#caving stories always freak me out

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

"It's hopeless! Every man who has gone in is either too large to fit down the squeeze or they completely lose their nerve and turn tail!"

"Don't despair, we'll get him out. We just need someone small, tough, and with no sense of self preservation."

A caver is stuck down a gypsum cave and has sparked a media frenzy. Tintin's editor sends him to America to get in on the story, but Tintin quickly discovers that while the attention the story garnered might have sent more help the caver's way, the disruptive crowds, moneyed interests and media circus might have only aided the cave's endeavour in holding its prisoner captive.

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VIII / Part IX

(Completed) Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.

It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick. 

He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around. 

There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks. 

There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it. 

He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill. 

She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way. 

Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore. 

It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them. 

Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.

He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world. 

He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long. 

He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand. 

It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited. 

“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening. 

She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him. 

She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would. 

You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires. 

You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it. 

Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.

They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal. 

You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls. 

From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby. 

You don’t even know where they got that one from. 

They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots. 

What happened to natural selection?

You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them. 

His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”

One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”

You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is. 

He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table. 

You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”

One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap. 

“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist. 

“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed. 

They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other. 

“What do you think they’ll give us?”

One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.” 

The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb. 

The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”

“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”

He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches. 

He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground. 

Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from. 

The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”

He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her. 

She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose. 

Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own. 

He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”

He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”

She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?” 

He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die. 

“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop. 

“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.

He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”

The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them. 

He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares. 

Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair. 

He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”

“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face. 

“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.” 

You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge. 

You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink. 

You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper. 

You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face. 

You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t. 

At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly. 

Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help. 

You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face. 

You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement. 

You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground. 

Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”

You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can. 

You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.

He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”

You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it. 

Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it. 

“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”

You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”

He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again. 

Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him. 

He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here. 

“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”

“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it. 

Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end. 

To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”

Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”

He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”

She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him. 

She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?” 

He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”

She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”

He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”

Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”

It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her. 

He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”

He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her. 

“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down, 

“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”

Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”

“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him. 

“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it. 

“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.

He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part. 

His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit. 

He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane. 

But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer. 

She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.

He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him. 

His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”

She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt. 

“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable. 

“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips. 

He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again. 

He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable. 

She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him. 

He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”

He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”

She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”

He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”

“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”

He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”

“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.” 

Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth. 

“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”

“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice. 

She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”

She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”

He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”

She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”

“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned.  “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”

Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”

“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”

Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”

He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”

“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”

He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”

She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”

She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”

“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you. 

“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least. 

In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing. 

You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”

He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?” 

You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”

He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home. 

You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.

Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels. 

“I think it’s important you learn.”

You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.

He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard. 

His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”

You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”

His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”

You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you. 

“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words. 

You’ll always be there for one another.

You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity. 

You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now. 

He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”

You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass. 

He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside. 

The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly. 

If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn. 

He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store. 

This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot. 

You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you. 

Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming. 

It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do. 

Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life. 

He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”

The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”

Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him. 

Or he could help you. 

It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve. 

Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other. 

With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him. 

Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him. 

The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap. 

Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go. 

You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on. 

The Outlaw and The Sheriff

Their first movie together. 

He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different. 

Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed. 

She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be. 

“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.

She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”

He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once. 

“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns. 

He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?

Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit. 

But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.

Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same. 

He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover. 

He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely. 

She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have. 

She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more. 

She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him. 

He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again. 

She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.

He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it. 

He’s giving in now, giving into her. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[mixedupmojo]

Weird isekai idea that I had that I just wanted to realise into the wild.

Ok so you know how there are multiple stories out there about reader getting transported into the world of journey to the west and then ending up tagging along as the pilgrims make their way west. Here's the thing most of the time these story's take place once the group has already been assembled or the reader ends up meeting Tripitaka first.

So here's the thought what if reader meets Wukong before the group has a chance to get together. Let me explain.

So imagine reader has just arrived in a strange new world and they have absolutely no clue where they are or how they got there and are freaking out really badly. So they start calling out to see if there is anyone nearby that can help them and after a good few minutes of wandering around and shouting for help they suddenly get a reply. Relived they rush towards the voice, only to find that the person that was calling to them wasn't a person but a monkey that looks to be trapped within the rock of a mountain. And it only takes them a second to realise that this isn't just any monkey but thee monkey, the monkey king, Sun Wukong himself and somehow they've been transported into the story of journey to the west. Their internal crisis soon gets interrupted as Wukong starts asking if they wouldn't mind helping him out with his situation. Knowing the story not to mention what Wukong's capable of they immediately disagree much to Wukong's outrage. At Wukongs outburst they go to leave but that’s when they realise that they still have no clue where they are and what's worse no idea who could help them except for maybe Tripitaka so they resolve to wait for him much to Wukong confusion. Realising that it might not be a good idea to tell him that they are not exactly from this world they stick with the hopelessly lost excuse. which Wukong responds with that he would be happy to help them out if they let him out which is an obvious no so things quickly devolve into a stale mate.

Days go by and they end up talking a lot, with Wukong casually trying to convince them to take off the seal every now and then and them always refusing. But as the days go by the more anxious and worried reader gets after all they have no idea at what point in the story they are and it could very well be a hundred year before Tripitaka will eventually show up. Food and shelter are also a worry as they've managed to get by due to it being summer and there is plenty to forage and a small cave nearby that they've been using for shelter but they know it won't last forever. but most of all they really, really want to go home they miss their family their friends they miss their life. More time goes by and day by day reader and Wukong bond even more to the point where the monkey king has actually grow quite fond of them and cares quite a lot to the point that he starts helping them out in what little ways he can. He even stops constantly trying to get them to remove the seal on the mountain only occasionally asking every now and then and its usually only after he see them struggling, instead he's taking the time to ask them about themselves and find out more about them and in return he tell them about himself usually stories of his glory days. eventually they come clean about the fact that they are not from this world and how they have no idea how they got here or how to get home, breaking down a bit as Wukong resolves to help in any way he can. Then one day it happens completely unprompted reader suddenly get up and start walking away at first Wukong doesn't think anything of it as they often leave to look for food and other such things but as the hours go by and they've yet to come back Wukong starts to worry think that something bad might have happened to them before he gets the horrible thought that they might have just finally got sick of waiting and left him. Stewing in his thought the monkey king slowly growing more and more enrage and heartbroken at the potential betrayal. when suddenly he can feel it, he can feel the mountain shift and he realise what they have done. It's after another few hours pass that he hears them running down the mountain catching a quick sight of them as they run past him. it doesn't take him long to realise that they are getting a safe distance away and he waits a few more hours before he finally breaks free. Meanwhile your despriatly trying to catch your breath as you watch the entire mountain explode chunks of rock flying in all directions and your barely able to make out a reddish orange blur coming towards you before your enveloped in a bone crushing hug.

Thus beings their own journey to find a way to get reader home.

I dunno I just really like the idea of Guanyin or Tripitaka turning up and Wukong not being there and all of haven freaking out because the monkey king is on the loose and no one has any idea where he is.

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Movie night

Summary: Natasha and y/n decide to have a movie night after a long day of writing mission reports and hospital work but mid way through it gets very fiery.

Pairing: Natasha X doctor fem reader

Warnings: none I think..

Natasha was exhausted. She sat down on the couch in the living room of the apartment that her and her darling girlfriend y/n shared. She had been writing reports all day and in all honesty Natasha never wanted to see another price of paperwork again. She leaned back into the couch hoping that the pillows may just let her dissolve into them before she heard said girlfriend enter the apartment.

Excitement re-energizing Natasha she gets up and practically sprints to the door where y/n, still in her doctor scrubs and stuff, has just entered through the door and is fumbling to put the keys away. Smiling at the sight Natasha sneaks up behind her partner and hugs her around y/n's waist, chuckling when y/n jumps and drops the keys.

"Natty! Now is not the time to jump scare me with hugs!"

Y/n checked as she turned around and kissed Natasha before forcing the woman off her so she could grab the keys from the floor.

"hmm I think it's always the time to scare you."

Natasha hummed as she enjoyed the view of her girlfriends ass. Y/n stood up and shook her head laughing before the doctor entered the kitchen and grabbed some water.

"Soo... How was work?"

Natasha asked as she herself started to make some coffee. The assassin's amusement growing when she heard y/n groan.

"there was a patient who was wandering the halls and literally ran whenever a doctor or nurse tried to get them to go back to their room. I'm literally exhausted from trying to hunt them down! Oh and to make matters worse they had a lighter and were lighting stuff on fire"

Y/n went on a slight rant about the situation before she finally sighed and drank the glass of water in one and sat the glass in the sink looking back at Natasha

"how about you?"

Y/n questioned as she prepared for Natasha to go in a story where she had to beat up someone or interrogate another.

"nothing crazy today. I was stuck working on mission reports actually."

Natasha chuckled slightly looking at y/n to see her slightly surprised. Not that she blamed her. Natasha always had something unusual happen.

Grabbing her hot coffee Natasha ventured into the living room again and y/n followed her to the couch. Both women sitting down and snuggling close together. It was probably one of the very few domestic moments the two got together as both had busy and unpredictable work schedules.

"how about a movie?"

Y/n brought up as she looked up at Natasha. The widow hummed softly and glanced down at her partners eyes only to see large puppy dog eyes.

"fine... But no romance movies."

The assassin caved immediately. Y/n grinned and nodded going over to the cabinet where the two kept their small stash of movies. Grabbing a comedy y/n slipped it into the DVD player and it begun. And the two women went back to their cuddles.

"hey Nat... Y'know how I like to say your hair looks like fire?"

Y/n said sitting up. Looking like she was about to burst out laughing or freak out.

"yeah... Why?"

Natasha asked now suddenly suspicious as she narrowed her eyes as the doctor.

"well uh... Your hair is umm.. literally.. like.. on fire?"

Y/n smiled as she pointed to the ends of Natasha's hair which was indeed on fire. Natasha screamed and dropped her coffee, immediately rushing into the bathroom to wet her hair and put out the fire.

Natasha came out confused as to how her hair was on fire when she saw y/n cleaning up the broken mug that had held Natasha's coffee and she let it go to go help her girlfriend.

Once the mess was gone Natasha turned to y/n with a slightly accusatory tone

"care to explain how my hair was on fire?"

The Avengers asked as she raised an eyebrow at her now very guilty looking girlfriend who was rubbing the back of her neck.

"well see.. remember that patient who was running around... And their lighter? Soo.. I may have been the one to confiscate it and may have been fiddling with it during the movie and it may have lit up and started to burn your hair but I swear I didn't realise at first and it wasn't my intention!"

Y/n spoke so quickly Natasha nearly missed the whole explanation. Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose the red head sighed and shook her head.

"fine.. I forgive you... This once. And give me the lighter. Better hope I don't light you on fire for revenge."

Natasha smirked as she saw y/n visibly relax slightly and hand over the little red lighter she had. Natasha pocketed the lighter and hugged her girlfriend.

"let's get back to the movie"

Natasha said leading y/n back to the couch so they could both relax and enjoy the rest of the movie and go back to their small cuddling session. Only for once the movie to end y/n scream and run to the bathroom as Natasha laughed.

Natasha had lit y/n's hair on fire.

A/n: I have just realised that the summary probably gives a slight smut type outlook to this... But oh well not my problem :) oh and I wrote this in like half an hour sooo

[dreamingthroughwords]

i think a theme throughout tgcf that truly truly hits me is that of you are not alone especially regarding xie lian and hua cheng. xie lian has been alone for 800 years, wandering, going through so much shit, and he is strong as hell for that. then hua cheng comes and he’s not alone anymore. someone is there to listen to him talk. someone is there to defend him. someone is there to believe in him. even though xie lian is strong, for what he went through, alone, he shouldn’t have to be doing it alone - and hua cheng is there to show him that!!! just because you’ve accepted you’re alone doesn’t mean you are supposed to or should accept it. that’s what makes hualian and the core of the book being them >together< and even fighting xie lians biggest enemy, worst fear all in one - that they defeated him together just such an incredible full circle about showing xie lian he isn’t alone anymore and even though xie lian didn’t know, the times where he was the most alone he wasn’t because hua cheng was there anyways. and this is why one of the lines i never forget especially from book 8, when xie lian tells hua cheng “won’t you stay, it’s been so long since anyone listened to me talk” and “you promised you’d never leave me” just hit so much harder because he truly loves hua cheng so freaking much but also because he isn’t alone and is about to be alone again in that scene - and then once he returns it’s so miraculous and the hope that he’ll return gets xie lian through again.

contrast to hua cheng & also being alone, from his birth to being a soldier to death to becoming a ghost to a ghost king - all of these xie lian was there and noticed him and then that devotion to xie lian made him not so lonely. i feel like this is so present with the cave of 10000 gods because his love for xie lian helped him through the most tumultuous ordeal of going through mount tonglu. the fact that he loved him so much to wait so long. so he wasn’t lonely because he knew xie lian was out there but prior he would always always just miss him or be too weak to save him thus creating who hua cheng is during the story - powerful & strong & ever devoted to xie lian.

both of them have such a contrast of loneliness and being alone but now they are there for each other to never be alone again. hua cheng is there to listen to love and xie lian will do the same. they are both SO important to the other. they’re each others hope, and they’ll always be each others home.

[dragonridernoobie]

Hi! I hope your doing okay, please feel free to ignore if you aren’t feeling up to writing:>

Maybe a cybertronian reader who’s blind? With Ratchet, Optimus, Megatron and Wheeljack(or just Optimus and Megatron if you don’t have the energy for all of them) transformers prime as usual

Also, TRANSFORMERS PRIME OC, their name is Sonic Surge and they are blind(meaning they don’t have eyes in this scenario….)

I've never done a blind OC yet (I think). Also, thank you, but I will always get to a request. I'm injured but doesn't mean I am not writing. It just takes me so long to write stories with one hand without it cramping (Since my Dominate hand decided to get Electrocuted) but I will always get to it. So thank you for you're Patience

Optimus X Blind Reader X Megatron

Optimus

When he was out on a mission with his team, they where attacked by the decpticons when they got to close to a energon mine.

Obviously, they fought back.

Shooting, fighting, the whole jazz.

Intel optimus noticed somthing in the corner of his optic.

A human sitting on the edge of the cave, hiding behind a rock.

So, with carful moves, he ran over and picked the human up.

He called a retreat since they have a human life with them.

Once back at the bace though, he noticed how the human wasn't looking around, or at them. They where just shaking.

So, he asked them their name....(Y/N)

He asked them why they were wearing a visor and they explained they are blind and where born without eyes.

He was very surpised about this.

He welcomed them to the team and made himself (Y/N)s guardian.

Optimus wouldn't lie, he is extra carful with (Y/N).

He helps them when they don't know the layout of the base.

He gives them a ride home and much as possible.

He loves to listen to (Y/N), since because of their blinders, they have to learn everything from touch, sound, smell, and taste.

He finds it so interesting.

Optimus dosent choose favorites...but...he might like (Y/N) a tad more.

Megatron

He ordered his troops to go capture a human pet from the autobots.

When his drone brought a human with no eyes to him, he was surpised, mad.

Mad, because this was not a human pet, and this human was defective!

Though, he will have to give the human props for not freaking out.

They where just sitting in the drones hand, shaking but not making noise.

He asked the human what their name was....(Y/N)

What ever, he ordered the drone to take the human to knockout so he can study the human.

While (Y/N) was with knockout, he found out that knockout and The human have gotten along.

So, he decided to take the human for himself to torture.

Not even 5 minutes later, he is losing his patience.

It's hard to scare somone without eyes.

He decided to just keep a human as a pet.

Surprisingly, he got used to (Y/N) being on his shoulder.

Plus, (Y/N) has sharp hearing so they would be able to tell megatron noises that he hasent heard yet.

He also made sure (Y/N) had their own little room.

Ya, the human is very much megatrons favorite person.

He will portect (Y/N) to.

Especially from starscream.

[slitheringghost]

Voldemort and Manipulation of Power Structures

I wanted to explore one of the most fascinating parts of Voldemort's character, which is his immense consciousness of the power hierarchy and structures of magical society and his ability to manipulate them, as well as his consciousness of his own place in those power structures, and how he often plays on those weaknesses.

