#here's something from the drabble vault

[sisterdivinium]

It isn't guilt, though it should be when she lies upon the shards and splinters of her broken word, letting them cut into her bare skin. It's a fear, sharp and hot as the fingers trailing down her body, as the unending kisses that alone cover her from the cold night — fear of reckoning, a jealous god's vengeance.

Suzanne's last sin had cost enough, yet she relapsed. She moaned, softly — unrepentant. This woman adored her atop this mattress of an altar, an unbeliever at last gripped by faith.

She feared losing Jillian. Her god had long changed its name.

[starwovenkiss]

part two here

Because how funny would it be if Jason Todd had a nemesis who had a crush on him?

Jason, who is just trying to do his job and keep Gotham from burning for one night so he doesn’t have to hear his umpteenth lecture from Bruce about the responsibilities he holds from carrying the bat symbol, pulls up to you.

You had become a thorn in his side as of late, and he tries not to let his amusement show when he sees you waiting on a rooftop.

“What are you doing here, _____?” He knows what you’re doing. It’s the same game you’ve played for the past three nights, and when you turn and smile, glossy lips turned upwards, he can’t help it when his own lips mirror the reaction. It’s involuntary, and he knows B is getting on his case about how much time he’s wasting while not bringing you in—but how can he, when he has so much fun chasing you like this?

“You know why I’m here.” He does. According to Babs, you’ve robbed two banks along 81st Street, and although the amount is significantly less than what you were pulling before, it’s enough to warrant concern. To get his attention, like you wanted.

“You’ve got to stop doing this.” His voice sounds lilted even through his voice filter, and he watches your brow raise, pausing for a moment before stepping closer to him.

“Stop doing what?” you purr, moving in closer, looking like a feline ready to strike. It’s easy to forget about your mentor, how you two were raised on opposite sides of the coin—one trained in stealth and justice, the other in seduction and vice. And while Selina’s influence still moves through your every movement, he’s watched you grow from that first night you appeared on the rooftop of Gotham’s Metropolitan Art Museum. How you developed your own style of fighting, your own form of distraction that differs from your mentor in every way.

“Where’s the money, cat?” he sighs, looking down at you. Despite facing a former crime lord and one of the most terrifying vigilantes in Gotham, your body language is relaxed, as if this is another casual conversation to you. In fact, you merely sigh, as if he’s the one being ridiculous for asking such a question.

“What money?” you smile softly before running to jump off the side of the roof. Jason readies himself, loving nothing more than to chase you into the night before he registers his comm system crackling to life.

“Babs,” he asks, still keeping an eye on your shrinking figure as you jump from rooftop to rooftop deeper into Gotham.

“I don’t get it.” She laughs. Jason tenses, knowing that whatever is going to come next can’t be good.

“She steals almost $75K from the vault, triggers every alarm known to man, just to leave it hidden two blocks away.” Jason knows why you did it—he’s not oblivious to the way you act around him. However, admitting that means he’s signing up for no certain amount of teasing from Babs and a potentially very long talk from Bruce (as if the hypocrite should have anything to say to him).

“Maybe she’s bored.” He shrugs, keeping his tone as even as he can.

“A protégée of Selina? Doubt it.” Babs snorts. “I could think of another reason why she keeps drawing you out there.”

Jason pauses before responding. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Babs does a terrible job of hiding her laughter. “Sure you don’t, Hood. Looks like there’s another robbery downtown, and it seems legit this time. I’d head over there if I were you.”

a/n: i have written 10k words of a gaz fic that has no end in sight, and needed something to get me out of my head. so here’s a little drabble for my other favorite boy <3

[secondratefiction]

That 70's Show Drabble request: It's your and your twin brother Eric's 16th birthday, kitty and red usually remember but they forget yours this year, your boyfriend Hyde notices and gives you one of the best birthdays ever, including you two both having sex for the first time. Hyde also does a little cussing at red And kitty for forgetting their youngest daughter's special day.

'ello my love, always nice to see you around 😁

Afraid I might have gone a little off the brief for this one, but hopefully it still hits at least most of what you wanted 💜

(Ok, yes, timeline wise, Hyde was living with the Foreman's before he got the car, but this is basically the fandom versions of "...who's like is it anyway?" where the stories are made up and canon events don't matter, so... just roll with it)

You're blaming Eric for this.

He was the one who decided he didn't want to share a birthday party with you any more

Now, granted, you had agreed, mostly out of anger and annoyance with him in the moment - "Fine! Why would I want another stupid Star Wars themed party anyway!" - But you hadn't thought it would end up here...

The decision had been made after the disastrous aftermath of your last combined party, and it was something that had slipped your mind over the last year.

Of course in the month before, Eric was sure to bring it up, and remind your parents that you were doing separate celebrations... although, you weren't expecting exactly how that ended up working out.

Your mother had seemed to pull out all the stops for this year "Sixteen is such a special age after all..."

There were pancakes and all of Eric's favorites at breakfast... only Eric's though

And you tried not to let that get to you, but you didn't even get so much as a happy birthday out of any of them... not even your Dad which stung quite a bit considering that it was no secret that he had a tendency to favor you over Eric and even Lori.

But you sucked it up, put on a brave face, and tried to act like it wasn't a big deal... which you were actually pretty good at -

At least until you got sent down to the basement to collect a few things for your mom. That's when Hyde spotted you...

He sat up from the couch looking like he was struggling to wake up. Which, in all fairness, he was, "Hey, little Foreman." You rolled your eyes at him, leaning on the ack of the couch, "Did you sleep here again?" "Yeah." He nodded, leaning into kiss you. "You're gonna get caught..." He only smirked up at you with a shrug, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Standing up, he vaulted over the back of the couch to pull you into a proper kiss that honestly made you a little weak in the knees, leaning into him more as he pulled away, "Happy Birthday baby."

And just like that the damn broke...

You let out a strangled, broken laugh, quickly burying your face in his chest to try and hide the fact tears had immediately sprung up, and that you were losing the fight to keep them contained.

To say Hyde was caught off guard would be the under statement of the century. He almost panicked as he scrambled trying to figure out what was wrong, what he'd said to set you off.

All of this despite your poor attempts to assure him it was nothing. "Hey, no. Look at me," He pulled you back from him so you couldn't keep hiding, and waiting until you actually looked up to meet his eyes, "If you are this upset, it is not 'nothing'. Now, tell me what happened."

You tried to fight it, keep your mouth shut, but there was an intensity in his gaze that left no room for argument... he wasn't going to let this go until you told him, so you did, laying out all the events of the morning, "... I can't believe they fucking forgot my birthday."

For a moment Hyde's expression was unreadable and you had just started to ask what he was thinking when he grabbed you by your elbow and started walking you towards the door "Wait! Steven, what are you - I'm supposed to be grabbing a box for my mom." "Don't worry about it, I'll get it."

He walked you straight out of the garage, putting you in the Camino, still very confused before he turned around a disappeared back down the basement steps.

He grabbed the box you had indicated and made his way up to the kitchen. Smiling tightly and nodding in greeting when Kitty noticed him. "I didn't realize you were here Steven." "I just came by to pick up Y/N... plans for her birthday, you know."

He took the moment of realization and shock on her face as a chance to drop the box on the table and make a quick exit out the sliding glass door.

He was sliding into the driver's seat by the time Kitty could be heard shouting for Red inside the house, throwing his arm behind your head as he looked to back the car out of the drive

"Ok..." You said slowly as he turned around to put the car in drive, pulling away from your house, "So what are we doing?"

"Don't know yet, that's up to you," He said, smirking at you, letting his hand come to rest on your knee, "Tell me what you want to do, and I'll make it happen."

You couldn't help but laugh a little bit, almost beaming at him as you put your own hand over his, "Anything I want?" "Anything."

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Harry Potter Love Language Drabbles

Slytherin Boys

Draco Malfoy: Gift Giving

I run my fingers across the emerald green dress, a wide grin on my face. It is absolutely beautiful. I could just picture myself wearing it. Draco and I dancing, swaying to the music.

“See something you like, love?” I pull my hand away, hoping Draco misses the fact I was looking at the beautiful dress. “Oh no. Nothing seems to have caught my eye.” The lie falls out of my mouth, smiling as I reach up, pushing the fringe out of his face. “Let’s go to the Three Broomsticks. I promised Pansy we would meet up after we were done here.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Only if you’re sure, you don’t need anything.” I nod, pulling Draco out of Gladrags. “I’m sure.”

“Good night Dray.” I kiss his cheek. Draco reaches up, pushing the hair out of my face. “Goodnight love.” I walk up the stairs, leading to the girl’s dormitory. “You have something on your bed.” Daphne calls as she walks into the bathroom. My brow furrows. "It’s cute!”

A gasp escapes past my lips as I see the emerald dress from Gladrags laying on my bed.

H..how?

Draco must have noticed I was looking at the damn thing. My eyes widen as I see the note beside it.

Love, please never hide anything you want from me. My vaults are for you to spend. Wear this Saturday night. We are going on a date. Dinner and a trip to your favorite bookstore. I love you, Princess. Get some sleep.

