart lurches at the sight, and you reach up to cup his cheek.

“I’m alive. We’re alive. We’re okay.”

“You are not okay.” He refutes harshly, a growl turning his voice dark. “Look at you! You are covered in wounds, and Kessok…” He looks to his son, who seems to shrink in on himself under his father's burning gaze. Distantly, you notice his helmet is missing.

“Saved me.” You announce, your voice turning sharp and hard. “I would be dead a hundred times over if not for him. Even with a shattered knee, he didn’t stop fighting.” You didn’t want to fight, but if he tried to blame Kessok for your injuries, for the salamander attack, for anything, you were going to have to.

Vulkans eyes turn soft when they settle on you again. “I do not condemn him. I only wish to note he is also hurt.” You blink up at him, and relax in his hold once more.

“Oh.” You say, “Good. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.” You look over to where the Warhawk is landing, ramp already extended and Astartes pouring out like a green and gold landslide. You see three Apothecaries already making a beeline for your little group, and you raise a brow at your husband.

Clearly he doesn’t feel the need to act like he may have overreacted, because he returns your look with a serious stare. You sigh and lean forward to press a kiss over his hearts, the fabric of his tunic is smooth, and you rest your cheek against it. 

Now that you are in Vulkans arms, all strength has left you, adrenaline fading and in its place the exhaustion in your bones blooms. Making your muscles feel both hollow and heavy, your limbs leaden and like your very core buckles under its own weight, threatening to collapse with every breath.

“Do I need to stay awake?” You murmur, nuzzling into the warm safety of your Primarch as your eyes begin to droop.

“Just a few minutes, my treasure. Just for the Apothecaries to check you over.” He said quietly. You heaved a sigh of ‘okay’ as you pushed against him to sit up properly and face the trio of healers, though one was already attending to Kessok, thankfully.

The pair attending you worked seamlessly, checking you over, disinfecting wounds you didn't even know you had, patching you up, and asking questions that you could only half-answer. The details of the fight were sparse, though a few blurry details were beginning to form, like mist fading in the morning light. Rocks digging into your legs as you slide, the thrashing tail of the salamander beast as it snarled, the hot breath that carried the scent of rotting meat and death, Kessoks determined glare as he took aim…

It was quickly determined that you would need to go to a medical facility to aid in your recovery. Vulkan stood with you in his arms.

“Wait, My Lady.” Kessok spoke up as his brothers helped him stand, intent on also dragging him to a medical facility. Probably a different one, better suited to Astartes. “I think you’re forgetting something.” he says meaningfully, glancing from you to the beast behind them.

“Oh!” You sit up in your husband's arms, pausing to give a grateful smile to the grinning Salamander, before focusing your attention on the confused man holding you. “Vulkan, I formally present my offering to you.” You gesture to the dead salamander beast, “With Kessok as my hunting partner, who bravely aided me in this trial, and your sons as my witnesses, I give you proof of my devotion to you and intent to be worthy of you.”

Vulkan said nothing. Just stared. At you, at the beast, at the decimation of the area. Worry and nervousness began to eat at the edges of your heart as the silence dragged on. You looked to Kessok for guidance, suddenly fearing you had said it wrong. You know there’s no set script, not like with your people, for this, but you’re fairly certain you said the right things.

He gave you a comforting smile, which eased you somewhat, and you turned your attention back to the man you loved.

Finally, he turned his eyes back to you. You felt subtle tremors, fine and hidden, but there. Vulkan took in a slow, shaking breath, before gently lifting you up high so he could bury his nose in your hair. He took deep, measured breaths, those tremors growing in intensity for a moment before settling.

“You honour me. You honour my legion, my people, and I could not be more proud to have you at my side.” He announced, his words were smooth and steady, spoken lowly but you knew his sons heard. You press up into him, letting your hand rest in the crook of his neck.

“But never do this again?” You ask quietly, letting the moment pass.

“Never.” He agrees, fervent and voice heavy with emotion.

“Don’t plan to. How did it even get into the city?” You wonder, settling back down into his arms, letting him carry you towards the Thunderhawk.

“I’m not sure, but I plan to find out. It’s likely the construction caused a disturbance, on top of an increase in geographical activity, much of the fauna may have been displaced, leading to this one wandering too close to the city.” he sighed, “it doesn’t help that the perimeter alarms have not been properly set up yet. Whatever the case, I shall confer with the elders to confirm the cause and do what we must to ensure something like this doesn’t happen again.”

“Hmm.” You hum in understanding, steadily losing the battle to keep your eyes open. You feel lips on the top of your head.

“Sleep, my love. You need rest now.”

“Be there when I wake up?” You mutter, clutching at his tunic even as you sink into the comfortable darkness of sleep.

“Of course, nothing could keep me elsewhere.”

With that, you succumbed, and slept.

***

@incrediblethirst, @kit-williams, @beckyninja, @bleedingichorhearts, @jaghatai-khock, @pluvio-tea, @moodymisty, @thethronezone, @iluminatka16, @runin64, @vithralith, @mooniequeen

[amagialp]

love your fics, how do you think konig, soap and ghost would react to reader wit piercings??? 😏😏 preferably smut but you can write as youd like :)

THANK YOU AND OMGSSS LOVE THIS IDEA!!! HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY IT AS WELL, REQUESTS OPEN! :P

honestly those three + piercings = chaos in my head lol

(TW: smut, suggestiv language etc) please proceed with caution ❤️

GN! reader

Nipple Piercings

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The first time he realizes, he just pauses, staring at you for a solid moment before muttering, “Bloody hell...” That’s it, that’s the tweet. But that little grunt tells you everything.

Simon’s a man of subtle touches, but this? He’s hooked. Fingers brushing over your shirt when no one’s looking, his gloved hand sliding under it during downtime, tracing slow circles around the piercings to watch you squirm.

If you’re wearing something where they’re slightly visible (like a tight shirt or cold weather ahem), you might catch him standing closer than usual, clearly blocking anyone else’s view. He won’t say anything, but his presence speaks volumes.

During private moments? Oh, he’s all over them. He tugs, flicks, and bites with just enough pressure to leave you gasping. He won’t outright say it, but he loves how responsive you are.

König

König is immediately flustered. Like, cheeks red, words tripping over themselves flustered. When he first notices, he’s struggling to maintain eye contact, muttering something like, “Oh, ah… that’s… interesting.”

But the man is curious. After the initial shock, he can’t help but ask questions: “Did it hurt? How long to heal? Does it feel… different?” You might have to tell him to slow down with all the questions.

When he gets bolder, he’s incredibly gentle. He’ll brush his fingertips over them like he’s afraid of hurting you, completely mesmerized by how they feel under his touch.

The first time he kisses you and accidentally tugs on them, the noise you make just about breaks him. He’s obsessed after that, but he’s still so shy about admitting it.

Soap

Soap’s reaction? Immediate mischief. The grin on his face says everything. “Yer full o’ surprises, aren’t ya?”

He loves catching glimpses of them through your shirt and isn’t subtle about it either. He’ll waggle his eyebrows at you like a cheeky bastard.

During private moments, he’s playful as hell. He’ll nuzzle his face against your chest, muttering things like, “These might just be my new favorite thing.”

But he’s not just playful... he knows when to turn up the heat. Loves to tease with gentle nips and tugs until you’re a mess beneath him.

Tongue Piercings

Ghost

Simon notices immediately but doesn’t say anything at first. He just observes, quietly noting how it changes the way you talk or how it glints when you stick your tongue out.

The first time you kiss him with it? Oh, he’s hooked. He pulls back just a little, murmuring, “Do that again.”

If you start teasing him tapping it against your teeth or sticking your tongue out at him he’ll give you a warning look that promises consequences. And Simon? Always delivers.

In the bedroom, he’s completely fascinated by it. He’ll run his thumb over your tongue, feeling the piercing as he mutters, “Such a pretty mouth…”

König

König is speechless when he realizes. His eyes keep flicking to your mouth every time you talk, and his face is burning red.

He won’t ask directly, but his curiosity is through the roof. You might have to be the one to kiss him first, and when he feels it against his tongue, he’s stunned for a second before melting into the kiss.

Afterward, he’ll quietly admit, “I like it it’s, unique. Just like you.”

He’s secretly obsessed with the way it feels during kisses and might nervously trace it with his finger when you’re being affectionate.

Soap

Soap is all in. The second he sees it, he’s already smirking and asking questions like, “Does that make kissin’ better? Or should we find out?”

He’ll tease you relentlessly, sticking his tongue out to mimic yours or making cheeky comments. But he’s also incredibly interested in how it feels during a kiss (or more winkwink).

Loves flicking his tongue against it when things get heated. He’ll pull back with a grin, licking his lips like he’s just tasted something addictive.

Will absolutely joke about it to the others, saying things like, “Bet none of ye can handle what my bonnie’s got goin’ on!” (Don’t worry he keeps the details private).

Lip Piercings (Labret/Monroe/etc.)

Ghost

Ghost notices immediately and is lowkey obsessed. He’ll spend way too much time staring at your lips when you talk.

The first time you kiss, he’s fascinated by the cool metal against his lips. He pulls back slightly to mumble, “Feels good… different, but good.”

Loves tugging gently on the piercing with his teeth when things get heated. It’s his subtle way of reminding you who’s in charge.

König

König is awestruck. He thinks it looks stunning on you but doesn’t know how to compliment it without sounding awkward and weird.

He’s shy about touching it at first but eventually gets bold enough to trace it with his thumb during intimate moments.

Loves the contrast between the cold metal and the warmth of your skin when he kisses you. It drives him wild, though he’d never say it outright.

Soap

“Didn’t think you could get any hotter, but here we are.” Soap immediately hypes you up. He loves how bold and unique you look with the piercing.

Playfully tugs on it when he kisses you, grinning at your reaction. He’s all about making you squirm.

Buys you fun lip rings or studs as gifts. “Thought this one would look good on ya. Fancy tryin’ it on for me?”

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

What do you think? Did I miss any piercings you’d love to see the COD boys react to? Let me know in my inbox or comments 👀

[maladyinpink]

🔊 RAINY DAY SOIRÉE ♥︎♠︎- Haz/bin Ho/tel Wav - ♡-Day Special

Projects will always be strictly AI FREE.

Hi All!...HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! I'm nervous as hell but excited to share my first wav, this Established Husker/Dust Special, with you guys! ART PAGE/MAKING OF

RAINY DAY SOIRÉE - An/gel Du/st comes home from the studio in a hellstorm to find poor Hu/sk, snuggled up with Fat Nuggets and coming down with a cold in his muzzle. The spider affectionately takes care of his bartender beau, but not without catching it himself...Lil vignettes of Husker/dust's shared sick day and soft caretaking.

CW: Long depiction of shared illness, breathy vocal build-ups, loud deep cold sneezing, contagion, higher pitched cold sneezing fits, snotty/honked nose blowing, dry coughing, snzart visuals, blessing, kissing, emotional comfort, spoilers for the Great Gatsby and lots of fluff.

Script, if you guys want to read along, is below...Enjoy!

~ Love, Pink

♥︎♠︎ - Rainy Day Soirée - Script.

(Scene 1 - ANGEL DUST enters the front door of the Hotel in one of the Pride Ring's thundering hellstorms under his Pink umbrella. It's early evening and the lobby is suspiciously empty.)

ANGEL: *Shudders* It's wetter than dick out there!...Shit…Hello? Anybody home?

(Hanging up his coat, ANGEL heads upstairs and unlocks the door to the room he shares with...)

ANGEL: Husk…Honey?...You in here?-

(He's greeted by Fat Nuggets! The hell-hog scampers off the bed and across the floor to see his Daddy at the door)

ANGEL: Hey! My Sweet Boy!...Lookat'chu Bastards, you an' Papa havin' a snuggle, without me…Traitors.

(Yawning deeply, HUSK is still waking up, grumbling to himself about being woken up by a pig and stretching just like an Old man should. ANGEL coos to Fat Nuggets.)

ANGEL: Uh-Oh…Did we wake Papa?...Yeah, we woke Papa…(then to HUSK) Hi, Baby.

HUSK: (Just noticing his partner, tilts his head) Hm- Hey Legs…Damn, y'home early?

ANGEL: Yeah, just pick up shots today (Not really, by pick up shots, he means his scene partner picked him up and pinned him against the wall, he doesn't want HUSK to worry though.)

HUSK: (always concerned when it comes to the studio, but doesn't want to press ANGEL) Oh…um…Y'okay?

ANGEL: (Can't lie, sadly, but tries to reassure) Just uh…the usual...B-But I'm okay, m'fine. (Starts to laugh and ramble)...Actually, it was kinda funny…Long story short, the last scene- Val wants to get the climax again…and again…AND again. What a set of pipes on the poor motherfucker, screamin' to high heaven!...But, uh- Val got called into a meetin' with Vox, thank god…Shoot got cut short an'...Well, most workin' wanted to head home before the storm got bad…

(He trails off...Usually HUSK would respond somehow...ANGEL notices HUSK scrunching up his muzzle and squeezing the bridge of his nose with two fingers, as if he's in pain. He tenderly approaches.)

ANGEL: S-shit…Are you okay?...You ain't lookin' so hot.

(HUSK waves ANGEL off)

HUSK: M'fine…S'just a headache…

ANGEL: (know's he's been given bullshit) N-No No, there's somethin' else…Whaddya not tellin' me…Whaddya hung over?-

HUSK: HUH'ETSH'SHOO!

(ANGEL startles at the intense sneeze and Nuggets squeals, running under the bed. HUSK sniffles and wiggles and clicks his muzzle.)

ANGEL: Jesus!...Honey?! What the fuck was that?!

HUSK: (out of breath, and a little flustered.) Whew, Sorry…'Scuse me…Didn't mean to scare ya.

ANGEL: Next time warn a gal…It's just, heh-…Y'never do that…Come to think of it, I don't think I've heard ya so much as sniffle before?

HUSK: W-whaddya talkin' 'bout…Everyone…(Trails off) S-s-s…..sn-...Sneezes…

ANGEL: (scoffs) Yeah?...Not like that…

HUSK: HEH'ISHH'HOooo!

ANGEL: (starts laughing and mimics Husk's low growly sneeze) Achoooo!

HUSK: Oho! Y'think that's funny?...Laugh it up, Smartass…L-laugh…Hhhh- Goddamni-EH'RTSH'SHOO!...Motherfucker.

ANGEL: (still laughing, but sympathetic) It's…a little funny….Bless you!..H-honey, are you okay?

HUSK: Figures…Now I'm gettin' a cold, now that the seasons pickin' up.

ANGEL: Aww, my poor baby...That's why y'closed up shop so early, huh?

HUSK: Charlie said I was lookin' a lil…hhh… hhh...Peaky…Shit wasn't my choice.

(HUSK lets out a raspy sounding cough and leans back to monstrously sneeze again.)

HUSK: AH'RKK'HOOO!

ANGEL: Ah, Salute! Here…Blow the Thompson on the end of your face hon. (He offers a tissue box from the nightstand)

HUSK: …Thank you baby…(into tissue) AH'ITSH'IUUU…Ugh, Christ…

ANGEL: (unable to keep from laughing, lovingly mocks again with similar inflection)...B-B-Bless you!