There are many ways in which he demonstrates this - i.e. he tells Quirrell “There is no good and evil, there is only power" and seems to follow that regarding his own beliefs; he sees himself in followers similarly disenfranchised as him (Harry, Snape, Ginny, Bellatrix, etc.), and we see him use this with them as a combination of genuine identification and manipulation; and we especially see this hyperawareness of the pureblood power structures that killed Merope in the locket protections (see my meta Slytherin Locket Cave: The Life and Death of Merope Gaunt and this addendum) and how that ties into his consciousness of the legal system and who is vulnerable and disposable to it.

In this meta I’ll explore some more of those instances.

1. Chamber of Secrets

His interactions regarding the Chamber attacks are particularly telling:

“It was my word against Hagrid’s, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student.. on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls

Well, how it looks... is that Armando Dippet, until Tom Riddle specifically clarified to him otherwise, was assuming Tom was Muggleborn, while there was a monster petrifying and hospitalizing Muggleborns for months and ended up killing one, and then told him he'd be safer at his orphanage. This is also something Tom plays on to Harry:

“My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy... the death of that poor little girl.... You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the — er — source of all this unpleasantness...." “Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read.” [...] “I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up.” [...] “Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who’d opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again.”

Tom correctly points out Dippet’s embarrassment about the attacks and attempt to cover them up. Dumbledore says that “Dippet was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty”, yet that didn’t stop Dippet from initially seeing Tom’s life as disposable as other Muggleborns, and it’s clear Tom realized this fact.

2. Half-Blood Prince

There’s Tom joking about being the “half blood heir of Slytherin” with his friends, enjoying the irony of playing on his background:

“I don’t know that politics would suit me, sir,” he said when the laughter had died away. “I don’t have the right kind of background, for one thing.” A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader’s famous ancestor.

And then the way he flirts with and manipulates Hepzibah Smith is particularly interesting to me, especially combined with his framing of Hokey and using Kreacher for the locket:

“Hurry up, Hokey!” said Hepzibah imperiously. “He said he’d come at four, it’s only a couple of minutes to and he’s never been late yet!” “Now then,” said Hepzibah happily, “where’s Hokey? Oh yes, there you are — take that away now, Hokey.” The elf obediently took the boxed cup, and Hepzibah turned her attention to the much flatter box in her lap.

“Now, now, not so fast, or I’ll think you’re only here for my trinkets!” pouted Hepzibah. “I am ordered here because of them,” said Voldemort quietly. “I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes me to inquire —”

Just like he recognizes the parallel between Merope’s treatment and a house elf/slavery, you can tell he’s noticing the same parallel with himself - and he’s playing into it.

Of course, plenty of his politeness with Hepzibah is necessity, but in the above quote he’s milking his “weakness” and playing the obedient servant - because he knows that power dynamic between them is what Hepzibah Smith is attracted to (and that she enjoys fussing over him as the “poor assistant” - i.e. Hepzibah feeding him with the cakes and telling him he’s overworked, etc.).

Then there’s his framing of his uncle - while the majority of the specifics of Morfin’s confession is revenge for his mother, you can tell Tom’s enjoying the irony of framing Morfin and getting him sent to Azkaban for killing Muggles as a fuck you to his pureblood relatives in general:

“And so what? Morfin gave a Muggle a bit of what was coming to him — what about it, then?” “Morfin has broken Wizarding law,” said Ogden sternly. “Morfin has broken Wizarding law.’” Gaunt imitated Ogden’s voice, making it pompous and singsong. Morfin cackled again. “He taught a filthy Muggle a lesson, that’s illegal now, is it?” [...] “Summons! Summons? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?” “I’m Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad,” said Ogden. “And you think we’re scum, do you?” screamed Gaunt, advancing on Ogden now, with a dirty yellow-nailed finger pointing at his chest. “Scum who’ll come running when the Ministry tells ’em to? Do you know who you’re talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?”

“The Ministry, on the other hand, knew at once that this was a wizard’s murder. They also knew that a convicted Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Riddle house, a Muggle-hater who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people. “So the Ministry called upon Morfin. They did not need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to “kill the Riddles. And he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight.

Of course this doesn't stop him being a total hypocrite and looking down on Muggles himself, just like his awareness of house-elf oppression and ability to use it doesn’t stop him from completely underestimating Kreacher.

Because one of the biggest ways Voldemort’s arrogance manifests is his belief in his ability to manipulate these power structures, how he sees himself as an outsider in magical society who is always chessmaster-ing it, his certainty that everyone else but him are simply too imprisoned by those oppressive structures to resist against and fight back against them - that he’s the only one that can truly rise above them.

[sad-scarred-sassy]

Light me up

A Neris two-part story. @nerisweek Free Day

Summary: Nesta Archeron is given as a living sacrifice to the dragon of Velaris. The only problem is he doesn’t want anything to do with it.

Inspired by a prompt made by @writing-prompt-s on tumblr.

Notes: Happy Neris week! I wanted to make a little Neris one shot to celebrate so here it is! This is a low stakes, silly little fic about a dragon and a lost girl finding solace and understanding in one another. I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 or keep reading below the cut.

In the mountain hill of Velaris, hidden in the shadows of an abysmal cave, lay a centuries old fire breathing dragon. He had resplendent scales of crimson and wings so big you could hear its beating from miles away. The few who had seen him and had stared at their terrified reflection through his amber eyes had proclaimed he was the biggest, most ferocious beast they had ever seen. The village feared him, venerated him, for very few knew where he came from and why, but they understood that his appeasement came at a price, and for years they earned the dragon’s graces with presents and sacrifices. That was until one fateful day when the centuries of peace came to an end, when the village decided to send the dragon of Velaris a human woman to burn.

Eris woke up that morning already with a migraine.

He stretched his great wings with a big, monstrous yawn that echoed through the whole cave. The soft light of dawn filtered through the open ceiling of the ancient place, the one he had inhabited for at least one hundred years now, a hollow mountain in the outskirts of a small town, as far away from his old home as he could have possibly gone.

Today marked the anniversary of that fateful day he had landed there, when the villagers had freaked out and had offered him goods in exchange of their lives, even though Eris had no intention of killing any of them, but in his monstrous form, he understood the fear.

He had welcomed the village’s offerings year by year– coffers of gold and rubies (when the economy allowed it), carts filled with fish or harvested goods, chickens, livestock (he had no use for) and even sculptures of his likeness. He still had those stacked somewhere, the big mighty dragon of the hill carved in stone and marble, the copper statue of the feared monster of Velaris.

He liked the arrangement, for a century he lived alone, ate alone, slept alone and knew peace. The villagers would only come once a year, leave the offering and then retreat back to their lives. Eris didn’t care for more.

Today wouldn’t be any different. He waited, with his enormous crimson wings tucked in, for the drums to start, and soon enough they did. He listened to the vibrating beat of their drums as the humans made their way to his lair. The villagers surely liked their shows, always making a big fuss about things. Couldn’t they just leave the damn thing and let him continue with his uneventful existence? His migraine was getting worse.

They were a bit more enthusiastic this time, he pondered with annoyance, as he heard soft chantings coming from the multitude. He rolled his big amber eyes at them as he heard them come.

“Purify us!” He could suddenly make out. “Sacrifice the sinner!”

“Burn the witch!” They chanted. “The Dragon will burn the witch!”

They continued on as Eris simply listened in slight curiosity. Surely it wasn’t what he thought it was. No, it couldn’t be.

He heard the humans opening the cave entrance, rolling the big slab of stone as they continued the chanting and drumming. When they opened it the yells reverberated through the whole cave, he swore sometimes he did regret not just killing them.

From his hiding place he could make out the silhouettes in the opening, the humans were energetic as they brought the offering, and he could suddenly make out a slender form being dragged from the crowd and pushed inside the cave.

“Oof” He heard a soft voice say.

“Burn the witch!” The villagers chanted.

Before Eris could even move his large body the humans had retreated and pushed the entrance closed again, leaving the creature inside his cave.

“Fuck” He heard the voice say again. It was indeed a woman. Eris watched her in utter shock and irritation.

What in the godly realms was this?

Nesta Archeron had seen better days. Well, not in a long time, if being practically homeless and so rotting poor she had to resort to hooking up with men for money counted as better days. It probably did, since now she was lying on the floor of a cold, moist cave, where an ancient dragon lived, and she was to be his next meal.

She couldn’t even say she was surprised by the turn of events. She knew that town had always hated her guts, and were always looking for an excuse to send her to rot. She didn’t think that hooking up with men from town would be the thing that’d do it, though.

Her sisters had warned her, damn them they had, they had kissed her cheek and told her to try and be nice, be likeable. Nesta’s situation wasn’t as bad as it now was when they had wed and left town, she had a house and a job, a quiet but peaceful life, even if she hadn’t had many friends.

But then she had gone and fallen in love with that Knight that everyone loved, and suddenly they all really hated her.

How could she be with someone like him? A mere peasant woman courting the Lord of Velaris’ favorite Knight. And when the pressure to be someone she wasn’t had become too much for her and she couldn’t continue it, he had turned on her like she was spoiled goods, and damn her but she wouldn’t be the one to apologize, even if by being on his bad side had utterly ruined her reputation.

At first when the villagers started spreading rumors of breaking Sir Cassian’s heart by supposedly cheating on him she didn’t care. She kept on with her sad stupid life, but the rumors worsened. Suddenly she was a witch who had charmed him in an effort to secure power for herself. It got so bad she eventually lost her job for it. It was all a downhill from there.

The struggles, the long days and nights with no food because everyone refused to even serve her, her only chance at survival being the hungry men she met at slum taverns.

She was a pariah and soon enough when the annual offering to the dragon of Velaris came to be, and they realized the economy was so bad that by taking the witch of the slums to be eaten as a sacrifice to the beast would be like killing two birds with one stone, they had jumped to the opportunity.

Nesta rubbed her eyes as she assessed the place. It was dark except for the soft light coming from the open ceiling, vines were hanging from above and crows were croaking somewhere in the dark. Other than that it was quiet, so quiet and so still. Nesta shivered, tucking the old wool around her body.

When they grabbed her from the warm bed of one of her lovers they only allowed her the dignity to wear an old worn cloak someone had thrown at her and then they were already pushing her.

She had seen Cassian looking at her when they took her, and he had done nothing to save her. Just like he had done nothing when the rumors got worse, when they called her a whore and a witch and she had to beg people to sell her food. He just looked at her and then dropped his gaze in disappointment.

Nesta couldn’t believe it. She really did it this time. She had tried so hard to fit in, had done everything she could and it still hadn’t been enough. She was still despicable Nesta, she was still useless and unlovable.

She couldn’t help the tears now forming on her eyes and she let them fall for the first time in a long time. She was going to die anyway and no one would see her cry. She just wished the dragon would finish the job already so she could finally get some peace.

As if on cue, she heard a rumbling, heavy scraping on the rocky floor reverberating through the whole cave, and then there he was, huge amber eyes looking at her through slit pupils like a cat’s. Nesta’s whole body shook as she saw the horns as big as her whole body, the teeth, the gleaming blood-red scaled body and the huge mighty wings tucked behind his back.

With a voice she could only describe as demonic, he said: “You have five seconds to run, human”

Humans were very stupid apparently.

Eris stood there in front of the thin woman in all his mighty beastly form and instead of running, or screaming, or even begging for mercy, eyes the color of a stormy sky met his with unfaltering determination.

Had she not understood him? He knew his voice was rusty for lack of use but he still got the message out. Maybe she was a foreigner.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you not hear me human? Run!” He roared, the sound making the whole cave shake. The only thing that moved was her long hair from the force of his breath, he noticed.

Then, she finally fisted her hands as he noticed the tears streaming from her eyes, and the woman stood up.

“I can hear you, dragon. I’m here to be eaten by you as a lame excuse of offering from the humans, so please grant me the honor and light me up on fire or maybe even rip my head off my shoulders, I don’t care. Just do it!”

Eris’ head was pounding now. He really wished he would have just killed those humans all those years ago.

Eris simply huffed an exasperated breath as he stared her down. Her feeble form was covered in a simple grey cloak that was obviously not hers, her long light brown hair was messy and cascading down her back and those flame-like eyes were still digging into his. He hadn’t been this close to a woman in so many years, it felt utterly strange.

“I have no use for human women, especially witches, as they called you” He bluffed. He wanted this day to be over already.

“Then just kill me and be done with it” She insisted. Eris narrowed his eyes at her boldness.

“What is this insistence on getting killed, do you really want to die, woman? The crows would be the ones to eat your body as I have no taste for it”

“I already told you what I want” She affirmed.

“I have no intention of killing you, but I will if you don’t stop messing with my morning” Eris turned to retreat further into the cave. “Go back to your village, human, tell them I do not want you”

As he moved he heard a soft bitter laugh that made him pause.

“Not even the fucking dragon wants me for anything” She said to herself. “Please just spare me having to crawl back to that place and be burned at the stake with those idiots watching me like I’m a show. Just kill me” She said, and Eris watched as she dropped her head.

He could not believe what was happening.

“Don’t be dramatic, just tell them I am content with last year’s offering, and won’t require anything else, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Now, don’t let me lose my temper, go” With his snout he pointed at a small opening on the cave.

“I can’t go back”

“Go, I said”

“Please-“

“GO!” He roared again, and this time he watched as the woman hugged her arms around her body, as silent tears dragged dirt from her face and she pressed her lips together, her eyes shocked and wide. Monster, he was a monster, he reminded himself, he shouldn’t feel any remorse.

He turned to go deeper into the cave then, and a few moments later he finally heard her leave.

Eris lay on the ground, determined to have a good two day long nap and forget all about that incident. But the crows were too loud, and the dripping of water from stalagmites too bothersome, the grey from the sky too poignant. An hour, two hours, five had passed and still he could not find peace.

Was the woman in earnest when she said they would burn her at the stake? Eris tried to ignore the nauseating feeling that thought evoked in him, he snuggled into his wing, it was none of his business. If she died or lived, it was none of his business.

Then make it your business . A soft voice in the back of his mind said.

No, I am at peace here, no one bothers me, no one tries to murder me, it is not my business!

Eris affirmed his thought, the woman dying should not bother him, she was a stranger to him, a witch according to the villagers, she probably deserved what she had coming anyway.

Did you? The voice sounded inside his head again. The images of torches following him to his house in the night appeared in his mind, the shouts calling him a freak, his mother’s screams. No .

With a groan Eris, the mighty dragon of Velaris, stood up from his comfortable chosen napping area and with a few flaps of his colossal wingspan, flew out of his lair for the first time in one hundred years.

Nesta wasn’t surprised as much as she wanted to be. She wanted to be surprised that the moment she stepped out of that cave, four men snatched her and when she tried to explain had immediately told her she would be burned at the stake for cowardice as well as practicing of witchcraft. She had simply rolled her eyes.

They had tied her up and had placed her in the middle of the town’s park to be burned just like she predicted, as a show.

So now there she was, hands and legs tied around a big pole right atop an array of logs and dried hay. Her bare feel ached, her hands were numb. The town began to gather around her, dozens upon dozens of eyes staring at her pathetic self. She just wanted it to be over.

“Nesta Archeron” Said the executioner over the loud drums of the crowd, she didn’t even look at him as she placed Cassian’s eyes looking at her from the far edge of the crowd, his significant height making him unmistakable. “You are to be burned at the stake in the name of God, for the crimes of cowardice and witchcraft…” Nesta stopped listening, the dizzying drums continuing, the world blurring as she finally accepted her fate, to be burned slowly, painfully, in front of all these people, in front of the one she once thought loved her. She wanted to vomit. She wished the dragon had granted her the mercy.

Somehow she realized the executioner had grabbed a torch and was now approaching the pyre at the base of her feet, she focused on the dancing flames on the torch, how they moved freely, just like she did when she danced, unaware that their dancing would kill her, painfully, slowly.

The executioner stood right in front of her pyre and she closed her eyes, one silent tear falling down her cheek. She waited for the heat to come, for the fire to roar and consume her, but it never came.

Instead she heard a boom on the ground, and a loud, ferocious roar coming from behind her.

She saw the executioner’s face drain of color entirely as he dropped the torch at his feet and looked like he may die of fear staring at something behind her. The dragon.

