#still not to the point where she'd agree with anything he does

[aangarchy]

Ok but the fact aang is a child. And thinks u have to forgive someone who killed ur family. I bet Monk gyatso and the others were rolling in their graves devastated they can't ever tell Aang the real deal that he would've been told when he got older.

Monk gyatso probably: NO AANG. ITS JUST ABT LETTING GO

Ah, yet another shining example of someone who missed the entire point of the show.

If you think monk Gyatso would be "rolling in his grave" (which he doesn't even have, and i'm pretty sure air nomads don't do graves anyway) to see Aang grant Ozai mercy, you have completely misunderstood what air nomad culture represents. Air is the element of freedom. Yes, it's about letting go, not having any attachments. But not having attachments also means letting go of your feelings of hatred, letting go of grudges, and not letting your feelings consume you. Aang understands that remaining angry and bitter will not bring his people back. All he can do, is try his best to preserve and protect his culture, and part of that culture is an oath of pacifism. Aang choosing to spare Ozai does not mean he forgives him, or his predecessors for what they have done to the world. Instead, he lets go of his anger and hatred towards them so he himself can be free. Maybe eventually Aang will forgive them, but i personally don't believe it's then and there.

If anything, monk Gyatso would be proud of the decision Aang made in the end. It's the ultimate middle finger to the fire nation to show that they failed at destroying the air nation. Aang is not only a symbol of hope for the other remaining nations to end the war, but also for his own culture to prevail, and keep existing in whatever limited form Aang can preserve.

I think what you're referring to is TSR, with "thinks u have to forgive someone who killed ur family", when he tried to teach Katara about letting go and forgiving. Aang wasn't doing that bc he's against Katara getting justice. If anything, he agreed Katara needed to face Yon Rah for her own closure. But he's not trying to teach Katara forgiveness so he can save Yon Rah, he's doing it so he can save Katara. He knew that if Katara went through with this she'd get consumed by hate and anger for the rest of her life. Zuko even admitted in the end that Aang was right about what Katara needed, and it wasn't killing her mother's killer. And Katara did end up forgiving someone at the end of the episode, namely Zuko. Katara still learned and accepted Aang's lesson by the end, when at first she insisted forgiveness was impossible.

Also I think you're forgetting that Air nomads swear a non violence oath. Gyatso swore this oath as well. So again, idk where you're getting this idea that Gyatso would be "rolling in his grave" to see Aang stick to this oath.

[agentvalentine]

i've got everything under control.

"LET ME HELP YOU" PROMPTS

“Do you, really?” Jill scoffs. “Are you sure about that?” She watches in silence as the door closes behind Excella. Wesker and his routine injections.

It took her a moment to piece it together. At first, Jill thought the injection was a virus. Something he had to repeatedly inject himself with to maintain the same level of strength. That the effects wear off eventually. But through observation alone, watching the way his body seems to attack him every time it starts craving a new injection, she realized it was actually something else entirely. Quite the opposie of what she thought. The injection isn’t a virus. It’s a serum to stop the virus that’s already inside his body from destroying it completely. Destroying him.

“I think it’s a little funny. Your body’s rotting away, and you have to depend on a serum to keep it glued together and functioning. I’m not sure how you can rule a world from the grave. But then again, maybe that’s why you’re trying to destroy the world in the first place.”

[periprose]

Sweet as Nuka Cola

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader

You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?

Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)

Word Count: 11k

“Action!”

“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”

Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.

You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.

But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.

“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”

“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”

“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.

“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image. 

“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent. 

You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”

“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.

You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea. 

You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.

“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.

You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.

“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.

“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”

You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”

“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”

Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.

He says your name.

“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”

“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”

You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”

“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit  that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”

“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”

The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.

“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.

“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”

“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”

/

The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.

He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.

So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.

He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.

“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.

He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.

Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.

Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.

This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking. 

Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.

He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.

There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.

He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.

He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.

“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.

A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick. 

It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.

Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.

“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”

He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.

Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.

Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.

He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.

“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.

Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.

Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.

There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”

To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.

Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.

Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.

He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.

Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.

Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.

A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did. 

/

You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.

It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home. 

Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.

It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.

You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.

“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”

“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”

“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins. 

“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.

“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.

“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”

It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.  

Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.

“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”

“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”

“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”

Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.

“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.

It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.

You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.

“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”

Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.

“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”

“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”

“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”

“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”

“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.

“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”

“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.

“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”

“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”

“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.

Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.

He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.

“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.