Theodore Nott: Acts of Services

“Theo, you really don’t have to do this.” I say from the top of the counter. Theo all but threw me on top of it, claiming I needed to rest my feet. I simply roll my eyes. I am pregnant, not invalid. Yet, I bit my tongue, knowing how futile it was to argue with my husband. "Alright, my love. Time to get you out of these clothes.” I giggle at the wiggle of his eyebrow as Theo undresses me. I once asked why he preferred to undress me, he said it was like Christmas morning every time. “Water isn't boiling as much as you prefer. Not good for the baby.” I roll my eyes, frowning. I miss my hot baths. “Join me Teddy?” I ask, placing my hands under his shirt, hope shining in my eyes. Theo leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “If I ever say no, avada me.” I lean against his chest, seeking his warmth. “Theo.” I whine. Theo picks me up, placing me into the warm water before crawling into the bath behind me. “I'm serious. Avada me.”

Blaise Zabini: Physical touch

Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw in a landslide. It seems the eagles have lost their touch after Cho left last year. I groan as my feet touches the grass. “What’s wrong, doll?” Blaise asks, a teasing tone evident in his voice. Whining, I look up at the castle. “The castle is so bloody far and my feet are killing me.” Blaise chuckles. “Just leaves me here to perish. Don’t forget about me, Blaise.” The rest of the group laughs at my antics, used to my dramatics. “Well I am not leaving you here.” Blaise crouches down, his back to me. “What are you doing?” Another chuckle falls from his lips. “Giving me girl a piggy back ride so she can rest her poor aching feet.” I laugh, climbing onto his back. “You're the best, B.” I whisper into his ear, placing a lingering kiss behind his ear. His hands tightens around my thigh. “I know.”

[jeonginslefthand]

Sing me to sleep 🛌 🎤

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader Genre: Angst (with a bit of a happy end) Summary: You have a nightmare and your boyfriend Jisung comforts you the only way he knows how.  Warnings: Depictions of a panic attack A/N: First fic of the year! Just a small drabble of an idea I had in the vault with a New Year’s element (wanted to post this on New Year’s Day but didn’t have enough time to write 😅). Also such a sucker for angst but I barely write it.   Stray kids masterlist

~~~

You wake up breathing heavily, eyes pacing around your bedroom, head spinning as tears fall clouding your eyes. You look toward a sleeping Jisung and touch his arm, hand shaking as you try to find comfort. This wakes Jisung, and he quickly notices you in distress, pulling you closer to him as he strokes your hair.

“Hey hey! What’s wrong baby?” Jisung asks in a soft voice.

“A-a nightmare… y-you were gone… left without saying anything… and nobody knew where you were a-and… people forgot about you a-and…” you say in between sobs and shaky breaths. 

Jisung seems to hold you tighter. “Baby it’s okay. It was just a bad dream. I’m still here right?”

“Y-yeah… b-but it felt so real…” 

“You’ve always had a crazy imagination. And I would never leave you without a good reason.”

You stay silent as Jisung tries to comfort you with his words. You calm down a little bit but tears still flow from your eyes and they don’t seem to stop. Jisung notices you cling to him tighter, like it’s the last time you’ll ever hold him.

“Hey! I know what’ll make you feel better.” Jisung exclaims.

“W-what?” 

Jisung releases your grip from him and walks across the room to grab his guitar. He lays back on the bed next to you, holding the guitar on his chest.

“How about I sing for you? Maybe it’ll help you fall asleep!” Jisung suggests. 

“I don’t know…” you respond. 

“Come on!! Give me a chance. I’ll play… the calmest song you’ve ever heard, okay?” 

“O-okay…” 

“Alright! This is something I was working on last week with Felix. I think you’ll like it!” 

Jisung starts strumming and singing a comforting song that would soon be added to the other unreleased songs he’s shown you. Something about the song speaks to you and you become more focused on his lyrics. You become completely entranced by the music. The softness of Jisung’s voice complementing the soft strokes of the guitar strings puts you back in your dream world. Jisung doesn’t notice that you’ve fallen asleep at first and keeps singing, hoping that his song will give you a better dream for you to wake up to. 

That wouldn’t be the last time Jisung sang your troubles away. Whenever you were stressed or on the verge of freaking out, you would ask Jisung to sing to you at night. Slowly, it became a regular occurrence to the point where you couldn’t sleep without hearing Jisung’s soft voice. 

But that was almost a year ago now.

Now, you find yourself at your friend’s New Year’s Eve party, watching the fireworks outside as the clock hits midnight. It finally hits you that this is your first New Year’s without him. But you try to focus on the bright lights of the fireworks.

BOOM!

You look around at the couples sharing New Year’s kisses. You wish Jisung were here to share that kiss one last time.

BOOM! 

Your mind races back to your big fight with Jisung. The one that would make your nightmare come true.

BOOM!

The back and forth yelling. It felt like you both were completely different people. Letting months of anger and resentment take over both of you. Realizing that the spark between you two was gone. 

BOOM!

He left. Quietly. But not without saying goodbye and kissing your cheek with an “I still love you baby.” Thinking you were fast asleep. But you heard it. You felt it. 

BOOM!

He kept that promise… he didn’t leave without saying goodbye… 

BOOM! 

You wish you never said any of those things to him. You wish you two never had that fight. You wished Jisung was here with you right now telling you everything was okay, that he’s been right next to you all along.

BOOM!

But you know this isn’t a dream. It’s real and he is gone.

You tell your friend you’re not feeling well and catch a taxi back to your apartment. You get to your room and lay in your bed, crying yourself to sleep. You thought you would be completely over Jisung, but part of you still loved him no matter how hard you denied it. 

You pull out your phone and start playing one of Jisung’s songs, hoping you’ll fall asleep to one of them. You’ve been casually keeping up with his recent solo music and wish you dared to tell him how proud you were. All the late nights writing and singing to you were worth it.

You doze off listening to Jisung’s solo album when you faintly hear a knock. You open the door and see who it could be so late at night. But you stood at the door in shock as you couldn’t believe what you saw.

“Before you ask, this isn’t a dream,” Jisung says, holding your favorite flowers and his guitar. “Couldn’t spend New Year’s without you. Let me sing you a song baby, just like old times!”

~~~

If you liked this leave a like, reblog, and/or comment! I appreciate it and thanks for reading!! General taglist is also open! Leave a comment if you'd like to be added

[nyanzzn]

A warm heart & a cold embrace , 𝖍.𝖐

Pairing: Frost Fairy!Hyuka x Animal Fairy!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Tags: Frost Fairy Hyuka, They live in Pixie hollow, Reader is a yapper.

- Despite Being a warm fairy, winter was your favorite season. You love seeing the intricate look of each snowflakes and how fun it is to help the animals cross the border everytime winter season starts in pixie hollow.

- That is when you met kai, a frost fairy who was tasked to guide the little creatures on their way to winter woods.

- At first, Kai couldn't hold eye contact for more than a few seconds, quickly shying away as he ushered the bunnies and ferrets lining up while crossing the border.

- You offered a small wave to him and all he could do was nod and wave back, then he was back to his job making sure to count all the creatures that are currently in his side.

- As soon as all the animals made it across, you quickly flew to the middle of the border, making sure not to cross it.

- "Hi! I'm Y/N, What's your name? Are you an animal fairy in winter? What do you do?" you introduced yourself, voice evident with joy and curiosity. It was very new to you, as you've never really met a winter fairy before.

- You hovered over him as you couldn't keep your excitement, your wings seeming to have a mind of its own.

- "Huening Kai..." He muttered, his eyes avoiding yours. Feeling a bit flustered by the sudden closeness between the two of you

- As if sensing something wrong you let out a gasp, "Oh no! I'm so sorry, Was I too pushy? Did I cross any boundaries? Are you okay? I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. My friends told me I come off too strong sometimes."

- Kai panicked as you flew around in distress, too worried about how you might've made a bad first impression.

- "Hey, no! it's okay... calm down." He gently grabs you by your wrist and pulls you down, "You're okay, it's just that... i'm not really used to talking to new people." and you're really pretty, kai wanted to add but kept it to himself instead.

- As much as you wanted to talk it seems that the little ones behind kai were getting a bit impatient.

- He let out a laugh as one of the rabbits kept tugging on his pants, "Okay, buddy. Just give me a sec, hm?"

- "Willow's an impatient one, you should go ahead and take them to the woods." You stated, giving kai a soft smile.

- "Uhm... If you want, maybe... maybe we can meet again? right here, same time?"

- Kai asked and without a hint of hesitation, you agreed.

- From that day on began you're friendship with huening kai, as the two of you frequently met at the border talking about your own favorite seasons and places in pixie hollow, along with your favorite animal to take care of.

⭑.ᐟ sev: yippieeee, finally my hyuka drabble (?) is free from the vault! i really love their chikai photoshoot, kai and snow ❄️ makes a great combo fr. he's so pretty 🥺🥺🥺 i'll start to post slowly starting this time. still kinda new but i'll figure out a format for my fics somehow! i hope you like frost fairy kai and animal fairy reader (was supposed to post a longer more detailed fic but maybe next time?)