HUSK: Very funny Ange…Real fuckin' hilarious…Alright, C'mere y'little shit!

(HUSK starts to tickle ANGEL's arms. The couple both start laughing.)

ANGEL: No!...No…I'm sorry!…H-Honey that tickles!...

HUSK: (growls playfully) I gotcha!

(Both laugh)

ANGEL: Husk!...Husk, Uncle!

HUSK: (listens, satisfied) Hm…That's whatcha get sweetheart.

ANGEL: (fondly) You're a sadist…M'sorry y'sick honey… (leans down and plants a kiss on the top of the cat's head, then notices a book in his paw) …Hey, whatcha readin'?

HUSK: …Gatsby (The Great Gatsby by F. Scott. Fitzgerald)

ANGEL: Ooh, t-that one…Uh…(suddenly a little embarassed, nervously laughs)...Y'know, s'funny…I ain't never read it?

HUSK: Sweetheart, you've never read The Great Gatsby?

ANGEL: I know, I know…S'crime against literature or somethin'...Y-you tell me, if y'think I'da had time between all the heists n' highs for a few chapters

HUSK: Y'got time now, don'tcha? (Sniffles) Why don't we read it together?

ANGEL: (hopeful) Really?

HUSK: Yeah!...I mean…I've read it a hudred times, but….I'd love to see it through your eyes.

ANGEL: Alright, babycakes…But uh, blow y'muzzle first, I can hear ya, gettin' all stuffy.

(HUSK honks a hefty blow into a tissue. Key word being honk.)

ANGEL: Alright, Mother Goose! D'ya wanna start the story or should I?

HUSK: I ain't got the energy to put up with this shit, dickhead…

ANGEL: Alright, Jackass! I'll take care of it, just listen to the Soothing sounds of my voice...

(He clears his throat and starts the book.

♥︎♠︎

(Scene 2 - The next time we see the pair…It's the next morning. ANGEL is in bed and is woken by a loud nose blow and growly bellowed sneezes coming from the bathroom. ANGEL stretches and cranes his neck to look at the bathroom door.

ANGEL: (called out) Bless you!

(The bathroom door opens and a pathetic looking bartender enters, looking exausted.)

HUSK: M'sorry, did I wake you?

ANGEL: Oh baby, nonsense!...You can't help that. You're sick….(clears his throat, still waking, hesitates to ask)...Uh, how's the head?

(HUSK just deeply coughs and raises his eyebrow at the wording. Anyway, ANGEL already knows the answer.)

ANGEL: Y'know what- …don't answer that, uh…I'm gonna go downstairs an' make us some tea.

HUSK: (childlike, pleading eyes)...With bourbon?

ANGEL: (Agreeing) With. Bourbon.

(ANGEL fiddles with the kettle in the kitchen, filling it up with water, putting it on the stove, turning on the burner…He feels something creeping up.)

ANGEL: Heht'ktsh'iew!...Damn…Niffty needs to dust 'round here.

(He hears the door creak open and feels something ELSE creeping up. Needless to say, it's not HUSK.)

ANGEL: Oh, honey?...It's okay, I got it under control you can just go back to bed.

ALASTOR: …Are you quite sure?

(ANGEL startles and rolls his eyes once he sees ALASTOR, but politely replies and resumes watching the kettle.)

ANGEL: Yeah...G'mornin' to you too, Al.

ALASTOR: My my! Someone's broadening their palate!...It's rather funny, usually you'd be schmoozing a mimosa out of our esteemed bartender…But here you are! Making…what smells to be a morning cuppa of chammomile- Or a double. How domestic…What's the occasion?

(ANGEL keeps his reply short, cold and brisk. He's never liked how AL treats his boyfriend and knows AL probably already is well aware, but wants the satisfaction.)

ANGEL: Well our esteemed bartender is playin' hooky today, he's got a real bad cold…(then realizes he can use this to his advantage) Y'don't wanna risk gettin' it Al, y'should probably keep away…like far far away.

ALASTOR: (Sees right through) Come now Angel, you can rest assured that I have no desire to hang around such pestilence. But I also trust that you'll inform Husker of his responsibilities and how he'll be making up for lost time…(He presses the laugh track on his staff)...I must say, I never took you as the caretaking type.

ANGEL: (Ignores the bite, sighs fondly) Well, someone's gotta take care of the big lug…(then bites) Lord know's you won't…Eet'Tschuu!

ALASTOR: (knowingly) Well! Seems as though pot just met kettle, and with that, I'll be on my merry way…(darkly) Seems as though disgusting affections are in the air…among other things.

(In an instant, AL leaves and the kettle begins to screech. ANGEL growls to himself in Italian.)

ANGEL: Stronzo di Fragole!…Hhh…Aat'tshew!

(Back upstairs in ANGEL's room, ANGEL sets the tray with two mugs and another box of tissues down on the bed and sits down.)

ANGEL: (tenderly) Here ya go, Babycakes. Careful, it's hot.

HUSK: (coughs sleepily)...Thank you, Sweetheart.

ANGEL: D'aww, you are welcome!...So uh, where did we leave off?

HUSK: (coughs) Page 41, the big party.

ANGEL: Okay…'I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house'-…'Scuse me…Sorry…Heh…Heh…Ih!…Ihh'eck'iew!...Heh'ish'uu!

HUSK: (chuckling) Uh-oh…Bless you!...Tissue?

ANGEL: Yeah I'b…I'm fine, Honey…Thanks…(tries to start reading) 'I belie- (sputters and coughs)...

HUSK: (gently) Are you okay?

ANGEL: (insistant)…I'm okay! 'I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house…I believe I was-' (takes a deep breath, he is feeling awful and…is about to sneeze again)...Shit-

HUSK: (worried) Angel?

ANGEL: Eh…Eh- Sorry, I'm…I'm godda sneeze!...IT'Tshuu!...Its'Shhh-Oh fuck me sideways!

HUSK: Bless you…Are y'sure you're okay?

ANGEL: I'm fide?….heh…I'm fide.

HUSK: (smirks) Uh-huh, okay…5…4…3…2-

ANGEL: ahh'eeehhhehh'heh!-...ISH'UU!...aghih hhhdihh…ICK'HIUU!

HUSK: Bless you, Sweetheart.

ANGEL: (long sniffle, finally admits)...Baby?...I think I'm catching ya sniffles.

HUSK: (sarcastically) Really, y'don't say?…

ANGEL: Hht'tsh'iuu!

HUSK: (chuckles fondly)...Bless you…Y'know, this isn't how I imagined we'd spend our first day off together.

ANGEL: (coughs) Me neither…(blows his nose) Thought we'd have a glamorous date…Night out on the town…Er- somethin'...

HUSK: Well, we can still do that…With Daisy, Nick an' Gatsby…What's more glamourous than a grand soiree?

(ANGEL blows his nose again, a loud honk)

ANGEL: (sarcastically, glumly) Oh yeah, Honey…Real Glamourous.

(HUSK tries to think of a way to cheer up Angel and gets an idea.)

HUSK: Hold that thought…

ANGEL: Husk?…Whatcha doin'?

(HUSK gets up and starts to mess around with ANGEL's record player. Looking through the collection of vinyls, he finds one that they'd both enjoy. Glenn Miller's 'Chatanooga Choo Choo' starts playing and HUSK starts to sway and kick his feet a little, then does a little Charleston step.)

ANGEL: What are you doin'...Are you…dancin'?

HUSK: Eh…How's that for Glamour?…'Scuse me, sir?

ANGEL: (laughs) Who me?

HUSK: Couldn't help but notice…Y'seem a bit…sniffly-

ANGEL: (still laughing, loving this bit) No shit, it's your fault!

HUSK: -But otherwise…Absolutely beautiful. I'm a bit sniffly myself…(feigns surprise) We have so much in common!

ANGEL: (laughs) Y'so cheesy...

HUSK: I would love nothing more than to dance with you…Whaddya say?

(ANGEL gets up and takes HUSK's arm, joining the bit as they begin to sway gently to the music)

ANGEL: Well sir, I'd love to…But between you an' me?...Keep this on the downlow, Y'don't wanna let my grump of a boyfriend know that I'm dancing with such a gentleman.

HUSK: Well, I dunno this fella…But if he's doin' anything right, I think he'd just be happy to see you happy.

(The two dance and sway in their pajamas for a while, wrapped in eachother's arms)

HUSK: One…Two…-....Hhhh

(ANGEL notices HUSK's twitching and hitching and offers to help.)

ANGEL: Honey?...Y'okay? Y'need a tissue?...A tissue?

HUSK: AH'ICKHH'HIOOoo!

ANGEL: Yeah, that's what I thought…Bless you Ol' Man.

HUSK: Uhhh….Th- Thank-....Tha-...uhh'ITSH'hooo

ANGEL: Salute, Mio Caro…Here.

(HUSK takes the offered tissue)

HUSK: (stuffily) Thank you baby…(he coughs amd hitches as another big painful sneeze is coming)...HEHRK'HOOOOOOO!

ANGEL: (clicks his tongue, sympathetic) Bless you!...I think that's our cue to get back in bed baby.

♥︎♠︎

(Scene 3 - Hours of reading later. The couple has reached the big twist of the heightening drama of the book. Daisy Buchanan was the one driving the car that hit Myrtle Wilson. Jay Gatsby, who's in love with Daisy, will take the blame. ANGEL's heart and weakened immune system cannot take this.)

ANGEL: (floored, heartbroken) Husk…No…No, it was Daisy?!

HUSK: (knew this was coming) Daisy was drivin' baby...

ANGEL: No!...She did it?...N-no!...Fuck no! (Throws the book) Goddamnit! (A coughing jag starts)

HUSK: Easy!...Easy, Jesus Christ…Breathe, baby, breathe…Are you okay?

ANGEL: (carries on) An' he's just gon' take the fall for her sorry ass…Oh my god! (Way too into the story.)

HUSK: (laughs a little at his partner's passion) I know…I know-...Shit Angel are you cryin'?

ANGEL: (He is. Emotional, sniffling)...S'just so fucked up.

HUSK: Easy now…I know…But that's the beauty of it…ain't it?

ANGEL: (crying, looks up, confused) B-beauty?...Of someone bein' a selfish bitch an' ruinin' lives?

HUSK: Nah, Ange, The beauty of the story…is in it's honesty…Shows us the darker sides of love…An' how far an fucked folks'll get protectin' it.

ANGEL: (quiet) Husk?…Husk.

HUSK: What's wrong lovebug?

ANGEL: (sadly)…Would you do that for me?...Would ya..t-take the fall?

HUSK: (nonchalantly) Hm, probably.

ANGEL: Even if it meant…everything?

HUSK: Lookatcha!...Y'gettin' all existential on me!

ANGEL: M'serious!

HUSK: (looks ANGEL in the eyes, with utter conviction) If it meant, keepin' you safe, keepin' y'by my side…Then yes…

(HUSK feels ANGEL's breathing start to hitch as he holds him)

HUSK: Alright baby…Quit cryin'...(Notices he's pulling away and fanning his face and grabbing a tissue)...Oh…O-oh, are you okay?

ANGEL: (breathlessly) No!...N-No, I'm gonna sneeze!...Itsh'uu!...Eck'hiiuu, Ehhhishhh'shuu!...Heh'rkk'kiew! (Groans) Oh go-...Irrkk'hew! (Gasp) Heh'Ihhk'hew…Eh…Ehyiiishhhiew!...

HUSK: Bless you, Bless you- Bless you!...Holy shit, Ange! …Fuckin' Shit! Aww baby…Shhh, Breathe baby.

ANGEL: ….Hhh….Aacksh'IEW!...(groans)

HUSK: (chuckles) Bless you!...Y'always sneeze like that?

ANGEL: (sniffles) Like what?...(realizes) Oh, I'm sorry! (Coughs) Not all of us start a damn natural disaster every time the pollen count goes up.

(HUSK belly laughs, ANGEL's jab was...pretty fair enough. HUSK's laugh trails off into little coughs and grows a bit raspy.)

HUSK: (lovingly firm) Alright, blow your nose.

(ANGEL blows thickly and groans)

HUSK: There y'go…Feel better?

ANGEL: (tired from his emotional burst and his sneezing fit, he deadpans) What do you think?

HUSK: (not really bothered by his partner's moodiness, but calls it out anyway) Damn, you're startin' to get a lil bitchy.

(ANGEL is too sleepy to argue with this, so he lays down and pulls the blanket up, snuggling into HUSK's side.)

ANGEL: (quiet)…Gonna take a nap.

HUSK: (coughs) That's a brilliant idea, Sweetheart…

(Nuggets comes out from under the bed and paws to be let up. HUSK pats the bed.)

HUSK: Well, c'mon!...Get on up, here.

♥︎♠︎

(Scene 4 - Another few hours later…a knock at the door wakes the couple)

ANGEL: (grumpily, sleepily, stuffily)...Hm, Who the fuck is that?... If anyone tries to enter this room with me looking like absolute shit…I will not hesitate to shoot them.

HUSK: (yawns, sleepily and raspily) S'okay, Ange, just stay in bed…I'll get it.

(HUSK coughs a jag into his arm as he answers the door. ANGEL lets our a rough Aagh'ish'hew!, and Nuggets greets Princess Charlie Morningstar behind the door, who's carrying a large thermos and still dressed in her pajamas.)

HUSK: Sorry…Hi, Princess.

CHARLIE: Holy shit…You guys sound awful (coughs roughly a little herself...revealing the bug is clearly going around)

ANGEL: Hell, you ain't sounding much better, Toots.

Charlie: (In-denial, laughs) No!...I'm fine- I'm fine, Angel…Nothing to worry about! Vaggie is downstairs with something nasty…So I'm gonna go take care of her, BUT I brought you guys some chicken soup, I hope you enjoy it!

HUSK: (smiles sincerely and takes the thermos) Much obliged…Thank you…(then looks doubtful) Are you sure you're okay?

CHARLIE: (giggles again, still denying) No! I'm fine! I'm fine guys, I- Hh! HEP'PTSH'SHIEEW!

(CHARLIE inherited her Dad's tendency to occasionally become a...flamethrower when sneezing. Tends to get worse with a cold. Her demon form is out. ANGEL, HUSK and Nuggets stare blankly, a bit scared.)

ANGEL:…Bless you.

HUSK:…Bless you.

HUSK: (quietly to ANGEL) I didn't jus' hallucinate, right?...Fire came out her nose…

ANGEL: (quietly back) Dunno, y'talkin' to a former crackhead, if anyone's hallucinatin' it should be me…

CHARLIE: Eh…Heh…Ih…IPTSH'SHIEEW!

ANGEL: (Gently, firmly, big brother energy) Charlie…Dollface?... Y'takin' care a' everybody…But don't forget to take care a' y'self. (as Charlie coughs, ANGEL melts and invites her in for a hug)...C'mere.

CHARLIE: (Emotional)...Oh, Angel!

ANGEL: (waving her off, still a bit nervous) Yeah, yeah… Just do me a favor? Try not to set me on fire?

(HUSK joins the hug, wrapping his wings around the three of them.)

HUSK: C'mere, kid…If you tell anybody about this…I will gut you like a fish. (No real bite)

CHARLIE: (beat.) Thank you guys…Um…Vaggie and I are gonna watch some movies in the lobby, if you guys wanna join us, you're free to!...And if you need anything, give us a holler- Well actually, don't do that- Save your voices…Okay, bye!

