#space themed char

[umbraastaff]

barry bluejeans...

[celestialmancer]

...Highkey was not. Expecting this one ramble I wrote of Ishtar to end up digging into some really personal vulnerabilities around my own.

...But. After several months of wanting to start opening the doors to rambling on these things (& chickening out) I finally. Got things down.

[ichorai]

ménage à trois.

pairing ; lestat de lioncourt x vampire!gn!reader x louis de pointe du lac

synopsis ; “you turned him,” you said to lestat with a disapproving frown. louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “you were always the selfish one, weren’t you? i could never have anything for myself.”

words ; 3.8k

themes ; angst, a bit of fluff, vampires, polyamory

warnings / includes ; super toxic throuple dynamics, blood/murder, covers the first two episodes of iwtv, reader is a writer, louis is infatuated <3 and lestat is well... lestat...

there will be a second part (claudia incoming)!

You met Lestat de Lioncourt in 1780—six years after he was turned, and three years after you. It was a wild and tumultuous affair the two of you shared. You and Lestat clashed just as much as you molded together. While he was possessive and greedy, you longed for freedom and space. Eventually, after many bloody rows, the two of you parted ways with reluctant, half-sincere promises of a distant reunion. 

Louis de Pointe du Lac was yours before he was Lestat’s, as he oft forgot. By 1908, you were a regular patron of his establishment in New Orleans—though less for the sex and more for the stories. The women there were immeasurably fascinating. With enough liquor and sweet talking, they would answer each and every burning question you had. When Louis caught wind of one of his customers bringing pencils and parchment of all things to the bedrooms, he’d confronted you about it, curious as to what you were doing to the working girls—especially when they always came out flush-faced and giggling.

“I’m a writer,” you told him with a sweet smile. Close-lipped, hiding your fangs. “I hope you don’t mind. The women here have lovely tales to tell.”

Louis returned the grin after a second to overcome his surprise. “I’m sure they do. Why here, though?”

“Your establishment has the highest rates of colored women. Not many are willing to listen to what they have to say.” You fiddled with the buttons on your jacket, and tipped your head down into a nod. “I’d best be leaving. The night is late, and the sun will greet us soon.”

“Not a morning person?” Louis asked, falling into step with you as you made your way to your convertible.

A huff of a laugh fell past your lips. “You could say that, yes.”

From then on, Louis went out of his way to greet you like clockwork. Every Wednesday and Saturday you came, bright-eyed and pencil ready. Those days, Louis watched you come by nightfall and leave before morning dawned, always making sure to exchange pleasantries. One of the nights, you asked if he had any stories to tell you—though there was little talking or writing that night. It was hard to jot down what he was telling you with his head between your thighs.

You were, by no means, a possessive vampire. You liked to keep your options open and drift from place to place. But around a year and a half later, you heard of Lestat landing in New Orleans, sucking the furniture stores and libraries dry—and setting his eyes on Louis. Your Louis.

You and Louis were not lovers, and the same would apply to your and Lestat’s relationship. You would say you were far closer to being friends with the two than lovers. Though… the prospect of love was not a far away concept to you. Not when it came to Lestat and Louis.

“You turned him,” you said to Lestat with a disapproving frown. Louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. Lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that Louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “You were always the selfish one, weren’t you? I could never have anything for myself.”

“I’m sorry, did I spoil your little toy?” Lestat said, leering over you with a grin.

“He wasn’t a toy. He’s a friend.”

The blonde vampire’s hands reached out to caress over your face, soft and cold. “A friend that you fucked.”

“On occasion.” Your nose wrinkled. “You fucked him, too.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. It would have surprised you if Lestat hadn’t fucked Louis.

“Don’t be jealous, my darling,” he said, eyes glinting dangerously. “I’ll fuck you, as well. You need only ask. It has been a long while, no?” 

He kissed you then, tasting of sweet blood and sharp wine. As angry as you were with him, you didn’t push him away. With Lestat, it was hard to say no. That morning, you fell asleep in his coffin, limbs woven together. Come sunset, you were already gone.

It took you a few days to get around to forgiving Lestat. Louis made you softer—his inexperience to vampire life was ever so endearing to you. When you explained to Louis that you were also a vampire—one with a deep history with his maker, he stared at you with widened eyes.

“It’s no wonder I never saw you during the day,” he said, Lestat’s arm slung around his shoulder. “But why didn’t you kill any of my girls? How could you resist it?”

“Older vampires find it easier to resist temptation,” you told him with a dangerous, fanged smile. “Besides—I wanted their stories more than I wanted their blood. I can find food… elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Louis glanced between you and Lestat, the first thought vanishing from his mind just as quickly as it came. “Wait, were you two—did you… did he turn you, too?”

A bark of a laugh fell from your lips. “Oh, Louis, my dear, no. Lestat may have left hundreds and thousands of fledglings in his bloody wake but I am not one of them. My turning will be a story for another time,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Louis smiled and nodded as if he was in a daze. To his side, Lestat looked visibly annoyed. Whether he was jealous of you or Louis, you couldn’t tell.

Sharing is caring, you greedy whore, you said to him without moving your lips. Lestat only stared at you with those icy blue eyes and huffed out a dramatic sigh.

“Well, since the fledgling has already taken a liking to you, would you like to stay?” Lestat gestured around his decorated halls. “There is more than enough room here for three coffins.”

As always, saying no to Lestat was usually not an option. 

“You could just say you’d like me here. Don’t have to be dragging Louis into it,” you told him, patting his chest with a mocking simper.

“Yes, yes, fine—I’d like you to stay, as well. I’ve missed you terribly.” Lestat moved closer to you as if he was going to kiss you, but you leaned away at the last moment and grinned at Louis.

“Louis, hon, how about we get a nice fire started and you tell me all about what mean ol’ Lestat did to you the first few hours of your turning? I love hearing about new vampire experiences. It’s been so long I can hardly remember mine.” You offered Louis your arm and gestured to the living room. The man looked to Lestat, almost as if asking for permission, but turned away just as quickly to take your arm. 

Louis, in his hunger and youth, had impulsively killed an important man in town. Lestat had already angrily berated him enough whilst tossing the body into the cremator. You were more gentle with your approach, taking Louis’ hands and goading him to wash the blood off and change into a new set of clothes that weren’t soaked with his kill.

The amusing thought that you and Lestat were raising a child and parenting together briefly crossed your mind. But then again, the two of you had both fucked Louis before and were most definitely going to again in the future, so perhaps it wasn’t the best analogy. 

“Here, put this on.” you handed Louis, stripped naked and scrubbed of the blood, a fresh button-down whilst Lestat was off cleaning up the mess Louis had made. “That was real dangerous what you did back there, you know. You’ll get detectives sniffing around and swarming you like ants to a honey pot. They don’t take kindly to black folk, neither.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging on the shirt. “I was hungry.”

“I know,” you parroted, though your tone was considerably softer. You placed your cold palm against Louis’ face and he leaned into it for a few silent moments. “Just be more careful next time, alright? Lestat and I have centuries of experience between us—you can trust us.”

Louis’ face contorted at the realization. “Sometimes I forget that this is gon’ be forever. That I won’t just wake up and you two will be gone. That I’ll be human again and my brother will still be around and my ma would still be asking me to come over to her house for dinner every Sunday.”

“Forever isn’t always a bad thing,” you said, voice soft and soothing. “It is daunting, yes, but you still live from day to day just as the mortals do. You’ll grow more comfortable in your skin with time, I promise.” You hesitated to say the next few sentences. “Lestat, as much as you admire his strength, is just as afraid as you sometimes. He’s afraid of being lonely. I confess, I have been afraid to be lonely more than once myself, but I have made peace with the fact that I will be alone sometimes. Immortal life makes it inevitable. My point is, though… you aren’t alone. Lestat is not as godly as you think he is.”

“And are you?” Louis asked.

“Do you think of me as godly?” 

One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “Most of the time.”

“I’m still a person,” you reassured him. “Lost to time, perhaps, but a person nonetheless. And you are, too.”

Your words seemed to placate Louis, though only momentarily. He parted his mouth open to say more, but Lestat dramatically stormed in the room, expression still creased with anger. After decades upon decades of knowing him, you knew by now that he would get over it eventually—it wasn’t really that big of a deal. But Louis, quite shaken up by the kill and his maker furious with him, couldn’t shrug it off as easily as you. The two of them went to their respective coffins angrily. 

Hours later, whilst you were writing up drafts of your most recent discussions with a few townspeople, you heard the two of them quietly exchange words of apology and plans for the future from their coffins. You smiled down to yourself. The romance between them was strong, you knew. You wondered if you ever had the same connection with Lestat. Or even Louis. You were growing quite fond of him. And you’d always been fond of Lestat, even though he irritated you to no end. 

When Louis bought the most expensive, the biggest, and the brightest club in the district, he made sure to pay all the working girls and musicians twice what they earned before. The doors were now open to anyone, not just folks with light skin. And he even had a room especially booked for you—always decked with the finest pencils and pens and papers and books and the most heavenly chairs imaginable—Louis was a man who thought out your every need. It startled you to think that your fondness for him may be far greater than just fondness. How would Lestat feel about you falling in love with his fledgling? Louis was yours first. And before that, you and Lestat were also each other’s for a time.

With Louis still at the club entertaining guests, Lestat heard your thoughts as soon as you returned from your work—you didn’t bother hiding your mind from him, because he had ways of getting information out of you regardless. 

“I don’t mind,” he said, greeting you as you changed out of your attire into more comfortable clothes for home. He hung by the doorway for a moment before slinking closer to you, running his hands up and down your bare skin. “We can share, my love. I don’t mind—not with you. And I’m sure Louis wouldn’t mind sharing you with me.”

“Rather presumptuous of you,” you replied.

“Not presumptuous if you’re thinking it,” Lestat said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then several more up your neck. “Don’t resist us. It can be the three of us together. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“There’s a reason I left you in the first place,” you whispered. “You are possessive and mean when you want to be.”

Lestat tilted your face so his lips hovered just an inch over yours. “That may be true… but you’ll stay for Louis.” 

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you better than anyone undead or alive.

“I will.” 

“Good,” he said, and then kissed you as if he was going to devour you whole.

Many moons later, you walked into one of the house’s many bedrooms, about to enquire if either of the vampires had seen your notebook lying around anywhere, when you saw Louis lying on the bed, tears of red slipping down his face. Lestat dabbed the blood away with a napkin.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a concerned tone, sitting down next to him on the mattress opposite Lestat. 

“My nephew,” Louis practically spat out the words as if they had scorched his tongue. “I was so afraid I would… I could hear his heart—his tiny little heart—and I wanted to rip it out and eat it. I’m a monster.”

There was a moment of silence as you studied the young fledgling.

“If you’re a monster, what does that make me?” you whispered, leaning down to press your nose to the back of his ear. “You didn’t kill him, Louis.”

“No, but I could have.” Another bloody tear slipped down his eye and slotted against his nose bridge.

Whilst Lestat wiped his face again, he said, “You have to stop seeing them, Louis. They’ll grow fearful of you if they haven’t already.”

“No,” said Louis, voice hoarse and quiet. “I can’t do it.”

“It’s a rite of passage for all of us,” Lestat went on. “If you love your family, as I know you do, spare them all the pain that you are causing them.” Knowing Lestat’s relationship with his mother, you found his words quite ironic. Louis didn’t need to know about that right now, though. 

“My siblings spent many decades looking for me once I ‘disappeared’,” you told Louis. “It hurt to distance myself from them, but I was protecting them.”

Louis glanced up at you. Sitting with your back to the lit fireplace, there seemed to be an angelic glow framing you. “I didn’t know you have siblings.”

“Had,” you corrected. “They are long gone now, though many of their children’s children and further generations remain. They lived long and happy lives even after I left.”

“I ain’t never gonna have a family of my own, am I?” Louis lamented. “No sons, no daughters.”

It was silent for a moment when you and Lestat locked eyes. The blonde looked back down at his fledgling. “We’re your family, Louis.”

“You should just throw me in the incinerator,” said Louis. “Make another one.”

“What a waste that would be,” Lestat remarked.

You nodded. “And if he did, I would rip him apart limb from limb. You are not replaceable, Louis.”

“The both of us have been on this Earth for around two centuries and we can confidently report that you have no twin,” said Lestat. “No one as angry, as stubborn, as unaccommodating, as maddening—”

Louis frowned. “Sound like trash to me—”

“—as loving, as dedicated, as thoughtful, as imperfectly perfect as you’ve become. You’re a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis. We’d have it no other way.” Lestat waited a second before nudging you to agree with him.

“Yes,” you jumped to say, perhaps a second late. “Louis, hon, I don’t want to force you not to see your family. You’re free to tell them the truth if you’d like. Let them see you as a monster, as a murderer—because they certainly won’t see you in the same way we do. I’m just saying… letting them go may be the less painful option.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply. Though he said nothing, you knew that he knew you were right. 

“Here’s an idea… let’s take a holiday,” ventured Lestat. “What about Rome?”

“Rome sounds lovely,” you said with an excited grin. It had been a handful of decades since you last stepped in Europe. Most of your recent years had you traveling much of North and South America.

“Rome? Rome, like, Italy?” Louis said, cracking an eye open to scrutinize his lovers. 

“Would you prefer Rome, Wisconsin?” Lestat fired back, which made Louis sit up on the bed and shake his head.