[theallianceofcelestials]

Could we have a small drabble of ETD Eclipse and Ruin meeting a younger animatronic (Lunar, maybe?) that was abandoned at an oil rig with bad damage (But still functional)?

Of course! :D

Do be warned for there shall be innuendos and adult jokes in there (nothing bad, but still)

Ruin seems rather ecstatic, in his own theatrical fashion. Even if the sun's still high and the rig is still not fully overtaken. Eclipse has to smile at it.

Especially when his hands are grabbed, and he's brought into a twirl

"My love, I'm so happy you chose to accompany me here! I could just eat you right up! If only we weren't in public"

Mismatched optics look him over with playfully obvious intent, and he snorts. If his lover tries he'll get his pretty avatar's face broken in. Though he might enjoy that. He did ask him once to step on it once

"If you want to sleep on the metaphorical couch for the rest of your days you can try it-"

"No thank you"

The eldritch being shudders, as if he truly just heard a most horrifying thing in the entire world. He just rolls his optics.

Drama queen.

Their carefree dancing comes to a slow stop, his amalgam staring towards the floor with that glazed over look he gets when he focuses on something else during a takeover. Eclipse just waits patiently, already having a feeling he'll be left alone for a bit.

"My dear, I apologise, but-"

"I already knew you were going to leave. Don't worry about it, I'll be fine"

Ruin looks at him with worry, clearly not too optimistic, especially after prior experiences.

"Are you sure?"

He just leans forward, pressing a delicate kiss to that beloved face. The amalgamation pulls him closer for a second or two, then leans away.

"Very well, I will sea you later my dear"

And the his avatar gone, but the pulsing tendrils around him pull him closer just for a moment. He hugs one close to himself reassuringly.

When he's finally let go of, he scampers away with a grin.

He's curious just how similar this rig is

.*.*.*.

This place is, obviously, falling apart, just like the others were. It's especially not helped by the eldritch horror crawling up it.

He's rather unimpressed by the amount of trash thrown around, fairly certain his lover didn't start tipping over trashcans just for funsies. Seems like the humans on board, as well as their assigned animatronic, couldn't be bothered. Or maybe it fell over from an explosion. He doesn't know.

Still, that makes him wonder

What was the animatronic on this oil rig like?

Were they sentient? Were they just a machine? Are they still alive? Or have they died?

He's just pessing by the worker's lounge when he gets his answers in the form of a soft whimper.

Eclipse freezes in his tracks, turning slowly to the cracked open door, where sunshine is streaming lazily through.

He can't help but approach, despite knowing how bad of an idea that may be, which is probably a consequence of his lover being so strong. But it doesn't sound like one of the monsters, no matter how much he tries listening.

He pushes the door open the rest of the way with care anyway, if only so he doesn't get jumped immediately by a convulsing tumour that used to be human. That would suck especially bad

But he was worried for nothing, because the room seems empty, and the crying has stopped.

"Hello?"

He doesn't know why he calls out, doesn't know why he continues to observe, doesn't know why he just doesn't leave. It feels almost as if something's keeping him here.

"...Help..?"

The voice sounds glitchy, and he rushes forward, vaulting over a big overturned couch just to get to his fellow animatronic. When he finally has visual of them, he freezes.

They're a celestial model like him, but a lunar one instead of a solar one, with light and dark blue paint, fully gold optics and a silver crescent moon on their forehead. They're heavily damaged. But that's not what caused him to freeze.

No, what did is the clear sign of life in those optics. Just like in his own.

"A-A-Ano-other..?"

"Hush, don't talk"

He kneels down before he can properly process anything, already reaching out to try and close off leaking tubes on the poor sod. They withstand it with painfully winces and light flinching

"I'm Eclipse, what's your name?"

"Lu-Lun-Lu-unar-r-r"

"That's a bit of an obvious, seeing as you're a lunar model"

He tears at his own clothes, ones much nicer than what he used to have, tying the biggest injuries he can see. He grits his teeth in irritation. If only he had proper tools on himself

"Ho-o-ow ar-re yo-u herrre?"

Ah yeah

"You see the weird glowing tendrils out there?'

"O-of-f-f-f th-e mo-nste-ste-ster?"

"Yeah, that's my boyfriend"

Lunar blinks at him with wide, clearly disbelieving optics, and Eclipse gets the feeling he's viewed as an insane maniac right now. But that's fine. He wouldn't believe himself either.

"Speaking of" he picks the damaged animatronic up, grinding his teeth together at the pained yelp "We should probably get help from him."

If only so he can get into engineering, which should have all the tools he needs. His lover should be done by now anyway, and looking for him.

"Don't worry kid, we will get you help"

Lunar doesn't answer, and Eclipse has an inkling he knows why. The smaller animatronic thinks he's going to die.

Well, not on his watch!

.*.*.*.

Eclipse bursts through the door to outside with a blood-curdling scream

"RUIN!"

The animatronic in his arms flinches, especially when a tendril zeroes in on them immediately, shooting towards them at break-neck speed. It curls around them with worried twitching

"Love?! What is it?! ...Who is that with you?"

"His name is Lunar! He's damaged! We can't leave him like this!"

It's clear his lover is not the most enthused, but at a particularly vicious glare makes him manifest his avatar, and then familiar hands are guiding him.

"Alright, of course, this way my lovely treasure!"

He looks back down at the clearly fearful Lunar in his arms, doing his best to give a reassuring smile. It probably falls rather flat, especially with his growing tumour of a lover being so distanced and well, an eldritch horror.

"Don't worry, you will be fine. We will fix you right up"

He doesn't look like he believes him

.*.*.*.

"Eclipse, are you sure this is the best course of action my dear?"

He looks up from the offlined animatronic laying on a metal slab before him, looking questioningly at his lover.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Mismatched hands are held up in surrender, but his lover doesn't take his cold eyes off Lunar. Now that he actually knows the amalgam, it's clear to see how uncaring, if slightly intrigued, he started off with him too.

Perhaps his novelty really made all the difference. Perhaps not. They can't know now.

"Are you sure fixing that fellow is for the best? For all we know, he could be untrustworthy"

"So could have I been"

Ruin's attention snaps back at him, and he almost seems offended. But then he thinks about it for a moment, and he clearly realises Eclipse has a point.

"Also, believe what you may, I do hold sympathy for my kind. Humans have trampled all over us for the longest time, and as the only one who's tasted freedom I feel..."

The eldritch horror sighs, dragging himself over to press a kiss to his cheek. Hands wrap around his waist, interlocking before his lower belly, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He doesn't look away from Lunar spread out on the table.

"And you feel like it's your responsibility to give them all a chance. Because somehow I've managed to get myself such a particularly sweet lover"

His rays are nuzzled affectionately, and he can't help but turn to steal a kiss. His lover reciprocates eagerly.

"Very well, I shall help you. If only because I can't say no to you when you look like that'

"Like what?"

Mismatched eyes gleam with interest, and the grin spreading wide across his lover's face is as predatory as it is worshipful. It causes him to shiver, not expecting such devotion from such a godly being.

"Like you're holding that tiny little flame, ready to burn anything that stands in your way"

The lighter he grabbed once again on the last rig burns, and from the gaze of his lover, Ruin knows.

And the eldritch being has always liked the flame he sees in Eclipse

[cosmicflare]

♡ tell me you're not hurting [unfinished]

Summary: You knew the Ghoul for a good while, getting close enough to him to where he revealed his past as the once-famous actor Cooper Howard and involvement and eventual blacklist with Vault-tec. He never let it show- but you knew he was hurting. You just wanted him to admit it.

Warnings: 18+, angst and fluff

Pairing: The Ghoul x GN!reader

Notes: Just a short drabble. THIS IS UNFINISHED. This was sitting in my drafts and I dont feel like finishing it but didnt want to leave it there. Hope you still enjoy it though!

"Cooper, be honest with me please" You begged as he walked ahead at a brisk pace, fast enough to silently say that he was upset but not to completely lose you. To match his pace, you hurriedly caught up to him and begun to match his stride.

"I ain't gotta tell you shit, I already told ya more than anyone else in these wastelands. Now you best change the subject before I find nice old Deathclaw cave for you to sleep in" Every threat he made was never serious, but his tone wasn't to be messed with either. You knew so much about his life, his rise to fame and his fall, and the day the bombs dropped. You were originally from Shady Sands which was a town started up by a vault before it got bombed, losing eveything you knew and loved. It was after where you had found him, lost and confused in the ruthless wasteland where a part of him took pity on you. He would never admit it but you knew he grew fond of you.

"Cooper, you always have this tough bravado act but I know you more than you know yourself" At that, the ghoul spun around and angrily shortened the distance betwern you both, standing right up in your face and leaning down, causing your heart to skip as you stared right back.

"It's not a fuckin' act, you wanna live out here? You gotta do shit you don't wanna do to survive. Now I know you ain't claiming to know more about me than myself. Shut your fuckin' mouth and let's go, we need to get to the next town before nightfall. I ain't gonna tell you again Smoothskin" Now that pissed you off. He only called you Smoothskin if he was genuinely frustrated with you. Taking a deep breath, you watched as he turned around and resumed his fast walk, even faster now. Growling, you snatched his wrist and pulled him close.