(Door closes)

HUSK: Could be fun…It'll help distract from your…existential dread.

ANGEL: (coughs) Hey, fuck off!...Anyway, I have a better distraction…

HUSK: What?...(realizes and stiffens) No!...No. Are- Are you really feelin' up to that right now?

ANGEL: (pouts) C'mon Whiskers, don'tcha want me to…feel better?...(muffles a stuffy sneeze behind his hands) Ktsch'yew!- Oh my god…

HUSK: (smirks) Need a tissue?

ANGEL: (sniffles) I need…YOU, Baby! Besides, didn'tcha know that the Pentagram's leadin' scientists and' medical professionals say 'Sex is good for a cold!'

HUSK: (contemplates, then smiles slyly and inches closer) Well…Then I guess we gotta do what we gotta do…For science.

ANGEL: (smiles back, sniffling) That's right, we're just doin' this for a good cause…In the name of 'Science'.

(They melt into an embrace in a slow passionate kiss.)

ANGEL: ...I love you

HUSK: ...I love you too

(ANGEL's nose gets brushed and he pulls away to harshly sneeze, and looks up apologetically)

ANGEL: ...Aack'shew!...Ugh sorry.

HUSK: (tenderly) Bless you, Sweetheart.

♥︎♠︎ - è finito

The end, hope you enjoyed!

[froggibus]

Hi how ya doin, could I request some headcanons for Ramattra with a jealous reader?

Thanks in advance !~

Jealousy HCs - Ramattra

Pairing: Ramattra x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, bit of crack? kinda suggestive at the end!

CW: jealousy (obvi), Ram being Ram, kinda belittling feelings?, Ram's a big liar lol, suggestive at the end

hi!!! i'm doing good, hope you are too! this took way longer than it should've for such basic headcanons. i rewrote it like four times but anyway here's the finished result, really hope you enjoy! ^.^

he really did not understand the concept of jealousy at first

he’s never had a human partner, so how could he?

but over time he understood how to navigate your “complex human feelings”

and now he thinks it’s real cute when you get jealous

not that he’d ever admit it

honestly he finds it a little funny 

it’s not something to make fun of but just the thought of you, this tiny human, getting all defensive and jealous over him, is funny

especially when the object of your envy is another omnic

now he would never make you intentionally jealous 

but if the opportunity arises to see you get all worked up? 

yeah, he’ll take it

he’ll deny it after though

“as if I’d get involved with such petty human triviality”

don’t let him lie to you he’s totally fucking involved

he’s a bastard (affectionate)

at the end of the day though, he’ll always remind you that there’s nothing to truly be jealous of

and if you’re still a little mad at him?

well, he doesn’t mind fucking the attitude out of you ;)

overwatch masterlist | masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[ohcorny]

Hello! I have finished reading Hunger's Bite and I really liked it!

The use of mood color and lighting really stands out as a strong storytelling device, it communicates so much without having to neither do exposition nor show the details of the goings on, you can just *get the vibe* of how things are shifting.

I really appreciated this sense of "creeping escalation" in the horror as in, on day 1 you notice a few odd things but you chalk it up as non-important, on day 2 you become aware that there's a significant problem, and on day 3 you understand the nature of the problem but at this point it's already too late and it has already taken over your world — it reminded me [not in term of actual premise or story beats, but in terms of pacing and narrative construction] of the 1978 movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers, where there's this sense of creeping paranoia that something wrong is happening not *to you* but in the background, in the corner of your eye, but it's progressing far too fast for you to be able to react properly in time.

I felt perhaps it was over a tad too fast, but this has to be put into the context of me mainly reading long form manga and webcomics so it's probably just a me thing. I'll definitely buy the second book when it comes out.

Oh and page 224 made me go "oh you sneaky bastard (affectionate)!"

I want to ask you about your inspirations! There are several bits that made me go "huh wonder if this is inspired by X/a reference to X" but I know that many artists don't like it if you straight up ask them "is this based on X", so instead I'm asking you if you can freely expend on the conscious inspiration that went into Hunger's Bite — or even the things you realized in retrospect might have inspired you subconsciously.

hmmmm! it's been so long since the first seeds of the book that there's probably a lot of things that inspired the story. i think probably The Biggest was the call of cthulhu tabletop i played in for like five years. that was set in 1923 and was all about encountering horrors and solving mysteries and supporting the exploited. it was very dear to me and ended due to covid around the time i was starting to develop the book. so hunger's bite is probably, in part, me trying to carry it on myself.

aesthetically it was also a bit inspired by Miss Don't Touch Me by hubert and kerascoet. absolute bummer of a french adult comic but i really like the color work and way things are drawn in it. and it's set around the same time period so! in the inspiration folder it goes.

i think those are the main things? or at least the specific things i can remember. hunger's bite changed so many times from its earliest conception. i do remember wick's character being my answer to the question "what if the Cool Older Boy who's in every YA was actually a wet cat (and also gay)"

anyway thank you for reading!!! i'm glad you enjoyed

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Stitching Us Together

Chapter 1: Caught

Summary: Brianna Riley, Charlotte Garrick, Isla MacTavish and John Price Jr, a close group of childhood friends, investigate a strange shadowy figure that had been poking around Isla’s front yard with a flashlight.

Word Count: ~ 5k

Warnings: Being watched, mentions of military, family arguing, internal conflicts, police, etc, nothing terrible, also just a note: simon is not abusive dad, just sort of distant/ strained relationship w daughter.

A/N: this is my longest fic yet…can y’all tell it’s what I’m hyperfixating over?? sorry I haven’t been posting much, schools been killing me, but I hope you enjoy this super specific au <3

OG Post | Character Layouts

It had all started with Price, the captain leading the way to something that eventually happened to all of them.

His missus had gotten pregnant, and he’d left service not even a month after, deciding that he was getting too old for it, anyway.

Johnny had been next, honorably discharged after taking a shot to the head, barely surviving, but deemed too fucked up to go back into service.

Then Gaz had quit, claiming he was going back to London, to help run his parent’s quaint little restaurant since they were getting older. All of them really knew it was because of the pretty lady now in his life, though. They'd seen the picture he kept of her in his wallet.

Simon, the stubborn bastard that he was, had only thrown in the towel once he learned that a fling he’d had a few years ago had resulted in a kid he’d never learned about. He’d left after scrolling through the random alcoholic he’d fucked a few years ago’s Instagram, finding a blond haired-blue eyes kid in the background of one of her posts.

He’d gotten custody of the girl, named Brianna, which wasn’t surprising considering the kid’s mom had been a substance and drug abuser.

The old captain had a second kid, a little girl named Josie, with his older boy, John. Everyone just called him Jr, though.

Gaz had a sassy little girl named Charlotte and affectionately called her Charlie.

Soap had found himself a Scottish wife and settled down in London as well, where her family happened to live. They’d had a girl too, naming her Isla, though friends called her Is, or Isa.

They’d grown up together in London close by, their parents just calling each other members of 141 their “uncles.” No one questioned it, and considering the tiny bits of questionable information each of you had on your father’s, no one wanted to ask questions.

Poor Jr had been the oldest by a year, but still the “baby” of the group, since he was constantly bullied by Isa and her quick wit. It didn’t help that Brianna’s little snorts and Charlie’s laughs only encouraged the menace.

“Seriously, I don’t see what’s so funny.” Jr muttered, a hint of pink on his cheeks as his voice cracked. Isla was relentless, mocking his cracking voice while she cackled.

“Righ’, nothin’ wrong with me. All normal over here.”

She said, making her voice much deeper, and forcing little kinks and cracks that Jr scowled out. Charlotte smirked and snickered quietly, and Isla saw Bri’s shoulder shake in silent laughter.

“It’s not funny.” Jr replied, a little frown on his face unlike his usual scowl, a hint of insecurity in those big, brown eyes. A small sign that he was slightly upset, or getting close to it anyway. Bri’s silent laugh immediately disappeared, and Charlie frowned.

Isa clapped him over the shoulder from beside him, where they were sitting in Kyle’s parent’s restaurant that he mainly ran now.

“Ay, didn’t mean it y’know? Jus’ playing with ya, Jr.” She said, a grin still on her face, but a bit more apologetic this time. He shrugged her off, relaxing back into the booth.

“‘S fine, wha’ever.” He said, a sure sign of his forgiveness. He forgave easily, a bad habit of his. Charlie reached a slender hand out, snatching a cheese and bacon bit-covered fry out from the bright red and white paper basket they were in at the center of the table. The cheese stretched, long and warm.

She took a bite, humming at how good it was.

“Tha’ good?” Bri asked, raising a brow. Charlie gave a little nod, chewing before speaking.

“Good as hell, if I do say so myself-“

Kyle’s head poked out from the kitchen, where his parents were both back cooking up whatever orders were up. Plenty of kids came by after school, because of how close it was, and how quick the food came out. Charlie would know since she was here every day after school. Sometimes she got to help out in the kitchen.

He raised a brow at Charlotte.

“Language.” He said, before going back into the kitchen.

Jr smirked, happy to have something to get back at his friend for now.

“Yeah, Garrick, watch your language~” He drawled, dragging the sentence out while Isla snorted in amusement, some water accidentally coming out of her nose.

“Ewww-“

“Not on the fries!”

Brianna only watched in what looked like mild amusement as she pulled the fry basket away just in time, using the stereotypical brown restaurant napkins to wipe the water up. Loud, booming laughter came out of Isa after she’d swallowed or sprayed whatever water had been in her mouth. Her leg bounced under the table while she rubbed her nose.

“Hurts me bloody nose,” She said with a crooked grin they had all come to love.

“Hurts my eyes,” Jr said in a wry tone, giving a tiny little disgusted look to the soaked pile of napkins now near Isa on the table. Charlie made a gagging sound.

“Now the fries are ruined!”

“Now, don’ be dramatic, they’re just fi-“

“You sprayed snot water on them-!”

“Would ya quit cutting me off?!”

As the others bickered, Bri casually grabbed a fry and took a bite, unbothered. The others watched and sighed, deciding that if Brianna wasn’t falling over dead from it, then maybe they were all right. Jr watched carefully as Charlie took a fry and a hesitant bite, then followed and did the same.

“See, told’ya.”

“Shut it, MacTavish.”

Isla rolled her eyes, devouring the fries at an unprecedented rate. Her shoulder-length brown hair was held back behind her ears, glinting just right in the setting sun that it looked almost red in some strands. The diner was going to close soon. Then Bri was going to walk them home, per usual. Probably because of the knife she kept on her, paranoid as she was. Isla kept a Swiss Army knife on her with a tiny knife, scissors, and even a nail file on it.

Charlie sometimes used it in class to file down her nails into shape when the teachers weren’t looking.

John would always give them disappointed looks from the side of the room where he always sat. Closest to an exit, always.

Being children of ex-military did lead to a bit of paranoia always, even if you didn’t know what it was that your father’s had done to be so secretive or have such bad PTSD. Maybe it was that paranoia that had Isla up so late at night, pushing the button on the hilariously pink Disney Princess walkie-talkies they’d all gotten one year.

“Anyone up?”

She asked, peeking out of her window and gazing out at a light in the street. Looked like a flashlight to her. A voice responded a minute or two later, interrupting Isa’s leg bouncing. Her hands fidgeted with the walkie.

“Why.” Bri’s gravelly, I-just-woke-up voice was the one to reply. She’d always been a light sleeper, so it didn’t exactly surprise Isla that a walkie message would keep her up.

“Someone poking around outside m’ house. Any o’ your family out visiting, or sumethin?” Isa asked, frowning as she saw the dim flashlight turn away, the shadowy figure not fully visible against the yellow streetlight’s beams. The light turned her way, and she dropped to the floor below the window, breathing now a lot faster.

“No.” Bri said bluntly.

Jr suddenly decided to join the conversation then, it seemed, as he spoke up, his staticky, cracking voice echoing over the radio.

“Why the bloody hell would anyone be out this late?” He groggily asked, and there was some silence on both ends as Isla watched the shadowy figure walk down the street, in the direction of Charlie’s house, but also the school. They were down the same street, after all.

“Wan’ to go find out?” Briana’s voice, now a bit more awake and alert, asked over the radio. Bri wasn’t one for late-night adventuring, or anything really for fun, Isa thought, so she must either be concerned or mildly curious. Her dad would kill her if he knew she was sneaking out to spy on suspicious people.

“We really shouldn’t-“ Jr began before Isa cut him off.

“Sure, meet me at the house. All black clothes, you get the deal. Bring the walkies, too.”

“What about Charlie?” Jr asked.

“Yeah, what about Charlie?” Charlotte’s voice then spoke up, and Isa could already picture the little snort Bri would give at that, and the way Jr’s cheeks would go slightly pink.

“Meet you in five.” Bri replied, no hint of shame or apology in her tone for almost leaving Charlotte out. That started the race against the clock to get ready before the mystery person got too far to track.

Practically ripping her pajamas off as quietly as she could, Isa changed into a pair of black sweats and a black hoodie. Better to blend into the streets. Her Swiss Army knife remained in her pocket, clasped onto some of the fabric.

Her fingers wrapped around the cold bottom of her bedroom’s window, slowly sliding it up and cringing at the creaking it made. She needed to oil the thing or something, before it woke her dad up one of these days. He was a light sleeper, after all. Always waking up to the tiniest sound, like when she got random 3 am motivation to rearrange all the furniture in her room or organize her bookshelf by color in the middle of the night.

Hoisting herself up onto the window’s ledge, the cool night air kissed her tan skin as she slowly crept out, closing the window but leaving it just a bit open. Just enough for her to get back in. She’d done this before, it was more like muscle memory at this point. Sure, sometimes she’d switch it up so nobody got suspicious of why there were fresh marks of fingerprints disturbing the dust on her window’s ledge.

Her dad would surely notice.

The grass cracked lightly under her feet as she walked carefully out, the cold biting against her ankles where her socks and sweatpants didn’t overlap. It was dark tonight, the moonlight not shining nearly enough, and the streetlights dimmed from their constant use. Lord knows no one would replace them with newer ones. Not in this area.

Creeping down the street, keeping eyes out for anyone nearby, not seeing anyone other than a few homeless, or some skeletal-looking drug addicts with glazed-over looks in their eyes. Cutting down an alleyway, and hopping a few chain link fences, she eventually found their little meeting spot.

It was a boarded-up building, something that had previously been a home but had been foreclosed when the old woman owning it had a stroke and died in it. The stench of death wasn’t very noticeable now, but it was bad enough that no one bought it, and it had been foreclosed on, windows and entrances boarded up.

Of course, no one had noticed where the back window was missing a little plywood.

Isla crouched down, walking over to the house. A loose branch from one of the overgrown bushes snagged her hair, at which she grumbled and tugged it free, hissing when she felt a few pieces of hair rip free from her scalp.

She put her hands on the cold brick ledge of the house, hopping in as the brick scraped against her fingertips. Her hands patted at her pants for a moment, cursing when she didn’t feel a flashlight she could’ve sworn she brought. The house was pitch black at this hour, and smelled like moldy carpet and old people, a faint hint of rotting, too.