The whole crowd scrambled to get out, people pushing each other to get away from the sheer fury of the beast still roaring at them like some type of demon that had materialized.

Nesta was absolutely petrified as she saw him walk past her, still tied to the pole, while he paced, each step reverberating through her body, scaring the shit out of the whole village.

Then, she saw his enormous head turn towards her, monstrous body turning to her and she finally thought she would die. At least, she conceded, it would be by a dragon’s fire.

But when he opened his magnificent jaw, the fire did not come, she felt him move towards her slowly, hooking one of his sharp teeth to the ropes on her hands and freeing her. Nesta gaped at him.

“Wh-what?” She could not understand.

“Free yourself” The dragon spoke. Nesta didn’t think twice as she removed the remaining ropes from her feet and torso, then just as she wobbly stepped out, she felt a tug from her waist, and suddenly the ground was no longer beneath her, in fact it was getting smaller, and the whole village fell from her as she realized the dragon had taken hold of her and they were now flying.

Nesta screamed.

“Could you not? That is awful for my headache” The dragon grumbled, confusing her out of her fear.

Nesta focused all of her attention on her breathing as she tried not to scream with every look down, with every sinking feeling in her stomach. When they finally landed inside of the cave again, she was so stiff in the dragon’s claw that she had to take a moment to stand, and even then her knees were still trembling.

When everything came back to her, she fell to her knees and sobbed.

“Lady” She heard the beast say. Nesta only cried harder. “Lady could you please stop crying?”

“You-you saved me” She sobbed in shock and disbelief. Her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

“One could say that” She heard him say. “Now please stop crying, I could take you somewhere else, where do you wish to be?”

“I don’t have anywhere to be” She continued crying, now looking up at the dragon’s enormous face, she couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with a beast and that she would have been dead if it wasn’t for him. It was fitting, she thought, as she felt just as much a monster as he looked. “My sisters they’re“ She began but couldn’t stop the freaking sobs. “They’re better off without me” She felt the tears streaming down her face. “I don’t have anywhere, I am a monster, just leave me here to rot in this cave. You’ve done enough”

Nesta curled into herself, trying to warm her body out of the shaking sensation of her sobs.

There was a long pause and then she heard a loud burning sound, like a flame consuming paper, and when she looked up she didn’t find a dragon’s eyes looking at her, but a man’s.

Nesta pushed herself and landed on her ass when she saw the tall, naked man with flaming red hair staring her down. She noticed his amber eyes first, his nakedness second, and his horns and claws third. He moved slowly towards one corner of the cave to retrieve a cloak she hadn’t seen before, covering his magnificently muscular body from her sight. His hands and feet were reddish even though it looked like normal skin, his face was gorgeous and angular, his black horns cutting through the strands of crimson hair that cascaded down his body all the way to his hips. When he turned to her, she realized she had been staring, absolutely agape.

“I don’t appreciate being stared at, but at least I got my point across” He said, his voice like silk coursing through her body. “You say you’re a monster, well, then there’s two of us”

“You’re the dragon, the dragon is a man ?” She spoke mainly to herself.

“I’m Eris, and yes I’m a dragon” He walked casually towards her and held his broad, clawed hand for her to take. She hesitated before she placed her palm inside of his warm hold and he pulled her up. The force almost made her crush onto his strong front, but she steadied herself with a gasp.

“I-“ She was still looking at him absolutely dumbfounded, scared, but mainly enthralled by this new discovery. “I thought you were just-“

“A beast? You wound me, didn’t you see the horns? Of course I’m a beast still” He said somehow a bit self-deprecatingly. “Now, lady, stop wasting my time, what is your name?”

“Nesta” She could not stop staring at his sharp, beautiful face. “Nesta Archeron”

“Well, Nesta. I don’t see any horns or claws on you, so I wonder why you think you’re a monster” He smiled slightly, sharp canines greeting her as he did so. She noticed an array of freckles on his nose.

“I-“ she pondered. “You have freckles”

That took him by surprise. “What of it?”

“Well, I’ve never seen a monster with freckles”

“This must be your lucky day” He turned around and left her standing there. “You said you wanted me to leave you here to rot, but I wouldn’t appreciate the smell of all that, so why don’t I offer you an alternative?” He said as he walked further down the darkness of the cave.

She followed him hesitantly.

“What alternative?”

“Well, I take you as a prisoner, what do you think?”

“Are you asking me to be a willing prisoner?” She asked as she saw him light up a long corridor with just a flick of his wrist. Magic, he also had magic.

“Mmhm” He said as he continued on. “Be my prisoner and live here, do whatever you want but stay out of my business and I would too, you’d be free to leave whenever you liked though, as long as you don’t tell anyone about it”

“About what?”

He stopped, dropped a small sigh as if resigning himself to whatever he was about to say and then straightened.

“This” He said, moving to let her see the small passage, she looked beyond the gap and found an enormous cave alight with flames and a huge tree with glowing orange leaves in the middle.

She gasped at the view.

“Exactly” He said. “I found this place centuries ago, and decided to have it all to myself” He crossed his arms and admired it. “The only way you are leaving this place alive is if you vow to never speak of it” He said in a seemingly threatening way, but Nesta wasn’t scared anymore, she was in awe.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me to marry you” She said not looking at him.

“What? No I’m not” He said. “I’m saying you’ll be my prisoner”

“Willing prisoner that will take a vow and can leave whenever she pleases, sounds like marriage to me” She said and found his shocked expression almost funny.

“Not marriage. Imprisonment. Gosh, humans are so strange” He corrected, rubbing his temples with his hands. She remembered he had mentioned a headache.

She stepped towards the dragon-man slowly, then placed her middle finger onto his temple making him jump and flinch away slightly.

“What are you-“

“Stay still, you said you had a headache?” She said, feeling out the cold flame power surging from inside of her.

“Yes… why-“

She let her cooling power seep through her fingers, letting its essence cool his temple. He let out a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing? How?” He frowned, voice breathy, clearly relieved of the pain.

“They weren’t completely lying when they said I’m a witch, in a way I am. I’m just… repaying you for saving my life today” She said, dropping her hand as Eris stared at her dumbfounded.

“Don’t mention it” He mumbled, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. She felt almost as lost as he looked, still confused and shocked by everything that had happened in such a short amount of time.

“Why did you?” She felt the need to ask.

“What?”

“Save me”

“You’re being dramatic”

“I almost died” She added with a frown.

He sighed. “Well, I simply would have liked if someone had done that for me. Is that enough of an answer for you, lady?” He rolled his eyes and she narrowed hers.

“You can just call me Nesta” She said, crossing her hands over her chest. “If I’m to be your wife”

“Prisoner”

“Sure”

He sighed again. “Follow me” He said, and Nesta did.

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Introduction

Reader insert ACOTAR fanfic, pairing tbd

Premise: 21st century fem!reader gets transported to the world of ACOTAR after a freak incident.

warnings: none, maybe a lil angsty

A/n: Hello! This is my first fic and an idea I have been wanting to see portrayed for a while. As of now the pairing could literally be anyone but personally I am partial to Eris or Cassian. Let me know if there are any tropes you'd like to see. I wanna make this a fun space so enjoy!!

Other chapters

It was colder than you had expected it to be. The Highlands were known for being cold and rainy but since summer began you had half hoped half prayed for a warm sunny day. The skies were obstructed by heavy looking clouds. It would rain soon and the end of the hike was nowhere in sight. Maybe this is why people shouldn't travel alone, you thought as thunder roared from above. If I was with someone I'm sure they would have checked the weather. But this was why you'd flown half way across the world by yourself. "I want to get lost in new cities" you had said to your parents who never thought this was a good idea to begin with. "I want to explore the world" how hopeful you were when it was just an idea. Now though, now you had to find shelter unless you wanted to get soaked. "This is so not worth it" you grumbled to yourself while looking around for some type of cover. There hadn't been a trace of civilization for a few hours now and according to the map the lodge was still a few miles away. Groaning, you go off the path and into the thick forest hoping to find a tree, a cave, a cabin, anything that could protect you from the weather. You walk in a straight line, careful not to get lost. Lightning strikes and thunder rattles you as you start to increase your pace a bit. The forest is dark and the wind sounds like a voice telling you to run. Run. Run. You start to jog a little, constantly looking back to make sure the path is still visible. To your horror, thick fog has rolled in from the mountains making it impossible to see more that twenty feet in front of you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You hadn't prepared for this. Hiking was always something you enjoyed, but you had no real survival skills. Other than a bit of information gleaned from your grandparents' stories or survival reality shows. I should stay here. That was the logical thing to do, avoid getting even more lost, once the fog clears make your way back. But another gust of wind urged you. Run. Run. Run. You looked around but there was nothing, absolutely nothing there except the trees, the wind and the ever encroaching rain. Nothing, not even an animal, not even an insect. Fuck. With a jump you start running in the opposite direction of the path. Something is wrong. Something feels off and wrong and you need to get away. There's a clearing coming up and a bit of sun is slipping through the break in the forest canopy. You stop dead in your tracks as you take in what's in front of you. Boulders the size of refrigerators are lined up in what seemed to be a perfectly symmetrical circle. Chills climb up your back. You walk slowly towards it, careful not to touch anything. The space feels sacred here. As you get closer you see that there are smaller and smaller boulders until they become tiny little rocks lined up exactly the same. Sweat runs cold. They seem to circle around nothing. In the center is a small round patch of grass lined with small mushrooms. Run. Run. Run. You don't know where to go, being here feels wrong but there seems to be an invisible wall that won't let you run back to the forest. The only way out was through. You walked slowly, as if someone was surveilling you, waiting, hoping for you to mess up. Avoiding any branches or roots that might make you trip, you get to the patch of grass. Thunder roared all around you. It shook the whole forest and left a ringing in your ears. Stepping over the mushrooms you place you right foot first and then the left. Only the floor is gone and you're falling. Falling. Falling. There's an immense pressure all around you, it feels like you're being pushed by the darkness itself and you're falling.

Just as it started it's over.

Shaking, you try to take a breath. What the fuck just happened? It's the only thing you can think. You take another breath and look up from the ground you just fell on. It's the forest. You realize you are lying in the middle of the same clearing. Well, it looks like the forest except the boulders and rocks are gone, the space barren. I'm gonna throw up. Run. Run. Run. You try to get up and manage to stand on wobbly legs as you feel for any injuries from the fall. There's no blood anywhere and the only pain seems to be the growing headache from trying to grasp what's happening. Then you hear them. Steps. Someone or something is close. You take off running back to where the path should be not willing to risk getting attacked by an animal. You're panting as you run and you look back for a second to make sure no one is chasing you when you run straight into a tree and blackness takes over.

You wince as you open your eyes and feel the thumping pain coming from your forehead, you touch it and feel a lump forming. Great. The fire crackles beside you and you freeze. Looking to the side you are terrified in place as you see an ethereal looking man with long red hair and a scar down his face looking back at you. "Hello", his tone is bored. "Who are you and what are you doing in this court?" You open your mouth to answer but close it again as you look closer. His ears are pointed and his eye seems to be mechanical. I've got to be hallucinating. Uncertain, you answer "I'm y/n and I have no idea where I am or how I got here." Did I eat one of those mushrooms? This has to be the worst trip ever. You swallow and more quietly say "Am I in danger?" He pokes at the fire and says "I'm not going to hurt you, but this isn't a safe place for a human". "What's your name?" he sighs, like he's tired of answering that question.

"Lucien".

[igotanidea]

Secrets: batfamily x ScarlettWitch!reader

The graphic is not mine, found it on pinterest.

Story requested by @p4inis - I know it's been ages, sorry! : Jason x scarlet witch fem reader? She’s best friend w dick and she secretly works with Batman then the boys found out when she entered the bat cave and tried to pick a fight with Batman ?

***

„BRUCE!” the very angry voice echoed through the stone walls of the batcave and very angry girl came to the view “What the hell?!”

“Y/N?” Jason stood up from his chair, shock on his face “What are you doing here?”

“And more importantly, how did you get here?” Dick was equally as surprised as his brother.

“Can someone explain to me, who is this girl?” Damian frowned.

Let me stop the story right here and give you a bit of context.

Y/N Y/L/N, born and raised in Gotham were best friend with Dick Grayson from the day he arrived at the city. Poor boy, who just lost his parents were just wondering around the street, all by himself, moody and clearly looking for trouble. Y/N was getting back from school when she encountered him, brooding in one of the alleys,  absentmindedly kicking a trash can while muttering something to himself. In any other circumstances, she would just walk past him, but something inside her told her to stop and she listened to that little voice, taking her time in observing the boy with her eyes slightly narrowed and head tilted.

“Too much on your mind?” she finally asked after a while of hesitation

“Yes.” He muttered not even looking up at her

“Need a pair of ears to listen to your sad story?”

“Why do you care?” Dick’s eyes landed on her face “you don’t know me.”

“I don’t. But I can tell you are in need of a friend. I’m Y/N.” she took a few steps forward and extended her hand

“Dick.” The boy shook it hesitantly

“Really?” she smiled lightly at the name he gave her

“Yes.” His tone became harsher.

“Ok, all right, no hard feelings there, Dick.” Y/N raised her hands in defense “wait, you’re the Wayne’s kid.”

“How do you know?”

“I….. I don’t know….. I just sort of sensed that.”

“Sensed? Is there anyone normal in this city?” Dick rolled his eyes

“Hey! Careful there, boy! I might take offence.”

“Sorry. I’m not really used to people dressed like clowns and bats running around the streets and citizens to have superpowers.”

“ What can I say? Welcome to Gotham, Dick.”

And that was how their friendship started and lasted for years. However, there was one thing Y/N never told Dick. She did have powers. Maybe not at the time when they met, but when she was somewhere around 18 they started to show. Out of nowhere, she could hear people’s thoughts, the objects around her started to move and when she was nervous or scared the air around her was literally turning red. Oh, and sometimes, people around her saw the things she wanted them to – some sort of illusions. That was when her mother told her that she was holding the power of a Scarlett Witch and poor girl did not like it at all. In the city of freaks and criminals she always prided herself on being normal, ordinary, usual. She never wanted any skills. To be honest, she got scared and due to her conflicted emotions her powers started causing troubles. The only option was to leave Gotham for a while and learn how to get it under control. Her mother, a witch herself, contacted some old friends and Y/N was sent to train with the old order of sorceresses.

She got back after a whole year, finding Gotham in worse condition than ever. From what she learned in a quick time, there was a new vigilante, calling himself the Red Hood running around and causing havoc.  One time, when she focused, she got into his mind, feeling all the rage and pain and fear and regret. She saw his story of how he was killed by Joker and brought back to life. All the conflict he had with Batman, because apparently they were a family once, and at some point in life he was his sidekick, Robin. She broke this mind connection before finding out the real identities of anyone. That was private and she never wanted to know. Second thing was Dick. Their contact during the last year was a bit limited, since while her training she was not exactly allowed to use phone and internet so they rarely talked and when she returned, the girl found out that Dick left Gotham and resided in Bludhaven. Third thing was Batman’s newest sidekick, apparently calling himself Red Robin, who was on her tail, treating her like some sort of threat. After a month of playing cat and mouse with him, she got inside his head and practically commanded him to meet her so they could talk without acting like kids.

“What do you want with me?” they were standing in front of each other on the rooftop surrounded by Gotham’s darkness.

“The question is, why is someone like you just sitting around doing nothing?” he retorted

“I’m sorry. Someone like me?” she scoffed “who do you think I am?”

“Please. You’re not so hard to crack.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him waiting for some more explanation “you are Scarlett Witch. You have so many crazy level skills, so why are you passive if you could do so much good for this city?”

“You remind me of someone from my past, you know. Someone who practically called me a freak the first day we met.”

“I never said you were a freak.”

“No. No you did not. And I am not. At least, not anymore that I learned how to control my abilities I never asked for. ….“ she hesitated “Now. I am not going to go inside your head, but I strongly suggest you to tell me the truth why you were on my tail, lately.”

Red Robin sighed deeply considering what words to choose to reveal to her the real reason behind his action. Clearly this girl couldn’t be deceived with half-truth.

 “It’s Batman.”

“Batman? What does your boss have to do with it?”