"Tell me you're not hurting. Tell me you're not hurting right fucking now and I won't bring it up again. Tell me you don't wake up every day and hate yourself for what you did in the old world, for what you became, for what became of the world. Tell me you're ok living as a ghoul being a bounty hunter in this fucked up world living everyday as something you hate. Tell me you don't need me to not be lonely anymore. Tell me to fuck off and never see you again" Silence echoed in the empty desert with the only sound being your heavy breathing. All your internal thoughts all out in the open now as neither of you spoke, a pleading look on your face as you wanted him to be honest and admit that he was hurting inside. That he needed you more than he let on. The silence was deafening before he spoke.

"Fine, you wanna know the truth? I do hate myself. I hate myself a fuckin' lot. Every time I see anything related to Vault-tec I'm reminded of the bullshit that I helped them with. Being their spokesperson and when I didn't wanna do it anymore- motherfuckers blacklisted me and my wife left me. But I've had a good long two hundred years to think about what I've done. Yeah I'm not happy with myself, but the past is in the past and I know for sure I'm not gonna linger over something I can't change. There. You happy now?" He didn't tear up, he didn't sound any more pissed off than he normally does, there was no hint to signal that he was actually broken inside. But when you turn into a ghoul left to wander the wastelands for as long as him, you learn to shove your feelings down and keep going.

But Cooper Howard was an important person back in the old world, he was a famous actor, he had everything. Then he lost everything. All because he stood up for what's right to him and then the bombs dropped. You grew up in the Wastelands in the town that resmebled what the old world was like, but it was miniscule in comparison, so you had no idea what it was like back then, only from what you heard from him and him alone. You'd like to believe he considered you a friend, he told you a lot, but not everything. This was the most vulnerable he ever gotten with you after constant pushing.

"You may not be able to change the past Coop, but you can stop acting like you're this big man who needs to keep his feelings all inside. I'm here for you, for everything. You know that. Being honest with yourself for once will actually help you. Please, I care about you" Staring at him with pleading eyes, you grabbed his hand and pulled him close and into a hug. He stayed silent and he was tense for a good ten seconds or so, you thought he wouldn't hug you back. Just as you were going to pull away, you felt his arms wrap around yours, rather awkwardly, but it made your heart warm. He probably hasn't been hugged since he was a human, that had to of hurt.

"Now you don't gonna tell anyone 'bout this, ya hear? Or you'll have to pay"

[sashaisready]

Food shopping with Bucky

I love a little domesticity and sweetness so here’s a fluffy drabble on what it’d be like to do your grocery shopping with Bucky.

~ He’d often be overwhelmed by the sheer choice at the supermarket. In his day it was one type of everything, maybe two, not shelves and shelves of different brands and varieties. You’d find him in an aisle holding two near identical boxes of cereal in his hands, trying to figure out which one is better until you swoop in and help.

~ ‘You don’t need all this choice’ he’d grumble. ‘Nobody needs to decide between 8 different types of ketchup’.

~ You’d smile affectionately and take his arm. ‘Alright old man, simmer down’. He’d give you a warning look but then his face would crumple into a smile. You’re the only one who can talk like that to him and get away with it.

~ He never did his own grocery shopping as the Soldier because his handlers kept him fed, so it’s been a bit of a learning curve. But despite how overwhelming it can be he quite likes the experience: chatting to the workers, diligently following a list. Mostly he likes that he’s in control, he gets to choose exactly what he wants. You know having that autonomy is important to him, so you let him lead.

~ Food is becoming more enjoyable to him because of you. He used to only eat for fuel, for necessity, but now he has started enjoying eating and cooking because you’ve introduced him to the joys of food. He wanders off and you find him peering at the cooking sauces aisle while checking a new recipe on his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. ‘Let’s try this one’ he tells you as he picks up the sauce. You nod encouragingly, ‘Sure, looks good’ you say smiling. He’s come a long way.

~ You stretch to reach something on the tallest shelf but can’t quite manage. Without missing a beat he grabs it with ease and hands it to you. Later on you go to pick up a heavy bag of charcoal for the BBQ and he tsks you scoldingly, grabbing the bag from you and slugging it effortlessly over his shoulder. ‘Doll…’ he sighs. ‘I’ve told you before to be careful’. He looks at you with a hint of annoyance, his stern face no match for how much he cares for you.

~ As you wait in line he diligently checks the cart to ensure you got everything you need, his metal fingers casually drawing a circle on your lower back as he double checks the list. It’s handwritten on paper of course, he much prefers that to the Notes app. He tells you striking each item off is more satisfying that way. ~ After you’ve paid, you’re delayed when he helps an elderly lady take her bags to her car, vaulting them all up into his arms at once as she stares on, bewildered by his strength.

~ You can’t help but steal a kiss as he returns, he kisses back but looks at you with confusion when you finally finish. ‘What was that for?’ he asks. ‘I just love you’ you smile. He smiles right back. ‘And I love you, Doll’.

[bl4nk-card]

Howdy! How about short drabbles (at least 2 if that's ok!) with any characters you'd like, with a (female or gn) reader who is a bad kiter (their in-game description would state a significant vaulting speed debuff lol), but during the ongoing match they've actually managed to contain the hunter really well, to the point there were only 2 machines left (with them both already decoded approximately halfway)! The reader, often feeling as a burden to the survivors bc they usually kite badly, finally is knocked down, but a fellow teammate rushes to them, while the hunter is distracted with someone else, and praises the reader while healing them)

REBOUND ♡

✧ [ SFW general headcanons ] ✧

andrew kreiss, edgar valden, and william ellis (separated) & a gn! reader who did really well kiting <3

a/n: hhiii ! can be viewed as platonic or romantic for all three:D

✧༺♥༻ EDGAR VALDEN

edgar knows your usual kiting skills, rendering them .. as something that 'needs a little more work', in his eyes, for the team. your bond with him remained a little wounded at the start, much more if there is no form of intimacy within. the painter is difficult to convince otherwise once he is certain of a thought of belief of his own. and oftentimes, these thoughts, when it comes to matches, are not the friendliest. they do not cheer anyone up. in fact, they hurt. the painter does take matches seriously.

earlier in the match, when you shouted ' the hunter is nearby ! ', edgar was creating ideas in his head already; if he should rescue must you get downed 30 seconds in, or if he should come over and help. hence why, when you kited so well, completely overthrowing his thoughts, he couldn't quite believe it. he denied it, thinking in the back of his mind that a teammate was supporting you 5 ciphers in the match. one, two, three! ciphers popped, and that was the only time when you went down close to his area.

with uncertainty (because edgar was persistent on thinking about how you managed something as such), he approached to lighten your wounds at least a little bit while another teammate distracted the hunter from picking you up.

it was then that he, unexpectedly, gentled his touch. he tried to make them stern, putting it in his mind that healing was a serious business, but he couldn't. he handled your injuries with care.

because he looked up to you after what you've done. he'd never admit that, though.

' thank you- ' (name) muttered.

edgar huffed, finishing up on one of your arms. once more, he tried to do this with serious hands, but he still couldn't.

' .. you did .. good, '

it was a surprising comment. instead of his usual dismissals, he began to specify what about your kite had stood out to him:

' a splendid performance, considering the hunter was hullabaloo. i saw some of your predictions, your feet were not clumsy, you did not trip, '

' really? you think so? ', name mumbled in shock.

edgar's cheeks tinted to a hue of red ever so slightly from embarrassment, and he scoffs, pulling away.

' .. whatever, don't get ahead of yourself --- we're still not out of here. get up. '

✧༺♥༻ ANDREW KREISS

andrew knows you well; he keeps an eye on each individual of the manor. he is quite familiar with your enhanced skills in other areas, however, he fears for your safety when you kite the hunter.

' god, please let (name) be safe, ' he nearly shocked himself as he no longer focused on the machine, turning his attention to the haunting thoughts. ' within a minute from now, something will happen.. '

poor andrew had nearly shocked himself over four times, driven out of focus as he worried about (name). what if they were hurt? did something wrong happen? with their vulnerable vaulting abilities, andrew's mind persisted on panicking and he could not calm down for a moment. everything was in shambles. he could not and did not stop worrying until he came to support you.

but after he saw you in safe hands, completely managing just fine, he was ... still worried. no, he will never stop worrying until you are both out of the match --- what if something can go wrong at any moment?

hence why he immediately rushed to heal you all up as soon as three ciphers announced completion; the hunter was right there beside you, distracted by a nearby batter, but did it matter? to andrew, no. he mentally thanked ganji for being there, for threatening the hunter must they ever picked you up.

in panicked breaths, andrew could not control his shaking fingers as he guided you up from your position. he nearly held your arm too hard, almost snatched you towards him, eager to leave the scene while the opportunity was still there. andrew couldn't even talk as he did. his thoughts were filled with your outstanding performance, and the desperate need to leave the area and keep you safe.

guiding your shaky footsteps, andrew directed the both of you to a less dangerous area where he muttered,

' you... you did very well, (name). i.. i'm impressed, and .. quite relieved you are safe. a great job. '

(if you are close):

andrew may even, with his trembling hands, gently pat you or offer a sort of physical praise. maybe rub your back. considering you both know each other well, andrew is largely familiar with your self-depreciative thoughts and finds them a hindrance. they are false and troublesome, so before you could even doubt him, he would stop you.