“I can’t just pick up and go to Rome. I got a business to run!”

You snaked your arms around Louis from behind and pressed your nose into his neck. You could hear his thoughts of how nice you smelled and smiled against his skin. “I’m sure you have many trusted work buddies that can manage the Azalea for a few days.”

Louis and Lestat bickered some more about transporting the coffins after that, as if they were an old married couple. You only listened in amusement and kissed down Louis' jaw.

Finally, Lestat relented his plans of Rome and instead brandished tickets to another opera. 

“I can spend a few days apart from the two of you to go to Rome myself,” you said, arching your back as if you were a cat and sprawling down on the mattress to watch Louis and Lestat upside down. “I can bring back souvenirs. The Italians have the most divine oil paints—”

“Don’t go,” Louis blurted, interrupting you. “Don’t—not yet.”

For a moment, you studied him with curious eyes. His thoughts were telling you he wasn’t sure if he could handle being left on his own with Lestat without you. Codependency was a common trait amongst vampire couples, you knew this, but that didn’t mean it was at all healthy. Nonetheless, you reluctantly nodded. “Alright. I won’t leave. But we do have to get out of the country at some point—it’s important to see more than America, Louis.”

“With that, I concur,” Lestat chimed his agreement. Then, he seized both of your arms and began to drag you off the mattress until you laughed and twisted up to get onto your feet yourself. “Come, my darlings, I’ve had suits made for us.”

There was a methodology to going to the opera to keep eyes off of you. You would go in first, alone. Then Lestat, with Louis walking a pace behind him, masquerading as his valet. It was degrading, all three of you knew. But it was the early 1900s, and there was little more you could do without drawing attention from passersby. 

Though the opera was a cheap affair, you were considerably entertained until the tenor entered the stage and began to sing all the wrong notes. To your ears, which were sharp, but not suited to the intricacies of musical notes, his singing was strangely off but still fine. To Lestat, however, he was not at all amused. His jaw muscles clenched and his fingers curled and uncurled over the sheet music he had brought. One glance his way and you already knew he had made his mind on who would be that evening’s supper.

Hours later, when Lestat had taken the young singer to your hotel room, you wondered if he was planning on simply fucking some sense into him before biting into his throat. Instead, Lestat sat down by the piano and played the notes, forcing the singer to sing. He pointed out each and every flaw, tone growing harsher with each mistake. 

Louis watched the two with a nauseous stomach and an uneasy mind. You tried to pull him away to another room, tried to kiss him until he forgot about Lestat and his fixation on the poor man, but Louis’ mind was adrift.

“Louis, this is meant to be a vacation,” you reminded him, massaging your fingers over his tense shoulders.

“How can it be a vacation when he’s in the other room about to murder some guy for a note he sang offkey?” Louis asked, a tad too loudly for your preference.

“Lestat gets this way sometimes. You know this by now. He gets angry, he gets sucked in, he gets tunnel vision until something is done exactly how he wants it to be done. It doesn’t affect us, though, not really. Dinner is dinner, Louis.”

Louis crossed his arms. “You have animals for dinner most of the time. And you kill people who deserve it. Lestat, he just—that man could have a family, a whole life ahead of him!”

“The same could be said for the people I’ve killed,” you replied easily.

“No, no, it’s different!” he vehemently said. “You killed the rapists, the child-fiddlers, and even the slave-owners back when they were still around! Lestat, he—”

“I know,” you said, tone firm. “Louis, I know.”

“Do you, though?” Louis shook his head in incredulity at your nonchalance and walked back into the main room where Lestat had just struck the young tenor across his vocal cords, destroying them beyond repair. “Why do you do this, Lestat?”

The blonde licked the blood off his fingers. “Well, I like to do it. I enjoy it.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Louis. “You don’t have to humiliate him like that.”

In a burst of outrage, Lestat yelled, “Well, I don’t say that you have to enjoy it! Kill them swiftly if you have to, but do it! Embrace what you are! You are a killer, Louis!”

You walked into the room at that, brows furrowed. “Will you two stop it? All this yelling and drama—this was meant to be a vacation!”

“How can it be a vacation when we haven’t even left this damned country?” Lestat bitterly replied. “I should have gone to Italy with you and left Louis here to scavenge through corpses until he rotted away.”

“You don’t mean that,” you angrily said, volume rising. “You’ve had decades to temper your anger issues, and yet you haven’t changed a single bit!”

Lestat raised his nose in defiance, picked up the tenor (who had crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap), and swiftly carried him to the couch where he would slowly drain him of his blood. Louis took to sitting and watching the dying man’s last thoughts. A part of you wondered why, if he was so horrified by Lestat's cruelty, did he bother to stay and watch—though you didn’t stick around to ask. Instead, you retired to the bedchambers without saying goodbye to either of them. Lestat left you a chalice of the singer’s blood by your coffin as an apology of sorts, but it was left untouched. 

[lovebugcody]

i changed where i want my falling icarus tattoo from my thigh to the back of my left shoulder like imagine the melting wax wing wrapping around my shoulder

[adrienneleclerc]

The “Affair”

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina Wife! Reader

Summary: After adopting 8 dogs, Charles tells his wife no more dogs. However, as a veterinarian working in an animal shelter, it’s very hard for Y/N to turn down a dog. So when she comes home with a puppy while Charles is away but tries to make it seem like she had an affair…getting a 9th dog doesn’t sound so bad, right?

Warning: the usual spelling and grammatical errors, probably a lot of inaccuracies

A/N: i love Salma Hayek and the story she tells about rescuing Ochoa is so funny.

When Charles and Y/N first started dating when they were 20, he knew how much she loved dogs. The first time he went to her apartment, he saw her with two German shepherds.

“Muñeco! Please meet Sirius and Nova.” Y/N said, walking up to Charles, the two dogs following her.

"When you told me you had dogs, I don’t know why, but I pictured you owning like a shih tzu or maybe a Maltese.” Charles admitted, observing the German shepherds who began sniffing him.

“Why? You think because I am Latina I must have a white crusty dog?” Y/N asked, acting all offended.

“No no no, of course not.” Charles responded scared that me might have offended his girlfriend.

“I’m teasing. No, I got them from the shelter. You know how I’m studying to become a vet? So right now I’m just a vet assistant at the shelter and when I walked in for my shift, these two dogs tried to get close to me, they would whine when I would leave the room, when I would take them outside for their walks, they would follow me, I had to adopt them. No one likes getting big dogs from the shelter, pero son tan lindos.” Y/N said, petting her dogs, the dogs were wagging their tails, enjoying the affection. Charles's heart melted. He always wanted his own dog and by the looks of it, he might get his wish with Y/N.

"How did you come up with the names?" Charles asked.

"Well obviously Sirius is named after Sirius Black from Harry Potter, and Nova to fit the space theme. Since they were picked up from the street without collars, we named them at the shelter." Y/N said. Charles leaned down to pet the dogs. Nova began licking his face while Sirius was still smelling him, you know what they say about a male dog being owned by a woman. After a few seconds, Sirius joined Nova in licking him, Charles was as happy as he can be.

"They are so friendly! Think I'll be able to stay the night?" Charles asked.

"I don't know, Char, you just joined F1, shouldn't you be training?" Y/N asked.

"I have a few days before the Monaco Grand Prix, do you want to come?" Charles asked.

"I don't know if I can leave Nova and Sirius alone." Y/N asked.

"It's only a few hours, please?" Charles asked with a pout and puppy dog eyes.

"Fine, I'll see if my neighbor can check in on them." Y/N said and her and Charles kissed.

A year later, 2019, Charles joined Scuderia Ferrari and he was on his way to Y/N's apartment after he rested a day after the Suzuka Grand prix. He opened the door with the key she gave him and he heard barking.

"Nova, Sirius, its me, you know me." Charles entered the apartment, the two German Shepherds greeted him but he still heard barking. Thats when he saw a bulldog on the couch with Y/N. "Amour, you got another dog?" Charles asked.

"Charlie! This is Hiccup, i got him on Saturday." Y/N said, getting to hug her boyfriend. "Isn't he adorable? He has a lot of health problems because of this breeder, but he is the sweetest. Come meet him." Y/N said, holding Charles's hand to lead him to the couch, sitting next to Hiccup.

"Why did you name him Hiccup?" Charles asked.

"I was watching How To Train Your Dragon, he also had a case of the hiccups when i was...como se dice, revisando...checking him! Yeah, during his checkup, he was hiccupping." Y/N said. Charles pet the bulldog and the bulldog smiled, seemingly happy getting affection.

"He is very cute, but I don't think you'll have space for another dog, mon petit chou." Charles said.

"Hiccup wanted to be with me, he wouldn't let the other shelter workers walk him, just me, it was a sign, Charles." Y/N said.

"I'm sure it was." Charles said smiling. "I'm hungry, do you want to order something?"

"Can you manage ordering Chinese food? I have to give the dogs their bath." Y/N said.

"Sure, mon ange. Same as usual?" Charles asked.

"Yes please. Lets go guys, time for your bath." Y/N said and the dogs walked slowly behind her, not being a fan of baths.

Another year later, December 2020, Charles and Y/N now live together in his penthouse apartment. One day, Charles went with Y/N to her job since he was on winter break.

"Charlie, can you check if Shaggy needs his bowl to be filled?" Y/N asked.

"Sure, amour." Charles said, He was walking through the shelter until he found the gate with the name 'Shaggy' and he saw a fluffy old English sheepdog. "Hello, Shaggy." Charles said hello to the dog and Shaggy started barking, wagging his tail. Charles went to the supply closet to get the bag of dog food, Y/n bought the brand that was specifically for this breed and pour the food in Shaggy's bowl.

"Shaggy looks very happy." Y/N said appearing next to him. Thats when Shaggy started whining and pawing at her through the gate. "Hi Shaggy, como está mi perrito consentido?" Y/N asked in the baby voice, Shaggy lies on his back, showing that he is ready to receive belly rubs. Charles just observes this interaction.

"Are you going to adopt him, mon ange?" Charles asked.

"I would love to adopt him, but it's your apartment." Y/N said.

"Mon ange, it is your apartment too, I asked you to move in with me, it is your apartment too. We can get him, think of it as a Christmas gift." Charles said and Y/N hugged him.

"Can you fill out the adoption papers? I need to check up on a few cats in the other room. Wish me luck." Y/N said.

"Did you take your allergy medicine?" Charles asked. Y/N shook her head no.

"Thats why i need luck." Y/N said. She went with the cats while Charles filled out the adoption papers for Shaggy, since most people in Monaco want small dogs and the other shelter workers know Charles is doing this for Y/N, the process was easy and they were able to take Shaggy home the same day. When they left Shaggy went with Y/N to buy things he needs while Charles went to buy food for the both of them. Charles got home first and he said hello to Nova, Sirius, and Hiccup, place his takeout on the kitchen counter, and refilled their food and water bowls. Charles washed his hands to serve himself good and that’s when Charles heard the door open and he saw Y/N with dog food, a dog bed, and some new toys.

“Mom Ange, I could have helped you.” Charles said, getting the bed from her and placing it on the living room. “Why does he need new toys?”

“It’s why I do for every dog, Charlie, they get new toys, they only share when they want to, it makes them feel important and that they have a permanent home.” Y/N explained to Charles. “Okay Shaggy, meet your brothers and sister.” Y/N let Shaggy off his leash and all the dogs began sniffing each other. After they got acquainted, they started playing with each other, even sharing some toys.

“Come on, mon coeur, your food will get cold, it’s time to eat.” Charles said and Y/N went to wash her hands after seeing the dogs are getting along great. She sat down to eat.

“Muñeco, do you ever think about getting a bigger place?” Y/N asked.

“Eventually, yes. That way we can raise our future children.” Charles said.

2 years later, 2022, Charles and Y/N now have a huge villa on Monaco after they got married with enough room for their dogs to run around in the grass and a pool. In those 2 years, Y/N adopted 3 more dogs; a border collie, a Carin terrier mix, and an Australian shepherd. Charles was watching TV with their 7 dogs when the door opened and it revealed Y/N with a Euraiser dog, Charles stared at her and Y/N smiled.

“His name is Koda, his owner just abandoned him like straight up went to the shelter and dropped him off, no good reason, no toys for him specifically, nothing. Me dio cosa, Charlie, like you have no idea." Y/N said and since her eyes were tearing up, he got up to hug her.

“My love, I know you love dogs, and I love that about you, you have a big heart, but no more dogs.” Charles said, wiping her tears. Kids barked and Charles looked at him, Koda had his tongue out like he was smiling with his tail wagging. “Nice to meet you Koda, welcome to the family, meet your brothers and sisters.” Charles said. Koda ran to the other dogs. “Don’t be fooled by the size, Mickey is in charge.”

Koda was very happy with his new family. He was playing with Bailey and Bambi very politely using toys but full on wrestling with Sirius, he was very content. Mickey and Hiccup were just observing on their dog beds while Nova chewed on a treat.

“Promise me no more dogs, Y/N.” Charles said, cupping her face.

“I promise no more dogs, muñeco.” Y/N said.

And Y/N kept good on her promise, she was completely devoted to their 8 dogs, taking them to work sometimes for checkups, and it was all going well until.

Present day, 2024, Y/N was checking a Saint Bernard as a full fledged Shelter Veterinarian.