She slipped her phone out of her pocket, turning the light on, only to yelp and jump back when Bri’s face greeted her, an amused smile on her lips.

“Hell’s balls, you really gotta stop w’ that, Bri-“

“I think it’s hilarious.”

“‘Course you do.”

With a sigh, Isa turned her flashlight on, finding the little wooden table with some dents in it in the center of the demolished kitchen that they always sat at, she took her walkie-talkie with Tiana’s face on it and set it down there. Brianna’s Mulan walkie-talkie followed.

Pausing a moment as she thought, Isa then turned to face Bri.

“How did ya even get here ‘fore me?”

Brianna paused, a hint of something like deliberation in her eyes before she spoke. The blond began popping her fingers, a nervous habit.

“Had an argument wit’ m’ dad. Needed some air.” She said with a shrug, blue eyes now watching to see what Isa would think. Always watching, always thinking. Sometimes Isla thought she was more paranoid than Jr, and that was saying something.

She simply gave a little bob of her head, not asking anything further. If she’d wanted to share more, she would’ve. It was like watching a flower slowly bloom and open up, if you forced it, then it wouldn’t look right, and it would die quickly.

A heavy silence ensued, which was quickly interrupted by muffled cursing and feet lightly hitting the floor. Charlotte was here.

“We ought to trim that tree, keeps snagging my hair.”

She muttered under her breath, and Jr arrived almost right after, sliding into the window’s brick ledge where he sat, eyes strained, not yet adjusted to the darkness, as he looked down. The poor lad was afraid of heights, they all knew.

“It’s 4 feet, Jr.”

Bri spoke, the tone being more sardonic than anything. Jr sighed, and Isa saw his eyes close as he winced, sliding off the ledge, and releasing a tiny squeak when his feet hit the ground. To think that this was a 17-year-old. He did not act it.

He sighed, walking over to the table, where everyone had now gathered. His Cinderella walkie was placed on the table next to Charlie’s Elsa one.

“What’re we here for, again?” The boy asked with a slight yawn in his voice, rubbing his eyes. Isa rolled her eyes at his apparent exhaustion.

“I saw someone dressed in all black, poking around my front yard with a flashlight in the dead of night, that’s why.”

She said, giving him a look, as if to say that was obvious, while Charlie frowned, lips pressing into a line.

“That’s not terrible, I mean, we’ve done worse and our neighborhood didn’t freak out.” She pointed out with a shrug, and Bri nodded.

“Much worse.” She agreed with a grin in her tone.

This was much better than the time you’d all tried to fry some dead roadkill you’d found by throwing it at an electrical box, only to accidentally make the local's electricity go out for almost an entire week. The electricians must’ve been confused when they found a dead goose beside a smashed control panel. You’d all dipped after accidentally breaking it, anyway.

Or the time you’d all gone to a haunted house, and Charlie had faked having a panic attack so convincingly that one of the girls dressed up as a vampire began crying and called her parents to come pick her up. Poor Charlotte had tried to redeem herself from there, but the damage had already been done.

Brianna had also intimidated a teacher into changing her schedule, once. All of the group had relatively the same schedule in your little high school of around 500 people, but for whatever reason Bri had gotten none of the same classes, so she’d gone on down to the principal's office and forced the principal's hand somehow. How she did it, none of them knew, all she’d said afterward was that she “Knew things.” as if that explained anything.

And Junior…poor Junior, he was always the slowest of the group, for whatever reason, always being found or caught when you all pulled some ridiculous shenanigans. Or there was the one time Josie had put hair dye from her mum’s closet in Price’s shampoo, which had been disastrous. Josie blamed Junior for the entire thing, and Price had been so mad, he’d believed it. Grounded for almost three weeks.

“Let’s just check it ou’, and shave her head if it ain’t worth our time.” Brianna suggested, and they all glanced at each other, nodding their heads in mild agreement. Isla blinked at that, before her face contorted in disbelief.

“Really? I thought you were better than thi-“

“Any ideas on where they went?” Jr interrupted, and Charlie spoke up.

“Mentioned somethin’ on the radio about down the road, right?”

Isa sighed, seeing she wasn’t going to get anywhere with trying to protest the head-shaving in her possibly near future.

“Aye, they went down the road.”

She replied in a slightly annoyed tone, and Bri nudged her shoulder a bit, grabbing her walkie and shoving it into her pocket.

“Perk up, maybe we’ll find somethin’. Got a plan, Jr?”

At the mention of a plan, Jr perked up, picking up pieces of broken ceiling and rocks to represent each of them, and a large stick to represent the school.

“Well, if they went down the road then that’s towards the school. I was thinking we could split up, me and Charlie, Isa, and Bri. We take the alleyways down, I take the right, you all take the left, and we meet at the school, where we can recombine in the back.”

He spoke quickly, fingers drumming against his thigh, working himself into a frenzy while talking. Everyone gave nods, before they split into their separate groups, all taking the same window out, before splitting into their groups. They each gave one last goodbye, a little mock salute before heading out into the darkness.

Junior and Charlotte

“I'm starting to think Isa’s just paranoid.” Charlie said, glancing at the surroundings of the alleyway around them. Scurrying rats, bugs, little grimy posters, and pictures posted on the walls or the dumpsters. She didn’t see anything.

Junior sighed, continuing to walk. He wasn’t the most quiet, which made sense, considering his size. Even if Brianna was taller than him and deathly silent.

“Look, we’re all a bit jumpy. Pretty normal for us, considering our dads.”

He said quietly, crouching down as he walked, eyes darting around to look for anyone. It had been almost fifteen minutes and they hadn’t spotted anyone yet. Charlie stepped on an empty can, crunching it beneath her foot, and Jr jumped at it, immediately looking for something to change the subject before Charlotte made fun of him.

“What did they even do? I mean, obviously, they were mili’ary, but my dad never talks about it.”

He said randomly, and Charlie continued walking through the alley, him clumsily following along. She did pause the slightest moment though, head cocking slightly to the side as he watched her take in his words. It must’ve caught her interest, and he’d gotten lucky.

“They were special forces. Dealing with terrorists, and covert shit.” She said quietly, in an almost hushed tone, temporarily pausing.

He raised his brows.

“How do you know?” Junior asked in the most innocent tone he could muster. Sure, he could see his dad, and definitely Bri’s dad as special forces in the military, but sweet little Kyle? Or Isla’s rowdy but affectionate dad? No wonder they never talked about their pasts.

“Went through some files on my dad’s computer when I was bored. Whole lotta locked stuff, so I found a back door into it, and read it.” She said in that same quiet tone but with a bit more shame in it this time.

“I shouldn’t have, he would’ve told me when he thought I was ready, but-“

“Hey, it’s fine.” Junior interrupted in a soft tone. He wouldn’t let her stand there and talk bad about herself. Not when…

“I would’ve done the same thing if I’d known how to.”

She glanced back at him when he said that, a bit of shock on her face. John Price Jr was the good kid, the one who listened to what he was told and was nice, strong, and compassionate, always helping out. She never took him for someone who could be nosy or disobedient. She guessed she still had a lot to learn about him. A muffled voice came from the walkie by her side, but she ignored it. They were almost to the school anyway.

Not knowing what to say, she stayed silent, looking to change the subject, when the school appeared in view from the left side wall. She peeked her head out, looking at the school a second before Junior. Blue and red lights. Cars. People. She shut the walkie off. Jr’s must’ve died by now.

“Hey, there’s the-“

A hand slammed over his mouth as he was pulled down into the alleyway. His mumbled protests against Charlie’s hand quickly stopped when he heard the footsteps, and then the voice that came.

“And you were alone in the school?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Brianna.

Brianna and Isla

They were crouched in the old, crumbling alleyway, moving as quickly and quietly as they could whilst keeping their eyes out for anyone nearby.

Isla had been rattling off for almost fifteen minutes about something, Brianna couldn’t even figure out what she was talking about half the time, but she was trying to listen. A good friend would listen patiently, even when they had a pounding headache and wanted to scream at someone. Her patience was waning.

She already had anger problems in the first place, and that thought only led to another, one that infuriated her more than anything.

The argument.

“Hey, are you even listening?”

Isla was prone to her anger as well, but hers wasn’t as destructive. Isa could express herself openly, something Brianna was more than jealous of. She made it seem so easy, but anytime Bri tried to open up, the words got stuck in her chest, and her heart stopped beating. It was like a giant wall stood between her tongue and her mind. It refused to be saddled and obey properly.

It was so frustrating, so annoying-

“I said, are you even-?”

“Just shut up.”

She ground out without even realizing. A hint of annoyance and hurt flashed on Isa’s face, before going back to normal. Bri paused. Stopped. Isa looked back, stopping too, as if hopeful.

And the words got stuck.

They were stuck and refused to come out. Like a clogged pipe that no matter how you pumped at it, refused to unclog. It made her want to rip everything to shreds. But maybe, just this once, she might be able to say something.

“I’m..”

She began, words unsteady. Isa’s brows rose, confusion and hope in her gaze. She was that confused, just because Brianna might be apologizing? It made her angry all over again, angry at everything, angry at her father, angry at anyone she could be angry with.

It was one word, it shouldn’t be hard, really.

Sorry.

Five letters.

Just get five letters out, she told herself. It shouldn't be this hard. She should be able to do this. Opening her mouth to speak, her throat suddenly dried up, and she began to whisper something.

“I’m..s-“

There. A flash of movement in the corner of her eye. A shadow. A tiny, dimmed light. The same kind of light that would come from her flashlight when she took one battery out, just so it wasn’t as bright, so it wouldn’t hurt her dog’s eyes when she went to get a midnight snack. Turning the lights on always woke up dad.

She needed to stop thinking about dad.

Isla caught it too, a look in her eye saying they would continue that conversation later, but now, they were on the hunt. A little wave of her hand, and they were both moving, crouched down, interweaving between the alleyway’s dumpsters and trash piles.

The shadowy figure with the dimmed light moved exactly where they thought it would go, into the school. Their entrance? Hopping the chain link fence and using an unlocked door in the side to get in. The school locked all of its doors at night.

Brianna would know.

She and Charlie had once attempted to break in when Charlie had left her notebook in her locker by accident when she needed it for the test the following day. All the doors and windows were secure and locked. Especially the one on the side of the building that the shadowy person was now using.

“They must have keys to the buildin’.” Bri muttered, and Isa nodded.

“So either staff or student.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Wha’ever. Let’s follow ‘em.”

They crept up to the door, still partly ajar but closing rapidly on its own. Isla reached there first, using her foot and wedging it to stop the door from closing further. Bri nodded and walked further in.

The school looked as normal as it could at night. Lights off. Everything undisturbed. No sign of anyone, other than the tiniest distant footsteps she could make out. Towards the front of the building. Maybe the stairwell?

Jerking her head to Isa, they both began carefully walking, rolling on the balls of their feet to make their footsteps as silent as could be. They’d need it.

The footsteps abruptly stopped, and they did too. Peeking around a corner into the main entrance area, Isa saw the front office’s door open.

“In the front office, we should tell the others.” She murmured as quietly as possible. Bri shook her head, and Isa silently asked why with her expression.

“Walkies are too loud. Don’ want to scare ‘em off before we see anything useful.”

It was reasonable, Isa would admit. The others could catch up later. They’d arrive here soon, anyways, and probably quietly take a back exit. Considering Jr’s chronic planning out things, he’d get it all figured out.

Seeing that the stranger wasn’t getting out of the office, the two of them dared move closer and closer, until both of them were right by the door. Peeking in, Brianna found…nothing.

There was no one there. No shadowy stranger, or any odd people.

But the filing cabinets were open. Files and papers were strewn everywhere across the room, and a few things were knocked over and broken. There was no possible way the stranger could’ve done this within that amount of time, let alone do it without alerting them. Broken mugs, picture frames, dented cabinets…

“Somethin’ ain’t right. Someone purposefully shined a flashlight in the direction of your house, walked here slowly enough that we could catch up, and then we found the office trashed?”

Brianna said, standing fully up, before kicking around the pile a bit. Bright, flashing lights blinded her vision next, and Isla’s hands yanked her down.

“Police. Someone called ‘em. We’ve got to tell the Charlie and Jr-“

“Give me a minu’e, yeah?”

Something had caught her eye in that stack of files. Names. Numbers. Familiar ones, too.

She heard Isla radioing the others in the background, only for no reply to be heard. Her hand reached out to comb through the files, and Isla sighed, putting the walkie down, and beginning to help her.

“What are you lookin’ for?”

“There was somethin’ in here. Somethin’ familiar.”

“Are you really gonna get us arrested for something ‘familiar’?”

“I’ll do wha’ever I want, and you can right well piss off if you don’t agree.”

“Whatever, just hurry up, they’re coming.”

Footsteps, and keys jingling from outside. She heard the knob for the front door turn. One more second, they just needed one more second to get this file-

And then she saw it.

The words blurred together for some of the first sentences, some were blacked out with marker, and others were simply marked through with a line saying [REDACTED]. But there was one line she recognized all too well.

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

She took the paper, shoved it in a Manila folder, and pushed it into Isa’s hands as she pushed her friend backward, into a storage closet. The door of the closet clicked behind her. Isla didn’t move, not when the police officer caught sight of Bri, the flashlight and gun pointing in her direction.

“Hands! Let me see hands!”

Brianna did what she was told, sticking her hands in the air, and not approaching the cop. It was a woman. Maybe in her mid-20s, looked like the no-nonsense type. Red lipstick. Darker skin. Hair that had been recently silk-pressed.

“Walk out slowly, and keep your hands in the air.”

She obeyed that, too. Walking slowly out, each step measured and purposeful. The hands and arms remained in the air. She was so fucking done for when her dad found out-

Brianna refused to let herself think about that.

“What’s your name?”

“Brianna Riley, ma’am.”

“Why are you breaking into a school after hours?”

“Forgot m’ work, ma’am, figured I might as well come get it.”

The officer glanced over at the trashed office and raised a brow.

“And that?”

“Already there when I arrived, ma’am.”

She didn’t believe her. It was clear. Honestly, if Brianna were in that cop’s shoes, she wouldn’t believe her either. Two intruders in one night, and a teenager found in a trashed office? It was painfully clear what probably happened. Except she was telling the truth.

“Alright, well you’re coming with me, and we’re going to work this out. Keep your hands in the air, and walk slowly.”

Her gun stayed on you the entire time, even as you passed an alleyway, not daring to glance at who you knew must’ve been Jr and Charlie hiding there.

“And you were alone in the school?”

“Yes ma’am.”

When she got into the car, the officer gave her a rundown of her charges, only minor ones since she wasn’t an adult, basically only receiving a fine of $500, something she could pay because of her shitty fast-food job in town, Brianna Riley knew one thing.

Her dad was going to kill her.

Tags:

@seconds-over-first

[fallout-fucker]

Sole Survivor Headcanon

Kind of OC based but it's also vague (Although Minutemen leaning) so like. If your Sole wasn't a soldier or lawyer. Or anything. Just a skill-less bastard. You might like this. Enjoy.

Sole being trusted by so many factions just for breathing is so funny actually. Like they deadass crawl out of a cave, freshly traumatised, and told they're a General? Because they helped someone? Cool, yeah, sure, uh-huh. That's a great amount of pressure to handle on top of their circumstances.