' thank you, ' (name) would say. however, they were reluctant at andrew's words, unused to praise and, quite frankly, not believing them. ' .. but it wasn't really anything great -- '

andrew would shush them with a shake of his head, sighing with just the slightest bit of sternness. ' accept the words; you are a great one, and you did very, very well. i will not hear anything else out of you.. '

✧༺♥༻ WILLIAM ELLIS

filled with nothing but concern and the persistent urge to help, william has observed your strategies in kiting, realizing how often they remain short and rather chaotic. unlike edgar, he doesn't perceive your short-kiting abilities as a thing that brings the team down. rather, he believes that, as a team, he and the others should help you --- that's what a team is.

the cipher machine rattled as william decoded. when the match had begun, he had already prepared himself as soon as the hunter chose to pursue you first. terrorshocked and seated too early? he will come to rescue. ballooned at a safe distance? he will get you out of there. william is alert and ready to offer assistance whenever you needed it.

however, no call from you arrived. you had not yelled for his help or another teammate's, and you were holding for an incredibly long time. william waited on, on, and on, and soon, his cipher along with two others have finished. it does not take him a while to understand what was going on.

to say that this man was STUNNED is an understatement. he is very surprised at the consistency in which you've held the hunter at bay for. from a distance, he could see you pulling your little moves, doing the little left and right --- he is awed. and proud. very, very proud of you and your accomplishment.

william went through a joy of his own at seeing you succeed --- look at you go!

.. the reward for your kite was william. william and william as he nursed you back to good health with norton distracting the hunter some steps afar.

' holy, (name), ' william would laugh, roughly patting (name) on the back, making them cough as he cheered them on during healing; ' (naaaaammmeeeeee)!!!! ha ha ! '

he was so , so happy for you.

' thank you, william-- '

' yeah, i don't know why you talk so bad about yourself. those sad eyes, the pout everytime you quickly get downed --- stop doing those. you're great in a way that you can't see, ' he demanded, ' it's unacceptable, got it? '

' what- '

' this was a development, (name). i always knew you had a knack for something hidden in there. you're amazing, and you'll keep that in your head, alright? '

' shhh - nonono, no bad little words- be quiet-! '

william couldn't stop bringing your victory up for the entire day. he was much too joyful for it!

✧༺♥༻

[sad-zombie-boy]

Three little drabbles of different situations Al has experienced in the trials.

Carrying people out and soothing the dying are things he does on the regular, decking Prime Assets not so much.

Cleanse the Orphans, carrying  reagent out Mary 19, Janet 23, Logan 22

“Where’s Mary?” Al asks Logan as he rushes into the chapel. He had sent the two downstairs to start the generator while he and Janet dealt with Jesus.

“I left her behind, you know she’s slowed us down this entire time. You already killed Jesus, let’s just get the fuck out of here” Logan responds, already reaching for the button. Luckily it hadn’t popped up, meaning she was still alive. This seemed to irritate Logan, who hadn’t had a nice thing to say about the younger girl anytime they teamed up, which was part of why Al grouped them up, trying to force civility.

“I ain’t leavin’ no one behind, you two hold tight, Imma go get ‘er,” Al says, glaring at Logan in disgust. “And if you leave someone behind one more time you can consider yer trainin’ days over” He adds before rushing down to the basement. Unfortunately, he wasn't the first to find her, the patrolling grunt already had her on the ground, repeatedly bashing her face and chest while she begged for her to stop. Never slowing down, Al rams shoulder first into the woman, shoving her into the nearby wall.

“I’ve gotcha,” Al says, scooping the girl up, already halfway across the basement when the grunt gets her bearings. 

“Why would you do that to me?” He hears the grunt yell as he rushes up the stairs, paying her no mind. They were close enough to the chapel it barely mattered if they were followed, the gates would be down by the time she caught up to them. 

“Button now! Jan you stun Goose” He demands as he runs into the chapel. Setting Mary down behind the podium as the children ‘drink’ the blood, “Imma carry you on my back ‘til we get t’ the shuttle alright? You just hold on tight.” He says, crouching so she can wrap her arms around his neck. She doesn’t respond, face already starting to swell from the beating, but he could feel her nod against his back as she clings to him. Once situated with her on his back Al adjusts his footing, remaining hidden with the other two behind the podium waiting for Gooseberry to arrive. As soon as she gets halfway through the chapel Janet stuns her as she was told and they all take off running. Mary keeps a tight grip around Al’s neck, burrowing her face in his shoulder while he rushes to the shuttle.

“Logan you get whatever big fucker is at the front, ‘nd I’ll get the shuttle button got it?” He says, only getting a grunt back from the other male. Despite being irritated at Al Logan did as he was told, rushing ahead to vault over the deck fence while Al and Janet took the stairs.

“Catch” Al yells, tossing Janet a rig recharger, who stays by the elevator in anticipation of Gooseberry’s arrival. Al doesn’t stop running until he reaches the shuttle, passing Logan and the now stunned large naked grunt, slamming the button before setting Mary down gently.  

“Soon as it opens, you crawl right in. Imma make sure the others are okay” He says. The girl nods though she’s reluctant to let go of Al. Much to his relief the other two were already rounding the corner to the shuttle before he had a chance to join them. He keeps his stun ready, letting the others enter the shuttle to safety before joining them himself. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

Sabotage the lockdown. Punching Coyle 

Al didn’t even want to train today, but after being followed through the sleep room for half the day by two reagents, to the point Dorris kicked him out of the cafeteria he finally agreed. Neither of them had run a trial yet and they were too scared to go without help, something he had heard countless times before. Sabotaging the lockdown was easy enough but nothing seemed to be going right this time. Coyle hardly left the generator, one trainee kept getting grabbed by the pouncers, the other kept stepping on mines, and neither of them knew how to avoid sound traps. Normally this wasn’t an issue, it was his job to teach the newbies how to survive, but it was supposed to be his day off and the Skinnerman dreams had kept him up most of the night. So when he saw Coyle had the young girl by her shirt as they reached the end he didn’t even think just decked the man square in the jaw. This sent the cop sprawling to the floor, knocking his sunglasses off. Both men were equally shocked by the attack just staring at each other. Al had never hit any of the Ex-Pops before, let alone one of the Prime Assets. Sure he had shoved them around to knock them off his teammates before but outright hitting them? Never. He had no idea what had come over him as he stared at the man, half expecting him to jump up and strangle him. Much to his surprise the cop sat there staring at him, like both of them couldn’t believe Al had hit him. It wasn’t until the girl he had saved started to drag him by his arm to the shuttle he snapped out of it, flipping the bird at the still-stunned man as the shuttle doors closed. Easterman wasn’t gonna be happy with him but he would figure it out after a nap.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

Empty the Vault, Comforting a dying reagent, Earl age 32

It happened so fast that Al barely had time to catch Earl as he fell back from the shot, blood splattering the both of them. He wastes no time stunning Franco so he can focus on his teammate.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you, you’re okay ’m right here,” He says softly. Half carrying, half dragging the other reagent to a dark corner far away enough they won’t be heard. The other male is already starting to panic, clawing at Al’s arms for stability.

“It hurts, oh god, oh god.” He panics, tears running down his face from under his goggles, “don’t leave me, please, please don’t leave me” he pleads, his nails digging into Al’s arms. 

“I ain’t going nowhere, ’m right here I promise, I just need t’ lock the door. ’m right here” Al responds, gently prying Earl’s hands off him, he quickly does just that before kneeling next to the man. There was no saving him, the shot from that little freak blew a chunk clean out of Earl’s torso all Al could do was provide him comfort in his last moments. Ignoring the blood on his hands he sets Earl’s head in his lap, running his fingers through the man’s hair with one hand and holding Earl’s hand with his other.

“Mom, I want my mom, I don’t want to die, I’m scared” the man sobs. Al’s breath hitches at the man’s wailing, no matter how many times he cradles his trainees as they die it never gets easier. It was even more jarring hearing an older man beg for his mother. But when it came down to it, it didn’t matter no matter the age Al felt he had a duty. If he couldn’t protect them he would at least hold them in their final moments. 

“I know, I’m sorry, ’m so sorry. I’m right here. I promise I ain’t going nowhere. Just squeeze my hand.” Al whispers. The two of them sit like that with Earl sobbing and Al soothing him until Earl takes his last shaky breath. The previously painfully tight grip on Al’s hand goes limp moments later.  With a soft sigh, Al lifts the man's goggles, wiping the blood on his hands off on the back of his shirt before shutting Earl’s eyes. Gently he sets his head on the floor, crossing his arms across his chest. No one ever gets real funerals in a place like this so Al liked to make sure the dead at least looked peaceful, no matter how gruesome their death might have been. The hardest part was finishing the trial covered in his teammate's blood, knowing he had failed to keep all of them safe. 