“Rebecca, where did you get the Saint Bernard? It has worms and I’m afraid he was in the same transport van as the pitbull mixes, I need to check them too.” Y/N said, lowering the Saint Bernard and giving him an oral medication to deworm him.

“He was around Nice.” Rebecca answered.

“Interesting. Have the pitbulls been showing symptoms of having worms?” Y/N asked.

“They are relatively chill, I’ll check them right now though.” Rebecca said. Moments later, another employee named Freddie came in with a dog crate.

“You guys won’t believe what I just found by the docks.” Freddie said.

“Why were you by the docks?” Rebecca asked.

“No reason, but look at this.” Freddie entered the vet exams room with Rebecca and Y/N and opened the crate.

“Oh my god, that’s a pregnant yorkie, who would throw a pregnant dog on the streets?” Y/N asked, petting the yorkie. “Looks like she has fleas too.”

“I’ll take care of her, your shift is over. I’ll give you updates on the yorkie.” Rebecca said.

“Thanks, I’ll come in tomorrow.” Y/N said, she said goodbye to her coworkers and drove home.

When she got home, she saw all her dogs playing in the yard but as soon and they saw her, they stopped playing and ran towards her.

“Hola mis bebés!” Y/N exclaimed, petting every single dog. She got their leashes to take all of them out for a walk so they're not cooped up in one area, no matter how big it is. They walked around Monaco, some children wanted to pet the dogs, other people took photos or videos of Y/N walking the dogs, the dogs were very well behaved and nonreactive, Y/N couldn't be more grateful. She walked back home, let the dogs off their leash, and washed their paws before they stepped foot inside the house.

Charles was away for the Imola Grand Prix and he said he was going to call Y/N when she got out of work. Just like he said, Y/N's laptop started ringing, she washed her hands and answere the video call.

"Hola guapo! How's Imola?" Y/N asked.

"It's good, I'm tired of press, you know? Sometimes they ask the same questions and I can't deal with it." Charles said.

"I'm sorry, mi vida." Y/N said.

"It's fine, darling. How are the babies?" Charles asked.

"Very good, I went to that bakery where they make pastries for dogs and they loved it. I'm going to look up recipes so I can bake it for them. My babies deserve the best." Y/N said and Bambi jumped in her lap. "yes Bambi, you're my baby." Y/N saod, petting the Australian shepherd. "As a kid i always wanted one, their coloring is beautiful, and now i have one. I know we can't bring all the dogs to the Monaco Paddock, but do you think we can take Mickey?" Y/N asked.

"What happened to treating the dogs equally?" Charles asked.

"Then can we bring all of them? I want them to know where their dad works. I also really want them to meet Roscoe, we can just hang around, I'll keep them entertained, also who wouldnt want to see dogs before practice or qualifying? Like come on." Y/N said.

"Y/N.." Charles warned.

"Okay fine, our children won't see where you work, but it is unfair, they're going to be all alone in the house." Y/N said.

"Yeah, with a dog sitter who will feed and play with them, walk them, and the dogs have the entire property to run around. I bought the villas so you wouldn't have to worry about the dogs as much and you worry about the same." Charles said,

"I can't help it, they're innocent creatures." Y/N said, hugging Bambi tightly and Bambi liked her face. "Look at her Charles, no thoughts behind those eyes."

"Alright my dear, I have to go, I love you." Charles said.

"I love you too." Y/N said and hung up her FaceTime and thats when she got a call from Rebecca. "Hey Rebecca, whats up?"

"Hey, so the mama yorkie is about 8 weeks along in her pregnancy, she seems healthy, but I am going to give her a diet for pregnant dogs, make sure shes getting a lot of protein and calcium for the last week of her pregnancy to make sure the birth goes smoothly." Rebecca said.

"Thanks for everything, you are the best." Y/N said and hung up. She made her dinner, making a small dog safe version for them of course, what kind of owner would she be if she didn't?

A week later, it was the Monaco free practice 3 and qualifying session, she was in the paddock with Charles since he just finished the free practice.

"You did great, guapo, I'm positive you'll make pole." Y/N said, kissing him.

"Thanks, mon ange, I just really want to win my home race and i'll have a better shot of winning if i make pole." Charles said.

"And you will, baby." Y/N said. She felt her phone vibrate and saw Freddie was calling. "Freddie, what's going on?"

"The mom is going into labor, we need you here, please! I'm still just an assistant!" Freddie panicked.

"Alright I'm coming, did she start nesting in her kennel?" Y/N asked.

"She's arranging chew toys and blankets." Freddie said.

"Okay, try your best to get her into the whelping box, I'm on my way now." Y/N hung up. "I'm sorry, mi vida, I need to deliver puppies, good luck on qualifying." Y/N kissed him goodbye and ran to her car, drove off to the shelter, and went to Nani's kennel, where she was in stage 1 of labor. "How long has she been like this?"

"About 2 hours." Rebecca answered.

"Alright, we just have to wait a little while, she should start dilating in about 4 or 10 10 hours." Y/N said.

They waited those hours and Nani succesfully whelped 4 puppies, 3 boys and one girl. Y/N helped getting the puppies out of the amniotic saca and cut the umblical cord to make the processs easier for Nani. She cleaned and rubbed the puppies until she heard them cry out, once they cried, she put them near Nani. Now Nani was feeding the puppies.

"Alright team, in 8 weeks those puppies could be adopted. Hopefull the mom will be adopted as well. Goodnight, I'm going home." Y/N said goodbye to her coworkers and drove home.

Once home, Y/N saw Charles in the living room watching 101 Dalmations.

"Ma belle, how did the delivery go?" Charles asked, pausing the movie.

"The mom delivered 4 healthy puppies, I couldn't be happier. How was qualifying?" Y/N asked.

"I got pole." Charles said. Y/N screamed in excitement and hugged him.

"i am so proud of you, we should get ice cream or go out to eat, I am starving, i didn't eat." Y/N said.

"Then lets go out, ma belle, I'll go call to see if they can prepare something so it'll be ready when we get there, I'll wait for you to change." Charles said and Y/N kissed him.

"You are the best husband ever." Y/N said.

8 weeks went by and in those 8 weeks, Y/N grew extremely close to Bubbles, the female puppy from Nani's litter. Right now, she was carrying Bubbles, comforting her after her first vaccine.

"Rebecca, he is going to kill me." Y/N said.

"What makes you say that?" Rebecca asked.

"He literally told me that I couldn't get anymore dogs. What do you think he is going to say when he comes home from Hungary and sees her on my lap?" Y/N said, holding Bubble in front of Rebecca's face. Bubbles licked Rebecca's nose.

"Aww come on, who would be mad at a little yorkie?" Rebecca cooed. "Its not like you're bringing home a Saint Bernard, or a Rottweiler."

"Rottweilers are so cute, I would absolutely bring one home if i could." Y/N said.

"You just have to make it seem like getting a puppy isn't the worst thing in the world." Rebecca said, giving the other puppies Chip, Mikey, and Donnie, their first vaccines. Y/N started thinking.

"I got it! I'll make him believe i am having an affair." Y/N said.

"Y/N, that's a little crazy even for you." Rebecca said.

"But it's perfect! I just need to set it up perfectly. Today is Friday, right?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, why?" Rebecca asked.

"I am not cruel enough to make him worry during the important race events like qualifying or the actual race, during free practice should be fine." Y/N said before she sent the text 'Call me tonight at 8, we need to talk' and she showed it to Rebecca.

"Good luck with that." Rebecca said. Y/N filled out the adoption papers for Bubbles and bought everything a puppy needed, she carried Bubble everywhere because until she has all her Parvo vaccines, she is not touching the ground. Bubbles was wrapped in a blanket and was brought home. When she entered the house, all the dogs came up to her.

"Hello everyone, we have a new member joining the family, her name is Bubbles, everyone, be gentle." Y/N said, emphasizing gentle. She lowered Bubbles a little so everyone had the chance to sniff her. They all went their separate ways. Y/N got a text from Charles. 'What do we need to talk about?' Y/N responded 'It is crucial to our marriage that we talk.' She wants to worry him a little. Y/N had already established and good feeding schedule with her, she just needs to adjust her potty spot. When she checked that this is the time she usually does her business in the shelter, she took her outside and let her pee on the patch of grass thats near the pool. When she was done, Bubbles trotted right to Y/N and Y/N picked her up, giving her little kisses. Thats when she heard her laptop ring.

"It's show time." Y/N said, placing Bubbles on the couch with her blanket. "Watch her." Y/N told Nova and Nova moved to the couch, keeping her eyes on the puppy. Y/N answered the FaceTime.

“Petit Chou, what’s wrong? What do we need to talk about? Can’t it wait until I’m home?” Charles asked.

“No no, I have to tell you know, the guilt is eating me alive.” Y/N said, getting teary eyed, if she wants Charles to believe she had an affair, she really has to sell it.

“Mon coeur, you can tell me anything, what happened?” Charles asked, sounding very worried.

“This isn’t easy for me to say, I love you so much, you have to know that, but my job has me very stressed, I feel like I don't have a life outside of work because you are always traveling and I work late sometimes, we are like two passing ships. Please, have mercy on me, understand where I am coming from, I get so lonely when you're not here.” Y/N finished saying and she covered her face, just waiting to hear Charles’s reaction.

“Please don’t tell me you got another dog.” Charles said and Y/N uncovered her face.

“How did you know I adopted another dog?” Y/N asked.

“My love, I know you, you would never cheat on me.” Charles said.

“I could have.” Y/N argued.

“You love me too much.” Charles argued back.

“You didn’t believe me?” Y/N asked.

“Not at all.” Charles said.

“Oh come on, that was phenomenal acting, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said.

“I think you overdid it.” Charles said.

“Well i acted better than you did for that Shell commercial.” Y/N said.

“Forget about it, can i see the dog? Did you get a big one?” Charles said. Y/N moved off screen to pick up the yorkie.

“Actually she’s a little puppy, I named her Bubbles, apparently this awful person put her dog out on the street because she was pregnant so the mama yorkie was actually with us for a while, i supervised the birth, i was bonding with the mom and her litter, but i guess this one really liked me and she would seek me out. Isn’t she adorable?” Y/N said, putting Bubbles closer to the screen so Charles can see her in all her glory.

“She is adorable, can’t wait to meet her.” Charles said,

“Im so excited for you to meet her too! This is the first time we can raise a puppy together, i can take her with me to work for her vaccines, we need a lot of bonding time with her. I honesty hope the other yorkies get adopted though, they’re so cute! I would adopt them all if I could.” Y/N confessed.

“I know you would. Please let Bubble be the final dog, I really mean it this time, Y/N." Charles said.

"Okay, okay, i promised Bubbles will be our last dog...for now." Y/N said.

"Y/N!" Charles shouted.

"Okay okay, te lo juro juradito por las haditas that Bubbles will be our last dog." Y/N said.

"That's more like it." Charles said.

"So how was free parctice?" Y/N asked Charles, placing Bubbles on her lap, giving her a small chew toy since she's teething.

"Well what happened was..." Charles said.

The End

Hope y'all liked it! I know the buildup was VERY long but i wanted to show you how much Y/N loved dogs.

[hawkatana]

So, given everything that's happened in recent hours, I thought I might give people who don't know about Gundam some stuff to learn about. Hopefully I can give a balanced and not-racist take like some people.

What is Gundam?

Created by Yoshiyuki Tomino with help by Yoshikazu Yasuhiko and animated by the studio Sunrise (currently Bandai Namco Animation, though I refuse to call them that), the original Mobile Suit Gundam released in 1979 to initially-limited success, though would gain popularity through a combination of fujoshis shipping the characters, the sale of plastic model kits referred to as "Gunpla" and a recut of the series into three compilation movies throughout the early 80's. And as of 2024 is the 66th highest-grossing media franchise of all time, beating out Scooby Doo, Minecraft and the Simpsons.

Also, I'm pretty sure it's what sparked Japanese sci-fi's obsession with O'Neill Cylinders.

The original anime takes place in the year 0079 of the Universal Century, where the Principality of Zeon: a nation composed of orbital space colonies declares a war of independence against the Earth Federation. This "One Year War" has already claimed half the human population by series start and is waged through the use of "Mobile Suits": bipedal mecha powered by a fusion reactor capable of effectively fighting out in the reaches of space.

Main character Amuro Ray is the son of a Federation engineer who lives in an out-of-the-way space colony, though soon finds his home under attack by a Zeon infiltration. After finding the secret Mobile Suit project his father was working on: the RX-78-2 Gundam, he fights off the Zeon invaders, though finds himself and a bunch of other kids conscripted by the Federation to fight the forces of Zeon aboard the ship the White Base. Throughout his journey, Amuro and the Gundam fight many battles against Zeon, including against their mysterious masked ace pilot Char Aznable.

The series was responsible for the codification (but not creation, people get this wrong all the time) of the "Real Robot" subgenre of mecha, where the robots were relatively more realistic and used as weapons of war as opposed to the more fantastical "Super Robot" subgenre pioneered by Mazinger Z and Getter Robo.

A major theme of the show, and the franchise as a whole is "War is bad", as demonstrated through this meme:

Yes, this is the original version of this meme format.

Anyway, Tomino, a renowned pacifist who grew up in the shadow of Japan's involvement in WW2 tried to use his platform as an anime director to try and tell a story that would get people to realise war's futility and brutality.