I like to think that everyone also assumes they're insanely clever. It's not that Sole isn't, per se, but everyone treats them like a genius. A prodigy. People have told Sole they understand why Preston trusted them so much because the Commonwealth 'needs their level of knowledge and intelligence to get better'. To which Sole is always bewildered, because their 'extensive level of knowledge' is just. High school level. Basic science lessons.

They know about evolution and stem cells and stuff. They know how disease and antibodies work. They're praised for changing people's opinions on vaccination when, with the help of Curie, they start a campaign to bring back vaccines. Their goal was to fight the viruses that had been brought back from near extinction from 200+ years of no healthcare system, no scientists and doctors to cure them. A tilt back in the direction of accessible Pre-War healthcare.

Sole knows history. They know what to watch out for, how to spot tension between factions. They know how to avoid more war, lessons learned from textbooks and late nights with post-it notes. They know how to piece together a scale and pin point the tipping point to stop it before shit goes down because they did a project about it on a WW1 assignment. The Great War. The irony is not lost on Sole when they contemplate that name for too long.

They're decent at Maths. Decent enough to make sure the caps and donations to the Minutemen are being put to good use. To make sure the book keeping is up to code and every cap is accounted for, and what it should be put towards. Like trying to bring back vaccines from 200 years ago. Negotiating with Vault 81 to let Curie use the old lab there goes way more smoothly when they've got the caps to make a worthy case for the cause.

Sole knows why people assume their mind is unmatched, though. In a way it is, sort of, they suppose. Since education is rare in the Post-War world, and even then it's not at the level it was Pre-War, Sole just seems smart. Everyone thinks they are.

Sole never knows how to handle it.

Are they complicit for letting people believe they're a genius? Should they keep up the charade so people listen to them? The thought keeps them up at night. Preston laughs at them for it.

MacCready reminds them of the many times they looked like a dumbass in every other circumstance where they lacked knowledge. 210 years of missing out on General Wolrd Stuff will do that to ya. It's not necessarily their fault, but he still likes to drag them for the time they got food poisoning because they didn't realise some of the new plants had to be cooked before consumption.

Every time someone acts in awe of Sole's intelligence, MacCready snickers because he was there in the early days. Sole had hired him to watch their back. Soon enough he became their mentor on how to shoot a gun properly. How to maintain it. What to eat, what not to eat, what to definetly not eat. How to make sure mole rat meat is 100% cooked. How to safely remove as much radiation as possible from water and food when you have only basic supplies. He would never think Sole is stupid. They know a lot compared to most people, but learning how to survive and knowing how to count are very different types of knowledge. No, he'd never think they're stupid. But he definetly humbles them, which Sole is actually happy about. He still affectionately calls them an idiot and reminds them of the time they tripped over their own laces, alerting the radstag they were hunting of their presence. And the food poisoning thing. And the incident with the bucket. And when they almost touched a deadly plant because they thought it would look nice in a vase they found.

Thing is, Preston taught them basics of how to shoot and fight before they left Sanctuary. MacCready picked up the workload when he met Sole and realised they'd likely get them both killed if he didn't. Cait showed them hand to hand combat and lockpicking. Everyone at some point taught Sole something. So Sole goes red from embarrassment when being complimented on their mind, because they know they're gonna get an earful from their friends later. Affectionately bullied. You know Deacon has some blackmail level information from the months he followed them. They all sit at Sole's kitchen counter and share stories of Sole's embarrassing misadventures over breakfast. That's just what a family does.

[smallraindrops-blog]

WMFTD related questions.

Is there a universe out there where Pyrrhus and Y/n have a good bond? It is completely understandable if not. They seem to be the near perfect opposites of each other. (The angst and hatred they have for each other is rather delightful! Especially with the current chapters.)

I remember you answered an ask about what if Pyrrhus was raised with Y/n, it would be rough in the beginning, then get better with Chiron, and then end in a falling out during the war. I think that's the closet to a good relationship you've written them to have.

Of course, Pyrrhus will always be a little rat bastard (said affectionately). It's just fun to think of ideas where he did get a good relationship with his father and brother and comes to see Patroclus as his dad.

Warning: I am not wake and I hope i am making sense. here ya go~~~

Honestly, Pyrrhus is his own worst enemy.

I do enjoy writing the relationship they have with each other because i like to think y/n is aware of why Pyrrhus is hurting but not willing to let that man hurt others. And once Pyrrhus had crossed the line with Hypnos, he was done with Pyrrhus. For good.

However…

Let’s say there is a universe where Pyrrhus actually becomes a brother to y/n.

Maybe it was a little after Achilles and Patroclus adopt Y/N and they thought it was a good idea for both boys to have someone close in age to interact with.

I like to think it was Pat who pushed for the idea, because he never felt right about not knowing Achilles’ son. And Pat has a soft spot for kids. 

And it was super rough going at first, both boys fighting and rolling in the mud becomes a daily occurrence even with the heavy training and chores Achilles makes them do as punishment.

They also fight before bedtime over the blankets and pillows. A lot of biting and kicking was involved. And screaming.

Then one day something changes. Maybe at a party. Both boys were sulking, y/n feeling uncomfortable in his fancy outfit and Pyrrhus was sulking because his father had chewed him out beforehand being a brat to Patroclus and he wasn't allowed any sweets.

Maybe another kid from some fancy noble said the wrong thing to the boys about their father, something really gross and disrespectful. 

They shared a shocked glance, a moment of silent agreement to put aside their own mutual hatred for each other, and promptly double teamed that unlucky kid by leaping over the table, knocking plates of food and drinks to the floor as people screamed.

Later after they were punished for their behavior at the party, Y/n pulled out a small, broken cookie he stashed away and handed it over to Pyrrhus.

Pyrrhus stared at it, wrinkling his nose in disgust but took it anyway since they didn’t have much of a dinner that night. 

It was different after that night.

oh, there was still plenty of fighting and kicking and hair pulling and little boys misbehaving but the sharp edge of cruelty was lost, the tones a little more warmer. 

Most of their conversations went like this.

”My father wouldn’t allow this to happen-“

”Our father.”

”What did you say to me?”

”Our. Father. Say that or I will hit you until you cry again.”

”… MY! FATH-OW!”

Or

”Pyrrhus, look at this rock I found.”

”That is a ugly rock. Stupid too. Throw it back. No! Not at me-!”

Or

”Why is that worthless slave so nice to me?  I hate him!”

”pa is just like that. And don’t call him that. It isn’t true and you know it.” 

“…”

”pa want you to be here with us.”

”…” 

Or

”psst. Hey, do you know what the poem is talking about?”

”Of course I do! Can’t you read?”

“Explain it to me.”

”Well obviously it is about a man…”

”a man?…”

”shut up.”

And so on. 

The biggest thing they fight about is how disrespectful Pyrrhus was to Pat. Because Y/N adores his pa and still follows him around like a lost duckling.  Pyrrhus blames Pat for being the reason his family broke apart. 

Eventually that changes too. Because it was Pat who cleaned up the scraped knees, who made sure the boys were clean and fed. ( look i love achilles and he can be a good dad but let's be real, if there was no pat, he and his sons would be feral creatures.)

It was Patroclus who let Pyrrhus rage and scream until he couldn’t anymore then held him like he was still lovable. 

Just like he did for Y/N and for Achilles.

Pat had the patience of a saint dealing with all three members of his family and his hateful in-law. Church of Patroclus when????

I think without Achilles’ mother hissing loud hateful things in his ears all the time, his own hate fades too, replaced by the quiet whispers of care and love from Pat.

He never says it and never will but he had come to see Patroclus as his own parent in a way. But he hoped Pat knew somehow.

His relationship with Achilles is complicated, more so than his feelings toward Patroclus and y/n. Because all he heard was how his father was supposed to be like a god, a great hero of time immortal.

but he wasn’t.

Achilles was simply a man, living with this disowned prince and a street mutt of a son.

As Pyrrhus grew older, he began to understand the role his father played in the whole mess and has (Still does) mixed feelings. He and Achilles get into nasty rows about it, both screaming until they were both purple in the face. 

(Y/N usually stayed out of it, sneaking out of the house to go see a certain baker’s son but had stepped in a few times. Pa just tried to let them work it out, only getting involved when needed.)

i think eventually they become a unit, there are still sore spots and things they are still working on but they actually kinda became a family. Y/n and Pyrrhus act like brothers in a way, trading barbs over family meals and training together. They even laughed and hung out often.

then war.

i think the war put a lot of pressure and stress on the hairline cracks in the family, creating canyons between them. Pyrrhus would be desperate to prove himself over everyone else, especially y/n. Especially his own father.

Both of Achilles’ sons were skilled warriors. Both trained and born for this war. However Pyrrhus would act much like Agamemnon. 

Pyrrhus would be all about appearing strong and godly like all Greek heroes, not caring if it cost him his own people. Y/N was just trying to keep his men alive, trying to get back to his own parents alive. 

Honestly it said a lot about a man about what kinda leader he chooses to follow. 

Eventually things happened as it was always fated to. And y/n and Pyrrhus would have a falling out over many things.

after they both died and met again in the underworld, Y/N would be called to replace Achilles (much to Pyrrhus’ dismay), and of course Y/N meet and fall in love with hypnos. 

As for Pyrrhus… maybe he wouldn’t hurt Hypnos in this world. Or his own brother.

Maybe in this one he fights Zagreus as a boss or finds purpose with something else. In this world, he is the oldest son of Achilles and Patroclus. 

Maybe with his family support and allowing himself to get over his damn pride and hurt and he can let himself move on. 

Maybe in this world, he would finally be happy.

[elvenbeard]

2072

"You're the son of Kousuke Ezaki, right?"

"Hm. Got a feelin' he'd be disagreein' with ya on this..."

After Vince returned to Night City in 2071, Jackie introduced him to another of his many "friend-of-a-friend"s - the owner of a Valentino-adjacent (but not officially affiliated) car repair shop in Heywood. The guy had been desperately looking for a tech-savvy helper, and Jackie figured it might be something Vince could be good at with his knowledge, skills and an interest in cars.

Vince did not exactly jump at the opportunity, but he did not have too many other choices at the time, if he wanted to keep a roof above his head. There were better jobs, but also much worse, and so he agreed to give it a try.

Turned out, he had a knack for cars, and after some initial reluctance from both sides, "V" became an important asset to the small repair shop in no time. He learned to enjoy all aspects of the work, from fine-tuning ECUs to fixing electrical damages, all the while improvising with the often limited resources at hand. Still though, not a Heywood-native, Vince always remained the odd-one-out among his coworkers, as with their love for cars their common interests ended. Vince learned to prefer it this way, as it gave him the freedoms to set his own priorities, work on side-projects while the others were out for lunch for example. Also, he would not get too attached to a workplace and coworkers he knew he did not want to stay around forever.

The repair shop's clientele largely consisted of locals, gangers and "normal" citizens alike (even if the lines tended to get blurry occasionally). But there was also a handful of regulars of a bigger, much better-paying caliber, that Vince initially wasn't even allowed to look at, let alone touch their cars.

Word-of-mouth recommendations had led a certain Arthur Jenkins to Heywood one fateful day, his request so simple that Vince was allowed to tackle it. The first time he was trusted with a "special" customer on his own. The task: "correct" the milage of the suit's car, easy as pie. Vince had mastered similar feats as a teenager already.

What should have been a quick-and-easy job though uncovered something Jenkins did not like at all - a well-hidden tracker following his every move, and had it not been for Vince's experience with these things, it would have remained undiscovered most likely. Jenkins left the shop satisfied but also curious... How come a low-life street-punk like that knew so much about Militech tracker signatures?

A few days later Vince was intercepted by Jenkins on his way home. Initially not too impressed by the corpo throwing around random facts about Vince's not-so-secret past that anyone with too much time on their hands could have uncovered, Jenkins had an ace in the hole. Vince was confronted not only with a part of his past not even he himself was aware of at this point... but also an offer too intriguing to pass up...

Vince through the years (4/9)

Fun fact: I'm fully abusing this little project to showcase all the hairstyles I almost gave Vince when I first made him in CC XD This wasn't my second or third choice, but I considered it! It's just so funky-looking with the two colors, super bold, and it does really fit him during that time in his life where he doesn't give a fuck about anything at all anymore. He goes a bit more wild with his appearance, dares to experiement more and grows into his own person... only for Jenkins to show up just in time to ruin everything, the bastard (affectionate).

I don't want to spoil too much about what exactly it is that Jenkins knows about Vince's past that made him eventually follow him into Arasaka's loving embrace, cause I still wanna write this scene out in detail in my background fic for Vince :3 It isn't just one detail or one thing either, it's a multitude of factors, promises, secrets, opportunities, combined with Vince's hunger for more than being a little part-time mechanic in a sleazy auto shop, more than a roadie or retail worker, just more... because he knows he has the potential for it, and Jenkins is holding all the keys to unlock it in that moment.

And yes, this is all one hell of a fateful coincidence, but it's those that make a good story. As for the task Vince was given with resetting the car's mileage: he had done similar things to his mother's car as a teen, when he "borrowed" it late at night to go on joyrides with his "friends" at the time and she was not supposed to notice. His mother also had connections and friends at Militech that supplied her with little tracking devices to keep her unruly child in check, and once Vince noticed that he learned to spot and disable them as well.

Also, tiny detour to/ easter egg for "Love is Stored in the Olive Jar", if you've been keeping up with that!

The car in the background of the upper pic and more prominently in the second with Jackie is Vince's first car, a pale blue Archer Quartz. The (almost) same model Mr. B provided as a getaway vehicle in chapter one of my post-ending fic, that Vince has to abandon at an auto repair shop :3c Oh, how could Mr. B have known these details of Vince's past...

Speaking of Vince's past and the quote I put at the very top of the post! Vince isn't hiding the fact that he's trans, it's a part of his story and he's proud of his identity. So, when Jenkins wonders if he's Kousuke Ezaki's son, Vince reacts the way he does because for one, by the time his father had died he hadn't realized himself yet that he was trans. And secondly, even if he had, he knew his father well enough to know he would never have accepted him the way he is, for a variety of reasons.

In this moment he learns an important thing about Jenkins: that he's a manipulative bastard trying to tug on his heartstrings, but he only has outdated, surface-level information - or is at least willing to reveal only that for starters.