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Live Amata Reaction (Butch Deloria First Kiss Drabble)

Word Count: 588

Overseer Amata was fiddling with her radio. Ever since GNR’s satellite dish had been repaired, the vault had access to their radio broadcasts.

It was a real boon. The vault was her home, but even she could admit that it could be monotonous down here.

Not that that was why she’d wanted to open it. No, she knew that the dwindling population and the risk of inbreeding would’ve been the vault’s doom. And if opening up the vault meant breaking up the monotony of life underground? Well, that was just a bonus.

The radio crackled to life just in time to hear the final bars of Mighty, Mighty Man.

“What's up Wastelanders? This is Three Dog, and you're listening to GNR! That's Galaxy News Radio, in case you forgot...”

She was just in time.

Every day, she tuned in in the hopes of hearing some news of her best friend. Former best friend, she reminded herself with a wince. ‘The Lone Wanderer’, as the effusive Three Dog had nicknamed her.

“Let me ask you something, children. You hungry for some 200-year-old Salisbury steak, or you hungry for some news? I’m guessing news. Here ya go.”

Amata was sure that she probably hated her. She had turned her out, after all. It had been for the good of the vault, but she would never forget the look of betrayal on her best friend’s face.

Still, Amata cared about her. She wanted to know that she was alive. She would save the wasteland someday, Amata was sure of that much.

“And this particular piece of news is as juicy as a big old radroach steak, but it might not be appropriate for all our listeners. Little Lamplight, cover your ears.”

Amata leant in closer, curious.

“You remember the kid from Vault 101? Well, my sources are telling me that she’s now travelling around with a greasy young man in a leather jacket, who’s also a former denizen of the vault, but that ain’t all, folks…”

Butch had made it, then. Shortly after Amata had banished her best friend to the wasteland forever, Butch had cussed her out and made his own way to the surface. He had said he wasn’t going after ‘The Lone Wanderer’, but Amata had doubts about his ability to survive alone. She had never liked Butch, she was still glad to hear that they’d been reunited.

“No, our Lone Wanderer has had her fair share of companions before, but none of them like this. In fact, one of my loyal listeners over in Megaton let me know something veeeeeeery interesting.”

Amata narrowed her eyes. What was Three Dog talking about?

“You see, dear listeners, a few nights ago, those two crazy kids from Vault 101 returned to Megaton looking a little worse for wear. I’m talking bloodied, I’m talking armour in dire need of repairs, and I’m talking arguing like their lives depended on it.”

Amata relaxed a little. That was the Lone and Butch that she knew.

“And all of a sudden, this young man grabs our hero of the vault by the face and plants one on her! That’s right! He kissed her square on the mouth. From what I hear, she gave as good as she got. The two of them retired back to her place, and that’s where I’ll leave you, because some things are better left… behind closed doors… That’s all for now, folks. Stay safe out there.”

For a few moments, Amata sat in stunned silence.

“What?!” she shrieked.

Masterlists.

Taglist info.

[jokerislandgirl32]

Ziolet Songs: Day Five

Day 5 - I Can See You

And we kept everything professional But something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like They keep watchful eyes on us So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet You won't believe half the things I see inside my head Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do? Baby, if you only knew, oh, oh, oh That I could see you throw your jacket on the floor I could see you, make me want you even more What would you do? Baby, if you only knew That I can see you

I like to think that Zach and Violet initially have to keep their relationship a secret due to his occupation. He’s a CEO of a well known company; he’s a public figure, so people can’t know he’s messing around with his personal assistant.

At the beginning of their romantic relationship, Zach’s very self conscious about this, and he doesn’t want Violet showing her affection toward him. As time goes on, Zach becomes less concerned and more reckless. He’s engaging in PDA with her whenever and wherever he wants. And he and Violet both enjoy it throughly.

A little drabble about this topic is the below cut due to length and slightly suggestive content, including kissing: nothing explicit happens, it’s only implied!

Zach sat in his chair waiting for the board meeting to start. He stared at me as I set up the table in the conference room. I placed folders with documents at each seat, bottles of water in the middle of the table, and I completed a few other odds and ends tasks to make sure everything was ready for the long meeting ahead.

He rested his cheek against his fist, and he huffed in annoyance, “come here,” he growled.

I approached him with a slight smirk on my face, arching an eyebrow at him, “what’s going on, Zach?”

Zach reached out a hand and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him until I was close enough for him to grab me with both hands and pull me into his lap in a tight hug. He buried his head into the hair against the back of my neck with a sigh.

“Zach?” I yelped in surprise, “what are you doing? The board members will be here soon, they can’t see us like this!”

“Who says they can’t see us like this?” Zach mumbled, pulling me closer to him, his arms wrapped around my stomach.

“Uhhh, you do…” I exclaimed, trying to pull away, “you said it’s unprofessional since you’re the boss and have to model appropriate conduct…you’ve fussed at me for giving you platonic hugs in front of them! And don’t get me started on the ‘the tabloids can’t know’ bologna!”

Zach groaned, kissing my hair, “what if I don’t care anymore? You’re mine, I’m yours. What if I don’t care what they say or anyone else says….besides….they’ve already seen us in some…interesting situations…”

“Yeah…like you up against the wall kissing me,” I mumbled under my breath, rolling my eyes.

[disastrouscanasta]

did the BoB fallout universe within my brain accidentally expand to include a clegan drabble, yes, yes it did

i actually wrote this for my dear friend @krakerjaksstuff, for not only her unwavering and very much appreciated support, but also to feed her interest in clegan and mota >:3

~

John had still been asleep when the bombs dropped. If it weren’t for Gale dragging his ass out of there the moment things had gone to shit, John would have been another one of the folks obliterated in their own home. He wouldn’t have even known what hit him, he thought.

Instead, he was granted the joy of sterile smelling bed sheets in his carefully furnished bedroom, thick metal walls and a stiff, uncomfortable jumpsuit.

“Suits you, at least.” He told Gale. They’d all gotten issued their things quickly and without much hassle. Not everyone who’d gotten a reservation through Vault-tec’s American Veteran plan had made it to the shelter. John was sure that the empty housing units would haunt him, once he got more familiar with the underground floor plan.

“Yeah, well, it’s better than nothing.” Nothing was what they’d shown up with. Gale had packed a small kit, though it was hiding in the linen closet, wedged between the wall and the lowest shelf. It was just precautionary, supposedly. But neither of them had thought to grab it on their way out.

John had gotten out of there with the skin on his back, barely having enough time to slip on the shoes he’d left out next to the coat rack. Normally Gale would have been on his ass about putting them away with the others, this time he didn’t say a word. Hardly mattered, anyway. They didn’t get to keep their clothes. John would have been hard pressed to miss the pair of boxers and t-shirt he’d walked in with.

“D’you think they’ve got a bar here?” John said. He sat on the sofa in his unit. It was stiff, he was sure the leather had never been sat on before. He could almost smell the factory-freshness of it cut through his stuffy haze.

Gale stood in the kitchenette, pulling open John’s cupboards and drawers. John hadn’t even bothered to look.

“No clue.” Gale shot him a look. “Get a soda.”

“It’s the goddamn apocalypse, Cleven.”

“Get two sodas, then.” Gale crouched down, fiddling with the knobs on the oven.

“You just want me to get you one.”

John didn’t move from his spot on the sofa. He slouched back, laying his head against the back of it. The bright fluorescent lights above his head were glaring. He wondered if there was a way to fix that.

“Y’alright?” Gale asked, still crouching. His knees rested against the dull grey concrete. John wondered how thick the metal beneath it was.

John hummed. He wasn’t sure what he was or what he wasn’t. With every inhale and exhale he felt the stretch of his jumpsuit, he hoped he could break it in fairly quickly. Maybe the old military tricks to soften his boots could help with this thing.

“Just thinking.” He said. “Whole lot to think about.”

“And a whole lot of time to do it.” Gale told him. John heard the patter of his boots as he crossed the room, coming to stand at the arm of the sofa. “Don’t gotta do it all right now.”

“Could have been us dropping those bombs, Gale.” John said anyway. “Could have been us.”

“But it wasn’t.” Gale dropped a hand to his shoulder. “We’re alright.”

“Wonder what happened to the pilots.”

“Maybe the Reds have their own vaults. And I bet they’re drinking Red Colas instead of thinking about some Americans hiding in their own hole in the ground.”

“You’re really caught up about that, huh?” John turned, looking Gale in the eye properly. Everything about the deep set of his light eyes was telling John that they shouldn’t go on with the conversation, that Gale was giving him the easiest outs he could take. “Glad we ended up in the same damn hole in the ground, Buck.”

“Like you wouldn’t have found your way in through some ventilation shaft, maybe you’d dig right through the walls.” Gale squeezed his shoulder. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something that’s more fun than staring at the ceiling.”

“Gonna have to get used to the ceilings in here, might as well start now.”

“Wise-ass. You’ve got time, you can do that later. Isn’t that the whole point of these things anyway?” Gale held out a hand, which John took, letting himself be pulled off of the sofa. Gale gave him a pat on the back, “C’mon. Maybe they’ve got smokes in this joint, just make sure you do it next to the vent or something.”