So I hear you asking, "That's nice and all, but what about the space lesbians who beat Destiel on their home turf?" Well, let's get into that.

What is the Witch From Mercury?

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury, or "G-Witch" for short is one of the more recent entries in the Gundam Franchise and a (very) loose adaptation of William Shakespeare's The Tempest. Set in the year 122 Ad Stella, the solar system is under the de facto control of the Benerit Group: a megacorporation with borderline-medieval internal politics that maintains a system of capitalism that benefits Spacians at the expense of those who live on Earth.

Main heroine Suletta Mercury enrolls at Asticassia School of Technology owned by the Benrit Group at the behest of her mother: CEO Prospera Mercury of the Mercury-based Shin Sei Development Corporation, and wins a Mobile Suit duel against a bully in her own MS: the Gundam Aerial. This however means she has now won the hand in marriage of daughter of the Benerit Group CEO: Miorine Rembran, beginning a series of consequences that shape the very political landscape of the solar system.

G-Witch was a massive hit, both critically and commercially. The first episode: the Witch and the Bride attracting record numbers for the studio and the Gunpla kit for the Aerial is currently the best-selling Gunpla kit ever.

Contrary to popular belief, G-Witch is not the first piece of Gundam media to feature a female protagonist. That honour would go to the 2002 Japan-only manga École du Ciel, nor would it have the first queer main character, which goes to 1999's Turn-A Gundam (and if you were to ask any fan of the series, they'd so it goes back to the very beginning). But it became notable for its lesbian representation in anime (in spite of Sunrise's attempts to downplay it, to the anger of the director, writer, producer, artists, animators, cast, fans and even their own parent company Bandai Namco who forced them to back off).

One thing I need to clarify: You don't need to have watched the original series to enjoy G-Witch. They're not even in the same continuity.

So if you're interested in the series and you've only watched G-Witch, I'll give out three recommendations for you all to enjoy:

Mobile Suit Gundam 00

Gundam 00 takes place in the year 2307 (the only series to use our own calendar), where the world is divided between three global superpowers: The Union of Free & Solar Nations (The Americas, Australia, New Zealand and Japan), the Human Reform League (China, South, East, Southeast and Central Asia) and the Advanced European Union (all of Europe, including all of Russia west of the Urals) who each control a space elevator near the equator and wage proxy-wars in Africa and the Middle-East over Earth's dwindling resources. This eventually culminates in the emergence of Celestial Being: a terrorist group consisting of Setsuna F. Seiei, Lockon Stratos, Allelujah Haptism and Tierria Erde, all of whom use powerful "Gundam" Mobile Suits and try to forcefully impose global peace on the Earth.

00 is pretty slow-paced and is more about the world than the individual characters, but said characters are really well-written, especially the characters from the three power blocs who are the de facto protagonists as they try to stop what are in their eyes a bunch of crazed terrorists preaching a hypocritical and incoherent ideology of "peace through force".

And to address the elephant in the room, this series is VERY post-9/11. Constant talks about terrorism, proxy-conflicts in the global south (especially the Middle-East), religious extremism, dwindling resources and the wars fought over them. While the franchise has always been political and of-its-time, you can just tell 00 was made in the mid-2000's. Again, it's good. But just something to keep in mind.

Turn-A Gundam

Turn-A Gundam is one of the weirder elements of the franchise for a myriad of reasons. Not the least of which being its unique setting taking inspiration from the famous sci-fi novel War of the Worlds.

In the Year 2345 of the Correct Century, human civilisation is at a level of technology reminiscent of the late-19th/early 20th centuries, save for the Moonrace on... well, the moon. As part of their queen Diana Soreil's plan to reintegrate both Lunar and Terran societies, several scouts are sent to the planet to set up their return to the planet. One such scout: Loran Cehack integrates into Terran society as a driver for the wealthy Heim family, though at a coming of age ceremony for the family's second daughter, a member of the Moonrace attacks the technologically-inferior Terrans. However, a mysterious mustached statue breaks apart to reveal a "White Doll": the Turn-A Gundam, allowing Loran to fend off the invaders. rest of the series becomes more of a mystery to how the supposedly-peace loving Moonrace could allow of such brutality.

The setting of the Correct Century timeline alone is one of the draws of Turn-A, though its excellent characters and compelling mystery also help a lot.

I do however have two warnings for people interested in watching it. The first is that this series was never dubbed. While it did receive an official sub in 2015, there still isn't a dub for the series. So if that bothers you, there's your warning.

The other is that there's a pretty big twist in the latter part of the series that while I will not spoil it here, it's such a big deal that I can't not mention it. It doesn't make any sense, and it actively detracts from not just the series, but the whole franchise. You'll know it when you see it. It doesn't ruin my enjoyment, but a lot of people don't like Turn-A for that alone.

Mobile Fighter G Gundam

Favourite entry. Don't care. It's peak.

In the Year 60 of the Future Century, war has been abandoned by the nations of humanity in favour of the Gundam fight: a quad-annual fighting tournament between Gundams representative of the countries of the world where the winner rules space until the next Gundam fight, all while leaving the Earth ecologically devastated in the fighting. Neo-Japan's Gundam Fighter: Domon Kasshu arrives on Earth seeking information on his older brother Kyoji, who killed their mother and led to their father's arrest before stealing the experimental Devil Gundam to Earth, beating up every Gundam Fighter in his way. However, he eventually learns of far more dangerous revelations about the incident.

G Gundam is to put it bluntly: bat-shit insane. And I love it. It basically took a look at the then-stagnating franchise in the wake of the wet fart that was Victory Gundam and said "I know what can save this franchise, Bruce Lee movies!" And it somehow worked.

Word of advice: watch it dubbed. Mark Gatha absolutely kills it as Domon every time, and puts just the right amount of ham into every line.

So yeah, that's some stuff on Gundam. This was a long post to write out. I'm gonna take a break now.

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART MASTERLIST

Don't Fear The Reaper (Part Three/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a restless night and chaotic start to your day, you arrive late for work. Unfortunately for you, your day of misfortune doesn't end there when Tommy's jealousy becomes uncontainable and he calls you into his office for some stern words and questioning as to where exactly your priorities lie.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, stalking, obsessive behaviour, supernatural themes, dark romance, manipulation of time, dark!tommy (This is a dark series with heavy potentially triggering undertones, please read the warnings before continuing)

Word Count: 4164

Authors Note: "Sweet Afton's" are a brand of cigarette seen in the show, smoked by Tommy. The two other brands of cigarettes mentioned in this chapter were also popular at the time. Sorry for being so late posting this part everyone. I hope you enjoy it!

How long had you been awake? A simple question anyone could ask themselves but a wasted one on you as you frantically rushed past your granddad through the cramped hallway, sending him no more than a faint smile as a greeting the very next morning as you made your way out onto the streets of Small Heath. A lack of sleep and an exhausted mind from countless hours of mulling over what you were sure you had seen the previous night consequently had you stumbling over your feet the very moment you stepped onto the cobbled path, and into a hard object you could only assume was a fellow human.

" Steady there love" a young man said, catching you before you landed face first onto the ground In front of him and further embarrassing yourself in your already flustered state.

" Sorry..." you replied abruptly pulling away from his hold, finding yourself studying his face longer than what anyone would consider socially acceptable let alone polite as you stepped back with caution. Was it him? You thought to yourself as your glare narrowed in on every feature his face possessed, his puzzled eyes turning into ones filled with nervousness when your stare failed to divert from examining each movement he made in an awkward, almost unbearable silence.

"Well...G'day to you miss" he said tipping his hat to you as he walked past your insistent eyes, his slow strides and labored limp absent of the speediness the dark shadow displayed last night quickly snapping you out of your unfounded accusations.

"Shit" you sighed under your breath as you straightened your hat that was now lop sided with a knotted ball of locks contained under it. In all honesty, you looked a bloody mess. A tangly haired, red-cheeked, nervous ball of mess. " Good day sir, and...and thank you!" You apologetically called out waving to the young man who your suspicious mind had all but convinced you in the space of a few seconds was the same creep that had been watching you. "Jesus Y/N, get a fucking grip" you scolded yourself under a heavy breath as you headed in the direction of work which you was already twenty minutes late for, the same place of work that just so happened to pass by the very spot said creep was standing in. As you approached the corner of the alleyway you came to a stop, your eyes briefly darting down to a burnt out cigarette on the ground you was convinced only one person could have been smoking. Bending down you picked up the rolled tobacco with the unintelligible charred words "eet ton's" printed on the filter, bringing it to your face as if you could distinguish the authentic smell of whatever tobacco had been used. In reality, you had no idea what you were looking for, but with wishful thinking and your nagging brain telling you to pocket the discarded cigarette, you did exactly that. Placing it between your hankie and carefully folding it within the embroidered fabric, your eyes shot up to the gulley that was devoid of anyone mere minutes ago when, just like the previous day, someone caught your attention. She was there again, watching you. " Hello?" You called out as the man that never ceased to be absent from her side made his presence known as he turned the corner, a bellow of smoke pummeling to the heavens with every swift stride he took.

" She can see me, Tommy..." Your panicked voice gasped as he approached you, his hand gently resting on your lower back, his bitterly cold cheek pressed against your own as you watched in unison the woman standing at the end of the bricked pathway, a woman that looked in every single way identical to you. Was Tommy right, was that you?

" Shh now darling" he soothed your worries away, his hand creeping under your jacket and grazing over your blouse, his fingers desperate to intimately feel the warmth of your soft skin he had longed to touch once again. This would have to do...for now. "She won't get any closer, I'll make sure of it" he assured you, closing his eyes as your intoxicating perfume brimming with notes of aldehyde and lemon filled his senses, transporting him back to the very year you were standing in, the very same day you were standing in.

"She's coming. Tommy, she's walking this way. Make her stop, please!..."

"Can I help you?" You asked, squinting into the distance as you strategically stepped around a muddy pothole whilst you made your way through the morning mist when a loud crashing of metal onto the cobbled path had you falling ankle deep into the very globe of sludge you was doing your up most to avoid. " Fuck sake. You again" you huffed as the black feline from the previous night ran out from behind a lidless bin. " You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Made it your life's bloody mission to torment me" you ranted as he ran past you without a mere ounce of remorse whilst your eyes followed his nimble steps to the end of the alleyway that was now suddenly empty of the couple that had been standing there. " I'm losing it" you said wiping the whispers of hair from your face, grimacing as you pulled your muddy foot from the deep hole. " New job, no sleep and... I'm finally losing it" you continued to ramble to yourself, unwilling to speak of the very thing that had you in such a state as you took one last quick glance to the end of the path hoping that the past two days' unusual events were just a figment of your over-tired imagination. Fatigue. The only likely, rational reason...right?

" What the fuck-a-doodle-doo happened to you?" Ethel rather flamboyantly asked as you came thundering through the offices looking at you from head to toe, her and everyone else's eyes now fixed on your muddy stockings and disheveled appearance.

" Ethel!" Betsy scolded her. Her dear friend and colleague never able to, or willing to stop herself at any given opportunity to further elaborate whatever thought had entered her mind.

"Dear lord" Ada said wide-eyed as she looked to her Aunt who's lips were tightly pursed together, desperately holding back the humor in your uncanny resemblance to the local pigeon lady that had taken up residence on the church steps of Small Heath.

" I'm sorry love, It's just ..." Polly started to say, covering her mouth behind her cup of tea before her and everyone else burst into a fit of giggles, you quickly following suit as you got a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of a glass cabinet in front of you.

" Well Christ" you laughed, slumping down into your chair as you pulled your hat off.

" Dare I ask?" Ada said through a smile as she sat on the edge of your desk, receiving only a grunt from you in response. " Late night maybe? Followed by some cross-country hiking?" She teased, arching a brow as she looked down at your mud-drenched tights.

" Stepped in a pothole" you huffed, burying your head in your hands suddenly feeling sorry for yourself.

" And the birds nest currently residing on top of your head? " She asked as you ran your fingers through your knotted locks. " Getting there..." she smiled affectionately to you as your hair started to smooth down into something more manageable. " So, are you going to tell me what's got you looking like you was pulled through a hedgerow backwards ? " She asked as you started taking of your shoes, your lack of clothing in your frantic departure from home that morning making it near impossible to unbuckle your three-inch heels with your now, numb fingers.

" You know, they really should do something about all those potholes, Ada. I could have broken my ankle"

" Y/N"

" A foot deep, it was like a trench"

" Y/N!"

" Nothing" you replied, avoiding her gaze as you hitched up your skirt and unhooked your stockings, simultaneously avoiding Ada's worries and your own. With a room full of women, you were at no risk of further embarrassing yourself. Or at least you thought you were, when not only your boss but his two brothers and another man accompanying them sauntered in, coming to a sudden stop at the sight of your toe balancing precariously on the knob of your desk draw, the clasps of your garter belt on show and a stocking halfway down your leg. Oh, for fuck sake.

"I think I've just died and gone to heaven. Catch me Arthur..." John said, falling into his brother as a thunder of laughter resonated through the building, all but Tommy's that was.

" Get off ya bleeding egit" Arthur said, giving his brother a sharp elbow to his side.

" Gents" Tommy cleared his throat, motioning what might as well have been the entire British army and all the Kings' guards into his office as your face reddened, and you felt like bursting into tears at the sheer embarrassment of them seeing you in such a predicament.