“He’s not my boss. But he wants to be yours.”

“I’m not planning on becoming a sidekick of his.” She scoffed “If anything I work alone.”

“ Just listen to me, all right? Let me convince you.”

“You entertain me, Red Robin. You know, I was fairly familiar with your predecessors. The original Robin tried to save my ass from the assaulters once, the second bumped into me while chasing the robbers. They both seemed …. too enthusiastic and energetic. It can cause trouble at times. You seem more …. rational. Wiser. And I appreciate that, so I’ll listen to you.  Tell me then, what can Batman possibly offer me to join him in his work?”        

He convinced her, talking about the people and doing good work and being trained by the Batman himself. He offered her wide range of freedom, so she wouldn’t have to be a sidekick. He talked and talked about how the joint efforts can bring good effect. He might have also slipped something about admiring her and the things she can do and how he himself would like the opportunity to work with her. And she agreed, keeping her alliance with Red Robin and Batman a secret.

After making such important choice, she realized it would be nice to get back in touch with Dick so she simply called him and they rebuilt their friendship. They even went far enough to reveal their other identities to each other.

“Wait, you were the original Robin?!”  her eyes went wide upon hearing the news “you were the one who tried to save me during that assault?! Damn it, Dick.”

“You never really needed my help.” He shrugged “now I know why. Scarlett Witch, huh? Makes sense. What exactly can you do apart from getting inside people’s heads?”

However, she never told him she was secretly working with his foster father.

Not when during one of the mission she found out that Red Hood real identity was Jason Todd and he was in fact Bruce’s son and Dick’s brother.

Not when she fell in love with such brother.

Not when she started working with the latest Robin aka Damian.

Not when one time Dick asked her to join him on the mission.

Not when he suggested she could be a part of bat team, even if the team already consisted of too many people who tended to fight with one another (mostly Dick and Jason).

She kept in the dark and it was getting harder to control who knew what about her. Dick and Jason were aware of her real name and her alias, but not that she was occasional Batman’s partner. Damian knew only the Scarlett Witch and working with Batman part and Tim knew everything, of course while Cass, Steph and Babs knew her only as Y/N, their civilian friend. It was crazy.

Until the day when Bruce broke his promise of giving her mission freedom and she got really angry. Despite their agreement, Batman interfered in Scarlett Witch’s contacts on the drug trafficking causing the informants to fled from the city and her operation went south.

“Get out of my way!” she yelled when both Dick and Jason blocked her way demanding some explanation.

“Y/N. why don’t you just calm down a little, all right?” Dick started, trying his best not to worsen the situation. After all she was the freaking Scarlett Witch. She could have them on the ground wincing in pain within seconds. It was better not to mess with her

“Yeah, I will calm down right after the freaking Batman keep his promises!” she yelled

“Wait, what? What promises? I don’t get it…..” Damian frowned again “Father, who is this girl?”

“Leave us.” Bruce spoke calmly

“What is going on here?” Tim emerged from the door and as his eyes landed on Y/N he understood everything  “Oh, shit…..”

“Can someone tell me…..?”

“Shut up Damian!” Jason, Dick and Y/N yelled in unison

“I said: leave us.” Bruce repeated in his most stern tone, yet no one paid attention to him anymore

“I don’t understand half of what’s happening but I’m not leaving” Jason laughed  “If my girl goes full Scarlett Witch on Bruce I’d love to see it.” He moved towards Y/N and kissed her cheek making her blush a bit. “Don’t hold back, babe. I like that wild side of yours.” He smirked

“Stop it, Jace!” she tried to rid herself of him

“Wait. SHES THE SCARLETT WITCH!?” Damian exclaimed “but she looks so….. ordinary.”

“WATCH YOUR TONGUE, DEMON!”

“Before someone get hurt….” Dick started blocking Jason and Damian from killing each other

“LET ME GO DICKHEAD! HE JUST OFFENDED MY GIRLFRIEND!”

“ I JUST STATED THE OBVIOUS! SHE LOOKS NORMAL!”

“THAT IS A STEP UP FROM HOW YOU LOOK!”

“Do you work with Bruce Y/n? I mean, Batman? Why didn’t you tell me?” Dick’s finally caught up on the situation and glanced at his best friend with hurt expression.

“You have always been a bad detective, Dick. Of course she works with Batman. I was the one who offered her this position.” Tim smirked

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“It was my idea…..”

“YOU GOT HER INVOLVED IN THIS SHIT!?”

Now, everyone was fighting everyone and it was hard to tell when all of this started. Y/N and Bruce were just standing in the middle of the havoc, eyes switching between all of the boys with despair and embarrassment (Bruce) and disbelief and amusement (Y/N).

“You know, Bruce, I came here to confront you about interfering with my operation, but I don’t think I am angry anymore.”

“I can see. However, I wanted to tell you, that I got you the information you needed to finish it.”

“Really, you did? How?” she turned slightly from the scene in front of her and looked straight at Bruce

“A bit of intimidation and mention of powerful woman coming after anyone who refused to cooperate.”

“A powerful woman, huh?”

“Catwoman, of course.”

“Of course” she nodded “Thank you, Bruce. Business with you is …. tolerable, I guess.”

 “But we’re not partners.” He muttered

“Obviously” she smirked “never were, never will be.” They were both liars.

“Do you think we should stop the boys from killing each other?” Bruce wondered

“Do you think we can?”

“Well, you are the Witch here. As much as I hate magic, can’t you do something?”

“Did you see them?” Y/N pointed towards the four unhinged figures yelling at each other “that’s beyond my level of expertise.”

“So…. we just leave?”

“Yes. Yes, we just…. leave. They will sort it out by themselves, right?”

“And it’s not because we are terrified of what they can do…..” Bruce muttered retreating backwards

“Absolutely not….. We just should discuss the case.”

“Yes. We should discuss the case.”

“Cause it’s really important.”

“Vital.”

“And it definitely can’t wait.”

“Shall we then?” Bruce pointed toward the exit and without any further ado they both disappeared from the cave leaving boys to deal with their banter themselves.

[sourmaybank]

Chapter Five: Trick or Treat, Freak

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 2.2k

A/N: this chapter is definitely my favorite one that I've written for this series! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! This made me realize I'm SO ready for Halloween! 🎃

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"That's your costume?" Max's eyes were wide, a mix of surprise and the typical candor that Lyra had come to expect. There was no malice there, just the blunt honesty. Taken aback but not entirely shocked by her bluntness, Lyra's gaze dropped to her last-minute costume. The leather clung to her like a second skin, the fishnets adding a layer of punk rock chic that she had thought was perfect for the night.

Yet, seeing herself through her sister's eyes, she couldn't help the grimace that tugged at her lips. "It's that bad?" Her voice was a soft echo of doubt amidst the certainty of her sister's judgment. Max simply shrugged. "Neil's going to freak when he sees that nose ring." There was a hint of amusement in her tone, the kind that suggested she was picturing the scene already.

Lyra reached up instinctively, her fingers grazing the small, gold hoop that adorned her right nostril. It was a bold choice, but it was also a harmless rebellion. "It's fake." She replied quickly, the defense a knee-jerk reaction to the implied criticism. The nose ring was just another part of the costume, a temporary addition to her look that could be removed with the same ease as the leather jacket that hung off her shoulders.

It was all part of the night's facade, a character she could put on and take off at will. But for a moment, under her sister's scrutinizing gaze, it felt almost real. "You and Billy could be twins." Although she knew the redhead meant it as a joke, Lyra's stomach twisted into knots thinking back to what had happened a few hours prior. Max's voice cut through her reverie, pragmatic and laced with concern.

"So I take it you're still going to that party?" Lyra nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. "You know I have to go, Max. Billy's a completely different person when he's high and wasted," She sighed, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and protectiveness. It wasn't just a party for her; it was a mission to keep her brother safe from his excesses.

Max's expression softened, her teasing demeanor giving way to sisterly affection. "Just...be careful, okay?" She urged, reaching out to squeeze Lyra's hand. Lyra offered a small, determined smile. "Always am," She replied, though the promise felt as flimsy as the fake nose ring she wore. Tonight, she'd be the guardian angel dressed in devil's clothing, watching over her brother, hoping the night would end with nothing more than a hangover and a few good stories.

After trudging through the neighborhood for what felt like miles, their shoes scuffing against the cracked sidewalks lined with jack-o'-lanterns, Max turned to Lyra with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine Trick-Or-Treating on my own if you want to go to the party. Knowing Billy he's already there." Lyra bit her lip, the streetlights casting long shadows as costumed children darted past them, their laughter a stark contrast to the unease knotting her insides.

She wasn't fond of the idea, the protective streak in her always on high alert during nights like these. Max could see the hesitation dancing in Lyra's eyes, the way she clutched her candy bag a little tighter. With a playful roll of her eyes and a dramatic sigh, Max launched into a full-on campaign. She promised she'd stick to well-lit streets, and, most importantly, be back before Niel got home.

After what seemed like an eternity of bargaining, Lyra's resolve began to crumble like the leaves beneath their feet. With a final, half-hearted grumble, she caved, extracting one last pinky promise from Max that she'd stay alert and stay safe. Lyra watched her sister disappear into the sea of costumes, the weight of worry settling in her chest. With a sigh that misted in the chilly night air, she reached into her jacket pocket, her fingers brushing against the crumpled edges of the orange flyer that had been burning a hole there all evening.

She unfolded it with trepidation, the bold letters announcing the party she dreaded. Unlike her brother, who seemed to thrive in the chaos of loud music and raucous laughter, Lyra found no joy in such gatherings. The very thought of the noise and the crowds made her skin crawl. But the image of Billy, with a drink in hand and his judgment clouded, forced a knot of anxiety to tighten in her throat. Their argument earlier that day replayed in her mind, the harsh words still echoing.

Despite their spat, her protective instincts wouldn't allow her to turn a blind eye. Especially not when she knew all too well the kind of trouble Billy could find—or cause—when alcohol loomed over him like a puppeteer. And if he didn't have her there to keep him in check, he'd either land himself in a situation they'd all regret, or worse, he'd come home to face their father's temper alone. The mere thought sent a wave of nausea through Lyra, her stomach plummeting. 

She knew what she had to do.

As the crowd mingled in the front yard of Tina's house, ranging from Cobra Kai to Madonna lookalikes—the rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the chatter. Heads turned as Lyra made her grand entrance, the engine of her cherry-red motorcycle purring like a beast ready to pounce. She pulled off her helmet, releasing a cascade of dirty blonde waves that caught the moonlight just right, giving her an almost ethereal glow. As she kicked the stand down and swung her leg over the bike, the crowd's awe was palpable.

Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire, and for a moment, it felt as if time had slowed down just for her. Lyra's confidence was magnetic, her presence commanding the attention of everyone around her. She tossed her helmet under her arm and strutted towards the party, her smile a mix of daring and delight.

The partygoer's eyes followed her every move as she walked past. As Lyra made her way through the front door, the chaos of the party hit her like a tidal wave. The house was teeming with teenagers whose inhibitions had been left at the doorstep. Raucous laughter and shouts filled the air, punctuated by the occasional pop of a beer can opening. She sidestepped a couple who were far too engrossed in each other to notice her, their lips locked in a fervent embrace against the living room wall.

Everywhere she looked, there were scenes of revelry and abandon: groups of friends clustered together, some dancing with abandon to the thumping bass that vibrated through the floorboards, others engaged in animated conversation that was mostly yelling to be heard over the music. The floor was a graveyard of empty beer cans and red solo cups, discarded without a second thought by hands eager for the next drink.

Lyra's eyes darted from face to face, searching for the familiar contours of Billy's features, but he was nowhere to be seen within the crowded rooms. The knot of worry in her chest pulled tighter with each passing second. Then, a commotion from the backyard caught her attention the unmistakable sound of a ruckus that Billy was so adept at causing. Deciding to momentarily ignore it, she walked over toward the kitchen island hoping to find a non-alcoholic drink.

Instead, she found a punch bowl that looked a little too intimidating for her taste. "Care for a drink?" A tall sandy-blonde guy in a football jersey asked, catching her off guard. She quickly shook her head, hoping he would get the message and move along. Upon noticing the helmet tucked under her arm, the sandy-blonde boy made the connection. "Shit, so you're the chick that owns the Yamaha FZR600 parked outside." Lyra nodded, surprised that her arrival had already become a topic of conversation in such a short amount of time.

With a confident smile, he introduced himself as James, clearly trying to make a good impression. "And what's your name, gorgeous?" He asked, stepping closer. "We've met before." She responded nonchalantly waiting for the jock to recall their encounter in the hallway. She watched as he quickly made the connection once more. "I remember you," He smirked, his tone dripping with flirtation. "It was pretty hot seeing you all fired up." She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his comment, not impressed by his choice of conversation.

However, James was completely oblivious to her lack of interest. "Over Byers, though?" He laughed, making Lyra clench her jaw in annoyance. "Shit, he's just as much of a freak as Munson," Lyra rolled her eyes. "Believe me, you don't want to be seen around them. They're not worth your time, gorgeous." She didn't have a chance to respond due to immediately spotting Billy stride across the room, a look of determination written all over his features. She saw her brother corner a brunette boy, their standoff radiating of testosterone.

"We've got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington." She overheard one of the guys cheer tauntingly. "Suck it, King Steve." Another teased making a triumphant smirk appear on Billy's face. She could only guess that he was the 'King Steve' whom Billy had dethroned. Suddenly, Billy's eyes locked with Lyra's from across the crowded room, and a protective glint sparked in his gaze as he noticed James lingering nearby. Giving Steve, one final glare, Billy made his way over to his sister, not even acknowledging James with a word. "Beat it," He grumbled, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Lyra couldn't help but stifle a laugh as she watched the jock grab a nearby beer and saunter off, clearly intimidated by Billy's presence. The silence between Billy and Lyra felt heavy, as if they were both searching for the right words to say. Finally, Billy broke the silence, his eyes falling on the helmet in Lyra's grasp. "You brought the motorcycle?" He questioned, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his voice. 

Lyra shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I wasn't gonna walk," She scoffed, reaching for a rogue water bottle on the counter. Billy couldn't help but comment on Lyra's attire, raising an eyebrow. "Dressed like that?" He deadpanned. Lyra's defenses immediately went up. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" She scoffed, her tone defensive. Billy let out a frustrated sigh, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "No surprise that dirtbag was hittin' on you. You're lucky I saw you in time," He mumbled, his concern evident. Lyra's frustration grew.

"I've told you several times before, I can take care of myself," She retorted which made Billy scoff. Fed up with the tension, Lyra couldn't help but snap, growing tired of his attitude that was giving her whiplash. "You know what, screw you. Go back to doing whatever the hell you were doing before I got here." She growled, her frustration boiling over. But before she could storm off, Billy reached out, his hand circling her wrist. "Lyra, wait," He called out, his voice filled with a mix of regret. "Can we just forget about all this? Just have a reckless night for once?" He motioned vaguely between the two of them.

Lyra looked at him, her expression softening. "This?" She questioned, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I only came to this stupid party because I didn't want you to get in trouble with Dad. Even if we fought, some part of me wanted to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. So, forgive me for looking out for you." She huffed in frustration and anger. Lyra felt the sting of tears threatening to spill, a mix of emotions swirling within her. 

She didn't know whether the tears were for the sun-soaked memories of California. Or whether they were born from the unfamiliar strain between her and Billy. A strain that had been absent in their lives until they found themselves in the strange, unsettling world of Hawkins. "Sunshine-" Lyra's heart clenched at the nickname, a vestige of a simpler time. She shook her head, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her despite the coldness she wanted to project.

"You're forgiven," Her voice was barely above a whisper, betraying the turmoil inside her. "I—I just need some air." She didn't linger to catch the look of relief that flickered across Billy's face, nor did she stay to see it quickly replaced by the familiar shadow of remorse. She pushed through the door, stepping out into the night where the chill wrapped around her like a much-needed embrace.

[mageofseven]

Okay first off, I wanna say sorry for how long it took me to get to this! I had intended to get to this quickly, but I got too focused and inspired with my ship series' I've been writing.

Better late than never though, right? 😅

Reminder for others that this continues off of this post. Since that post is from a point before I started writing for Mephisto, sadly my sweet noble tsundere won't be in here.