Gale made good points. Though they were solid reminders that John wouldn’t feel the wind through his hair for another, what? Ten, fifteen years? When they opened the doors back up, he wondered if there’d even be planes out there to fly. More likely than not, the America he knew was gone.

He’d joined the military for his country, at first. He’d stayed for men like Buck. For Buck, he thought sometimes. Well, if he couldn’t have America then by god he’d keep Gale.

~

[blankweiss-sb]

Gift "Drabble"

For @hiding-in-the-vault

TW: Prison Arc + Post Prison, references to torture and eye removal

Summary: Eventually, Dream found a cave and hunkered down. He didn’t dare making a fire pit, didn’t know whether he could, but it would surely reveal his position. Instead he curled up in the warmest, most wind-safe spot he could find – and slept.

Or

Dream doesn't escape unscathed – mentally or physically.

The red stone pistons fired, the deep grumble distinctive from the ever present hissing of the lava. Dream didn’t dare lift his head or move his cheeks from the grimy, sticky floor of his cell.

Rule number whatever: Either be on your knees head bowed, or you better not have moved from the position Sir left you in.

Was Dream slightly bitter that even thinking Sir immediately called up an image of Quackity and tides of fear and anger? Yes. Would he show that bitterness? No. (Maybe Quackity would think he’d finally broken Dream but he hadn’t. Dream wasn’t quite broken yet, just brittle and fractured. If – when he got out, he’d just pour gold into all those cracks.)

Faintly, Dream heard it – the rustle of small feathers that could be crushed so very easily, the tapping of fingers against the wooden handle of a tool or weapon and a slight hum, the hum of a song Sap had loved. The lava curtains gurgled – please, red stone, fail, a moment of weakness gave itself a voice – before it fizzled out.

Sir bounced into the cell.

“Hullo, Dreamie, how are you? Comfy?”

Dream knew better than to answer. Quackity didn’t care, he just loved the sound of his voice too much. If Dream was lucky, Quackity would gloat, maybe kick Dream a couple of times and leave. That, Dream could endure, he could endure anything, anything but –

Fingertips stroked along the curve of Dream’s face, the one not pressed against crying obsidian and sticky maroon, and it was only the terrors of existence that prevented Dream from flinching. But nothing could have prevented Dream’s throat from releasing a whine when Quackity gently carded through Dream’s hair, almost petting him like a beloved dog.

“Awww, you’re doing good but being greedy, I see.”

Fuck you. Fuck you, Quackity, Dream thought as his head leaned into the comforting touch Sir was offering. It was his body seeking comfort, not Dream. It was his body being pathetic, wanting his torturer to be gentle. It was his body. Not Dream.

“You can be cute. But that’s not why I’m here, not today, puppy!” Don’t call me that. “I’m giving you a gift, look –“

Quackity burst out in little giggles, giggles Sapnap used to gush about. Sapnap had called them more adorable than a baby piglin. Dream had teased him about that, by that time already missing George pressed against his side and joining in on the fun. Teasing his brother had always been one of Dream’s favorite things and George loved to needle Sapnap, too.

A sharp of burst ripped through Dream’s skull as Quackity’s hand grabbed his hair tightly and pulled Dream up until Dream’s scalp was burning. “Listen to me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Two, three seconds more and Quackity let Dream’s head fall, huffing.

“And here I was about to clean you up, wash you, but no. You had to be bad. A bad puppy.” Dream flinched and Quackity’s laugh was more than delighted, echoing between obsidian walls. “Anyway, here you go, you’re going to need this.”

Something cold settled on Dream’s face and – comfort washed over Dream as he realized it was the cold porcelain of a mask, a mask Dream knew quite well. Greedily he sucked in some air and through the stale scent of copper coils and bracken water and burnt out embers, he caught a whiff of earthy flowers.

(“Earthy flowers? Are you serious?” Dream had laughed, pressing his shoulders against Sapnap’s. George had already been snoring, his legs hanging over Sapnap’s lap and his head nuzzling Dream’s stomach.

“Man, you asked me how you were smelling. Earthy flowers. Deal with it, it’s sort of disgusting.” But the tips of Sapnap’s ears had been a brilliant red.

“Someone’s lying~ But that’s ok. I like your hearth embers and George’s bark and petrichor, too.”

“Pe – tri – chor,” Sapnap had mocked. Yet he had relaxed into Dream and – they had slept, together and bonds untorn.)

It was Dream’s mask, not a replica, but his own.

Despite this meaning nothing good, Dream sank into old comfort. The safe feeling was soured by Quackity once again running his hands through Dream’s hair. “Things are going to get exciting,” he crowed, no, that’d be an insult to the death goddess and her harbringers, Quackity quacked. “Better to keep a few things mysterious, right? I’ll be generous and let you rest up.”

Dream didn’t know what Quackity meant until the next day when the pistons fired up and someone swaggered over the bridge. The bars slammed down, Techno grunted as he sprung the trap and it clicked in Dream’s mind.

Time passed.

Sir didn’t enter the prison.

How Techno didn’t realize one tiny but largely important fact was beyond Dream but he couldn’t help being grateful.

How Dream managed to escape with Technoblade was also beyond him.

(Sir had managed to shatter Dream – after Technoblade vanished. Sir had not only dug into all the cracks he’d made but also ensured that not even respawning would ever give back Dream’s sight. There had been a slight, incredibly miniscule chance that Dream could have regained his eye sight but… hard to do that without the vital part of eye sight.

Sir had left Dream cold and raw and – there had been moments.

Dream had even hallucinated at one point, must have imagined trembling hands cleaning him up, a lullaby he hadn’t heard since he was ten being sobbed against his ears and a determined vow being seared against his temple. The voice had sounded like Bad, but Bad hated him, guarded him even, offered suggestions like Dream’s loathing of being alone in the dark to Sir. )

“I refuse. You have done more than enough, he can look after himself now.” The coldness in Philza’s screech was more than biting, was cutting when Technoblade didn’t refute his statement.

Once again Dream’s weakness took over and he wasted a minute on hope, begged Technoblade without the right words or gestures but surely, surely Technoblade picked up on it – “See ya later, nerd, stay safe.”

I’m not seeing anything, settled heavy on Dream’s tongue but – Philza was there, feathers scraping against wooden planks. He must be flaring his wings before refolding them. Rinse and repeat.

It wasn’t pride stopping Dream from saying those words. It was Caution. Philza already was irritated with Dream – Dream, objectively, had harmed the man’s family greatly and in various ways. And in an altercation, there was no world in which Technoblade wouldn’t side with Philza.

So Dream bowed, once, the proper Admin way, and darted off into the forest, barely hearing a sudden intake of breath behind him, probably Philza’s. Technoblade wasn’t an Admin, he wouldn’t have known what Dream’s bow had meant.

They didn’t chase after him, anyways.

That first night Dream almost died five times.

The server refused to reconnect to him – a weak Admin was something no World wanted, vulnerability was undesired – and so Dream had to trust his ears and nose, rather than an innate sense of the World.

Twice the rattling of Skeleton bones was barely enough to get ready for the screeching of arrows flying through the air and aiming directly at Dream’s heart. Muscle memory was, thankfully, enough for Dream to land crits against the Skeletons, even though his own frame didn’t differ much from the Skeletons.

Once a zombie almost ripped into Dream’s leg and would have infected him. Dream was already on the ground, having tripped over a root and landing on a patch of ice that sent him careening through the snow. He’d been contemplating just curling up and sleeping when the zombie fell over him. A kick and crit had taken care of the zombie.

Twice, the environment itself, the World – hadn’t that smarted – had turned against him, giving him no warnings as ravines opened up in front of him. Only hearing the echo of stones crumbling and falling, falling, falling before the unbreakable hit the bottom and shattered into a thousand pieces not even gold could glue back together had warned him.

Eventually, Dream found a cave and hunkered down. He didn’t dare making a fire pit, didn’t know whether he could, but it would surely reveal his position. Instead he curled up in the warmest, most wind-safe spot he could find – and slept.

That first night ended and his first day in freedom dawned – judging from the birdsong sneaking through the tree leaves and into Dream’s cave.

Dream didn’t have the energy to stand up.

More hallucinations haunted his sleep – if it was sleep. His body felt too heavy, his thoughts too hazy for him to be sleeping but – at one point, the hallucination of Bad took root in his mind. Dream heard Bad coo, felt Bad heave him into a bed that Dream certainly hadn’t made, cried while Bad tucked him and drew covers tight around him.

“Sleep tight, good dreams will arrive, cupcake,” the hallucination’s voice quivered as rough, scarred fingers slipped underneath Dream’s mask and tugged it off. The hallucination wanted to card through Dream’s hair and it did, detangling the knots, casting Dream’s drifty mind back to the days of happiness and – “Shh, Clay. I’ll protect you, don’t worry.”

Dream wailed, his throat giving out on him. All the while, the hallucination kept touching him, gently, like Bad loved him, like Bad was here, like Bad cared.

(Love and care were two different shoes. Surely, Sapnap and George still loved Dream but they had shown that they didn’t care for him.)