[krysmcscience]

Oh, I can assure you, if you had asked me if my design for Umber was a reference to My Immortal, and it actually wasn't, I would have taken one look at that whole legendary shitshow of a fic and been like. 'Ya know what? IT IS NOW! XD' Totes get the paranoia thing, tho, I tend to drown in many layers of social anxiety before posting or responding to anything. Case in point, it took me literal hours to work up the courage to post my very first fanart for Crinkle because I was worried they would hate my interpretations of their characters, lmaooooo

I am also in the same boat about the followers (or lack thereof) thing, and trying not to worry about what they might think of my interests, ahaha... Although, an IRL friend has become Kind Of Concerned about the stuff I enjoy thanks to my tumblr posts, which. Has been less than fun, considering that nothing about me has ever exactly screamed "consumes wholesome content only". This is the point at which I stare wall-eyed at my many old toxic ships and problematic faves. Please, I. I just. I have media literacy in droves, I promise, I just want to use the majority of it for consuming horrifically dark stories with nearly-to-fully irredeemable villains going apeshit and then regretting their choices to a massive degree while all the other characters they fucked over go on to pick up the pieces afterward and maybe even find happiness or justice or at least some catharsis in the process, okay??? <:]

This is why I actually like to hate White - cuz like, yes, he is still absolutely a wretched menace, and did many horrible things that I guarantee you I have not forgotten (hard staring at the whole Yellow/Everett in the vents scenario rn, jfc). Even so, that little fucker is not only charming and entertaining in his own weird, twisted way, but he definitely regrets his choices now that's he's dead, and can't properly socialize like he so desperately wants to. >:3c It helps his case that Brown is actually getting the space and time and support he needs to heal, all while White has to just grumpily sit back in ghost-space and watch. Along with his latest reveal of wanting the same thing as all the rest of us (PURPLE'S DEATH), this is what relegates him to 'The Worst (Affectionate)' rather than 'The Worst (Derogatory)' for me, and possibly for others, as well. Though, admittedly, I think that might be the actual Unpopular Opinion here, and the folks biased in White's favor are just more vocal. XD

Purple, on the other hand...yikes. That guy is just. 'The Worst (Extremely Derogatory)'. I can't even enjoy hating him, I just want him to die and go away forever. He has too much of a bloated ego to ever consider regretting his choices, and he never even manages to be charming or funny about it, either. >:[ And unlike in White's case with Brown, Cyan is still very much in the thick of his misery, with Purple right there with him, always, and making it Progressively Worse, ON PURPOSE, because he's a BASTARD. ÒnÓ

But anyway...

I can't say I ship Brown/Devon, per se, but I do enjoy the concept of the chaos that would unfold if they were to be, say. Caught drunkenly making out in public. A notorious space pirate captain and the most publicly adored Admiral of MIRA, kissing in a seedy bar without the knowledge of their partners and husband??? The SCANDAL that would ensue~ :3c (I am looking forward to when Crinkle unleashes that AU upon us readers, LMAO, I know it's coming!!!)

With the final chapter of TCWKTM by @crinklytinfoil upcoming I have decided to celebrate with more doodles. YAY!

(Did I say upcoming, I meant release. Apperently I posted this 3 minutes after the last chapter updated)

I don't know why I have decided that Shrike always wears those night vision goggles(?) now but they look cool at least(GOD I LOVE THEM).

I think I've finally gotten a hang of Dani's hairstyle for my design which is a blessing because in order from the easiest to hardest hair texture to draw is Coily>Straight>Locs>Wavy>Braids>Curly with a jump of times 4 from braids to curly(My hubris for giving Cyan short curly hair has and will continue to keep biting me in the ass).

Speaking of Cyan, I've also updated him. He always has eye bags now cause he feels tired now, more so than the start of the fic at least. Since, unless I've missed something, he's still wearing Black's suit I felt I should make it a part of his outfit. One of the issues I was having when I drew him though was that we still call him Cyan but he wasn't wearing cyan anymore which is an issue when I read the story but when I drew him it just felt odd. My solution to that hangup of mine was to keep the suit and belt black’s but give him the gloves and boots so there's at least some cyan still on him since I don't think it was ever stated that Johnny cut those off, there wouldn't be a reason to and they would fit him better than Johnny's anyways. He also isn’t wearing his backpack thing or helmet(not that I ever drew anyone with theirs anyways) since I figured they probably lost it or some shit. In this pic no one is wearing theirs but that’s just because I wanted them to look like they were chilling, Cyan straight up doesn’t have his.

Funnily enough this is the one that took the least amount of time to make, I started it yesterday and finished it like now though I do attribute that to a stroke of sudden inspiration that I was able to draw in my sketchbook so honestly most of the work was the coloring.

Drawing these guys just kinda being silly is so fun it's unfair, especially Purple. This man has done so much bullshit, I should shoot him on sight but the moment I pick up my pen he appears, the motherfucker! A pretty fun aspect of these purple are, as you can see, he's using Grey's skin. While I'm pretty sure in the story he looks the exact same I figured it would be more fun for drawing purposes to mix the two of them together to create some distinction rather than just drawing Grey with a purple suit.

My design for Grey had him as average height but more stout(at least comparatively for my artstyle) while Purple was a little more scrawny and tall which worked well for what I wanted to do. His bangs are center parted when Grey's bangs are gathered in the center. Also I drew their expressions differently, when it's Purple I draw his more bitter/sour, I decided that most of his expressions are squinty and tend to furrow the brows while Grey's are more, I'm not sure how to put it, genuine?

As you can probably tell I really enjoy trying to come up with the character's designs myself but I know when to throw in the towel and admit someone did better than me. I tried to come up with a design for Olive/Finch myself but I just could not come up with one I liked even equally let alone more than @krysmcscience 's design. They really captured their energy well so I’m just using theirs.

Ayy, I drew my take on good old Johnny boy. I think I did a pretty good job making him look older without him becoming a mass of wrinkles.

Drawing Flayer's ship was pretty fun, I've been trying to draw backgrounds and objects more so it was good practice. We obviously don't know what it actually looks like yet other than it is made of flesh and metal so I definitely had to just make shit up. For these bitches sake I hope it's bigger than what I designed because it is going to suck otherwise. Just as I'm typing this I kinda already wanna redesign it though.

I went for something more simple based of the premise that ships are complicated and difficult to make; the whole thing is kinda supposed to look like the flesh is doing a lot of the work to keep it together to compensate for a lack of technical knowledge and skill but just now I remembered that Flayer was the head of the mechanics so she almost certainly has more than enough knowledge and experience to make a good ship on her own even without the flesh. Oh well, I can redesign it when we learn more. I'm keeping its face though, the face was a completely but incredibly happy accident.

Also, I find it interesting that the Imposter’s missions are usually about them destroying biomechanical technology but one of Flayer's named imposter abilities is to use her genetic material to create machinery that fuses artificial and organic material.

Bounus Doodles!

I'm pretty sure these were all drawn sometime before the new year but they were all I had and I didn't want to post one image of doodles so enjoy them now.

While I am still proud of Brown and Devon making out I think my favorite doodle here is Cyan and his judgmental ass face. Why is he staring at Finch like, he is not in any position to but judging like that.

I also borrowed Kry's designs for Red and Umber, I couldn't help myself for Umber, it was just too perfect!

Not sure how I feel about my take on Skeld!White(Finnegan I CANT-). I'm not sure if it's just I'm so used to seeing Kry's design that anything else feels weird or just that I made him too baby faced and princessy. I tend to draw men that are very pretty and feminine so I think I went overboard when I tried my hand since he was usually described similar to how I would normally design a man.

[some-beans]

Hi! I wanted to request dormleaders with a reader like Millie from helluva boss?

yes 100% yes but god i'm bad at answering these fast 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

✎...pairing: twst dorm leaders x millie!reader ✎...themes: hints to murder, mentions of blood, reader is fem with she/her in mind ✎...enjoy !!

𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄

ngl a little freaked out

given your horns and tail, and the vague/slightly tad bits of what your line of work is, it's safe to say riddle was very weary of you

but, i suppose that lessens up when he sees you respecting the queen of hearts' rules

lowkey loves that fact you fit in with the red aesthetic tho

also loves when you easily whip Ace and Deuce into shape

riddle feels surprisingly comfortable with you after the overblot incident due to the fact you simply held onto him and allowed him to cry, and get it out of his system

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀

ma'am

he laps up ALL the love and affection you give him

such a smug bastard [ affectionate ]

also kind of "he asked for pickles" but it's more that he's just lazy

definitely respects the shit out of tho

girlboss over here

is so impressed when he witnessed you take down, like, 15 of his housemates like it was riding a bike

did i mention cuddles??

cuz you are now his fav pillow

yeah nah, you're not moving until he's awake

well, i mean, you can cuz not gonna stop you, but ready to then deal with a grumpy lion later on

𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋

flustered yet intrigued

you said you did some bodyguard work and know how to deal with problematic customers??

. . . do you need a job??

but in all seriousness, very much becomes your malewife

man legit folds at any and all affection you give him, big and small

very surprised when you help him get more contracts for him and he swoons lowkey

something to do with the fact you're from hell or something

he didn't really pay attention cuz azul's brain had crashed from the smile you sent him

𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐌

oh our sweet sunshine baby

you honestly end up taking over jamil's job at this point

jamil cried tears of joy over this

you can easily calm kalim down and divert his attention back on track

and easily dispose of any hitmen *ahem*

he definitely buys jewellery to decorate your horns

you casually mentioned your, uh, job once, and let's say kalim is grateful that he's on your good side

𝐕𝐈𝐋

you're like a slightly more violent cheerier version of rook in a sense

but also somehow less intense too??

ugh whatever

your bright red skin does intrigue him

and your makeup is quite impressive

. . .

what do you mean you have naturally smooth skin?? had no acne too??

vil may kind of reprehend you for your country accent, but quickly shuts the fuck up from the wicked glare you give him

epel snickered to himself when say that happen

𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀

you are intense

but in a good way??

you have successfully bamboozled idia shroud

it confuses

he has heard of imps before bc duh ofc he has

he's watched too many manga and shit to not know what those are

you two very much give "he asked for pickles" and "girlboss + malewife" vibes

gets spooked when you don't bat an eye to the gore when watching horror series with him

may have prayed once or twice

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐒

at first, he mistook you for another dragon fae cuz of ya horns and got really fuckin excited

tho lowkey sad once you explained you're actually an imp from hell

still jazzed about the horns and tail tho

loves to share stories and whatnot

. . . kinda concerned when you mentioned a job that left your leg in a bear trap

yeah

malleus may have almost asked to . . . talk to your boss

[originalcollectionartistry]

Part 3: No More Waiting

Here is the requested part 3 to Guess I Waited too long. Honestly I just wrote that fic to process my own emotions about episode 13 and did not think I'd get any notice on those fics. I'm so sorry for the long wait! I finally had some reprieve to edit and post but I promise I have been working on it since part 2.

Also that season finale was NOT OKAY!! I cried for a full day so I definitely had to finish this to give myself and others comfort and lots of therapy. After this, I will write quite a few fix it fics if anyone requests them cause that was not on.

I've never really published anything I've written but I would hope this 3 part series gave my fellow Tech lovers a little therapy.

My stories are 18+. Minors begone.

I honestly don't know the word count so enjoy the numberless paragraphs of sex.

Warnings: Sex. Lots of sex. PiV sex, unprotected, NSFW, explicit PiV, crude language, aftercare, fingering (fem receiving), oral (both receiving), just filth. Pure filth

Also Cid is not a backstabbing asshole in this cause she shouldn't have done that to the boys or Omega

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy you horny bastards!

____________________________________________________________

You had returned to Pabu over 40 rotations ago and you and Tech had been... less than affectionate. Honestly, you didn't mind. Tech was still quite new to the whole relationship thing and you certainly did not want to push him. You loved the man and would be as patient as possible. But Maker were you horny! Why did he have to be so damned attractive? Everything he did just made you think about how he'd feel against you, inside you. He really did not realise how much you needed him.

Phee had returned shortly after you and the boys, successfully clearing yours and their name. Cid was callous and harsh but she could be understanding when she wanted to be. Besides, the Batch were her best assets. She wasn't going to risk severing ties. Apparently the whole reason she'd left them stranded was the Empire had finally made its way to Ord Mantell. She needed time and a way to keep the boys out of the Empire's sight. Easiest way was keeping them away. Course she had to act all threatening; she couldn't risk anyone think she'd gone soft.

"So... it's safe to come back?" Omega asked.

"Only if ya want. If you're happy on where you are, I'll just send stuff your way. It's how I keep Phee invested." Cid shrugged. Maybe she had changed after all. Or Omega crawled her way into Cid's cold heart.

You looked over at Tech, meeting his eyes. You nodded your head over towards the Marauder, wanting to talk to him. He nodded back and followed you quietly to the ship. You were pacing, which confused him. You hadn't mentioned any upset or anger since the mission so to see you anxious worried him.

"Mesh'la? Is something wrong?"

You looked at your man, your handsome sexy man. "Nothing you can't fix my love... I miss you."

Tech cocked his head to the side. "I'm right here. Why would you miss me?"

You sighed and tapped your lips, a small signal to him that you wanted a kiss. "I miss feeling you darling. We've been busy lately. We haven't had any time together.... alone."

Tech smiled, understanding what you wanted. He approached you, hands finding their place on your hips. Touching his forehead to yours, it was a moment of pure love and intimacy. Neither of you could believe how lucky you were to be together and hoped nothing would ever come between you.

"Well cyare, how do you propose we rectify this? Surely the ship is not a place for such intimate affairs?"

You smiled, knowing he was genuinely curious as to how you'd find time. You weren't worried though; Tech was a man of curiosity. You knew he'd do whatever you wanted him to to make sure you were fully satisfied.

“No but that’s definitely something I’d like to do eventually. We shouldn’t rush it so how about we have dinner tomorrow and just see where the night takes us!”

Tech nodded, giving you a kiss. “Sounds good my darling. Now how about we get back before Wrecker comes looking?”

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

Dinner was quiet but sweet. Plus the food was perfect; you and Tech had some sort of connection where you two working in tandem in the kitchen was second nature. This caused every new recipe to be perfect and well done!

Cuddling on the couch in your borrowed home, you felt more than content. You really couldn't be happier. After so much drama, it was nice to have a space your own and settle down. You weren't 100% sure what Tech's thoughts were but you knew him and his brothers had been talking about moving permanently to Pabu and honestly? After the shit you dealt with on Ord Mantell, settling down in a bungalow on an island paradise with the man you love was more than what you'd ever ask for.

Tech pressed his lips to your temple, allowing you to let out a small sigh of happiness. It wasn’t often you two had quiet moments like this. You were either helping around town or tech was working on the ship.

You turned your head upward, wanting a kiss, which Tech happily gave. It was clear you two were pent up however as the chaste kiss soon turned heated, tongues battling for dominance. You were quick to straddle your beau’s waist, slowly grinding down on his crotch. Tech let out a groan of lust at your ministrations, wanting more. He went to push his goggles up over his head but you stopped him.

“Keep them on,” you whispered in his ear. “I want you to see me clearly.” You ground down harder, making Tech cry out in pleasure. “Plus I like you with your goggles on.”

Tech nodded quickly. “Of course mesh’la! Whatever you’d like tonight, it’s yours!” His hand came to your chest, gently palming your sensitive breasts. He wasted no time in gently pulling at the buttons, wanting to see more.

It was a beautiful thing, you thought. That you of all people could make the intelligent clone desperate and inarticulate. It made you swell with pride; giving you the confidence to slowly move off his waist and onto the floor. Unbuckling Tech's belt was a task and a half. You always knew it would be cause dear god that man had ALL the pockets strapped to his waist. Buckle after buckle, you eventually became frustrated enough where you sat back and started pouting.

Tech chuckled, leaning forwards, he took your chin in his hand. "Something wrong, cyare?"

You glared at him and then his pants. "You know damn well what's wrong! YOU HAVE TOO MANY POCKETS!!"

He laughed softly before taking over removing his bottoms. As he removed his jeans he laughed again. "My darling, you must work on your patience. Plus my pockets can hold many things... like remotes to certain toys?"