" Kill me now. Just kill me now and throw me in the cut" you mumbled under your breath, tucking your legs under the desk as Tommy glanced back at you, his jaw tightening in what you could only assume was annoyance at your inappropriate display in a work place.

" Oh stop it" Ada scolded you as she rolled her eyes at your dramatics. " It's not like they've never seen a pair of legs before" she said placing a cigarette in her mouth as she tried to downplay your small mishap.

" Yes but maybe not at eight in the morning, and legs belonging to someone they hardly know" you huffed pushing your forehead into the palms of your hands, pushing the disastrous morning's events from your thoughts.

" You do realise you're in Small Heath, right?" She giggled, pulling a laugh from the frustrated pout that had weighed down your lips as you shimmered off the rest of your stockings under the cover of your wooden desk. Small Heath, you was begining to realise just what kind of place it was.

The remainder of the morning was thankfully a lot less eventful. You'd spent almost the entirety of it signing for letters, each delivery boy hanging around for a chat to see the latest newcomer to the Shelby offices after word had gotten around about the pretty-faced girl Thomas Shelby had hired. Though, every interaction had not gone missed by the watchful eye of the very man who had brought you into his firm, the same man who was starting to get increasingly angry with what he thought were your distracted priorities. Unbeknownst to you, you had already handed him two documents that didn't need signing for another month, and the ones that did have a deadline had all but gone missing. Second day of work, and you were unknowingly still making a mess of everything. The next interaction, or what Tommy believed, distraction, would be one he'd swiftly put a stop to before the annoyance his Aunt Polly had burdened him with got any ideas.

"Y/N love, come and meet Michael, my son" Polly ushered you over to her desk as you scooted out of your seat, catching the eye of Tommy who was watching you from his office through the glass windowed door separating you.

"It's nice to make your acquaintance again, Y/N" he said reaching his hand out for you to take as Polly looked straight ahead at her nephew who was now stood up at the window watching the whole interaction, his deathly stare enough for her to know he was getting progressively frustrated at the attention your presence had brought to the office. Was his dear, loving Aunt doing this on purpose? Tommy seethed to himself as he watched you smile to his cousin. Never having been able to stop her nephews' depraved ways, maybe this was her attempt at bringing Tommy's "Hobbies" to an end. For she knew better than anyone how your innocent beauty had already captivated him, how he'd already set his sights on his next endeavor. If his Aunt thought he would not take the needed measures to dispose of her beloved son, her judgment in his determination to get what he wanted was severely lacking, severely.

" Right yes, hi" you said, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks having now learned of whom the third man was that saw your misfortunate leggy display. " Sorry you had to see that" you said looking up through your lashes as you fidgeted with the pendant of your necklace sitting on your chest.

" Well, it was certainly one way to leave a lasting impression" he replied with a chuckle as you silently begged for the floor to swallow you up, and not leave one ounce of you left to endure the remaining embarrassment you were sure you hadn't heard the end of.

" Alright that's enough, leave the poor girl alone. She's had enough ribbing from us lot all bloody morning" Polly said as she lit a cigarette, the corners of her eyes turning up to match her smile at her son's less than subtle enamorment with you. " Y/N's been having trouble with her typewriter Michael"

" Uh huh.." Michael could all but reply as he watched your lashes flutter in the evening sun beaming through the windows as your fingers flicked through the file of documents on Polly's desk.

" Maybe you could show her...how to change the ink cartridge?" Polly encouraged him as you finally looked up to see the young man staring back at you.

" Erh yeh, sure" he promptly replied, sending you a smile to diffuse the look of confusion on your face. What had him all flustered? You thought to yourself furrowing your brow as you showed him to your desk whilst Polly sent her nephew a satisfied smirk. So she was doing this on purpose, purposely getting under his fucking skin. Tommy thought to himself as he marched to his door.

" Y/N, my office. Now" Tommy's voice boomed as he waited, checking his pocket watch in what could only be a blatant sign for you to, hurry the fuck up.

"Excuse me" you said bolting away from the young man with Tommy's appointment book in hand, tucking your hair behind your ear as you entered what felt like a triangle of stares between Tommy, his Aunt and cousin.

"Don't have something to do, Michael?" Tommy asked with a quizzical brow, not bothering to wait around for a response when his cousin opened his mouth before Tommy slammed his office door shut. " Sit" he demanded, his tone of voice absent of the niceties from the previous day as he leaned against the frame of the window lighting a cigarette, his eyes studying you from head to toe. Whatever did happen to your stockings? Tommy mused as his eyes darted down to your bare legs, his tongue wetting at how far up those legs he had seen mere hours ago." Now correct me if I'm wrong, but did you not say you were serious about your position in my offices? No distractions? Is my cousin a distraction for you Y/N?" Tommy said clearing his throat, flicking a scattering of ash into a decorative glass dish resting on the windowsill as he looked out onto the streets below him. Day-dreaming would have to wait.

"What?...No, no! You replied profusely shaking your head, feeling your emotions bubble up from an overwhelming start to your new life in Birmingham, and the telling off you were undoubtedly about to get from the most feared man in the smoke-fogged town.

"And the delivery boys are they a distraction too?" Tommy said as he blew a cloud of smoke up to the ceiling before the heavy sound of his pristinely polished boots traveled across the room to the edge of the desk in front of you, the buckle of his belt at eye level causing you to glance away in embarrassment. Well, isn't that sweet? Tommy chuckled to himself, your blushing cheeks giving him enough reassurance to know you weren't a woman of loose morals like the others.

" No. No...I was just being friendly, I..." You said feeling your eyes suddenly brimming with tears as he sat down on the edge of the desk. You had made a fool of yourself, once again.

" Friendly. Anyone else you plan on being friendly with love? Does the whole of Small Heath have the pleasure of looking forward to your charm?" He replied with a tone of disdain and irritation as you searched for a response. You were just trying to get by in what felt like a completely different world, just trying to be nice. " And here's me thinking you were serious about working for me" Tommy said with a look of disappointment spread across his face as he glanced down at your eyes fixed on your thumbs frantically rubbing against each other as a shame you hadn't felt in your attempts to be cordial suddenly heated your cheeks to a fiery warmth with every loud thump of your quickened heart. " Maybe you're not suited for this line of work, hm? Tommy said arching a brow as he went to stand up, and you, without an ounce of reflection, grabbed hold of your boss's leg.

" Please don't fire me..." You sobbed, your emotions finally getting the better of you. " I was just...trying to be nice" you wept, clutching onto him as Tommy's lips parted at the unexpected, but undoubtedly welcome contact of your delicate grip on him." I'm sorry" you said quickly pulling your hand away suddenly realising how inappropriate you had been. Is that what he thought you were, an immature girl that loved the thrills of flirting with any man in her presence? You thought to yourself as you tucked your hands under your thighs, shamefully looking up at your boss and the piercing stare he was now giving you.

" Y/N, there are two things I expect from my employees. Professionalism and trustworthiness. But from you, I expect a third" Tommy said as he watched your tears stream down your cheeks, hanging on to every word he said. " Loyalty" he finished as your fidgeting suddenly stopped and you locked eyes, Tommy's briefly darting between your own and your cherry red lips now stained from your trickling tears. Everything about you was so intoxicating, even that expensive perfume you had probably spent half of your life savings on. Lemon and aldehyde was it? Chanel No5. My my, someone was trying to make a good impression. Was this all for him? Tommy thought to himself as he watched you nod your head in agreement, desperately trying to hold onto your new life, and it's future he now held in his hands.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you. It won't happen again " you replied to the very man who's whole agenda has suddenly become, you.

" Good " Tommy ended his interrogation as you wiped your tears from your cheeks, searching in your skirt pocket for anything to dab away your embarrassment when your handkerchief fell onto the floor. " Sweet Afton's" Tommy chuckled, raising a brow as he picked up the burnt out cigarette between his fingers you had found that very morning. An unusual thing to save. He thought to himself when he suddenly realised, had you seen him? Had you been... meddling? " Would have taken you for more of a Craven A girl" Tommy said throwing the burnt rolled cylinder of tobacco in a bin next to his desk, clearing his throat as you watched your only evidence and reminder of the previous nights events being discarded of. "Here" Tommy said pulling out a fresh square of neatly folded cotton from within his suit jacket and handing it to you as he bent down to pick up your own, his finger grazing momentarily over the smoothness of your leg as he swiftly placed yours in his pocket as you wiped you cheeks.

" It's not mine" you confessed without realising the severity of what you had just said. So you had seen him. Tommy thought to himself as he tried to gauge exactly how much. " Sweet Afton's, I've never heard of that brand. Is it new? " You inquired as you sniffed away your remaining tears.

"New enough " Tommy replied, a small smirk playing on the corner of his mouth over something so mundane and insignificant as the brand of a cigarette you naively thought the man that had been watching you only used. Did you think you could fish out the owner of a cigarette that the majority of the country smoked? Tommy quietly chuckled to himself as a glint of mischievousness shone in his eyes, the sweetness in your naivety sending a shiver of goosebumps down his spine. You wouldn't last in Small Heath, even as a Londoner. Tommy thought to himself, waiting for another one of your queries as if this was a playful game, him having the upper hand, of course. But when your sweet voice stayed silent, Tommy could only assume you knew nothing more of his little late night stroll that just so happened to end up in front of your home. " Michael has a particular liking for them"

"Michael, Polly's son?" You asked, your brow quickly furrowing as Tommy watched your thoughts frantically tick over.

"An acquired taste. I tend to be more of a Woodbines smoker. Tobacco of the working man" Tommy lied, betting on your naivety to believe him as he continued to further sow the seeds of your suspicious mind.

" Woodbines? I'd say you've surpassed the class of a working man, wouldn't you Sir? " You replied as you looked around his costly office filled with luxurious rich mahogany furniture and the finest of staples any man of the upper class would possess.

" I'll let you be the judge of that Miss Y/L/N" Tommy replied, his mouth parting at your use of such formalities. Maybe he could do things the proper way this time, the correct way. He thought to himself as his eyes drifted down to the way the small rose pendant on the end of your necklace subtly moved with each breath you took, playfully luring him in. Who was he kidding, he would be a fool to think he could be so patient. And Tommy was no fool.

"I should get back to work" you said standing up, your movements snapping Tommy out of his deviant thoughts as you headed for his office door.

" Y/N" he stopped you, catching your elbow before you opened the door. " I feel I may have been a little harsh with you hm? " He confessed, the sudden softness in his voice catching you of guard. A brief glimpse into his lesser intimidating side piquing your curiosity.

" You wasn't" you looked up doe-eyed, your telling off still uncomfortably too recent to forget. For what was the briefest of moments, you found yourself getting completely lost in the oceans of his eyes as the man that never showed an ounce of fear held your gaze. There was something about him you couldn't quite put your finger on. Was it his charm, the authority he possessed or something entirely different? With each fraction of a second that past, you began to feel he was hiding a whole different self behind his crystal eyes as you sunk deeper into his stare.

"Y/N" Polly's voice awoke you from what had only been mere seconds of you pondering who your boss really was.

" There's a delivery that needs your signature" she said holding the door open as Tommy let go of your elbow, his Aunt looking right past you to her nephew who was now causally leaning against the frame of the door, watching you gracefully walk away.

"Not this one Tommy. You let her be. She's a good girl, she deserves someone..." Polly said standing in front of his line of sight, blocking him from the only thing his mind was hell-bent on having before he cut her off.

" What? Someone Like Michael?" He replied with a scoff as he reached into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. " I feel a change Aunty, a good one" he smiled wickedly, blowing the fumes from his cigarette in her face. " Now, stay out of it" he warned, his smile quickly dropping as the blues of his eyes turned to coal. " We wouldn't want anyone getting hurt from you interfering, would we? He smirked as he nodded to her son Michael in the adjoining office.

" You wouldn't dare" Polly's eyes widened, grabbing his arm as he turned to leave, a mere shrug of his shoulder and a sharp look he had conjured up from the very depths of hell, worthy of his only true fiery opponent enough for her to let go as she stepped back with heed.

" Wouldn't I?..."

NEXT PART

Tag list: @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @prettywhenicry4 @smayhem49-blog @pacifymebby @indierockgirrl @globetrotter28 @theshelbyclan @zablife @call-sign-shark @red-riding-wood @peakyswritings @everysage

[catgirlforeskin]

"even the most gentle suggestions that trying out other games could be good." ^ .... ?? "We should round up everyone who still likes DnD 5e and hold their faces down into hot coals until the smell of charred melting flesh suffocates our noses! Who’s with me!" "an rpg so alien to the design philosophy of DnD that hearing it makes cr fans’ heads explode into tf2 gore giblets" & you keep saying that you'd give people a list of other ttrpg's to play... and you don't. you just shit on stuff and whine. i don't even like dnd anymore because all the manuals are "big" but insubstantial and wizards of the coast are greedy and making the game worse.. but it doesn't mean you have to be rude to the people who still enjoy it.