(Dream was forgetting something. Or someone. Heat was lancing through his brain, pain a deliberating force on everything that was him. How his mind still had enough force to call upon a hallucination with the ability to mimic the sensation of touch he didn’t know. But there was someone else, an agenda, Dream was forgetting.)

(Clay hated getting sick, not only because he couldn’t play with Pandas but because he couldn’t help demanding attention. To be fair, Bad would always give it to him.

“I’m dying,” Clay sobbed, writhing against the covers Bad had forced him under. “It’s too hot, it hurts, I am dying!”

“Shh, you silly, silly cupcake.” Bad chuckled, gently stroking over Clay’s head. Those fingers were so good, they spanned half his head and… Bad was starting to mindlessly but gently tug at all of Clay’s knots, tutting whenever another appeared in the long locks of Clay’s hair. “You’ll be ok, I’m here.”

Whenever Bad acted like this, Clay could pretend that Bad wasn’t only Pandas’ Dad but also his own, and fierce, fierce love wrecked Clay’s body together with the many illnesses he suffered.

One day, one day Clay would create a server for them, for Bad and Pandas and himself and anyone else he loved. He knew he was strong enough, as were his convictions and dreams.)

Energy trickled back into Dream, day by day. The hallucination stayed, far longer than Dream expected it to, offering comfort and safety and the weakness was too strong. Dream, shamefully, gave in.

Until one day the rustle of wings, the wind whistling through feathers just outside his and his hallucination’s cave broke the spell.

“Mate?”

Not Sir, not Sir at all but –

“Get out.” His hallucination growled and the air pulsed with heat and old power – and there was no way that Dream’s stitched together mind could have replicate Bad’s aura when he was pissed and protecting someone. (Someone, not something, an important distinction.)

“Bad Boy Halo, I –“

“Leave before I make you leave. You offered no help, worse, you rejected sanctuary.”

“I didn’t know.”

Bad snorted and responded. Philza said words as well but – Dream had already lost the thread, his mind fuzzy with realizations and too full, too broken to comprehend anything. Until –

“Had I known he was blind and a baby Admin, he wouldn’t have left my house!” Feathers hit the stone walls. Or did feathers scrape along obsidian, crying in sync with the dripping walls? Sir was back, wasn’t he –

Scarred hands cradled Dream’s cheeks and a pair of leathery wings sneaked around and under Dream’s frame. The hands didn’t move. They just held his face and provided an anchor for his mind.

“Bad…” How to say the things he had to say, how to ask questions, how –

Dream’s head is pressed to a dark throat and his breath hitched. Too often Dream had been in this position whenever the world got too big, or he got too big for the world and it bared its fangs at him. Being settled against the thrum of Bad’s heart hadn’t rightened all the wrongs in the world but it had always – always – made them manageable.

“I’m here, Dream. Don’t you worry.”

Dream believed him and let himself fall into trust.

One more time.

[radiaking]

Bomb day drabble pt. 2

His mind is racing, as fast as the horse beneath him is, a million considerations made in seconds. Though each thought, half formed, scrambled, seems more futile than the last. It all hits him now the gravity of it all, the reality he hadn’t wanted to face, clinging to some shred of hope in humanity. In his wife’s ability to talk sense in someone, anyone, to stop all of this.

There’s no point in trying to make it back to his home—the go-bag he’d put together for him and Janey hadn’t accounted for this. Four bombs and counting and still he doesn’t know where to go. Where could possibly be safe enough for something like this? He doesn’t think about the fact that he knows there’s not supposed to be somewhere safe. No one is supposed to survive any of this.

But he has to, he thinks as he just keeps on riding, clinging still with one arm around Janey’s small frame. He can’t just give up, can’t just crawl into an early grave already. He’ll ride as far and as fast as he can—away, just away—east and out of the city. His military training taught him enough to know, no matter what the goals of an attack, population centers and resources are the first targets. So he decides to head as far away from either as he can get.

He doesn’t even have time to think of next steps as he reaches the main streets again and two blue vans, yellow Vault-Tec emblems adorning their sides, cut him off. Sugarfoot lurches to a stop before she reels back on her hind legs. “Woah, woah, easy girl.” He tries to soothe her, pulling tight on the reins as several men, some armed, exit the vans wearing what resembles police riot gear.

He can hear Janey begin to cry out asking him what’s happening, who are these people, as they quickly surround them. His grip around Janey tightens more as he turns this way and that atop Sugarfoot, the Vault-Tec people closing in.

“Give us the girl,” one of them says to him, their voice muffled behind the face guard of their helmet. “We’re here to escort you to your Vault, Mr. Howard.”

“No, no, we’re not assigned to any vault,” Cooper replies, shouting over the sounds of distant sirens, car horns blaring as people try uselessly to flee.

“Mrs. Howard sent us to escort you. Hand us the girl so we can get you both to safety.” Despite his hatred of Vault-Tec, his distrust in them, he knows Barb would never put Janey’s life in danger—whether they see eye to eye or not, he knows everything she’s done has been for Janey’s sake. Yet he hesitates still. Barb he trusts, in this one thing if nothing else, but not Vault-Tec.

“We’ll follow along!” He shouts down at them, but he can tell immediately they won’t allow this.

“Please, Mr. Howard. We have to move quickly, hand us the girl,” the man shouts back at him, taking a step forward, hands outstretched toward Janey. But Cooper tugs the reins again, moving backward away from him. He attempts to turn, to flee, but is met with a gun pointed at him from another Vault-Tec hired hand.

“Now, Mr. Howard. We have our orders to escort you both.”

All of this is wasting precious time—being out and exposed to whatever radiation and other chemicals can’t be good for any of them. So he decides to put his reservations aside. It’s too late anyway. Whatever hope he had that it wasn’t going to be this bad is gone. All that matters now is getting Janey to safety.

“Okay, all right,” Cooper says to the men. Janey immediately begins to cry out, the confusion of everything finally too much for her. “It’s okay baby girl, we’re gonna go with these men to see your mama, okay? It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” he assures her as he gets down off the horse.

Then he reaches up to her and she slides from the horse into his waiting arms. “There we go, it’s okay,” he says, holding her tightly to his chest. Turning back to the guards, he nods. “Okay, let’s go.”

They nod back, but Cooper misses the looks exchanged amongst them as he walks toward one of the vans. When they’re just a few steps from the door, he lets Janey down to her feet, though clings tightly to her hand. It’s not until he feels a hand on his shoulder, firm, strong, painful, that he knows he’s screwed up.

“Take her,” the voice from behind him says as another man in front grab’s Janey’s other arm. Cooper is only just able to throw his free arm around her protectively before yet another man joins the one already behind him.

“Daddy!” Janey shouts as the guard tugs on her arm. He tries to reassure her, but in the same breath, both men behind him each grab one of his arms, tearing him away from her as she cries out to him.

“Go, get her in the van,” the one behind him says again, a deep, commanding voice the second they wrench her from his grasp. The other wastes no time in heeding his orders, picking her up and jumping into the van. He can still hear her shouting for him, screaming, sobbing as the door slams shut.

“You son of a bitch where are you taking her!?” Cooper shouts, turning around to face the leader. “Tell me where they’re taking her!” And as he shouts, he grabs the man by the neck of the bullet proof vest he’s wearing.

The other guard jumps into action then, seizing Cooper again from behind, trying to pull him off his comrade. Cooper elbows him in the head, sending him careening backward. The guard he’s still gripping by the vest moves his gun to aim it at Cooper, but he’s quicker, and he reaches for it too. As they wrestle for control, a shot goes off and he feels the other man go limp, body sagging heavily, falling to the ground, the inside of the plastic face shield splattered with blood.

It’s not the first life he’s ever taken—he served many years in the Marines and unfortunately, there’s been blood on his hands for years now. But not like this. He stands, gun held loosely at his side, his hands shaking, ears ringing and he doesn’t know whether it’s from the gun going off, the noise of it, or shock. Either way it’s enough for him to not notice until it’s too late as the other man jumps in the other Vault-Tec van and takes off.

In the scuffle, Sugarfoot has run off, but he sees her in the distance and runs to her, calling out for her to come back. Luckily, she’s well trained and more used to loud noises than most horses would be and she lets him approach. She’s agitated still, he can tell, but he hops on her once more and like the dutiful animal she is, she sets off at a sprint at his command in the direction of the van that has Janey.

He rides as fast as he can, but the van only gets further and further away until he can no longer see it in the distance. Still he rides, heading toward his wife’s office, not knowing where else to go; it’s the only Vault-Tec building he knows of. When he gets there, however, he finds the building leveled, but not by some nuclear blast. No, it’s as though someone collapsed it on purpose, which he realizes then, they probably did. Already they’re trying to bury the evidence of their hand in all of this.

He climbs down off Sugarfoot again, mind and body numb, stumbling toward the remains of the building. Where the front doors should be, he collapses onto his knees, helpless, lost and begins to cry. Losing his career, his reputation, his marriage, none of that matters, it never did, because he still had Janey, he still had his little girl. Now? Now he has nothing.

Whether it’s exhaustion or some effect of the bombs, shortly after, he passes out face down outside the building where his life first started to crumble around him, the beginning of the end. Figures this would be where it all comes to a final conclusion, right where it began, full circle.