/

A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.

No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.

“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”

You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.

“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.

“Was it good?” 

“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”

Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.

It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.

You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.

“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”

“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.

Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.

You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.

“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.

“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”

“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”

“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.

“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.

“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”

“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”

You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.

Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?” 

“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.   

“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.

“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”

Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”

He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”

Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”

“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”

“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.

“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.

Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you. 

“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”

“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”

Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?

“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”

“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.

“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”

“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”

Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.

“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.

“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.

“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”

That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.

He loved being the hero, really.

He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.

“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.

Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.

“Backlash, really?” You whisper. 

“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”

“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together. 

“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.

And you absolutely are.

“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does. 

“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.

He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.

God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.

He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.

“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”

You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes. 

“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist. 

“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”

/

It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.

You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things. 

“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.

You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways. 

You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?

So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.

You shudder.

You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.

/

The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.

Oh fuck. 

It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.

Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you. 

“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”

You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.

“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course. 

“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”

“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”

“...”

“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body. 

“I said, how is that any different from before?” 

“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.

“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”

“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”

“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.

“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.

“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad. 

“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”

“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.

“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”

“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.

“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”

“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember). 

“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself. 

“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”

“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.

Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.

Now he thinks you're just unfinished business. 

“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.

He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.

Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”

“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.

“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”

It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.

“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”

“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.

The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”

You flinch, and he stops. 

“Oh, God, my eyes–”

The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses. 

You blink, tears rolling down your face. 

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room. 

It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.

“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”

Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”

How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?

“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”

Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”

You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.

You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.

Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.

/

He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day. 

It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders. 

But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.

Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.

No wonder he enjoys his casket time.

/

Coop sighs.

Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.

The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.

He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.

It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.

But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.

Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.

He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.

He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.

A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.

Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–

A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.

He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.

No way is he letting easy money pass by him.

He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.

It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.

Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.

And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.

You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”

He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.

Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–

You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.

You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.

Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.

“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.” 

Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.

“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.

He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.

But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.

You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.

You’re angry at the state of the world. 

“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.

“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”

Coop is actually drawn to silence.

“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”

You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.

Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.

You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”

It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.

He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.

Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.

You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain. 

Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.

“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”

“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”

“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”

You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.

“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”

You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.

“Alright.” You whisper.

“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does. 

The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.

/

Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out. 

He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.

Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.

Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his. 

You laugh at something the guy next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.

He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.

He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.

You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.

There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.

Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.

You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.

“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”

“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.

“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.

“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth. 

“Bullshit.”

“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”

“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”

“Nah. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”

“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular. 

Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.

“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.

“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”

You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist. 

He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.

It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.

What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?

“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”

You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.

He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.

“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.

“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”

This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.

Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?

He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.

You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.

Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.

He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.

“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.

“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”

“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”

“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”

It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition. 

[lustfulslxt]

Taking of the Virginity - Matt Sturniolo

summary : you and your best friend, matt, decide to lose your virginities to each other.

warnings : are we paying attention here? helloooo, sex.

a/n : another one of my ao3 stories <3

—

matt and ari were home alone at her house. her parents were on a little anniversary trip and matt's brothers were too busy to hangout. so, the two just did what they normally did; went on a walk, watched movies, scrolled through tiktok, and played games. they didn't have to do much to have a good time with one another.

"wanna spend the night?" ari asks her friend of 6 years.

"i would love to." matt smiled at her.

the two kicked back on the couch, music playing on the tv and they just talked and vibed with one another. matt was sitting normally, and ari was laying across the couch with her head on his lap as he played with her hair.

"let's play a game." she speaks.

"what game?"

she thought for a minute, "hmm. i don't know."

"you don't know?" matt repeats, laughing. "do you at least know what kind of game you want to play?"

"nothing that involves getting up. i'm comfortable." she grins up at him.

"like what? ispy?" matt teases.

ari scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes, "that's actually a great game while you're tryna be funny."

matt just giggles at her, but agrees nonetheless. "how about 21 questions?"

"we know quite a bit about each other already, but i'm down."

"we don't know everything." matt points out.

"i didn't say everything, matthew. i said quite a bit." she retorts, "you go first."

he ponders for a moment, "what do you wanna be when you grow up?"

ari gives matt a look before bursting into a fit of giggles. just the sight and sound of her laughing, matt can't help but join in, especially since it was a silly question.

"when i grow up, i want to be an artist. you know this, matty."

"i don't know what else to ask!" he exclaims in defense.