Now let's get started~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Okay so I would like to start by organizing these men into their roles. Those who hovered, those who didn't but still were actively by her side and taking cave of her, those who took care of the pregnancy related issues not directly attached to MC's being (scheduling doctors appointments, paying bills, retrieving any med or vitamins she needs, etc.), those who heavily carried her via emotional support, those who accidentally would make her feel worse, and those who had a way of making her destress as if nothing has changed, maybe some others if I think of more as I go.

After this, I will continue with the story of her pregnancy and how the men discover and react tor her carrying multiples. Unlike most of my pregnant MC stories though, I'm not going to give her some huge risk in this one. She...well, the poor woman is already under enough stress as it is 😅

~

The Major Hoverers:

Lucifer- No surprise here. This man is...well, he is stressed and anxious in general, but to see his love so anxious and in low spirits while knowing he himself might be a dad once more in the coming months...it's just a lot for this poor man. Does his very best to make sure nothing goes wrong and that MC is as comfort and healthy as possible.

Mammon- This dude is fucking terrified of screwing this up. He doesn't know if this is his kid or not and at this point, he can't let himself even think about it or he'll just get even more nervous. Right now, his Human is the priority and he's gotta take care of her--and try not to fuck up in the process.

Active Caretakers, but They Chill:

Simeon: Even once it finally occurs to this man that this child could be genetically his, he doesn't freak out; he simply doubles down. His Feather doesn't need him bringing her more anxiety after all.

Asmo: This sweet man is constantly giving her massages and whispering sweet words in her ears. Yes, his poor Dolly is very achy and emotional from the pregnancy, but he does his very best to make it easier on her!

Beel: Regardless of what he's eating or how much he has left, he will always offer some of his food to her. He can also often be found with his hand on her belly in some fashion, especially when she is the most upset. MC loves the feeling of having at least one of his big hands on her belly because it makes her feel so comforted and safe.

Satan: Unsurprisingly, this man was constantly reading pregnancy books to try and understand what her body was going through and what he could to make things easier on her. He would also read aloud to her any book she wished as a way of distracting her from the stress of it all.

Belphie: This man...he has glue himself to this woman out of a strong mixture of love and obligation. Yes, he hates every single thing about this situation, but this man has a moral debt to the love of his life because of the night he murdered her so you can bet your ass he's staying by her side, forgoing naps (that she doesn't join him for), and is doing anything she needs him to do.

Barbatos: This man barely makes it onto this list because he has an actual time intensive job to attend to, but he is so determined to be by his Dear's side that he makes it work. Barb has such a calming influence on MC and it seems that just by him showing up, whatever was upsetting her or whatever problem arose was suddenly not so bad because she knew Barb could fix things.

Handlers of the More 'Covert' Pregnancy Issues:

Diavolo: He paid for everything; literally everything. This man felt so guilty that he couldn't be with MC as much as he wanted to be. He visited as much as possible, but in truth, he wished desperately that he could be up on the list of Active Caretakers. Being a prince and the work load that comes with it acts as a barrier to this though so the best he can do for his sweet Queen is to shoulder the financial side of this pregnancy. Doctors appointments. Medications. Any tests she needs done. He makes sure they are all paid for and she doesn't need to worry about a thing in this regard. Also buys the bulk of the baby things. The clothes, the furniture, the toys. He went a bit over board, but the look on MC's face made it all worth it. She cried thick happy tears because her baby already has more than she ever had as a child and so it made her feel more secure about her child's future.

Barbatos: This man handles the scheduling of her doctor appointments and is usually the one the one to bring her to them. Some how makes sure she is never late no matter how the day originally goes or what bad luck my strike that day.

Lucifer: Is next in line to bring MC to her doctor appointments if Barb isn't available to. Tends to ask the doctor a million and one questions and wants copies of the doctor's notes on MC and the baby to go through during his limited free time. Also insists on being the one to pick up her meds and be the one to give them to her each day. Those vitamins are important, MC, and he needs to make sure you take them.

Emotional Support Supermen:

Simeon: Are you even surprised? This has been his role since the very moment he sensed the baby and he's not giving it up as long as his poor lamb needs him.

Asmo: The king of making others feel loved and important. MC is in good hands.

Solomon: Would love to be listed as an Active Caretaker of his sweet little Minx, but the others, most of the brothers to more specific, seem to resent it if he even tries to help out too much and so he tends to stick to the sidelines. Still, he always has a kind word ready and a new perspective to offer when needed. Soli is definitely a person to call when MC gets too overwhelmed and becomes too focused on a bad possibility.

Those Who Stress Her Out:

Leviathan: This man spend most of her pregnancy hiding from her; he takes it all really hard. In truth, he makes it up to her later after the birth, but for now, he hides away in his room like he does when anything scares him and MC is terrified for months that she has lost him over this 😢

Belphie: Believe or not, most of the time he's fine. Despite his opinion of the situation or the fact that he doesn't like kids, he doesn't let any of that control him. It's MC who knows how he feels about all of this who sometimes gets overwhelmed with her fears and worries, usually resulting in her heavily sobbing about how he's going to leave her (because why not, it feels like Levi already has), but it always ends with Belphie holding her tight and swearing to her "I'm not going anywhere, Butthead."

Lucifer: He mostly does fine, but she hates when he comes to her appointments with her because it feels almost like he harasses the poor doctor. Yes, she knows he does it out of worry, but that poor doctor doesn't deserve such criticism.

Her 'Everything Is Normal' Peeps:

Solomon: Honestly, most of the other men make a big deal about her baby and the upcoming changes and in truth, they are a very big deal. However, sometimes it feels like they don't treat her like they used to. Instead of treating her like the person they've always known and love, they treat her like porcelain with a belly. Solomon doesn't. He treats her no differently during the pregnancy than he did before it to the point that some of the other man scold him for it, believing he is too reckless with the pregnant woman. MC appreciates it though and feels like he sees the woman behind the big belly.

Barbatos: Unlike Solomon, he gives MC a similiar feeling without being reckless. He will often take MC out of House of Lamentation to give her a break from the other men, but usually not far; often just to the back garden. The two would sit and talk about just about anything, except the child she carried that caused her back aches and the men inside to go insane about her. Giving her time to focus on other parts of life helped her feel more like a person again and less strangled by upcoming motherly responsibilities and for that, MC deeply appreciated her butler boyfriend.

The Sweetie that Comes with Sweets:

Of course I'm talking about sweet baby Lukey! He's going to be a big brother after all so how could he stay back and not help?

And in truth, he is a major help to MC emotionally. His presence alone makes her whole day better.

It's cute seeing his face as he learns different things about MC's changing body (nothing graphic, just things like how the baby starts out smaller than a pea and somehow grows to baby size and stretches her belly along the way. It blows his freaking mind lol)

The moment he first felt the baby kick inside MC's belly, part of him swore up and down it had to be a prank because how can a baby who hasn't even been born do that???

MC has a lot of sugar cravings during her pregnancy so this kind little baker makes her a lot of sweets.

Simeon ends up having to gently ask the two to cut back on the baked goods--gestational diabetes is a thing after all 😅

That's ok because Lukey is the sweetest part about her day after all 💕

Now with that that all sorted, let's move onto MC's experience during the pregnancy!

The Story:

It was a very stressful pregnancy for her

Starting the very moment Levi hid away from her after hearing the news about her baby.

Right away, she lost one man that she loved and it killed her.

It was a very hard start to the pregnancy.

Luckily, the other men broke through the shock and stayed by her side, determined to take care of her and her child regardless of whether the baby's genetics matched theirs or not.

During the first trimester, the morning sickness was brutal, but the men comforted her through it.

It was mainly Lucifer, Mammon, or Asmo with her in the bathroom though, holding her hair back and comforting her as she cried and begged for it to just end.

She often had a headache during and after the morning sickness so the poor woman was just miserable.

She was also constantly in a pretty lethargic state, but this wasn't something that stayed in the first trimester, but lasted the entire pregnancy.

It seemed like no matter how many hours of sleep she got at night or how many naps she took with Belphie during the day that she was always still so tired and it was very upsetting to the poor woman.

This paired with her hormones made the woman extra sensitive during her pregnancy; the smallest issues would have this poor woman balling about how everything is going wrong in her her life.

Yes, they are sorry you dropped your lemonade and Beely totally feels empathy for you, but your world is not ending and these lovely men will get you another glass, okay?

To make matters worse, it didn't take long at all in her pregnancy for her boyfriends to notice that her belly was growing at a somewhat alarming rate.

Luckily, Diavolo and Barbatos already got her scheduled for her first appointment at the obgyn.

That was the appointment where MC learnt the truth--that she was having triplets.

The poor human sobbed. Triplets.

One baby was a lot of work and stressful enough but three? How were the other men going to react to three babies?

Barb gently shushed her and rubbed her back.

Yes, even he found this news surprising, but believed it ultimately changed nothing; he was going to stand by his sweet pet's side and if the remaining men have anything resembling a spine then they will do the same.

Poor MC was literally shaking when she came home and had to tell the others about the babies.

Lucifer and Mammon were scared shitless, but more devoted to this woman than ever.

Satan and Belphie were internally groaning, but keeping themselves in check.

Asmo and Simeon became anxious, but wasted no time in comforting her and trying to raise her positivity.

Diavolo and Beel were genuinely excited at this news and couldn't keep their hands or lips off of her for a good minute or two, which was good because it brought MC from near tears to a little laughing fit. Those men oozed positivity and to them, her carrying more babies was the best news ever.

Barb and Solomon just smiled comfortingly at their love. Neither was scared or anxious nor were they overly excited. They were merely assured that regardless of how many babies she carried, everything would work out well. It was just like Solomon said the day MC announced her pregnancy: it takes a village to raise a baby and she has quite an impressive village before her.

One thing MC didn't realize when she made this announcement though was that the question of the pregnancy changed, or rather, the form of the question changed from single to multiple choice.

To be more clear, the question changed from "Who is the baby daddy?" To "Who are the baby daddies?"

Every man in the room knew this, but MC did not.

In the Devildom, it is more common for multiples to be the results of from different second parents than all from the same. Like, you can have twin and triplets with the same father, but it is much more rare compared to each baby having a different father

With this news in mind, all of the men worked harder to take care of the sweet, worried human.

Her pregnancy progressed, her belly stretched, her body was in a lot of pain from the growth and extra weight.

Heck, for the last two months, poor MC was mainly on bedrest and carried around when she wanted to changed rooms (she's been carried by all of the guys at least once, but Beel was always the most eager to carry her.

When the day of the birth came, the exhausted and achy woman was both eager for it and dreading it.

She wanted them out and out now, but dear devil, she knew pushing out three babies was gonna take a lot out of her.

The contractions started mid morning, causing Lucifer call Diavolo and the others against her wishes.

The contractions were minor now. She was no where near labor for now so it simply didn't seem right to frighten the non-HoL men into coming over when it will be literal hours just for her to start active labor.

Still, they rushed and the poor woman had even more men hovering her.

She's fine, the babies are fine, now let her watch TV in peace 🤦‍♀️

As a testiment to how fine she was in that moment, she even fell asleep against Diavolo's shoulder as they watched TV together.

However, it obviously didn't stay that way.

As the hours went by and the woman entered active labor, suddenly her tune was much different.

The pain was much harder, the contractions were much more consistent, and poor MC always needed to be gripping onto someone like her life depended on it.

Satan had read in a book that walking can help progress labor so each man took turns walking around the living room with the poor pained woman, stopping whenever she needed to.

Eventually, the pressure below became so severe, but her water still wasn't breaking. It had the labouring woman hysterically crying, refusing to make another step.

The men kept looking at each other, needing someone, anyone in the room to have an idea on how to help MC.

Satan bit his lip before stepping forward.

"I think I know what to do." He stated. "However, I need someone to get a stack of towels and we need to get MC to a bed."

Beel ran off to get the towels while Solomon, who currently had an arm wrapped around MC, scooped her in his arms since she refused to walk.

The group all headed to MC's room.

Soli laid her down gently, but MC gripped onto him tighter, refusing to let go.

The sorcerer whispered sweetly into her ear and kissed her cheek before the woman sniffled and slowly loosened her grip till he could step back from her and be replaced by Satan.

Beel came back just then and the blonde instructed him to lay a few of the towels on the floor by bed.

After that, Satan helped position MC at the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her.

"Okay, Kitten, I'm going to have to break your water--"

"Please!" She begged with every ounce of air in her lungs. "Please!"

With a guilty look in his eyes, the blonde did just that.

MC cried out as she felt her boyfriend slip his hand inside, only for her breath to hitch when she felt the water sack burst and the pressure dissipate.

The woman flung her head back in relief.

"Thank you..." She sobbed.

Despite her relief, poor Satan new from his books that he only helped her towards the most painful part.

MC had a minute or two of feeling okay and was able to catch up on her breathing before the contractions came back worse than before.

Immediately, Diavolo joined her on her left side, grabbing her hand and praising her, telling after months of waiting that it's finally happening.

Lucifer couldn't take it anymore. He joined her on her right and squeezed her hand, promising it will all be fine and they won't let anything happen to her.

Barbatos slips off his gloves and sets them aside before positioning himself between her legs, telling her to push with the contractions and focus breathing between them.

This went on for a while.

Breathe. Push. Breathe. Push. Breathe. Puuuuuush. Breathe.

Eventually, the human was crowning.

More pushing. The head was out revealing bright red hair, but small black spiral horns pointing straight up.

Barbatos raised an eyebrow at this, but the other men were too focused on the pain MC was in to notice what the butler saw as so strange.

After some more pushing, the first baby was pushed out into the butler's waiting arms.

"Solomon."

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow, but stepped forward and took the baby from the other man.

That's when he say it: the baby girl had Diavolo's red hair, Mammon's horns, and Lucifer's dark onyx eyes that reflected red light so well.

This is why they the butler entrusted the baby to him. The other men would only get confused and try asking questions at a point where MC was in no shape to hear them being asked.

Solomon turned away from the other men and grabbed a towel to clean off the newly born infant.

The other men were going to ask him about the newborn, but we're pulled back to their girlfriend by her cries of pain as the second one made its way down.

Honestly, the sorcerer was incredibly fascinated with this turn of events.

He finished cleaning the sweet girl off before kissing her forehead and gently laying her down in one of the cribs in the back of the room.

Meanwhile, the process was repeating though a bit quicker than before. This time, when the second baby crowned and revealed some of the hair on their head, the butler saw two colors.

Half the head filled with white and half the head filled with teal

...the same shade of teal as the ends of his hair.

Barbatos felt his heart beat quicken at this discovery, but he kept focused.

Once this second baby was able to slide out all the way, it was revealed that they also had a tail; a long black tail with a bright green tip.

Something Satan discovered right away.

The wrath demon intercepted the baby before Solomon could.

Instead of arguing this development, the butler simply accepted it.

"Please go clean her off and follow Solomon to the cribs." He said softly.

The blonde walked off with the baby, a confused look on his face.

He grabbed a towel and followed Solomon over to the the cribs.

It made no sense to him. This little girl had his tail yet share features of some of the other men. A mixture of Solomon and Barbatos' hair, Asmo's honey eyes.

What was going on?

Something clicked in his head however when he got a better look at the first baby in the crib, also a mix of three different men.

"A chiropteran conception?" He whispered to the sorcerer.

Soli smirked.

"Ah so you understand too, don't you?"

Satan stared down at his...daughter. well, not just his. Other than MC, he at minimum shared this little girl with the shady sorcerer in front of him, the butler between his girlfriend's legs, and the anxious lust demon in the crowd.

At most? Maybe every man here. They'll have to get these babies tested to see how far their genetic go, to see if it's a full of partial chiropteran conception. Either way, this will be an...interesting experience to say the least.

The blonde cleaned up his daughter and laid her in another crib as MC birthed the last baby, coming much, much quicker than the last two.

By the time the two men rejoined the group, the last baby was already born and in the butler's arms.

With it being the being the last baby and MC's pain being over, this was the first that the others truly focused on--and realized something was off with.

This baby was a little boy. What most of the people in the room found strange about about the child however was mixtures of features.

The dark blue-black hair with orange highlights, purple eyes, angel wings, a slightly dark skin tone and...well, he definitely took after Levi by having double the 'part' between his legs.