You’re right, we don’t have to be rude to people who still enjoy 5e. We have to kill them

I’ve had several posts about other systems to play, usually as answers to asks I’ve gotten, if tumblr search worked better you could look on my blog quite easily. But for posterity’s sake…

Crunchier games:

-most similar to DnD 5e: Pathfinder 2e. All rules free online, extremely popular

-faster, high stakes cinematic combat with more flexibility in setting: Mythras

-apocalyptic survival exploration with good gun-based combat: Twilight 2000 4e. Easily reskinned for other settings that keep the same thematic core

-people will get mad if I don’t mention Lancer, it’s a mech game, I just think it’s okay personally.

Pf2e and Lancer are combat as sport while mythras and t2000 are more combat as war (explainer here)

Lighter Games:

-OSR: Old School Renaissance, this is a school of RPGs based on original DnD and adventuring with fragile characters defined by gear instead of abilities who should always fight dirty and creatively, trying to outwit opponents instead of engaging head-on. Mausritter and Dragonbane are my current favs, but there’s hundreds of games in this genre of all different kinds of themes. Favors GM rulings over written rules⭐️Great for people who already play 5e in a much more freeform style⭐️

-PbtA: Powered by the Apocalypse, a school of RPGs based on Apocalypse World. Strong mechanical support for collaboratively making your story at the table. ⭐️Great for people who prefer roleplay and narrative⭐️. People often recommend Dungeon World because it’s similar to old dnd, personally I just think it’s okay. Current fav is The Sword, the Crown, and the Unspeakable Power for Game of Thrones feeling stories, Fellowship is good for LotR style fantasy. Hundreds of games in this genre and the subgenre Forged in the Dark (FitD) for games based on Blades in the Dark. Current fav is Rebel Crown.

Closing thoughts:

-Umm suck me off :)

-Free League Publishing makes a ton of rpgs and pretty much all of them are good, I highly recommend anything they do. FIST is a fun osr and pbta hybrid. Riddle of Steel and its successors are cool rpgs trying to simulate real sword fights unfortunately mostly made by reactionary dipshits. There’s tons of unique rules light stuff outside of OSR or PbtA design space as well, go on the various rpg subreddits, go to rpg blogs, go to itch.io and explore. r/rpg is a great resource and I’ve learned about so many good systems from it.

-I hope this one shows up when searching my blog for rpg posts in the future so silly people don’t go “you never recommend games you’re just a HATER!” I love to hate but it’s slightly more fun to play good rpgs with friends than it is to be a hater online. Oh my god I didn’t even mention GMless games, good lord uhhh check out Quiet Year and The Zone okay love you all bye bye I want 100 5e player scalps xoxo

[cyberm4n]

hi im cyber :3

masterlist

taglist form

request info below

blog rules:

please be kind to each other and me in the comments

minor dni but im not gonna scour through my following. just please don't be judgemental if you see something you don't like.

i can't prevent minors from interacting with my blog and i honestly don't care but please know this is an adult space

i might be slow to answering requests but this is because i am in school and i work but trust me i am always thinking of this shit

also it's okay to critique my work! i want to develop myself so if you have any genuine feedback i would love to hear it!

fandoms:

hazbin hotel currently is the only fandom ill write for but i might open up more later

ill do any of the characters but the ones i mainly have a grip on personality wise are listed in my masterlist

request rules:

i will only write smut with afab anatomy as that is what i can confidently write in

if you're requesting a trans reader please specific pronouns :)

your request may not be answered right away, but trust ive seen it

also! i might interpret your request in a slightly different way

at the moment im not writing ships unless it also involves reader (char a x reader x char b)

i will write:

smut

fluff

headcanons

some dark themes

hurt/comfort

child! reader

i will not write:

dom! reader (sorry)

scat

watersports

heavy gore

rape (some noncon elements are okay but like. yk the reader has to be a little willing)

[saradika]

— WASTELAND, BABY

ii. the stench of the sea, and the absence of green

[masterlist] | [part i]

boba fett x f!reader

rated E - 3.2k

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes, canon-typical violence & death, mentions and use of guns/weapons, corpse-looting

a/n: thank you so much for all the kindness on part i! It is so appreciated! 💖

As your first real taste of life outside the vault comes to an end, you find out just who your savior is.

The figure leaves you retching into the wasteland - empty stomach heaving as he moves to look through the doorway of the farmhouse.

An ache thudding in your hip, the back of your head where it had collided against the wooden steps on the way down. Fingers pressing into the packed earth as you try to look anywhere except the steaming, oozing pile of ash.

You can hear him returning - the hiss of the hydraulics, the weight of his steps. The dark shadow falling across where your eyes are cast downward. Waiting - but for what, you do not know.

"This where you live, girl?" The voice crackles again, the creak as his helmet tips down towards you.

You don't know how to answer.

Not knowing what he wants - not wanting to reveal where your family is sleeping. Not necessarily wanting to stay here either, not with the ground littered with charred corpses.

The lack of a response is an answer within itself, silence filling the space until he speaks again.

"There's a settlement, a few hours from here. I could take you there."

At this offer, you finally look up. Traveling up the miles of forest-green armor, meeting the dark shine of his visor.

And slowly, you nod.

Pushing yourself to shaky feet, your hand touching gingerly at your head - checking for bleeding. Your voice is no more than a rough rasp when you finally try to speak, weak after not talking for so long.

"My stuff is inside. Can I get it?"

There's another moment of silence, and then you see his helmet dip again in a nod. You give the bodies a wide berth as you take the steps back inside.

You'd have to go with him.

Most of your jars of food were shattered in the firefight, only two remain on the broken counter.

Belatedly realizing you should have kept everything together in your pack, but it was hard to forget the old habits. Your things were tucked around the home as if you actually lived there.

They are quickly packed up. The remaining jars, each of your precious books. A spare vault suit, your few small trinkets from your home - the blanket that stopped smelling like the vault days ago.

He's still waiting outside as you approach him. A shift in the broad, armored shoulders as he gives you a once-over.

He's bigger than you thought, now that you're close. Your head barely level with his wide chestplate, his metal boots twice as wide and long as yours. There's a jerk of his arm, the point of a glove in your direction.

"This all you have?”

Your fingers twist together. What else are you supposed to be carrying with you? The pack on your back carried as much as you dared - not wanting to take too many supplies in case someone else had woken.

There's a hum that sounds like a sigh, before he's gesturing at the figures on the ground, "You're going to need more protection than that on our journey. Take his coat, and his weapons."

His words travel through one ear, and then out the other side. Unable to help the look of confusion and disgust you throw his way.

He wants you to what?

Touch a dead body?

Loot a corpse for your own gain?

You can't wrap your head around how he says it so easily, even with those old public service announcements playing in the back of your mind.

There may be times when you must engage in questionable activities.

In the wasteland, essential supplies will be scarce. When an item of value is found, keep it close, and away from bullies.

You hadn't thought that advice was real - hadn't taken it seriously. Childish propaganda, with its blaring music, the radio-voice overlay.

"I can't. I'm not a-," You protest, search for a word that conveys your intense distaste. "A scavenger.”

The barrel of his rifle swings in his grip as he shifts, moving a few steps close to you.

"No, you're not. You really are from the vaults, aren't you?” His voice a low rumble from beneath his helmet - curiosity tinging his words. "I thought you had stripped that suit off someone else."

You shoot him a wild look, worry souring your stomach. At the thought of your vault - and then at the idea of such a deception.

“I don’t want-” You start, shaking your head, but he cuts you off, his words clipped and firm.

"There could be worse things than Raiders on our journey. I can't protect someone who won't protect themself."

His words cut into you. You know he’s right - that things has not gone well for you earlier.

That you had only survived because of him.

That you should probably listen.

Slowly, you approach the body on the steps. It’s hard to look at him, the crumpled form - the charred blast in his chest.

You hesitate, fingers reaching out towards the tattered jacket he wears - long enough to twist around his knees, the sleeves hacked off at the shoulders. Stopping, as you glance back towards him.

"You won't get anything off the other one." He comments darkly, and you resist the urge to look at the pile of ash, starting to scatter in the wind.

You still can’t bring yourself to do it.

He sighs, slow steps taking him over to your side. Making quick work of things - stripping the jacket from the body, scooping up a pistol from where it lays in the dirt.

Pressing them both into your hands, the grip heavy in your fingers.

“I don’t know how to use this.” You admit, holding the gun gingerly, slipping the jacket on. It covers a good portion of your suit, even with the tears and holes that rip through the back.

He makes a low sound, and you think his patience must be wearing thin, “Keep it. If you stick close, perhaps you won’t need to use it.”

At that, he turns - leaving the choice up to you as he sets off, away from the farmhouse. You give the body one last look - seeing the tire iron hanging from the holster around his waist.

The jingle plays in your mind, again.

There are other situations where you may find yourself in close proximity to unfriendly neighbors. For such cases, you must learn to defend yourself using your natural strength.

Use anything sharp, or sturdy enough to swing. Get creative with your implement, but stay reasonable, and look for anything that can further enhance your innate vigor.

You take it - the metal cool in your grip, much more comforting than a gun. The holster fitting around your waist, the gun tucking neatly into it.

When you look up again, your savior has started to look small against the horizon, moving down the path that continued past the Farmhouse.

"Wait," You call, jogging after him. "What is your name?"

The sun glints off the painted metal as his head turns fractionally to the side. Slowing, allowing you to catch up with him.

"My name is Boba Fett."

Your neck cranes up - despite everything, you want him to know. Eyes sweeping across the dark visor as you tell him, "Thank you, Boba Fett."

He nods - and then you find yourself following him into the wasteland.

You stick to the wake of his shadow, tripping after him across the open plane. Silent except for the rhythmic hiss of his steps - you take three for each one of his - and the high whistle of the wind.

Beneath crumbling overpasses that tower above you, around piles of abandoned cars - the glass blown out, rusted beyond belief. You're unable to help thinking about how they've been there since the blast, unmoved for centuries.

The worst is the scattering of houses - strewn out every couple miles you pass. Boba's steps slowing, the unspoken command to stick close as he stands still.

The clicking of his helmet as he watches for movements, checking for heat signatures. Only moving on when there's nothing.

You wonder if everyone in this world are like the men - the Raiders, as he called them. If the massive loss and sorrow had twisted everyone beyond repair, had created a life where only cruelty kept you alive.

But then - you wonder why Boba helped you. Had disintegrated a man that was about to kill you.

Now that you've had time to think about it, it had been very impressive. How he had arrived, just in the nick of time.

How he'd walked away with barely more than a scorch blast on his armor.

How he had offered to take you to the settlement.

The settlement.

Your thoughts loop back to before.

Wondering if he was taking you somewhere worse. Wondering - if he was - if you'd have any chance of escaping. Not with the open fields, you think. Not with his long steps, the rifle now slung across his back.

Eventually, you're unable to help asking. Wanting to know what's in store instead of waiting. You've been doing enough of that, lately.

"What is the settlement like?" Your voice breaks the silence, though he does not slow, "Are the people like... like them?"

Boba makes a low sound of contempt, "Mos Espa has all kinds of types. Bounty Hunters, smugglers, and mercenaries. But none of them are like the Raiders. Lawless sacks of bantha fodder."

A beat, as your legs slow to a stop. His head turns.

"They won't hurt you there, girl."

You're not so sure, but it's a relief that he seems to understand your worry. The journey begins again in silence - through a section of bare trees, the grass rustling beneath your feet.

Finally plucking up the courage to ask, "Can you tell me about it? I don't - I don't know what settlements are like, now."

After a long moment, he does.

Telling you, under the heat of the sun, about the city. An old town, built from brick and stone. Sections that have crumbled - some rebuilt, others laying in waste. The marketplace that curls throughout the circular town square, centered around the old capitol building.

It sounds beautiful, in a way. That the city had been rebuilt. Hasn’t sat empty - filled with the skeletons of before.

You’ve seen a lot of those, lately.

“You seem to know a lot about it.” You comment, your boot catching on a rock - sending it skittering across the packed earth.

“I do.”

A new worry fills you, worming it’s way into your thoughts. Your words quiet over the hiss of his steps, each one hesitant, “Do you think they'll let me stay?”

He doesn’t slow, his answer seeming to come without thought.

“Aye, girl. They will.”

You can’t help but wonder how he can be so certain.

Finally, after hours had passed - the sun creeping across the gold-tinged sky - you see it. The cluster of buildings on the horizon, starting small until they begin to loom like a cracked range of mountains.

Finally back on a road, a real one. The asphalt cracked and crumbling, but it’s mostly flat under your feet - far more easy than some of the terrain you had crossed.

Because the journey hadn’t been all easy.

A crash-course in wandering the wasteland.

Beginning with a shimmer on the horizon, his steps slowing until you almost crashed into him. The rifle on his back swung around, peering down the sight so he could see what was approaching.

“Tuskens,” he had said.

As if you knew who or what that was - but the low edge to his voice had you sticking close again, as his did a slow sweep. Waiting for them to come to you, the figures slowly growing.

People clothed in wraps and robes, their faces covered. Traveling together, the first riding a large, ox-like beast with a thick pelt and curling horns.

Banthas, you found out later. Mutated by the radiation from the fallout, like the Brahmin at the Farmhouse.

His voice, as it broke through your careful watch, “Might not want to meet them alone, but you’ll be fine with me.”

They had halted, when they saw your small party. The rifle slung back over his back, as they signed back in forth - Boba’s slow and exaggerated, with the weight of his armor. The gestures punctuated with calls, carrying with the wind.

You understood none of it - feeling on edge, with their numbers. A little over a half-dozen, armed with carved, tall spears.