"we do know everything about each other." ari concludes.

matt sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact as he states, "well, not everything."

"what's that supposed to mean?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"um, well.."

"spit it out, matthew."

"i can't!" he explains, "it's kind of dirty i guess."

"like sexual?" she questions, to which he nods. "do you have something you want to ask?"

after what felt like forever, matt finally caves, "are you a virgin?"

ari pauses, quite unsure of how to answer that. "i don't really know."

her response threw matt off by a lot. either you've had sex or you haven't. what's there to be unsure about?

"okay, now i'm confused. what does that even mean?"

"well," she starts, sighing, "there was this one time where i guess we started to, but he was making me really uncomfortable and being rough, not caring that it was my first time, so i made him stop."

realization then dawned on matt's face. that's why her and her ex boyfriend randomly broke up, she never wanted to talk about it so everyone kind of just let it go.

"basically, he was inside me for a minute. but neither of us finished and we didn't actually do anything, so i don't know if i'm still technically a virgin or not."

"do you want to be?" matt asks her.

her eyes widened, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. "wait! it's my turn!"

matt sighs, before putting his hand out and gesturing for her to proceed.

"are you a virgin?"

"you can't ask me the same question!"

"why not? i wasn't shown a rule book where it said that. were you?" she retorts, squinting her eyes as she knew the answer.

"well, no, but." matt pauses, before giving in as he knew she'd keep pestering him. "i am a virgin, yes."

it wasn't that he didn't have the chance to lose it, he just didn't want to. well not that he didn't want to, he just didn't want to with the girls that gave him the opportunity.

"really?!" ari shouts, extremely surprised at his revelation.

"why do you sound so shocked?" matt asks, defensively.

ari shrugs with a little grin, "you just seem like you've already had sex."

"i don't even know what that means." he laughs at her.

"why haven't you had sex?" ari asks him, "you've had girlfriends before, and i know at least one of them has wanted to."

matt shrugs, "i don't know. they didn't really pique my interest like that."

"who does?"

matt just looked at her. he could not answer that question. not because he genuinely didn't have an answer, but because the answer scared him and would most definitely scare her. the person who piques his interest is her, his childhood best friend. for some reason, the only time he can see himself having any kind of sexual relations with someone is if it's with her, which blows his mind because he knows it would never happen.

it was just something about her though. and sex wasn't just sex to him. he doesn't think he could just have sex with whoever. sure, the pleasure is there, but he feels there's more to it. like there's a connection that is more than just pleasure, he needs that. saying that, maybe that's why he could only ever picture it with her; because they've got a strong relationship and they love each other.

he clears his throat, "i get to ask 2 questions, since you did."

ari rolls her eyes with a smile on her lips, but still shrugs.

"if you could do it right now, would you?" he asks her.

"i guess it depends." she responds, honestly.

"on what?"

"depends on who it's with."

ari knew exactly who she would give herself to if she could. matthew. he was always so soft and gentle and loving with her, she knew he would be the same in bed. finding out he's also a virgin, made her want it even more. not only was he also inexperienced, but she could be the first one to make him feel good. not that she would ever get the chance, seeing as they're only friends, but it was wishful thinking. and now that the thought has entered her mind, it wouldn't leave.

same goes for him.

after a moment, matt speaks up again, his voice slightly nervous. "what about with me?"

ari couldn't help but stare at him with wide eyes and her mouth agape. she couldn't tell if he was just teasing her or if he was being serious.

"sorry, i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. i don't want it to be weird or anything, i just thought—well i don't know what i thought. i guess i was just thinking that, maybe, since we're both virgins, we could lose it to each other. but if that's weird, just forget about it." he rambles on.

ari was still stunned, not expecting the suggestion in the slightest. once she recovered from the shock, she stood up from the couch. matt's stomach dropped, thinking he just ruined everything between them. however, ari just reaches her hand out to him.

since he only sat there, looking at her unsure, she says, "do you want to go upstairs with me or not?"

he almost leaps off the couch, grabbing her hand and following her to her bedroom. both of them were nervous, yet excited. once she shut them in her room and locked the door, she turned to face him. the two stood there kind of awkwardly.

"um, so how do you want to do this?" she asks him.

"ari, if this is uncomfortable for you, we don't have to do anything. i promise, it's not a big deal. i won't be mad, we'll still be friends. it's okay."