"I...what?" MC panted, staring down at her son, who gently cried down within the butler's arms.

Solomon handed Barb a towel, who gratefully took it and began cleaning up and the little boy in his arms.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Solomon smiled at her. "I think all three of them are a beautiful mixture of us all."

MC laid their speechless as the sorcerer headed back towards the cribs, followed by Satan.

The sorcerer brought back the oldest daughter while the blonde brought back up the youngest daughter.

Dia raised his eyebrows.

"A chiropteran conception... fascinating."

While some of the men knew the term, most did not and MC most certainly didn't so the prince took the time to explain it to the group.

It was unclear at this point whether this was a the result of a full chiropteran conception (meaning all three babies carry the genetics of every single man in the room) or a partial chiropteran conception (each baby contains the genetics of the men whose genes they get their looks from). The latter is the most common when this many men are involved, but they will have to get the babies tested just in case.

At this explanation, MC was looking around at her boyfriends, looking for reassurance that everyone was okay with this

And sure enough, each man latched on like usual with sweet words and kisses, praises and reassurances.

In truth, this was a strange twist but no man present truly had an issue with it.

It will take some time to figure out what sort of dynamic the men should of adopt.

Also, Diavolo unfortunately has a lot of royal legal history to dig through to see what the laws say about chiropteran conceptions and heirs.

If this is a full conception than it doesn't really matter too much, but if it's a partial chiropteran conception then he worries his (and MC's and Lucifer's and Mammon's) daughter will be made to feel less than because of how she is biological will be bullied by the nobility. He would like her to be his heir less for the sake of having one but more to give her a social shield against the demonic elite.

The kids (in birth order):

Tatiana- a graceful and elegant but secretly sensitive and vengeful. Touch her siblings and you just might find a knife in your back. Sneaky, but even if she gets caught, she'll get away with it because she's spoiled and family comes first; her Daddies agree 100% 🥰

Selia- a very shy and emotional girl. Magical prodigy with Barbatos' future visions and Asmo's charming powers, two abilities she doesn't particularly even want. She's quiet and delicate, often found hiding behind her family or with her head down.

Milo- hyper, friendly, and troublesome (though never on purpose). This guy works off one superpowered braincell but once it's out of juice, so is he and he sleeps it off on the couch or in his room. He always have a kind word for everyone, but can be a bit naïve. Thinks fictions is perfect substitute for real life lessons and can be kinda slow to learn the true ones.

[neonghostcat]

Brain Overflow

You know how in my last 'state of the author' post I said I could feel the urge to write coming back?

Oh, it has.

It's terribly inconvenient too. I'm going to tell you a little about some of the things I've been thinking of and then whine/wibble a tiny bit if you click through to behind the cut. (You don't have to read the last bit!)

I've written down three different SVSSS (LiuShen) ideas in the last couple of weeks, added a few thoughts to older ideas, made a mental note of possible Cultivate extras, and just refused to write down others so as not to encourage rampant plot bunny breeding.

But let me tell you about a few of them because I'm hoping it reduces the urge to work on them better than just typing up notes.

The Lady Blackbird fusion Not sure what Lady Blackbird is? Well, it's a free tabletop rpg that you can download here. But the TL;DR is, "Sort of like steampunk Star Wars: A New Hope + Firefly + potential Jane Austen novel, if you want." I'll just C&P the pitch here: Lady Blackbird is an Imperial noble fleeing from an arranged marriage to be with her secret lover, the pirate king Uriah Flint. To reunite with him, she has hired a notorious smuggler and the crew of his skyship, The Owl. However, The Owl has been captured by an Imperial cruiser. How will Lady Blackbird and the others escape? What dangers lie in their path on the way to the pirate king’s lair? Can you see where this is going? (Actually, probably not your first thought, no.) We start with Shen Yuan transmigrated in a xianxia-by-way-of-steampunk gown, sitting in a jail cell with several men, a teenage boy, and a veiled teenage girl. System helpfully informs him that he is now "Lady" Blackbird, on the run to end up in the arms of Pirate King Mobei-Jun. His cell-mates are, as follows: Smuggler Captain Liu Qingge, Lady Blackbird's personal bodyguard Liu Mingyan who suggested her brother when LB said she wanted to escape, the ship's mechanic Shang Qinghua, the ship's doctor Mu Qingfang (or they pick him up later, I haven't decided), and "a goblin named BingBing". While SY is busy freaking out that System can't fool him - that's the Protagonist, Luo Binghe!!! wtf!!! System says "later, loser" and more-or-less abandons him (though still employing an OOC ban). So now you can probably see where this is going, lol. It involves at least a brief period where SY has to crossdress and pretend to be one of Binghe's future wives - a fiancée/wife of Mobei-Jun as Liu Qingge gets very conflicted feelings about his troublesome passenger. Featuring lots of Cumplane friendship, sassy MQF (as a treat), teenage smirking (likely aided and abetted by the adults), and space whales (naturally). I have not yet fully decided if the story Shen Yuan read was PIDW and now he has to figure out how the infiltration of "space with gears on it" into his xianxia has fucked up what he and Airplane know, or if the story was something like "Proud Immortal Starlit Way" and it was always like that. (Thoughts?) ---

The "SY Bodysnatches MQF" idea What it says on the tin... SY accidentally ends up in MQF's body instead of SQQ's. Only MQF isn't gone - he remains. This occurs directly before the Demonic Invasion and double qi deviation part of the plot and they rush back to the sect to deal with that. Then things get messy while they conspire to get SY his own body. Featuring: An extremely confused Liu Qingge, eventual Shenbros, and aro-ace MQF being very bemused at all times. ---

The "LQG Gets De-Aged/Age-Regressed" idea As you can guess: LQG gets age-regressed. This happens in Lingxi Caves instead of his death-by-deviation. He latches onto SY-SQQ and SY-SQQ is helpless to do anything but take the cute kid in. Featuring: BingLiu friendship, possibly Bing-other disciples friendship, but mostly establishing bro-code that makes Binghe switch his infatuation with SY-SQQ into family feelings as soon as LQG regains his adult body and it becomes clear that LiuShen is happening. ----

This is along with: Joint Custody (LiuShen), my SJ-SQQ second-chance redemption fic (LiuShen and LiuJiu, but different LQGs), a peak lords ascension fic using Cultivate's backstory (LiuJiu), a LiuShen timeloop fic, and at least another half a dozen fic ideas sitting in the hopper that aren't nearly as developed/that I am not burning to write yet.

I'd love to know which ideas you guys are most interested in. ;) Joint Custody is still next regardless and I'll probably not be working on either of the LiuJiu fics in the near future because they are definitely 100k+ territory and I'm still not ready for that. But knowing people are hype for something keeps me hype. ;3

I'll probably be in this fandom awhile, y'all. Please send help.

Sadly, I can't work on any of them yet, because I have over 2,600 messages in my inbox waiting for me to respond to. (This is not a humble brag - this is thousand-yard-stare territory. It was somewhere over 3000 for awhile until I started making a list of people who generally only left emojis or thanks and let them know that I was going to just thank them for all of them in one email so they didn't peppered by replies in kind.)

Not that I'm complaining about them, because I missed replying to comments so much (it's genuinely one of my favorite parts about writing fanfic), but it's still a lot and even if I could manage 100 replies a day (which for mental health reasons, I really can't), it's going to take awhile.

RIP.

More importantly - I hope you are well! 🌼

[thegreatsolaris]

✨Short TSP Drabble✨

I wanted to write Stanley and Narrators first real interaction so I quickly typed this up. I don’t think I’ll write more of this soon so I wanted to get it out.

I’ll post it to Ao3 eventually but for now

I hope you like this!!

————————————————

Those beautiful blue skies stretched far into the distance.

Stanley used to feel like anything was possible looking out into this world, but as the same script rambled on above him, he couldn’t help but tire of it all. He wanted something new and exciting. That’s all he really needed! Just a good change of pace.

Stanley tried to will his hands to move.

“And Stanley was…”

Stanley pointed towards his nose twisting his hand then flicked his hand away in a lazy manner.

“EXCUSE ME???”

Stanley jumped.

This was the first time the narrator had actually responded to anything he’d done. Of course, the script could fool him sometimes into thinking that someone was actually speaking to him, but when it’s the same every time… it’s hard to believe it’s not a bizarre recording.

This was not a part of the script here? What is this?

Stanley stared at the blue sky wondering if this was all a hallucination. Again.

“Oh? Nothing to say for yourself, you ingrate?” He swore he could almost feel the building around him get tenser. The metal creaked beneath his feet. He desperately tried not to faint.

Stanley hesitantly raised both his hands pointing back and forth between himself and the sky (where he assumed the voice was coming from).

“Yes, I’m talking to You, Stanley,” the voice huffed.

[Stanley couldn’t think of what to say. Thankfully the Narrator was voicing his thoughts for him. Part of him assumed that the voice was a recording at some point. Stanley wondered if he should be freaking out more, but he was just surprised! Why the voice hadn’t spoken to him before? Could he alway do this? Surely he’s done way worse than offhandedly saying he was bored…]

“Irritable, sure, you always are, but you have never voiced any of this directly at me. I’m not the one here guilty of not trying to communicate! You never say anything to me!”

That… is probably true… Stanley shrugged.

“I CANT BELIEVE- Hold on, I-“ some papers shuffled and the voice got a little farther away as a chair rolled, “This conversation isn’t over.”

Stanley furrowed his brow waiting for-

THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE EN

Stanley blinked back to reality to see he was sitting in his office once more.

“Okayyy,” the Narrator’s chair sounded like it rolled back over to him, “Now let’s have a chat. You and I. We’ve been working well together for a long time now, despite your issues… Is there something wrong with my story, Stanley? Is there a reason you’re so bored with my life’s work!? I’ll have you know I’ve been working very hard- WILL YOU LISTEN?!”

Stanley stopped pressing buttons on the keyboard to look up.

“I’m really trying to have a serious conversation with you here, Stanley! Face to face!” The lights flickered briefly.

[ He rolled his eyes at the ceiling all smug, “What face?” Stanley laughed to himself. ]

“You’re very funny, Stanley… Is this about you having a default model or nothing at all when it’s Not. Even. Necessary?” The walls shook slightly in irritation.

[“It wasn’t but it definitely is now.” Stanley mused. It was more intended to poke fun at his Narrator for being so elusive for all these years. It’s hard to take a disembodied voice seriously. Although….. Now that he thinks of it, his hands and body do randomly disappear…]

“You’re bothered by my lack of a face?! Seriously?!” The building made a noise like it was about to cave in, “I don’t need one! I’m not even an actual character in the story! I’m the Narrator! I read the script! As a matter of fact, you don’t even need a body or face! It’s not important! This is a first person game with no other players!”

[ “You asked,” Stanley would cross his arms if he felt like he had any right now, “What kind of a writer can’t even take a little bit of constructive criticism?”]

“Fine! Fine! No, I really see how it is! Sure!”

Stanley waited for more. The Narrator loved to talk after all, but he was scarily quiet.

There was a slight ambient noise when Stanley strained his hearing.

Frantic typing. Mouse clicks. Scratching of pens and pencils on paper. Occasionally a mutter or deep breath from the Narrator.

Stanley stared a the ceiling listening to the sounds of him working. It was odd. And yet… Something felt different. He couldn’t explain it but it did. He felt more… there. More present…

“Are you ready to talk, Stanley?” Narrator sounded like it was right above him. Not like the general sense, but literally right above his head. He had a bad feeling.

Then the walls started creaking loudly. Cracks splintered along the ceiling as bright yellow fingers pushed their way in.

He fell off his chair in shock, trying to get away.

The top of his office was easily pulled away like the lid on a can to reveal a big smiling face in a black void.

Stanley’s first thought was that he looked like a giant mouse cursor.

Greying hair swept to the side with a yellow arrow streaked through his hair twisting up like a smile. His skin looked grey as well. His eyes were almost hidden behind a square pair of yellow tinted glasses. A smile stretched across his face. The phrase “tombstone teeth” sprung the Stanley’s mind. He wore a black suit with a highlighter yellow tie that was currently jabbing him in the chest.

Honestly, he looked like an odd abstraction of an older businessman.

“Is this better for you?” This is the most self assured man Stanley had even seen in his life, “As a skilled writer, director, producer, developer, actor, I could go on, I obviously can take some criticism.”

Stanley was pretty sure he had a 50/50 shot of getting killed if he criticized anything right now.

“Obviously, you seem to have… critiques,” Narrator ground his teeth and the arrow in his hair spiked downwards, “Perhaps, it’s time I get back to work… In the meantime, you can do what you like. I’ll take and comments into… consideration…”

Stanley stared at the arrow stabbing into his chest. It didn’t go away. His body felt more permanent.

He smiled up at his bizarre new companion. Well, not new per say but…

Stanley pointed at the abstract man with a smile then cupped his ear.

“I- uh“ he stuttered while turning pink. His tie pulled back to wrap around the Narrator, “Of course I was listening to you, Stanley. I want you to like my game. Besides, it only makes sense to have a proper model for my main character!”

[Stanley could get used to the company. He could feel the smile on his face, “Especially with company as cute as this.”]

“AH! THATS IT!”

The Narrator covered his face, “I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk to me! I’m working! I can’t see you!” He pulled up a stack of papers from somewhere (?) and started to write.

Stanley sat back in his chair.

What a nice change of pace.

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 19 - An Evening I Will Not Forget

📜So... remember when I said things were getting better with the sad parts? I lied... Oh boy, did I ever lie... 😬

Fair warning: this one is grief-heavy... but it's been a long time coming for Liz.

(I also want to say, next to Sapling, this is the other song I hope you listen to. These last two parts have been at the centre of why this story means so much to me. I hope you do 💛)

❗+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, original child character, Emotional & Protective Sadie (She needs her own warning), Liz finally caves, conversations about grief, Sadie caves too, and strikes again, Crying, Angst, Thunderstorms, Smutty themes (with a Camera 👀), and Just in Case letters.

#6.6k words

Part 18 | Masterlist | Part 20

They say grief comes in five stages.

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

Ridley always talked to you about it. All the vicarious trauma sessions she had to attend as a nurse. 'It's just something you have to deal with when you are a nurse. Or even in life," she'd say.

The thing about these stages is that everyone assumed they were something you would experience in order, each stage just as intense as the last. Or that you would feel all of them. It was just a matter of time.

You always thought it was a bald-faced lie.

You didn't know what was worse, the fact you spent the better half of an almost year shoving that grief down into the deepest parts of your soul or that it only took one week after Jake left and a freaking thunderstorm, to finally make you surrender.

It was the first rumble of thunder you heard, standing alone in your kitchen, that started eating away at your stomach. It planted a seed, which grew like vines wrapping around your heart. And whatever the feeling was suddenly flooding your entire body like water, you could only describe it as a sudden white pain.

You tried to bury it again, grabbing another plate leftover from dinner and letting water run over it as you shuttered out another breath. But the next rumble of thunder was accompanied by pelting rain on your windows, and you let the plate slip from your fingers under the water, only to grip the edges of your sink hard.

The white pain you felt only a few seconds earlier had intensified. A sharp inhale, and your chest tightened.

Not now. Why now.

You didn't realize tears had started to stream down your face. As if your body had a mind of its own and proclaimed the most recent danger had passed, so enough was enough - time to deal with what you've been putting off; it's as good of a time as any.

The flash of lightning should have been your warning for what was to follow. Because the second the bolt of lightning disappeared outside your window, the power flickered, and the entire house plunged into darkness.

It was the permission your body needed for your knees to give out. For you to crumple to the floor hard. You wanted to cry at the impact, yet only an aching sob escaped your lips; you curling your fingers into the groves along the tile of your kitchen floor, pulling yourself closer and closer to the handle of your fridge. You grabbed it, using what strength you had to pull yourself up to sit against the cool metal.

You had sung as a blue healer for feelings of deep blue when Sadie was in the hospital, Jake assuring you there was no deadline, no time frame of when you could finally accept she was gone. But the problem was, you didn't want to accept she was. Because wishing, thinking she was still there, was holding on to some semblance of her memory.

If thinking she was still here, still a phone call away, it wouldn't make it real. That you wouldn't have to let Sadie down. That Ridley still could be your armour, then.