You gawked, never having considered that. Tech could and probably would make you writhe in constant pleasure while no one would be wise to the situation. The mere idea made you feel your undies become soaked. This was definitely something you’d have to discuss later. Who would’ve known that Tech would be kinky! You loved it and absolutely wanted to explore more scenarios with your love. But right now...

“Just help me undress you, smart-ass!”

Tech laughed before continuing to remove his clothing for you. He knew you had patience but the more desperate you became, the less patience you’d be. He pulled you back up onto his waist, bringing you in for another passionate kiss. Your frustration at his clothing disappearing into his soft lips.

You pulled away and knelt back onto the floor, pulling his cock out of its confines. Your mouth started to water, the tip glistening with pre cum. You gave an experimental lick from the base to the frenulum. You heard Tech suck in a breath, gaining courage to take all of him in your mouth. Eventually finding a rhythm, you bobbed your head, making sure to pay attention to his tip. Tech was gasping, the feeling of your warm mouth overwhelming him. His hands found purchase at the back of your head, gripping your hair at its roots. The slight pressure on your scalp caused you to release a low moan, sending vibrations down Tech’s cock.

“Kark cyare! You’re perfect! It's like your mouth was made for me!”

You smiled, giving him a little suck at his tip as a thank you. You felt him start to buck into your mouth and you knew he was getting close.

“Mesh’la, please! If you keep going like that I’m going to cum. I’d rather do that inside you!” he whimpered.

You pulled off with a pop, smiling gently up at him. “Of course my love. Anything you’d like.”

Now it was your turn to completely undress. Tech had already taken care of your top, leaving you in your bra and pants. You wanted to tease him so you slinked away from your love’s lap, standing before him. You started to sway your hips in a figure 8 motion while feeling yourself up and down. You smirked when you saw Tech lean back and palm himself, obviously liking what he was seeing. Reaching back, you unclipped your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders. You chuckled a little at Tech’s expression.

His mouth was pressed into a line, and he was looking up at you desperate for you to do something other than dance. He wanted, no NEEDED, you to touch him. He was stiff, trying not to melt into a puddle of submission to your will. While he loved when you took charge, he really wanted to be in control tonight.

You shimmied out of your pants, pulling your underwear with them. Straddling Tech’s waist again, you started suckling at his neck again, leaving as many marks as possible.

“Darling, as much as I love this, I think we need to move to the bedroom. I would hate for someone to catch us in a state of undress,” Tech panted. He stood, gripping your thighs to keep you where you were. You squealed at the sudden change of position, wrapping your legs tighter round his waist.

“I couldn’t agree more, my love.”

He gently place you on the bed, hovering over your body. His kisses made you breathless but you couldn't muster a care. His lips were too soft, too sweet. Oxygen was overrated anyway, you thought as his lips left yours to trail down your neck again. Leaving little hickies and bruises all over, Tech continued his mission lower, kissing over your breasts, your belly, until he reached his destination. Kissing up your thighs, teasing you, he decided to leave more spots, hickies only he would know about and would remind you who you belong to.

"Teeeccchh!" you whined, "Stop teasing!" You bucked your hips towards his face, wanting to feel his mouth on you.

He smirked, pushing his goggles up his nose. "And who am I to deny such a pretty thing?" One lick from your entrance to your clit had you crying out in pleasure and relief. Finally!

He ate you out like a man dying of thirst, suckling your little button like his life depended on it. You were certain you'd lose your voice before the main event at how much Tech had you crying out and moaning.

"Kriff! Kark Tech! How did you get so good at this?" you cried out.

He only answered in a moan against your clit, sending vibrations down your whole lower half. He may not have had much relationship experience but he did read up and research every single erogenous zone a woman of your species could have. Thankfully, humans were quite easy to research as male and females had similar erogenous zones. Tech paid special attention to your vulva and clit, stimulating it in every way possible.

Once he thought you were sufficiently lubricated, he started probing your entrance with one finger, before sinking inside. You screamed, not expecting it but welcoming the intrusion. His fingers were long and reached that perfect spongy spot just inside. Curling his fingers in a come hither, he added a second and eventually a third.

You felt so incredibly full, becoming more and more overstimulated with each pump of Tech's fingers. You were so close, that knot in the pit of your stomach becoming more and more tight. Tech could feel your clenching around his fingers, knowing you were close to your finish.

"Come on cyare. Cum for me. It's okay," he murmured against your clit.

It didn't take too long for you to reach that precipice. You fell over that edge, every muscle in your body freezing as you saw stars behind your eyes. It took you a moment to catch your breath, Tech gently kissing your thighs as you came down from your high.

"Karking hells... that was amazing love!" you moaned out.

Tech crawled back up your body, kissing every piece of skin he could reach. "Don't pass out on me yet cyar'ika. We're not done yet."

You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on your tongue and it made you whimper against him. Tech pulled away and smiled softly as he lined himself with your dripping cunt. Just the feeling of his tip against you made you buck your hips, wanting more.

"You ready darling?"

"Tech, I swear if you don't fuck me, I'll find someone who will!"

Tech laughed, knowing you were all talk. You didn't make yourself suffer through hurt and jealousy just to walk away when he teased. Slowly entering your warm walls, it took every bit of Tech's willpower not to bottom out instantly. You felt so good! So warm, so tight and inviting.

You used your legs to pull Tech deeper, not caring about slow anymore. You needed more! Your movements caused Tech to lose balance and hilt himself inside, making him curse something you never thought you'd hear.

"FUCK darling!! You're going to be the death of me if you keep doing that."

You giggled, rolling your eyes like the brat you were. Tech started to move, slowly in and out, allowing you to become accustomed to his size. You closed your eyes, biting your lip in ecstacy. Thank the Maker for Jango Fett's DNA cause you knew every clone would be well endowed but Tech was genetically enhanced so you knew his intelligence came with other perks as well.

Tech started to move faster, his hips snapping against yours deliciously. His pelvic bone gently hit your clit with every thrust, it did not take very long for your orgasm to approach quickly again. Why did he have to be so good at this? He'd give you so much pleasure you'd be unable to walk. Tech was perfect in every way, shape and form.

Wanting to prolong, you used all your strength to flip Tech over so you'd be on top.

"Taking control are we, cyare?"

In response you ground down, loving the hiss of pleasure he drew. Grinding down gently, you teased him. Tech bucked up into you, letting you know it wasn't fair to tease.

"Darling please! You know I don't last long in this position! The angle in which I enter you is quite possibly the most pleasurable and if i continue at this pace I won't last and be able to give you the pleasure you deserve."

You smiled, loving it when he started to go on a tangent. Knowing this particular one was because of you was delicious to say the least. So, you tortured him a little longer. You continued to ride him, bracing yourself on his chest. Tech's hands flew to your hips, forcing you down even more onto his cock with each thrust. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving little crescent marks on his pecs. You could feel him start to stutter his hips and while you loved the feeling of it, you did not want the fun to end yet. This was the man you loved and you were going to give him whatever he wanted at this point. So you flipped back over, letting him be back on top.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. You heart was bursting and you once again felt that little knot becoming tighter and tighter. This time, you did not want to tease. Tech thrusted harder and faster, feeling your cunt pulse and grip him like a vice. His hips stuttered a bit and you both knew neither would last much longer.

"Darling, where?"

You moaned loudly, loving the feelings you had. "Inside me my love! Fill me up with your cum!"

A few thrusts later, you felt warmth spreading through your lower half and felt Tech release inside you. You fell off your precipice, seeing the galaxy behind your eyelids. Muscles tensed and relaxed, riding your orgasm out.

You felt Tech collapse against you, nuzzling into your neck and leaving little kisses. You relaxed your legs from around his waist and he turned you both onto your sides, cuddling into you further.

"You feeling okay?" you rasped, running your fingers through his hair.

"Mmm" he moaned. Tech lifted his head and adjusted his goggles. "More than okay cyare. I'm spent."

You laughed a little at that, feeling the exact same. Tech got out of bed, leaving you a little shiver at the lack of his body heat, but promptly returned with two canteens and a wet cloth. Spreading your legs, he gently wiped away any cum that was left on your skin. He gently encouraged you to go pee because "urination helps with clearing out any disease or sperm that may be left" but you scoffed.

"I'll pee later! Just come cuddle me please? I need a nap after that."

Nodding, Tech crawled back in next to you, wrapping his arms around your form. Snuggling in, you inhaled a breath of his scent, loving the man. You felt your heart rates calm down and slow as you cuddled. You were essentially fucked out and loved Tech for knowing your body so well.

"You're thinking very loudly mesh'la."

You smiled and curled into his chest more. "I'm sorry love. Just thinking about how much I love you."

"I love you too my darling. Now try and get some sleep. I have set tomorrow aside for us and I plan to use it well."

You smiled, blushing hard. You didn't know what Tech had in mind but you were excited for it. A whole uninterrupted day with the man you love? A certain yes please.

You slipped Tech's goggles off his head and set them on the nightstand. No indents for this clone. As you looked over you felt a rush of emotion run through you.

No more waiting you thought. You both had waited long enough to be together. Blast the Empire, the rebellion, the crime lords and everything horrible in the galaxy. You had everything you needed right there next to you.

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

Hopefully it's what you all hoped for! As always criticism is always welcome as long as its kind and constructive. Thank you for all the love in the last month or so. If anyone wants anymore please feel free to reach out with requests!

Tag list:

@burningfieldof-clover

@lilyevans1

@eternalwaffle

[conretewings]

Senario: Vander smacks your ass behind the bar while a guy is hitting on you. In turn, a few days pass and a woman is hitting on Vander..........*warms um palms* Don't hold back lol

Oh friend. You've started something. 😘 You and everyone else please enjoy this little treat:

-It's one of those nights, nights where the bar is especially crowded and the entire place is a raucous din of chatter, drunken laughter, the clattering of mugs on tables, and the occasional dispute, with the old jukebox trying it's best to be heard above the noise.

"Round for the left corner table!" calls Vander as he passes you a tray of drinks. Taking it and flashing him a warm smile, you go to serve them...ignoring the man sitting at the end of the bar who has been pointedly eyeing and grinning like a fool at you for some time now.

Once you come back and pass him again he raises his hand to say, "'Scuse me ma'am, might I have another ale? And...a word if that's alright."

"Sure comin' up," you answer, and grabbing a clean mug pour him the drink and slide it over, then pause in front of him, "Now what's up? Someone bothering you?"

"Nah...but I uh..." he rests his chin in his hand and looks at you with a half lidded, lopsided smirk, "I wish someone was..."

"....Ah. I see." you answer flatly, leaning one elbow on the counter; so he was trying, terribly, to flirt. It seemed that, unlike a lot of the other patrons, this guy didn't realize you were dating the owner.

After a hiccup and clearing his throat, he 'walks' his fingers across the warped wood toward your arm and asks, "So uh...what're you doin' later after leavin' this dump?"

Before you can answer you feel a large hand on your upper back. You know that touch very well, and turn your head to see Vander standing there, giving the man that particular, tight-lipped grin that you recognize as quite the opposite of amused, his eyes narrowed.

"It may be a dump, but it's mine. Now then mate, ya mind tellin' me why you're harassing my staff?" he all but growls.

The man gapes at him stupidly and warily withdraws his own hand, eyes glazed from drink, "Um...I uh..."

"Well," Vander continues, and as he's speaking his hand slides down your back lower and lower until it's settled by your tailbone as you feel goosebumps dance across your skin from his caress, "I think you've had enough, and I'm going to have to cut you off for your own safety..."

And now his hand moves off you for only a split second before you feel the sharp and not unwelcome slap of his broad hand on your ass. The angle at which you two were standing assured no one could see, and you hiss in a quick breath, struggling to remain composed and shoot him an affectionate smirk while mouthing 'you bastard'. He throws you a quick wink and strides off while the man is already on his feet and weaving his way toward the door.

Part 2 under the cut because this is turning out longer than I expected:

Some days had passed since then, when during a slightly more quiet evening, you came back from taking orders to find a quite voluptuous woman who seemed to be quite taken with Vander. He was busy doing some intermittent cleaning behind the bar, and she was perched on a chair, talking to him and leaning forward enough to make quite the display of her ample cleavage. He was paying her no mind beyond asking if she needed another drink, and you bristle; oh. So this was how he had felt when the scenario was reversed.

It wasn't that you two didn't trust each other; mutual respect and trust came in spades for you both, but there was something about seeing another person making a play for your love that set the blood afire and ignited a protective, challenging instinct. Thus, you stuff your notebook in a pocket and go around behind the counter, stepping up to him and tapping his arm.

"Could you help me grab something from the storeroom?" you ask nonchalantly while shooting the woman a cool glance.

"Sure thing." he replies, dropping his cleaning rag and following you into a small side room around the corner, more of a closet than anything.

He doesn't see your smug grin, or you arcing your arm back as he sidles past you and asks, "Alright what did you-"

You swing your hand and crack him smartly right on his ass and he starts while you chuckle triumphantly, "Ha! That's for the other day. You did it while someone was flirting with me, thought I'd return the favor."

There's a momentary pause, then he twists his head just enough to peer at you over his shoulder; uh oh. You see the challenging glint there and before you can make another move he whirls, grasping you by the hips and hoisting you in the air, roughly pinning you to the wall with his body and you both ignore the several cans and other items that fall and clatter on the floor. You throw your arms around his shoulders as your legs encircle his waist and he leans in to growl lowly into your collarbone.

"Now now darlin'...if ya want to start something it'll hafta wait until closing. But until then..."

His hot breath against your skin and the promise of his words have already gotten your blood up, but then he clamps his mouth on your neck, kissing and nipping, making you let out a sharp gasp and moan. You twist your head to meet his lips with your own, pressing hard and running your tongue along his bottom lip. He grunts, fingers digging into your thighs and he deepens the kiss before you both pull back, breath heavy and he carefully lowers you to the floor.

You rest your hands on his chest and look up at him while biting your lip, "Later?"

"Aye definitely..." he replies, planting another kiss on your forehead then taking several deep breaths to calm down, and you both, as casually as possible, head back.

[ewitsren]

#@! HARUCHIYO SANZU AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

pairings : haruchiyo sanzu x reader

cw/tws ⚠️ : toxic relationship, drugs, nsfw

requested : no

#SANZU

first of all, sanzu ain't boyfriend material. let's face it, a relationship with him would be toxic as fuck :(

makes you question his sanity a lot </3.

gaining his trust is not easy at all so it probably took a long time for you two to get together but once sanzu let you in it was all worth it. he slowly started to open up to you as you accepted him for who he is.

you're the only person sanzu doesn't wanna manipulate, use or lie because he knows you'll stick with him till the end no matter what.

sanzu is overly affectionate behind the close doors, he's always touching you somehow (whether it's his fingers on your neck, hands resting on your back etc) he never leaves your side when you two are alone bcos he tries to make up for the times he's not there.

i don't see sanzu as a guy to go on a cafe or picnic date so prepare yourself for arcade, shooting range, scape house etc kinda dates. the simplest date he'd agree to is watching movies at home and going shopping.

he sucks at racing games but will cheer up if you treat him an ice cream after </3.

as much as sanzu wants to keep you out of bonten shit, he talks about what's going on with you to update you on how he's doing mentally.

he talks about killing people so easily that it makes you worried sometimes, tho you get used to it because it's sorta a weekly occurence.