“I warned them about the Raiders,” He told you, when your paths finally diverged. “They might use what was left behind. And we’ll need to take a different way back.”

“Why is that?” You asked, though you didn’t have another choice - already throwing a leg over the low fence that he cleared with a step.

The noise he makes buzzed in his helmet. Was he laughing at you?

“You not ready for super mutants, little one.” A sigh, as he added, “They shouldn’t wander this close, I will come back for them later.”

Leaving you to wonder what they were - and certainly not going to push sticking to the path if Boba seemed uncertain - as you followed him over the rough terrain.

Not wanting to think about the bodies being picked over - but you think you understood. That supplies could be scarce, better to take it for yourself than for someone to use it against you.

“Did you know them?” You has asked, once the figures were out of sight again.

“Some.” He has replied.

He told you a little a bit about them. That they lived in nomadic tribes, that he had stayed with one, some years ago. A weight his words that told you that he carried something - regret, grief - that you don’t ask about.

The story interrupted by the sound of scrabbling - the ground shifting beneath your feet. Creatures climbing out of holes - large mole rats with pink, mottled skin and biting teeth.

Another pair of those large roaches, like you had seen after you first left.

Your breath in your throat, they clicked and lunged, the tire iron cool in your fumbling, heated grasp.

A metal hand closing around your wrist as he tugged you behind him. The other reaching for a pistol at his own waist - a kindness, in the way he had fired first.

Even if his words made heat bloom in your chest, embarrassment rising at being so utterly unprepared again.

Definitely not ready.

The rest of the journey, made in silence.

But now - the city looms. You’re grateful to see it, your feet and aching from the hours of walking.

Passing the broken street signs on the side of the old highway. Some things starting to make sense - the edges of them torn off, peppered with bullet holes.

You hadn’t remembered a Mos Espa when you lived here. But there it was now - something new born in the remains of before.

The old name transforming, becoming something else as the sign decayed, letters faded and lost over time.

It’s a skeleton of a town, padded and expanded with hand-made additions. Layers of wood and metal, stacked together with webs of scaffolding connecting them together.

Miles of high fences surrounding the buildings like an embrace, keeping everyone tucked safely inside.

It was impressive. It was a community, and for the first time - there's a relief easing the weight in your chest.

He leads you to the center of the town. A tall rotunda with a dark brick dome, a flight of cracked stone steps cut into the hill to meet it. You wonder where he's taking you - confused by the way people in the streets call to him.

When he had talked before, he had made it seem like he would be passing by. But, he knows people, here.

There's a way that they speak to him that you pick up on, as you still follow close at his heels.

A sort of respect, a reverance.

The wide double doors open for him, bringing you both inside of the old capitol. Inside, it almost feels familiar. Like a moment from your life, before.

Neat floors that are swept clean. A string of actual lights, flickering with electricity. Framing a raised platform that sits between the branches of the ornate, bifurcated staircase. A large seat sits in the middle, pieced together with carved bits of stone and concrete.

A woman lounges on it, lifting up as the doors close behind you. Hair pulled back in a complicated braid, above sharp eyes and an even sharper smile.

"You're back," She calls - as Boba moves to a bright yellow rack, set into the wall of the stairs. "I was thinking about sending Djarin out to look for you."

"Funny." He answers dryly, lining himself up between the metal arms.

And then, there's a hiss. The suit opens.

You watch a man step out, clothed in a dark flight suit. Older than you, powerfully built with a broad chest and broader shoulders. The skin you could see was scarred, but it didn't take away from the depth in his pretty, brown eyes - his handsome face.

A part of you had known, had remembered the power armor advertisements and propaganda from before the Great War. Giant suits of metal, created to carry soldiers.

But you had met him in it - and it had felt like they were one. You hadn't really thought too much about who was beneath.

"I had to track the Raiders further than I anticipated," He comments as he stretches, rolling his shoulders.

Stepping over to an armor stand right next to the rack. Carefully slipping on pieces of a smaller, more compact set - still painted that pretty, dark green, "Ran into a little more than I bargained for."

"I see that." The woman glances you way, where you were left to hover in the doorway, "Who are you, little bluebird?"

You blink at that, glancing down at the bright blue of your Vault suit, before you answer - giving her your name. She smiles, stepping down elegantly from the seat, taking your hand in hers.

Fennec Shand.

She carries herself like a queen - beautifully intimidating, a fighter and a survivor in this new world. You don't know what you could offer her, but you tell yourself to be brave, to try.

"I don't have much, but I will work hard. Would there be room for me to stay?" You ask, hands clasped in front of you.

Terrified this woman will tell you to go - to turn you out after you had come all this way.

Fennec grins, her arms folding over her chest, "Boba Fett is the Daimyo here, sweet girl. Not me. Didn’t he tell you?"

Daimyo.

You remember the word from history classes. Ruler.

Not a mercenary, not an ordinary man. You'd been traveling with the lord of this settlement. All the lands around it - his.

You gape at Boba and he smiles - with a sly curve of his lips, his eyes crinkling with amusement. The rasp of his voice - clearer without the helmet, but still deep and smooth.

"Welcome to Mos Espa, sen'ika"

sen'ika - little bird

thank you for reading! 💚 part iii will be out thursday, the 15th! and if you’d like to get tagged, please fill out the series taglist here!

(0-pressure tags 💕: @spaceydragons, @luladoll, @obiknights, @wingofshadow, @bobathirstaccount, @reluctant-mandalore, @ohheyitsokay, @floral-force, @valentine-tx, @dreamlandcreations, @vellichormybeloved, @dukeoftheblackstar, @writeforfandoms, @winchestershiresauce, @monada43, @rescuethewretched, @thegalaxys-edge, @honeydjarin, @ri-a-rose )

[silverstagspirit]

Survivor of Ramshackle - part 2

Part two is here!

Warnings: Swearing, dark themes, death, lots of death, gore, blood, body horror, vomiting, dead bodies, I am not responsible for what you read.

PART 1 PART 3

-

Everything was flying by so fast. The second they stepped through the portal, it felt like all their insides were being rearranged. Yuu flew past universe by universe. Saw shapes beyond human comprehension, colors that don't exist, and sounds that could never be fathomed. Closing their eyes helped a little, but they were still being thrown around like a rag doll through the space-time continuum. After about 15 minutes of absolute hell, they blacked out. When they regain consciousness, they are lying in the dirt of some unknown place. They picked themselves up. Their body felt like lead. They were sure they were going to have a migraine after this. Looking around, they realized this was a plot of unused land that was located near their hometown. Then it clicked.

They made it

Yuu knew the way to their house from here, so they wasted no time in running home. Heavy pants exhaled from their chest as they sprinted home. Nothing could hold them back anymore. They were finally home. They were giggling like a madman between breaths, and before they knew it, they were already talking out loud to the family members they were yet to meet again.

"MOM!! DAD!! I'M HOME!! I MADE IT!! I KNOW YOU ARE PROBABLY WORRIED, I CAN EXPLAIN!! SOMETHING TOOK ME AWAY BUT I'M SAFE NOW! I HAD SO MUCH FUN THERE WAS MAGIC I SAVED PEOPLE I LEARNED SO MUCH I MADE NEW FRIENDS YOUR GOING TO LOVE THEM SO MUCH I-"

Yuu stopped dead in their tracks. Their town was there. But it was reduced to rubble, ash, and crumbling ruins. There was still smoke coming from the leftover embers.

"..."

They didn't know what to say. The world tilted on its axis. Before they could pass out, however. Yuu found themselves running to their already intended destination. Charred corpses littered the streets of what was once their home. There was complete silence save for their swift, heavy footfalls against the broken tar of the roads, and the increased pounding in their chest. Rounding the block, they could see the sign for their street. It was bent and burnt bit still recognizable. With the last of their stamina, Yuu made the final push to their house. Seeing their home as nothing but a pile of rubble and ash is a sight they never wanted to see. But this is really happening right now. This realization hits even harder when they see their parents charred corpses next to the rubble.

"No," they whispered. Utterly shattered. They were shaking at this point . Both from physical exhaustion and the emotional trauma being inflicted on them. With a shaky hand, Yuu slowly reaches down and holds the skeletal hand of one of their parents. Nothing could stop Yuu from breaking down. Yuu's screams of pure agony filled the sky as tears and snot cascaded down their face. They barely registered themselves falling to the ground and weeping on all fours. It didn't matter. For there was only one thing that existed right now: PAIN.

Yuu whole body hurt like it never did before. There was something coursing through their veins that felt like lava. It was another factor in their screaming. Yuu's throat got tired after the outburst and just gave up after a while. They could only wheeze now as they fell into misery. Not like they even had the energy to make any sound anymore.

Yuu did not wish to look at the ruins of their home anymore. So they lurched their way into the street. Looking down the road, they saw a pile of bodies heaped high. What caught their eye about this, however, is the flag pole that was stuck in the middle on top. The flag had an insignia of some kind. It was threatening. The triangular red flag flowed in the wind like a trail of blood in water. The insignia mocked them of being unable to save their family.

Yuu trudged their way to a lake. Their skin paling and sweat cascaded down thier face with every step they took. Setting eyes on the water, they went to the edge and stuck their whole head in. They felt so thirsty. Yet no matter how much they drank, it still was not enough. Their entire stomach was now filled with water, yet they still needed more. What was happening to them? Their breaths had been labored for some time now, but now they were becoming even more intense. Yuu began to feel nauseous. Something weird was happening inside them. That weirdness turned into pain as they suddenly vomited a whole ton of blood. There was just a thick stream of blood coming from Yuu's mouth, straight into the lake. It was a horrifying sight. Yuu is just emptying out an entire bodies worth of blood. The blood coming out changed from red to black as now they had no blood left in them. Yuu identified the substance even in this state:

Blot

Then it started happening. Yuu was overblotting.

They were so tired they could only slouch there as thier body morphed and changed. Fingers growing sharp claws. Hair turning pitch black. They could feel their clothes changing and materializing more features. Their right eyeball burned like it was on fire. The ink seeping into shapes down their face. The process was surprisingly calm. As if this whole thing would bring them peace. At last.

The ink around them started to morph into a shape. The shape grew features as more ink accumulated around it. The shape began to form into a creature. This creature looked like a biblically accurate angel. Because it was constantly changing between different forms of different creatures. It finally settled on one form, however. It was the form of a three-headed dragon with two tails and a pair of giant wings. Each of the three heads had a crown atop their cracked glass skulls. This thing beared uncanny resemblance to an antagonist Yuu saw in a monster movie once. But judging how it looked like an eldritch creature beforehand, this thing probably has multiple forms like this. That and they remembered seeing somewhere that a multi-headed dragon is one of the forms of the devil.

Yuu's transformation reached its end as they opened their eyes. The fatigue they were feeling earlier was now completely gone as they felt like they could take on the world. They felt so good. They felt powerful, too. They wanted to see for themselves if that was true. They attempted to fire a spell they saw the boys use towards some rubble. To their surprise, a burst of magic sprung forth from their hand and completely demolished it in the blink of an eye. This was amazing. They could do magic now. It made them feel a little bit better. But they were still alone in this world now. Alone, except for their monster. The three-headed dragon peered down at them with its soulless eyes. There was electricity crackling where its mouth should be. It didn't have that many features on its face. But if it did, it would have the face of: "What are you? You are the only living thing here. Do not cross us."

Yuu looked at the creature. The creature looked at them. This was their phantom. This thing would eventually kill them. They knew this, yet they couldn't bring themselves to turn it away. This was the only company they had left. Their family was gone. Their home was gone. And their friends in Twisted Wonderland would never think to look for them. They would die completely alone. Without anyone here to save them. Or even know what happened to them. This was it. The end.

No

They could still do something. The blot was meddling with their mind. But a part of Yuu's morals were still trying to function in a way. But it came out twisted. Their goal now was to destroy whatever killed their people. To stop this from happening to any other world out there. They will end this madness even at the cost of their own life if they must.

Floating their way to the pile of dead bodies they passed earlier, Yuu pulled the flag pole out the heap, snapped it in half over their knee, and threw it away.

-

Sorry this took so long. I hit a brick wall of writers block. Also, I am now doing this series with they/them pronouns as you may have seen. Once again, I apologize for any mistakes. I did not proofread this. Hope you enjoyed it.

Taglist: @kami-kun1003

[tiny-paws]

Pinned post! :3

Hello!! This is a blog run by a few members of our system ( @the-honey-system ) who wanted a space for agere and therian content. We take requests for moodboards, outfits and bags!

Please read our DNI near the bottom of this post before interacting!

introductions, request info and DNI below the cut!! ^^

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

Introductions!

Mikey (he/art/paint) - rottmnt fictive

- age regressor (5-9)

Bee (they/hon/paw) - brainmade

- therian (calico cat)

The Doctor/Ten (any pronouns)

- doctor who fictive

- age regressor (1-5)

Pearl (she/her)

- hermitcraft/life series fictive

- age regressor (6-12)

Tango (flare/spark/cog/char)

- hermitcraft/life series fictive

- age regressor (3-10)

Requests:

We take requests for agere and otherkin/therian related moodboards, outfit boards and bags!