You wanted her here. You wanted her to talk to you, to hug you and let you know things would be alright. That Jake and Bradley, would come home, despite everything they had to do in order to keep the world safe.

But she wasn't here. And then Jake apologized. Not with flowers but with something corporeal. Something real. And they had remained on your neck since he had placed them there.

They were a saving grace for the first few days, for you could grab them whenever things got too hard to handle. Yet, now, as you went for them hanging around your neck, buried under your shirt, the chain and tags were a suppressing weight, even a vice, tightening around your neck.

Because Damn Those Dog Tags he had left behind - they signified that the man you loved might also become a memory too. Just like your sister in everything she had left behind.

You yanked them from your neck with a harsh cry, flinging them hard. They flew across the room, metal shining against another flash of lightning, hitting the wall with a clatter. The metallic sound echoes the hollowness in your heart, and you bowed your head between your legs, hands hugging your legs tight.

Anger.

It had only shown itself once before. Yet, yelling at George and being crass towards Jake, you knew it wouldn't solve anything, except for the fact something deep inside was waiting for the chance it could pounce on the next best thing. It wasn't what you were truly angry at.

Because you had spent the better part of now and between then repressing what you didn't want to face. Ridley's absence was something you couldn't focus on; Sadie needed the strength to believe everything would be okay.

Ridley had done the same for you. When you had left, when you had run away from home. The days and months you spent shoving every dark thought or memory of her... you should have been calling it for what it was.

 Depression and Denial went hand in hand.

And yet, still, the angel of death was ruthless.

It had taken Ridley from you. It tried to take Sadie. Jake and Bradley could be next.

What more could it possibly want to take from you next?

Sadie poked her head out from behind the wall to the hallway, finding you huddled up against the fridge in the kitchen, your head in your hands. She watched from her hiding place how your body shook with each sob, how you tried to make your body smaller than it was.

She had been on her way to you, flashlight in hand and scared of the storm when she heard you scream. It had made her quicken her pace, only to stop when her flashlight caught something shiny in its beam flying across the hallway, hitting the wall in a dull metallic sound.

She widened her eyes. This was the moment she had been waiting for. The one she had been expecting, yet never came.

She knew what she had to do.

Turning on her heel, she made her way into your bedroom, immediately going for your closet. She tore the door open, a flash of lightning illuminating the room from the window behind her. She shuttered, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

Everything was screaming at her that something was staring at her from your bedroom window, the trees casting dark shadows onto your wall as they swayed in the wind and rain.

She closed her eyes, allowing a fresh wave of tears to fall down her cheeks.

She knew she had to preserve. Dropping her flashlight to the ground as she kneeled, Sadie flung your sweaters and cardigans over her shoulder before finally finding the box she wanted, shoved into the bottom corner. She picked it up, not bothering to close your closet door shut as she placed the flashlight on top and rushed out into the hallway. She stopped momentarily to find the object you had thrown across the room.

She knew what they were the second she found them, picking them up and cradling the metal pieces close to her chest. She didn't want to admit she regretted her last words to him, even if he needed to hear them. She regretted them herself, knowing she should have taken her own advice.

She approached you quietly, you not lifting your head once. She kneeled in front of you, placing the box behind her so you wouldn't see it immediately. Biting her lip, she wiped at either side of her face before placing her hand upon your knee.

"You caved."

Your eyes shot up, Sadie's face littered with silent tears. She had been crying, too. And outstretched in her hand, Jake's dog tags in the palm of her small hand, ball chain wrapped around her tiny fingers.

You swallowed, finally croaking out, "I should have when I brought you home."

She let them drop by the chain, grabbing it with both hands to place them back around your neck, biting her lip harder in concentration. There was only one place these belonged.

"We made a promise, Aunt Liz. We just forgot to see it through."

You sobbed at her words, hugging yourself tight when she leaned back, your nails biting into your skin through your shirt.

You were the furthest thing from perfect, the words so perfectly said first by Jake standing on your front porch. Yet, you wondered if you were letting her down by allowing yourself to voice the words you'd never wanted her to hear.

"I miss her, Bug," you cried out, wiping your cheek. "I miss her so much."

Every instance of trying to gather your resolve not to break in front of Sadie fails you. Not the pain of your fingernails gripping your forearm or shielding your face with the sides of your hair, knowing it was a miserable, shameful last attempt to hide yourself from her.

Each gasping breath you pull from your chest is accompanied by a sob and another wave of fresh tears. Yet, Sadie tucks those strains of hair behind your ears and wipes your face with her tiny thumbs, titling your head up so she can surge forward and burying herself in your neck, hoping her hug showed how much she loved you. How much she appreciated you letting her know you weren't okay and that you were no longer afraid of hiding it.

That it was okay to be vulnerable, even now, in front of her.

When Sadie finally let you go, leaning back to sit down between your legs, she stretched her hand behind her to grab something. The red tape was a giveaway, and you pressed Jake's tags to your forehead in protest for the things you didn't want to discover in the shoebox.

You knew exactly what was in there. You couldn't stand looking at pictures of her, talking about her, or looking at the things that reminded you of her. Books were meant to be read cover to cover, but you couldn't finish fucking Pride and Prejudice for the life of you, stuck forever reading the last page twice.

And as if Ridley naming you after her favourite character in her favourite book would somehow empower you. Elizabeth Bennett got through all that life had to offer - so would you. You didn't even realize, at some point after you started seeing Jake, you had stopped listening to music, too.

Ridley used music to help you get through the bad parts. When she would cover your ears to hide shouts in an empty home like everything was okay. She'd tell you music soothes the soul, but as you did to Sadie, you soon discovered it was for the moments where your parents thought swear words were better to express the thoughts and feelings ordinary words couldn't.

In the aftermath, she'd tell you late at night, huddled in your bed, to look out the window and fixate on the brightest star. To wish upon it and ask for a time when music wasn't needed to fill what silence should. But each time she asked you to, she'd say people also wish upon that star too, and it was doing what it could, but so many other people needed its help along with you.

The two of you needed to help it where you could.

Bad parts had to be a part of your story, too.

Then she was gone.

It's why you hid the box in your closet for so long, shoved up on the top shelf, never to see the light of day.

You were there for some of it when Ridley came up with the idea. She was a brilliant mom but also the type to prepare for anything and everything. The night Sadie turned five, she found the damn thing and spent hours stretching that stupid red tape across the beaten material, hoping it would be enough to withstand time.

You just never knew what she had added to it over time.

Sadie was asking, forcing you to confront what you couldn't do yourself. Because in that shoebox, labelled across the top...

Everything I never want you to forget

"We need to open it, Aunt Liz," she said softly with a sniffle, looking down at the box between her hands.

You didn't want to.

Sliding her knees out from under her, Sadie sat on the floor, still holding onto the shoebox. She turned her back to face you, wiggling herself in between your open legs to sit up against your front, pinning you against the fridge. She placed the box in her lap, tilting her head back against your shoulder to peer at your face.

"I'm not getting up until we go through this box."

"Sadie.."

"Mum would want me to do this with you."

Which roughly translated to, because you won't do it otherwise. Not unless I make you.

Ridley's last words, contained in an ordinary shoebox, as if that's all her life amounted to because an idiotic man with an ego complex proclaimed to love her when he didn't. One man who couldn't care less than the ego he carried around his back gave you one of the greatest loves of your life.

And the only regret.

Bargaining.

Then again, Sadie ever would have come to live with you. The Daggers might not have been your friends. Jake would have never been invited to a Saturday night. You would never have fallen in love with him.

Those were the what-ifs you had to contend with. Maybe you silently did believe in regrets after all.

Sadie grabbed your wrist, wrapping your arm around her stomach so you'd hold her. She grabbed your other, placing your hand down upon the top of the box. You let your fingers rest on the lid, drawing out a shakey breath.

Once Sadie was sure you weren't going to lift your hand off the box, she let it go, moving to grab the other side of it. She took a deep breath, squeezing your wrist once before tucking her fingers under the lid to open it. You'd be lying if you didn't say you held her a little closer as you caught the lid, as its contents came into view.

You didn't know where to look first; your hand in no rush to move from where you had left it on the floor. There were a lot of polaroids, knick-knacks from adventures, and jean jacket patches you had never seen before. There was even a Bowie CD, and despite your weariness, you couldn’t find the will to stop the corners of your mouth from curling upwards.

Sadie, however, picked up the first item she set her eyes on.

"What's this from?" She asked, holding up a key. You placed your hand behind hers, using your thumb to stroke the metal base.

"Ah," you sniffed. "That was the key to our first apartment. Remember how we told you your mom and I ran away from home?"

Sadie nodded, still looking down at the piece of metal. "You guys weren't safe."

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "We weren't. Your mom had been saving up money, and I was trying to save up for school. And we had some money saved from your grandmother. It was a tiny place, but that was the first time we finally felt like we could breathe. She went to nursing school soon after that."

You failed to mention you put your dreams on hold so your sister could have hers, especially after what she did to get the two of you out of there. You would do it all over again if you could.

Sadie carefully placed the key back into the box, unphased by the crack of thunder over the house, deciding to grab at the handful of Polaroids next, scattering them in her lap.

While she started looking through the pictures, you fixed your eyes on the white envelopes shoved tight in the back of the box, their colour the only thing standing out with the next flash of lightning. You knew they were letters, with different things written across the front. You reached for them, hands fumbling with the thickness as you took in the names and titles written across each one.

Two caught your attention, making you whimper as the realization of their significance came twofold.

They read...

(My darling Lizzie) - To him.

And...

(My Sadie Bug) - To your Uncle

You slid them under your leg, knowing that there might be a day when Jake would sit down in private, with or without you or Sadie, to read the words and introduction your sister wrote him if he so chose.

If he made it back, the thought forbidden in your head.

There was also another pair - one for you and one for Sadie.

Hers had been first when you picked them up, and she reached out with her hand, dropping the photo she had been holding in her lap when she noticed the writing. Her small fingers trailed over the words "My Bug" written across the front. You pressed a kiss to the back of her head, letting her take it from you.

"If you want to read it alone or with me, that's up to you."

Sadie didn't do anything else but nod, pulling the thick piece of paper close to her chest and dropping her chin to hug it tight.

The power had long since returned after the storm had passed, but neither you nor Sadie could pick yourselves up off the kitchen floor. Not until the last photo, item, object, or memory Ridley had left in that shoe box had been touched. Not until Sadie asked all her questions about what each meant or where some of the photographs had been taken... till you explained memories associated with them.

Even then, when Sadie returned the last Polaroid and placed the lid back on top, she remained curled up in your arms, head against your chest, with her fingers caught in the ball chain of Jake's dog tags around your neck.

You had finally opened the box. Went through its contents. And yet...

"I don't know what we should do now," you told her, rubbing at your face, your head throbbing.

Sadie shifted slightly in your hold, hands holding one of Jake's tags.

"Maybe we could watch a movie?" she suggested quietly. The next words out of your mouth surprised you slightly.

"Maybe Pride and Prejudice... if that is okay?"

---

You had no idea where the sudden urge to go on this trip came from. But waking up with Sadie in your arms on the couch the morning after the two of you went through Ridley's box, you couldn't fight it.

Nat was more than ready the second you called her up, asking if she wanted to accompany you and Sadie on a road trip for the long weekend. She originally thought it was a girl's weekend, which you wouldn't have minded had it not been for your destination.

"I'll pack my bag," she said, no questions asked.

Sadie and Nat were still asleep when you left the hotel room, leaving a note on your bed you'd be back soon. It was still dark out, the sun just barely on the cusp of threatening to show itself when you climbed into your car and drove off.

Sadie had made you promise the both of you would visit Ridley. It was the whole purpose of your trip. To bring flowers, say hi, and so Sadie and you could tell her how much you both loved her. You were going too - there was no question.

But you needed to do this for yourself first.

You pulled off the main road onto the familiar dirt one, driving down the path until you reached the makeshift parking lot, all stone and roughed-up dirt. You were completely alone, save for two cars parked on either end.

You still had ways to go to reach your destination.

Before climbing out of your car, you reached into the back seat and pulled out Ridley's Jean Jacket. You put it on, bundling the lapels tight together across your chest in some blind attempt to shield yourself from the morning chill before you start your hike.

She preferred it this way, anyway.

You spent a good twenty minutes walking over muddy patches and rocky terrain, battling rogue tree roots in the lack of sunlight. There was another route you could have taken, perhaps the easier one, but you had trekked this trail with Ridley so many times before. It was only fair you kept up the tradition.

But then the trees began to thin out, the sound of chirping birds grew louder, and you could smell just a hint of wildflowers with each intake of breath.

You emerged from the woods, looking up from the ground to take in the sight before you. The meadow had remained untouched since you were here last. The grass was overgrown, each dew-kissed blade a product of the low-hanging mist just above the ground. There were flowers in full bloom, and even this early in the morning, with the morning sky painting shades of purple twilight, you could still make out dragonflies passing by.

And there, right in the middle of it all, the perfectly sculpted piece of grey marble. The only human-made thing that seemed to grace this meadow.

As you stepped forward, the grass caressed your legs and dampened your jeans. The closer you got, the more the engraving stood out, the letters making your heartache.

In loving Memory

Trailing your fingers across the headstone, you wiped away the dust that had gathered there since you buried her here last year. The dew from the early morning fog stained your fingers brown as you did so, but you couldn't care less. She was alone out here, peacefully at rest in this meadow.

You could handle a little dirt on your fingers.

You cleared away the dried leaves and twigs, smoothing the grass down before settling yourself onto the damp earth, your back meeting the hard stone. You listened to the birds, the crickets and the wind, taking in the utter silence before you finally spoke out loud.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, Rids."

You tilted your head back until it came to rest against the stone, closing your eyes. "I miss you. So much. Every day, every moment, every breath. Because it feels like everything I do reminds me I'm living without you."

Now that you were here, the words were coming easy. Easier than any conversation you have ever had in your life.

"I can't even admit I cannot remember the last thing we spoke about over the phone," You sniffed. "I've gone almost a whole year trying to forget you had died, and I cannot remember the last fucking thing I said to you."

With your eyes still closed, you felt the first breath of warmth touch your cheek, and a soft orange appeared behind your eyelids.

"I guess I should start with the most important thing." You said, finally opening your eyes. "The bug is... Better than me."

It was so true. Sadie had done so much better than you could have ever hoped when you brought her home.

"Everyone says she is so wise for her age," you huffed out a sad laugh. "But we would see it differently, wouldn't we? After everything we endured, after everything she has had to endure... she didn't have a choice but to grow up and handle the things being thrown at her."

You brought your knees up to your chest, hugging them tight.

"Oh, I met someone," you laughed sadly, knowing she'd want to know, just like she always did when you called. "He's an aviator. He walked right up to me at the bar and tried to get me into his bed."

Despite your sadness, you managed a small smile at the memory.

"I Bowied him," you chuckled. "The good old wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, you told me to do. I always thought it was a cheesy thing to do when you came up with it, but it's never once failed me. We always loved listening to Suffragette City."

You picked a strain of grass out of the ground, wrapping it between your fingers as you continued.

"The squad told me so much about him before I met him. He was the one responsible for all of Penny's bartenders quitting. I mean, his call sign is Hangman, for god's sake. And Bradley hounded me, thinking I would fall for his trap."

But you did.

You wondered how the two of them were managing wherever they were.

"Then Sadie saw him. Oh god. He helped her with her math homework, and she invited him over, and he brought flowers as an apology. Yellow fucking tulips."

You could almost hear her shout Score for Jake in the back of your mind.

"I gave him a clean slate. Because you always taught me everyone deserves a chance. Because Sadie reminded me of that. And then things just fell into place."

Reaching beneath your shirt, you grasped for the chain, pulling out the dog tags to look at them as you spoke.

"You'd absolutely hate him," you laughed, playing with the rubber casing around one of them, Jake's name always in sight. "He's.. He's so stubborn. Arrogant. Cocky. You would go so far as to say he is a downright asshole who doesn't deserve me."

Jake was all of those things. But he was more, too.