"so i took the bastard's organs out and slashed the other one. ya know it's no big deal, just sum usual shit."

love confessions when he's drunk >

"shit." sanzu muttered as he clumsily wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on yours. "c'mere babygirl."

sanzu pulled you closer to himself, you felt his pink hair brush against your forehead.

" 'm sorry 'm so fucked up." he sighed into your hair, gently squeezing your shoulder.

"i swear i'm trying, i'm fucking trying. i love you 'n it's fucking hard loving someone."

100% takes you to club whenever he goes there. he just sits and watches your body move along with the music. watching you curl up your hips and mess your hair drives him mad, he grins and keeps his eyes on you all the time. (if anyone dares to approach you, they're dead now.)

takes you on late night walks when you can't sleep </3.

lets you kiss his scars </3.

unlike everyone else i can see sanzu randomly saying he loves you, he'll blurt it out like it's no big deal. he doesn't feel the need to pour his love into words tbh but he knows it reassures you so does it anyways.

probably has tricked you into taking drugs multiple times just to see how you would act when you're high.

sanzu is okay with you harmlessly flirting with other guys once in a while but if you ever cheat on him he'll kill you, we all know how he responds to disloyalty.

if you tease him in public, he'll grin and whisper lewd things in your ear while pushing his fingertips on your neck

texts you in the middle of the night when he's high and asks you to pick him up

cuddles with you, does your hair, takes you on a walk by the beach and goes shopping with you when his soft boyfriend mod's on.

nsfw !!

now as for the sex part of your relationship, sanzu never goes easy on you.

hard dom

blood kink, knife play, choking, exhibitionism...

he loves it when you cry under him, your tears and sobs get him going. he moans into your neck as you scream his name with tears streaming down your face and he overstims the fuck out of you.

sanzu's open to anything you wanna try and talking about sex is so casual for him, has no shame </3.

his fingers are wrapped around your neck as he pounds into you, calling you his doll and talking about how good you take him </3.

loves it when you beg him to fuck you.

leaves hickeys all over your body

100% would fuck you in public. his fingers would slip into your panties and find his favourite spot, enjoying the sight of you biting your bottom lip while trying to control your reaction.

bites your pussy when he's eating you out... sanzu loves the sight of your fist clenching the sheets and the feeling of your fingers pulling his hair </3.

yeah, sanzu's obviously not the best boyfriend but still he loves you in his own way

@ewitsren 's work, do not translate/repost on other apps and platforms.

[moriihana]

we can’t fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || eighteen: desolation

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won’t leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: you deal with emotions and dabi has to seek you out.

content: angst with fluff ig

word count: 1135

a/n: sorry this took so long to get out, last month marked the one year anniversary of me getting kicked out so i've been havin' a rough go of it ^^;

taglist: @iincandescenttt

AO3 link

← previous ; next →

You looked out at the destruction Shigaraki had wrought from where you sat atop a building, your legs dangling off the side and a frown on your face. The unmistakable sound of Dabi’s footsteps caught your attention. 

“Hey mouse. You’re awfully close to the edge there. What’re ya doin’ up here all alone?”

You glanced over your shoulder at him before turning your gaze back to the desolation. “Hi, Touya. I’m just thinking. What’s up?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Dabi sat next to you, frustration evident in his voice. “Fess up.”

“I haven’t been avoiding just you, pretty boy—I’ve been avoiding everyone.” When he clicked his tongue in disapproval, you sighed, “I’m… tired, Touya. I miss Twice, and Mister. Himiko hasn’t been the same, either. And Shigaraki…” Your voice took on a dark tone, a snarl lurking at the edges of it. “I knew he shouldn’t have gone through with the procedure. That bastard’s trying to steal his body. His expiration date passed lifetimes ago, and now he’s just trying to cheat death. He’s scared of not being in control.

“Is it worth it, Touya? Losing our friends? Possibly our lives and our freedom if we fail? Every time I stop to think for too long, I see Twice’s body and the life leaving his eyes. I think about how I couldn’t save him. What if Himiko’s next? Or you? What if you’re next, Touya?” Your voice wavered, breaking at the end. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

Dabi pulled you into his side, pressing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the crown of your head. “Twice’s death hit Toga hard, but the kid’ll be fine. She’s a big girl. As for me… I promised you I wasn’t goin’ anywhere, doll,” he said quietly. “I’ll crawl out of my goddamn grave if I have to—I ain’t leavin’ ya here alone.”

Your bottom lip trembled and you bit back a sob. “I’m scared, Touya. For the first time, I have people outside of you, Nugget and Boo that I care about—I’m scared the heroes are gonna rip it away from me,” you warbled. “Or me away from it.”

“I won’t let that happen. I made a you promise, doll, and I’m not one to break promises.”

You sniffled, burying yourself further into Dabi’s side. “I know,” you whispered. “But things don’t always go our way.”

With a deep sigh, Dabi shifted look at your face, ignoring your whine of protest as he lifted your chin to make eye contact. “Doll, there’s no use in worrying about that right now. I don’t know why all that’s botherin’ you so much all of the sudden, but shit’s goin’ our way for now, so enjoy it while it lasts, yeah?”

You pouted, but mumbled a quiet ‘got it’ anyways. “What’s so funny?” You huffed when he chuckled affectionately. He gave you a quick kiss to your forehead.

“You’re cute when you pout.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You punched him lightly in the chest, though you had a small smile on your face. “Asshole.”

“There we go.” Dabi brushed his thumb across your bottom lip. “As adorable as you are when you pout, I wanted to see ya smile.”

You narrowed your eyes and bit his thumb playfully. “Disgusting. Can’t believe you’re being affectionate, pretty boy. Gross. Get that outta here, you’ll make me sick.”

He rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead. “Alright, alright. Glad to see you’re back to normal. Seeing you all mopey and shit’s depressin’ as hell.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Yeah, whatever. Was there anything else you needed, or were you just being a grump over not having my undivided attention?”

“Ah, right—Toga’s also been mopey and shit. It’s annoying. Cheer her up.”

“What makes you think I can cheer her up?”

“The kid loves you.” Dabi shrugged. “If anyone can make her get over her feelings or whatever, outside of those hero brats, it’s you.”

You hummed. “...yeah, alright. You know where she is?” You moved away from Dabi and grabbed your cane, hauling yourself off the concrete floor—or roof, technically—with a grunt. You adjusted your knee brace and brushed off your pants, then held out a hand to help Dabi up. He took it, pulling himself up.

“I have a hunch. Not too far from here, follow me.” 

You cracked your neck and trailed after him, your free hand shoved in your pocket. “How’d you know where I was?” You asked as you two walked, curious.

“Asked All For One to look for you,” Dabi drawled. “Didn’t actually expect him to cooperate, considering how much shit ya give the dude.”

“Maybe if he weren’t a creep and absolute garbage, I wouldn’t give him shit,” you grumbled, scowling. “I hate the guy.”

Dabi snorted, “We’re all well aware of that.”

You fell silent, a weariness settling deep in your bones—or maybe it was just the stiffness from the cold and sitting on a hard concrete roof. You looked around as you passed through devastation with Dabi, listening for the sounds of possible danger. Shadows of fleeing civilians moved in the corners of your eyes as they recognised who you both were. As you walked through a slightly less destroyed and slightly more populated area, you caught the sound of multiple footsteps crunching on debris. You paused when you noticed the footsteps were growing closer and reached out, your fingers curling around the back of Dabi’s coat. “Touya,” you murmured, standing stock-still. “Trouble.”

Stopping when he felt you tug on his coat, Dabi let out a dry chuckle when you let him know people were approaching. “We both know nobody stands a chance against my flames.”

“Of course I know that, pretty boy, but we both also know that support items have been made widely available. We don’t know what they might have,” you hissed, tightening your grip. “Just be on guard.”

“I always am,” Dabi scoffed.

You nodded and released his coat, moving your hand to your thigh to pull your knife out of its sheath. You kept a secure hold on it as you resumed walking, hyper-aware of the crunching behind you. About ten minutes passed before the footsteps sped up and someone called out to you and Dabi aggressively.

“Hey! You two aren’t welcome here!” 

With a sigh, you turned around to face the three people who approached. You took note of the weapons that two of them held, satisfaction glinting in your eyes as you watched fear wash over them. “We’re just passing through,” you said lightly. “You shouldn’t have troubled us.”

“Tch.” Dabi clicked his tongue and incinerated the three—they didn’t even have time to scream.

You rolled your eyes, but put your knife back. “Well, that’s dealt with. Can’t believe they didn’t recognise us beforehand…” you snorted. “Alright then, let’s go find Himiko.”

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers With an MC That’s Only Soft for Them

So, cute Headcanons are my kryptonite! Please enjoy, my fluff loving brethren!

Lucifer

We at Stupid Headcanons inc. recommend that MC does not inflate this bastard’s ego further, but if they choose to…

Lucifer, the morning star, a high ranking demon, does not need MC’s affection… that was a lie he C R A V E S it.

This pairing is actually quite complimentary, Lucifer is only soft for MC, MC is only soft for Lucifer, perfectly balanced.

MC shouldn’t expect Lucifer to be too reciprocal to their affections in public until they’re both neck deep into the relationship, but in private, hoo boy.

The “good job!”s, the hugs, the quick pecks on the cheek, all of it just made Lucifer practically melt. He adores all the affection, and it’s all for him.

Finally, someone in this house appreciates him…

“Lucifer, try not to overwork yourself, if you need anything, just ask, okay?” “Thank you, MC.” “Hey MC! I need help, pass me the remote.” “YOU CAN WALK OFF A CLIFF BELPHIE! Love you, Lucifer.”

And to be honest, some of the roasts are funny, but MC, dearest, please dial down the sass near Lord Diavolo.

Mammon

Of course MC’s favourite is the Great Mammon! Heh, who else would it be? Not that he needs this human’s affection or anything!

…screw it, please MC, give him more head pats.

Hand holding, hugs, resting his head on MC’s lap… Mammon’s really living the life.

In public Mammon is constantly trying to get MC to shower him in praise and affection in his own weird tsundere kind of way. It’s good thing MC is always willing to give their demon all the love they have.

It just makes him so happy that all of MC’s affection belongs to him, it makes his greedy little heart sing.

MC’s love and care tragically does not save him from being caught for his shenanigans, but MC, stone cold bitch that they are, will always do something bad to get strung up next to him.

“MC, what’re ya doin’ here?” “Oh you know babe, just hanging around.”

Nothing makes him smile more than when they stick up for him, to MC, he isn’t scummy trash, he’s the great Mammon! Their super amazing guardian! He does what he can to live up to MC’s image of him!

Since Mammon’s super supportive of his human, he’ll always provide reaction sound affects whenever MC delivers a verbal smack down.

Levi

MC likes him? Must be a joke. Who’d like a gross Otaku like him…?

The human exchange student apparently.

They’d listen with a look of pure adoration on their face whenever Levi would ramble about his favourite anime, they’d help him organize his figurines, they’d play video games with him…

Man… MC’s really playing the long con here on this practical joke.

When Levi isn’t drowning in self doubt, he absolutely loves how sweet and gentle MC is around him, a side only he gets to see… *swoon*

A cold mean character that’s only soft for their love interest??? That’s one of Levi’s top five favourite romantic tropes!

Levi’s often taking notes on MC’s snappy remarks so he can sass people while he streams, he’s not too good at it, so he just streams with MC present. His viewership goes up whenever exponentially whenever MC says anything.

“Someone in the chat just said I must be insanely lonely-” “There’s no way in hell you’re lonelier than that guy at night. His bed ranks number one in the top ten loneliest places ever.”

Satan

At first, Satan took more of an analytical interest in MC’s attitude, they’re either suicidally impulsive or very confident in their ability to run from danger if they think they can sass demons and get away unscathed.

Once the two connect and MC goes soft for him, it’s game over. Satan’s weakness is cute things, and nothing is cuter to him than his usually mean MC raining affection and compliments down upon him!

Satan finally has a leg up on Lucifer! The human adores him and isn’t afraid to talk back to that pretentious motherfucker-

MC sits in Satan’s lap and the two read together, they smuggle cats into the house, they lay in bed together plotting the downfall of their enemies… just normal couple things.

Sometimes MC just sits next to him and makes a particularly nasty quip at someone else, then give him a big ol kiss on the cheek.

It just makes him oh so happy…

“Honey, I brought you tea!” “Ah, thank you MC.” “I took it from Lucifer’s private stash of relaxing tea :D” “You really are my soulmate, aren’t you?”

Asmo

Gasp! MC’s so mean! Do it more!

Asmo, sassy god he is, appreciates a good snide remark or twelve, so he’s always got a front row seat to MC’s shennaniganery.

Before the pact, he was back in the peanut gallery with Satan wondering when MC’s words would come back to bite them, but after the pact, nothing’s touching the human. Their sass is completely consequence-less as long as Asmo’s around!

These two are a match made in hell, literally. Asmo and MC get to be so in sync that they manage to make each other’s insults better by working together.

“I’d give you the name of a few surgery places but I don’t think they implant brains into unlucky people like yourself.” “They might be able to implant a better personality though~.”

Asmo’s fully willing to flaunt his relationship in public. Sort of in a “look at us! MC’s only nice to me! Eat shit losers!” kind of way.

It isn’t all vanity and insults, MC always finds a way to make Asmo feel better whenever he’s feeling down. MC makes sure to tell Asmo as often as possible that they love him for more than just his looks, and it makes the Avatar of Lust swoon.

Just as long as MC never turns their razor sharp wit on Asmo, he’s their cheerleader forever.

Beel

Good choice, MC.

Despite his resting bitch face, Beel’s a big softie, everyone knows that, and as the Simpsons said, ‘the strong must protect the sweet’.

Well… MC isn’t as strong as Beel, but they will verbally eviscerate anyone who even dares insinuate anything not nice about their precious gigantic cinnamon roll!

“Listen up bitches! Not you Beel, we’re all glad you’re here.” “^_^” “Y’ALL ARE IN DEEP SHIT.”

Beel loves how affectionate MC is! Doesn’t matter if it’s in public or private, he and MC are almost always at least holding hands.

MC always has emergency snacks on them, they never get upset when Beel eats everything in the house, they just smile and hand over whatever food they have on them and help fix the problem.

Beel is probably one of the only characters who would try and get MC to branch out and be nicer to everyone and not just him. Whether this works depends on MC.

Belphie

Does he deserve this? No. Did he almost start crying when MC began to show him genuine care and affection? Yes. Does he nearly die of laughter every time MC snaps at someone? Yes.

Belphie’s not sure why MC decided that they were going to love him of all demons… but they just… understand him.

They listened patiently and offered a shoulder to cry on, even after he hurt them… their understanding, their compassion, just wow. Belphie really lucked out.

MC lets him nap, fluffs his pillows, reminds him to wash his pillow cases and comforter, gets him sushi, like geez… what a simp… *sniffle*

In return, Belphie offers cuddles. Cuddles and quality time together. For the first time in how many millennia Belphie is going to get off his ass and do something for someone if they ask.

It’s a miracle.

Belphie isn’t one for flaunting a relationship but… he may just let some people know that this super mean human likes him the most by giving his human a quick kiss.