We will do:

✅ fandoms: ben and holly’s little kingom, bluey, bnha, celeste, doctor who (nuwho up to s7), dsmp, D20 fantasy high, glitter force, hazbin hotel/helluva boss, hermitcraft, life series, minecraft, mlp, nimona, pokemon, rottmnt, studio ghibli, the magnus archives, tmnt 2012, turning red, zelda botw/totk

✅ non-fandoms (eg animals, plants, colour schemes, seasons)

✅ moodboards: a collection of photos with a theme, meant to look nice!

✅ outfit boards: clothes and accessories, with a toy or fidget

✅ bags: a backpack/bag with items for a day, such as food, toys, books, etc.

We will not do:

❌ anything in our DNI list

❌ anything religious (only modern religion; ancient religion is okay!)

❌ anything medical in nature (including vets)

❌ diapers (sorry about this one, diapers are super valid, we’ve just had icky experiences)

❌ the dream team (from mcyt)

❌ cc!wilbur soot

Extra notes:

✨ please specify whether your request is agere or therian related! this makes it easier for us to make exactly what you want!

✨ feel free to request something for a fandom not listed—we might say no, but it’s worth a shot! (you might need to be more specific on themes with characters we don’t know!)

✨ be as specific as you want with requests, although if something’s too specific we might not get it perfect. if your request is very general, we may take artistic liberties!

✨ we have the right to deny any request. sometimes we just won’t feel comfortable completing something.

DNI:

- nsfw/k!nk, abd|/dd|g/variants, sh or gore, pro-ed, blogs you wouldn’t show a child

- anti-LGBTQ+, anti-xenogenders/neopronouns, racists, ableists, fatphobes, etc

-anti-agere, anti-otherkin/therian, anti-petre, participants in “cringe culture”, bullies

- tcest, blogs that post abt ince$t/pedoph!lia

- anti-self diagnosis

- syscourse, or discourse in general

(dni banner used in our posts made by @little-catgirlboy)

Tags list!

#mikey chirps — mikey’s posts/rbs

#bee meows — bee’s posts/rbs

# tango purrs — tango’s posts/rbs

#pearl hums — pearl’s posts/rbs

#ten rambles — ten/doctor’s posts/rbs

#little helpers — other members of the system

#tiny paw boards — moodboards/requests

#tiny paw styles — outfits/requests

#tiny paw packs — bags/requests

#tiny paw scribbles — doodles/art

#tiny paw talks — text posts

Userboxes!!

(theyre very fun so we have lots hehe)

(userboxes, in order, made by: @empyrangel, @me-and-the-squad-being-otherkin, @chronicallylav3nd3r, @xenohunt, @inclusysboxes, @omegathetaone, @very-normal-userboxes, @sweetpeauserboxes, @strwbubs, @strwbubs, @scungledfiles, @lil-kibby-zone, @pumpkinangelminnie, @sweetpeauserboxes, @sysboxes, @scungledfiles, @bi-lesbian, @sweetpeauserboxes, @cutevintagetoys, @tazmaboxed, @sysboxes)

[princessfbi]

44. “I do love you, you know. Even if I’m shit at showing it.”

To help untangle your knots, my liege.

44. “I do love you, you know. Even if I’m shit at showing it.”

Buck had a plan. He had a whole plan that he wrote on his phone late at night and then on paper at his kitchen table the next morning. Aside from the coffee cup stain, the plan had been pristine. Buck had fine tuned it, got input from Bobby and then Hen, who... directed him to Karen.

Buck had a plan.

And then everything went to shit.

Buck had left the flowers on his kitchen counter where he’d painstakingly wrapped them in delicate tissue paper instead of the crunchy clear cellophane with the ugly sticker from the store. Then, he’d gotten stuck behind an accident and left to nervously tap his fingers on the steering wheel while half considering getting out to see if the responding unit needed help just to get them to hurry the fuck up!

Eddie had been generous in his forgiveness, smiling at Buck with that soft slant of his lips like he was just about to laugh. Buck had kissed him for every flower left behind and every minute that he was late before he’d all but carried Eddie to the jeep and threw him inside so they could make their dinner reservations.

The dinner reservations Buck had made almost a month prior. A month of planning, stress, more planning, and the occasional bouts of overthinking and insecurity he’d tried desperately to hide from Eddie.

It wasn’t fair. Eddie deserved to be swooped off his feet and romanced just as much as everyone else. He was happiest with the little things, Buck knew that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve the big things too. But romancing came so much easier for Eddie. He was just so good at it and Buck—

It had all been going fine. Dinner, dessert, a walk holding hands and sharing endless kisses, and then dessert back at his loft where Buck had planned on being the midnight snack in something that maybe involved a little bit of lace.

So of course it was when they pulled up to a near empty restaurant and saw the handwritten sign on the door that read CLOSED, that he found out his reservation had been cancelled. One quick look at the charred remains of the kitchen was about all they needed to know why.

No big deal. They could go somewhere else.

Except, no, they couldn’t because out there, in the world, everyone and their brother had also made reservations to any available inch of surface someone could put their butt and eat an overpriced meal with a themed name, a month out to woo their partner what with it being fucking Valentine’s Day and all.

One of Eddie’s favorite holidays and Buck’s biggest source of a panic attack.

He’d been furiously searching for someplace, any place, that wasn’t a fast food chain while biting his lip so hard, it was a miracle he didn’t chew through it. His brain had been cycling through every possible solution he could come up. His mouth had been going too, stumbling out apologies and curses and suggestions that he dismissed before Eddie could get a word in. Meanwhile, Eddie was standing there, not being romanced, and Buck was stupidly trying not to burst into tears at the full on clusterfuck he’d managed to throw together for his boyfriend who did everything for him and deserved the world and—

Strong, soft hands captured Buck's cheeks as nimble fingers pressed into his jaw.

"Baby," Eddie said, his laugh still there like a thunderstorm on his breath.

Buck... Well, it wasn't a pout but it was close and he wasn't proud of it, okay? But he'd wanted everything to go right! Maybe if he could just—

"Buck," Eddie said again, his thumbs pushing underneath his chin to keep Buck's head up. Eddie bullied into Buck's space, pressing up against him, and Buck was only human. He curled his arm around his waist and held him close. Maybe he could trap him from dumping him right there on the spot. "It's alright."

It wasn't alright!

Eddie's thumb pressed across his mouth and forced him to release his lip that was starting to smart from the abuse of his teeth.

"Sweetheart, it's alright. I'm with you. I don't need much more than that."

He kissed Buck before Buck could argue which felt like unfair war tactics but he was only one man. One, weak man who couldn't resist the taste of Eddie's lips against his own.

Buck sighed as they broke apart and dropped his forehead to rest against Eddie's.

“I do love you, you know. Even if I’m shit at showing it.”

Buck expected a lecture but Eddie just rolled his eyes and kissed him again.

"I love you too."

[mk-writes-stuff]

Writer Interview/Questionnaire Tag

Rules: answer the questions

Thanks @kaylinalexanderbooks and @moltenwrites for the tags!

About Me

When did you start writing?

In the fourth grade! I had a school assignment, but I was so excited to finally write about my OC (I had exactly one OC at the time). I still have the story, it’s awful :)

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

I read the same things I write, for the most part. There are definitely things I read that aren’t quite what I would write, but my general preferences are the same

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

Uhhh… I feel like Brandon Sanderson influenced me a lot. So did Alison Luhrs. But I don’t really intentionally emulate anyone, I just kind of write.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I write on my laptop on whatever reasonably soft surface is available, usually curled up like a shrimp. I’m working on having better writing posture but it’s a work in progress

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Most of my ideas come from developing a special interest and then talking to my gf for six hours about it. In terms of getting motivation to write, I am extremely bad at that, so I’ll get back to you :)

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?

They did more when I was younger. You can still see shades of it sometimes, but not that much I don’t think

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?

Oh, absolutely. Recovery from trauma and abuse is probably the biggest one. The idea that healing is possible and the idea that, while there are shitty people out there, most people mean well, are two important ones. That and that every single person acts how they do for a reason. That reason might be that they’re selfish and entitled, but they have one

Characters:

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

I’m assuming you mean OCs (if we’re talking about fandom it’s Captain Rex from the Clone Wars) so I’ll go with Tatum because I can’t stop thinking about them recently

Tatum is a character from the Pirates’ Roost, and they’ve been through the fucking wringer. When you first meet them, they’re an unwilling lackey for a violently abusive captain who forces them to hurt and torture innocent people. They’re also dying of cancer and said captain has the only medicine keeping them alive. They get a recovery arc, absolutely, but there’s a lot of awful shit that happens to Tatum, including two separate awful exes, vampires, a stranger with magical drugs, their backstory reveal, and their extremely racist shitty teenage brother (don’t worry he gets better). They’re a really complicated character with a lot of depth and a lot of issues and their healing arc means a lot to me

They also are beefing with a bird and the bird is winning, so… they’ve got range :)

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Hmmm. I think I would absolutely be pals with Stellaris. He’s a sweetie, and we’d have good autism to autism communication. I also think I could be friends with Corbin, the boatswain of the Sea Star, although honestly Corbin’s pretty friendly with anyone who does their job so he’s not too picky

Which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?

…Narcissus (although he is my gf’s OC). He’d annoy me so much

Honestly I’d dislike pretty much all the villains in my stories, they’re all pretty intolerable people. Special shout-out to the Thief from To Kill a Dead Thing though, because he’s not only a terrible person but also absolutely terrifying

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

My gf comes up with some of them and helps me brainstorm a lot of them. The original concepts usually just kind of pop into my head, and I start building off of that, adding on details as they become relevant. It’s kind of hard to explain. Occasionally, I’ll see a character with some really compelling elements in a published work and use those for a base, but again, I’ll develop my own spin on them

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

Trauma. Pretty much all the major characters in my works have trauma. Other than that, a few recurring archetypes that tend to pop up:

Absolutely jacked lesbian

Extremely autistic

Small/dainty/effeminate woman with a personality of steel

Very pretty man

Mildly persnickety doctor who probably has too much on their plate

How do you picture your characters?

My brain. Also picrew, especially this one

My writing:

What’s your reason for writing?

Because I like it. Also it’s a good way to get my ideas out of my head to share them with other people

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

Anything! (That’s not hate obviously). But probably my personal favourite is specific questions/speculation. I eat that up

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Um… I guess I’d like them to think I’m kind of cool? “Person who’s pretty friendly and made this cool thing” is my goal

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Characters and worldbuilding. Those are my two favourite aspects and I think I delve into them really well

What have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

I’ve been told my characterization and portrayal of complex/dark situations is good

How do you feel about your own writing?

I love it! Sometimes it’s not perfect but it caters to all my tastes. I reread my old work sometimes honestly, I just like it :)

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?

Absolutely. I’d miss the feedback, but I’d still do it. It would give me something to pass the time, and I like what comes out

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

I write primarily for myself, but I do consider what others might enjoy. In the end, I prioritize what I want to write, but if I can also give some focus to what others might like, I want the people who put in the effort of reading my stuff to feel rewarded for that too

Thanks again for inviting me to do this one, it was great! @illarian-rambling @paeliae-occasionally @somethingclevermahogony @touloserlautrec would y’all like to give this one a go?

[just-a-carrot]

OMG I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE :((((

(You don't need to awnser this as long as you see it DX)

afdkjadsf it's ok honestly

there are just certain parts and/or themes of the game i don't feel super comfortable actively discussing (even beyond anything of the suggestive/NSFW variety)

in a way, i think of the game itself like my safe space to explore my ideas and experiences in a place that feels personal. obviously i do end up sharing the game itself, but while creating, it exists in this realm that's all my own for my own catharsis and working through my own issues, etc. but then transitioning over into actively discussing some of those things with people, in a public setting, and especially some of the themes that hit closer to home, i just don't always feel very comfortable. i would rather keep some of them relegated to the game itself, at least in my head (ofc others can discuss these things amongst themselves if they are comfortable discussing them, but i personally as the creator just would rather not enter into those discussions)

but it's not like i even always know when something will pop up that i don't want to discuss (again, beyond suggestive/NSFW stuff) though it's often the case for a lot of the chars' past struggles, issues, traumas, etc. since so many of them are rooted in a lot of my own, and no one else can know that either. so i will just say that i'm uncomfortable with it and would rather not answer, but you don't need to feel bad about it, it's fine

[lagt-duck]

Day 30 of Monkey May!

Monkey!

Aka

The BEST MONKEYS, celestial kind~ for those of you that have a keen eye you would notice that macaque eyes already made an appearance in this challenge!

More lore about them under read more

Okay so in order they are

Baboon Gibbon Wukong and Macaque

Baboon Is in part inspired by a mandrill but mostly for the dark fur color, he has a yin yang symbol as eye in both eyes, to reference his descriptor by Buddha.

Then Gibbon, mostly I based on aesthetic space art, and how I personally draw sunsets, he even gets sparkly anime eyes because of that XD, again the space/star theme is because of his descriptor, which he shares some parts with Wukong but I think wukong is more defined by his transformations then his planet and stars part.

Then of course we have Wukong

And last everyone's favorite Macaque, who's design is mostly based on vibes EXCEPT the fur.

This is because in my designs all the celestial monkeys were born with white/very light fur, but then after some personal growth they grow into their actual fur color.

Wukong fur is actually golden but he has to outgrow the fact that he is a bit charred by the furnace!

If you guys have more questions feel free to blast me about it!!!

As always the challenge belongs to @vorpaldoodles who deserves your attention!