"But he makes me smile, Rids. And Sadie. Oh god, she adores him to no end. I wouldn't have taken a chance on him hadn't it been for her. Our little matchmaker, as if she didn't think I caught on to what she was doing. I think the feeling is mutual, though. He puts her first in so many ways."

You weren't going to utter that asshole's name over her grave by explaining Jake's heroics. This was her peace, and he didn't need to taint it any more than he already had.

"He's a... a Mr. Darcy," you struggled to say, knowing that's exactly what she would have called him.

Reaching into the chest pocket of her jean jacket, you pulled out the envelope with your name on it, bringing it down to hold it in your lap. Both of your hands frame the words written across the front.

Just in case

Your fingers shook as you flipped it over and broke the seal, breath leaving your lips in short bursts. Something possessed you, making you reach in and tug on the pieces of paper folded up inside. Unlike her box, there were no polaroids inside, just the pages with her fancy cursive writing neatly penned to the page.

Once you hesitantly unfolded the pages and read those first words, you couldn't find the will to stop.

Lizzie, you absolute fucking wreck.

How long did it take you to get the courage to read this goddamn letter?

Stop looking so miserable. I swear if I'm looking down on you and you're doing that thing with your face where you're about to cry but won't let yourself, I'll haunt you forever.

That's a lie. I probably already am if I could. If you see sunlight blinding you in the face, say hi. That's probably me.

I know, with 100 percent certainty, it's been a while since I've been gone. How long? I have no idea, but you better not be old and grey, sitting on my grave, finally abandoning your belief about regrets - mostly because this letter wouldn't make one lick of sense.

Besides your inability to grieve properly, I know how hard it's been for you to work up the courage to read this letter. I'm proud of you for taking that leap. You don't need to hear this because there is nothing for you to apologize for, but I forgive you. I know, deep down, the reason you didn't.

It's the thought and facing the reality that you won't see me again, right? Not in this life, maybe not ever, I don't know. And these are supposed to be my 'last words' to you. I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. I might have talked a big game about facing your feelings and trying to be calm when trouble comes around, but let's face it: I've been a mother twice over. I think I'm better at hiding the fact that I'm scared, too.

I wish I would have told you that more. I wish I would have let my walls down enough so that you could have helped me too.

But you need to know that as I'm sitting here at my desk, writing this thing, I'm safe in the knowledge that our bug is with the best person I could have ever hoped for as her guardian. And no words could describe just how much that means to me.

Teach her all the good stuff. Not how to mix a cocktail, I swear to god, we don't need Sadie Sass 2.0 in College or University - I doubt you want to live that experience, and I surely didn't. But how you verbally smack every cocky-ass male that tries to take his shot with her, and how you care for everyone, stand up for everyone. Though chances are, we all probably got that particular talent from her, not the other way around. Who knows... You might be reading this, having had one of those cocksure pilots breaking through your brick wall.

... did one of them manage to break through? You better be sitting on my grave telling me all the details. I don't care if I'm dead (I'm morbid... and practical about death, dealt with it).

And even if you haven't, that's okay too. One day, you'll discover someone better than the heroes you read in books, the ones who seem perfect, without a single flaw. They'll be better because this person will have flaws - Love despite, remember?

Also, whoever they are, kick their ass for me a few times for good measure.

I know that right now, you're feeling lost and wondering how you'll ever get through this, how you've managed to get through all this so far.

But you did. You have so far. And you still will.

You have to accept that things do eventually end, despite not wanting them to. And we have to go on without them. A memory is no longer beautiful just because it suddenly has an end.

You need to accept that sometimes you need to cave and break down to break through. You need to heal.

And to understand grief is the price we pay for those we love. I know you're hurting and refusing to acknowledge that you may never hear my voice again or know what I'd have to say or what advice I'd have to give.

The truth is, you do.

You can still hear my words in your head. You always knew what I was going to say before I said it; I doubt death would change any of that. And you still get to see my face. Nobody can take that from you, especially in all the photographs I've left behind.

Please tell me you went through the box. Or Sadie at least made you go through it. Not just grab all the letters. That wasn't the point of me making it.

I want you to remember those memories so you know I am there when you are sad or miss me. And for Sadie, when she feels like she can't remember what I looked like or what was.

Promise me you will add to it. Take photographs with my Polaroid camera and make scrapbooks and memory boxes. Create memories with Sadie so she can look back and say, "I know she would be proud of me too."

And I am. So much so.

You also need to understand you're not alone.

You have a found family in those stupid pilots you call friends (They're not stupid; they're just a group of idiots). They can help you. Please let them. Please let them in, whether it's helping Sadie with her homework or spending time together. Let them remind you it's okay to live for yourself, too.

Yes, take care of our Bug; that trumps everything else. And never forget how much I love you. Always.

But, remember, even above all that, everyone deserves a chance.

Even you.

My darling, beautiful sister.

The sob that broke free as you read her final words was gut-wrenching. It was also cathartic, laced with relief and heartbreak.

In your time reading her letter, you failed to notice the meadow come to life around you. The shift had been gradual. With each word you had read, the sun had peaked just that much more over the horizon, changing the sky from a darkened purple hue to a much lighter one, with light orange-red undertones in a mist that just rested above the grass.

You had seen none of it.

Because your knees had been a poor excuse for support, and you dropped your forehead down to them to curl inward on yourself. You toppled to your side amongst the short grass, the strands barely fitting in your grasp as your tears fell down your face and into the dirt.

By opening that letter and reading what was meant to be her last words to you, you eventually came to the realization there was no way you could have ever protected yourself from all the painful experiences you've been through.

Maybe this feeling was supposed to be forgiving yourself for the blame you've sheltered for so long. To you, it was something different.

Maybe, just maybe, this was something very close to being acceptance.

---

You felt guilty thinking on the drive home. You had felt better than the last time you drove home from Sacramento. The feeling had lasted, even for days after you dropped Nat back home and tried to go on with your life, trying not to worry about what Jake and Bradley were doing.

Or if you'd ever seen them again. You counted down each day as a blessing and a curse. You knew what you were getting yourself into the moment you decided to befriend the entire squad or when you agreed to date Jake.

It still hurt each time they were called up.

But the grief wasn't as much of a burden now as it was a silent companion. You knew it would always be there when you saw her face in the pictures she left or when Sadie would smile. Or when something new would remind you of her.

You had accepted living with it, dealing with it. And knowing it would eventually come back for something else multiple times later on in your life.

It's probably why this morning you felt slightly different. The sense of relief had not waivered, but you couldn't deny something had shifted. Maybe it was the fact you left the window open last night to listen to a far-off storm, the smell of petrichor filling your room as you woke up in the early hours of the morning.

Or maybe it was the way you stretched amongst your covers, relishing in the coolness of your sheets and the softness of your pillow. Or how you sat up, pausing for a second to watch the specks of dust float through the early morning sunbeams slipping through your curtains. You lifted your hand, inspecting how your fingers cut through the warm rays and cast shadows onto your floor.

You smiled in contentment.

Making your way to your bathroom, the hot water was welcoming as you stepped into your shower. You spent a few minutes there, waking up under the pressure on your skin, before stepping out and drying off, reaching for your silk robe from off the back of the door.

But walking back to your room, you caught your reflection in your mirror from the doorway, suddenly entranced. You found yourself gravitating towards it, slowly stepping forward until you stood right in front of it.

Smoothing down the slides of the fabric of your robe, you played with the lacey hem. Till you reached up to tuck a few wet strands of hair behind your ear, and found your fingers hooking underneath the chain around your neck, sliding down until Jake's tags slid out from their hiding place.

You bit your lip, rocking back and forth while contemplating, when Sadie's Polaroid camera stood out in the background of your reflection. She had placed it in your bag for the trip home, and you had yet to return it to her after you unpacked, leaving it atop your dresser.

You turned slowly, eyeing the camera for a few seconds before walking over to your dresser. You picked it up, holding it in your hands for a few seconds before looking over to your bed and then back to your dresser.

Why you suddenly felt possessed to do this, you had no idea.

Inspecting the dial on the top, you weren't in control as you watched your hand reach out to turn it clockwise, one click at a time. You were surprisingly calm as you placed it back down on your dresser, parallel to your bed, and pressed the button on the other side, starting a quiet, ticking countdown from the tiny camera.

Climbing back into your bed, you faced the camera, undoing the small strings on your robe, letting the sides fall just enough to reveal the inside curves of your breasts and the top half of your stomach. And there, right in the middle, Jake's dog tags hanging between.

It felt awkward, forbidden even, to lean back so exposed, so open. With the old-fashioned lens sitting on your dresser, the dial clicking down as you positioned yourself on your mattress, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

It was Sadie's Camera, for god's sake.

You heard the shutter go off, the mechanical whirling of the piece of photo paper running through the tiny printer, and fluttering as it landed on your bedroom floor.

You opened your eyes, jolting up like you had been splashed with cold water, shocked you had even done such a thing.

Yet, you still slid out from the covers, eyeing the photo from where it landed, slowly walking over. You carefully picked it up, watching as the image faded into view.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You pressed the printout to your chest, staring up at your open door, wondering if Sadie had woken up yet. With the printout in hand, you practically ran into your office, shutting the door behind you and throwing yourself into your chair. Reaching for your bottom drawer, you pulled out a thick envelope and lined pieces of paper, scrambling for one of the pens on your desk.

You hadn't written a letter since the last time Jake had been on a deployment. Back then, you had struggled to find the words to say to him. You didn't have a problem this time. As soon as black ink hit the page, you couldn't stop writing down every thought and feeling as fast as you could.

When you were finally finished, you threw yourself back into the chair, sighing once before looking down at the pieces of paper. You grabbed them, folding the pieces in half and shoving them into the envelope, sliding the single polaroid behind them. You hadn't sealed it yet, but you did close it, writing along the back, hoping Jake would appreciate and understand the message.

Sadie's bedroom door opening and closing could be heard through the wall, and a smile stretched across your face as an idea popped into your head.

"Hey, Bug! I'm sending Uncle Jake a letter. Got any polaroids you want to send?!"

Tag List:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @dakotakazansky

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook @taestrwbrry

-Wickett ;)

Part 20 - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) Coming Soon

[kata-sans]

Raising Stripe

Chapter 24

Craig was dead on his feet. Work had been especially tiresome that day due to insufferable customers with faulty cars. Everyone in town needed last minute checkups before hitting the road for Thanksgiving holiday. He was glad to have a long break from work.

After a long day at work, Craig was ready to call it a night but his phone began to ring. He didn't even bother to check the ID on his screen before answering, “Hello…Mom!...Sorry, I didn't mean to not call you. I've been crazy busy a-and…No I don't mean I'm too busy for you I just…Thanksgiving dinner?...Sh**! It completely slipped my mind… No we don't have other plans but… Mom no don't say that of course Tweek and I still care about you…Fine we'll be in Denver tomorrow…Love you too. Bye”

Craig groaned loudly into his pillow. His mom always had a way of making him cave into her requests. He heard his husband snickering by the bedroom door. He threw his pillow in his direction which Tweek easily sidestepped.

“Was that your mom on the phone?” Tweek asked full of mirth as he made his way to his side of the bed.

“We forgot about Thanksgiving plans with my family.” Craig stated with annoyance.

Tweek froze, “What! Craig, how did this happen! Your parents are going to think we don't care about them! GAH! We need to start packing. Good thing we restocked the diapers but we might need extra formula.”

Craig suddenly sat up straight with a shocked look. “Babe! I just realized, my parents don't know about Stripe!”

They stared at each other in silent horror. Needless to say, this Thanksgiving was going to be memorable in the Tucker household.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laura Tucker was placing the final touches on her famous turkey marinade when she heard the sound of a car in the driveway. She quickly made it to door and saw her son and son-in-law climbing out of their car. Craig noticed her and had a guilty expression on his face.

“Hey Mom. I have a surprise for you. Please don't freak out.” Craig said as he moved to open the backseat.

Laura almost fell down in shock when she saw her son pull out a baby car seat from the car. She let out a shriek of excitement, “Craigory Tucker! Why didn't you tell me! Oh! THOMAS! Come here!”

Craig's father came rushing out at the sound of Laura's shouts. Thomas was surprised when he noticed his wife hovering over the baby carrier in Craig's hands. He joined his wife and clapped his son on the back in congratulations before suggesting moving indoors.

Inside the house, Laura had quickly taken the baby into her arms before confronting the couple about their surprise. “Craig, you brat! Why didn't you tell me about my grandbaby? What's his name? Are you fostering or did you adopt him?”

Craig cleared his throat, “Well umm, it's a funny story. You see, this is Stripe…”

Laura gasped, “You named him after your Guinea Pig!”

“No! The baby is our guinea pig. There was an accident and our friend Kenny turned him into a human baby.” Tweek explained.

Laura and Thomas were shocked. They could hardly believe the baby in Laura's arms used to be a guinea pig. He looked and acted just like a real baby. They spent an hour asking questions about Stripe and soon became comfortable with the situation. Regardless of the circumstances, they were going to enjoy the experience of having a cute baby in the family to dote on.

"Well regardless of how he came to be... Nana has something special in her attic for you." Laura said switching to baby talk when she addressed Stripe.

Laura immediately led the family into the attic. She instructed the men to move furniture and boxes until she found what she was looking for. Finally they found what she insisted on finding and together they pulled out into the living room three boxes labeled “Craig's Baby Stuff.”

Tweek was excited to see the momentos from Craig's childhood. Craig on the other hand was curious but embarrassed by the idea of Tweek rummaging through his baby items. The first box was full of baby clothes. Tweek gushed when he pulled out a tiny set of yellow rain boots. Laura pulled out the matching raincoat and pointed to a photo album in the box. Before Craig could grab the book to hide it, Tweek snatched it and began flipping through the pages.

“Aww. Craig you were adorable. Is this a picture of the raincoat?” Tweek asked as he pointed to the picture in the book.

“Yes, it was a gift from his grandma. He would always insist on going out in the rain just to wear it.” Laura said with a laugh.

Tweek continued to flip through the book until he found a picture of Craig standing next to a Winnie the Pooh mascot. He smirked and showed the image to Craig. “Look what I found.”

Craig frowned, “Burn it!”

Laura rolled her eyes, “Are you still holding a grudge against Winnie the Pooh? Craig that was years ago.”

Tweek perked up, “Is there really a reason he hates that bear?”

“Oh Craig used to love Winnie the Pooh.” She pulled out some toys with the cartoon bear. Stripe immediately reached out to grab the toys and Laura handed them over. “Craig would beg me to buy these for him. You can imagine how excited he was when we went to Disneyland and he met his idol in real life.” Laura laughed as she held up the picture.

“Anyways when Craig was four, we went on a trip to the zoo. Craig was eager to visit the bear exhibit because one of them was named Winnie. When we made it to the bear cave the poor thing was dead asleep. Craig really wanted to see Winnie and he began to shout and tap the glass. The bear was so mad, he charged towards Craig and scared him.” Everyone bursted into laughter while Craig turned red in embarrassment.

“Bears are stupid! That's all!” Craig tried to defend himself from his family's ridicule.

“Oh Craig it's okay to admit bears scare you.” Tweek said as he calmed down.

“I am not scared of a dumb cartoon bear!” Craig said petulantly.

Tweek kissed his cheek, “Sure, babe. Whatever you say.”

Thomas suddenly came into the room with a dusty trash bag. “I found it Laura!”

Laura jumped up with the baby in her arms. “Wonderful Thomas! Pull it out to see if it's still in one piece.”

Thomas nodded and pulled out a flat baby walker from the large black bag. He pulled it open and set it on the floor. Laura was pleased to see the bag had kept it clean and proceeded to place Stripe in the seat.

Stripe inspected his new chair. He noticed a tray full of toys in front of him and eagerly began to fiddle with each one. He had a rolling toy, a squeaky button, and a loop d’loop toy. Stripe was enthralled and began to kick his feet in joy. He ran his fingers through toy enjoying the cacophony of noise each one caused.

Tweek pulled out his phone and began to take pictures of Stripe in his new toy. Laura followed suit quickly snapping pictures of her grandbaby. She grabbed Craig's baby album and turned to a picture of Craig sitting in the exact same walker as an infant. Tweek and Laura compared Craig and Stripes' pictures laughing at how similar they appeared to be. The family enjoyed their time before preparing for dinner.

Ch23

Ch25