"no!" she quickly blurts out, her cheeks flushing with color at her outburst. "i really do want this."

both of them knew this was something that should come easy and not feel forced, and it didn't feel forced, but they were both scared to make the first move. that was until, matt stepped closer to her.

he grabbed her hands, interlocking their fingers, and as he stared into her eyes for any sign of hesitance, he leaned closer to her and asked, "can i kiss you?"

ari felt her breath catch in her throat and only now realized that this is something she's been longing for. she wanted matt in a way that she was now getting, it felt surreal. to answer his question, she gives him a nod, and with that, he softly grabs her face with one hand and places his mouth on hers.

the two moved in sync, their lips lapping one another's perfectly. matt placed his other hand on her lower back and pulled her closer to him, their bodies flushing together. ari's hands move towards his neck, playing with his hair. their kiss soon turned more heated as he licked her bottom lip for entrance, which she gave him. their tongues fought for dominance, matt won and began exploring her mouth with his tongue.

they were blending so perfectly. this was something the both of them had been yearning for and they couldn't get enough. matt pulled away from her, slightly out of breath. their lips were plump and red, saliva coating the both of them.

he placed his forehead on hers, "are you sure you want to do this?"

"i promise you i've never been more sure of something." she swears.

he nods, and his hands find the hem of her shirt. "would you mind if i took this off?"

she smiles at his nervousness and thoughtfulness, pulling her shirt over her head before grabbing his hand, "matty, i want you to have all of me. as long as you go easy, i'm yours."

"okay. just let me know if, at any point, you want to stop. and will you be vocal with me? not saying like put on a whole pornographic show, but can you tell me what you like and what you don't?"

ari giggles at him and nods, pulling him closer. she plants a soft kiss on his lips and looks him into his eyes. "i promise i will tell you what i do and do not like. so long as you do the same."

after he gives her a nod of agreement, he walks her over to her bed. he softly pushes her down, then pulls his shirt off, and the two stare at each other.

ari couldn't help but blush under his intense gaze. she felt a little self conscious, only ever being in this predicament once and it went completely opposite of the way she wanted. however, matt's stare gave her butterflies and made her feel good. she felt beautiful under his eyes and he hadn't even commented on her appearance.

matt couldn't help but admire her. there she laid, in nothing but little shorts. her hair was spread out over the bed and she looked up at him with a bashful smile. her boobs were bare and laid perfectly on her chest, her nipples hardening with every second. she was a masterpiece and he never wanted to forget was she looked like. he was mentally taking thousands of pictures, in hopes of remembering her this way forever.

ari felt cold and bare, so she hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pulled him on top of her. the two laughed a bit together, and matt couldn't help but stare at her some more.

"what?" she asks with a slight frown. "do i not look right? we don't have to do this if y-"

matt cut her off with a deep kiss. he kissed her like it was the last time he'd ever see her, like he was putting every ounce of love he's ever had into it. it left her breathless when he pulled away.

"ari, baby you are so fucking beautiful and there's nothing more that i want right now, than to make you feel good. but i'm gonna take my time and admire you along the way. okay princess?"

her face turned beet red and she couldn't help but pull him into her, smashing her lips on his. everything about him was turning her on. not just her body, but her soul. his scent, his smile, the way his eyes sparkle when he looks at her, the way he kisses her so passionately as if he can't breathe without her, the way his touch feels like it's burning her skin in the most satisfying way.

matt pulled away from their kiss and moved his face to the crook of her neck. his lips trailed soft open mouth kisses up and down her neck, causing goosebumps to flare on her skin. she couldn't help but let out soft quiet moans, basking in the tenderness of his lips. just the sound of her whimpers and heavy breathing was enough to get him rock hard.

his head moved lower and lower, showing love to her boobs. he squeezed and sucked and tweaked her nipples, leaving dark purple and blue bruises on her skin. the feeling of his mouth on her had her panties already drenched, she couldn't help but buck her hips up into his.

matt's hands were roaming up and down her body, squeezing in all the right places. he was taking his time with her, softening her up and making her as comfortable and into it as he could.

"can you take off your pants?" ari asked him, a blush washing over her cheeks.

he looked up at her with a grin and kissed the corner of her lips, "yeah. do you wanna take yours off too?"

she nods and they both take their bottoms off, leaving them bare naked. ari crossed her legs to hide her core, somewhat self conscious as it's her first time being with matt this way. she couldn't help but watch him as he slowly stroked himself, he was very big and hard.

matt then opens her legs, giving her soft kisses on her navel. "you don't have to be shy, baby."

her stomach was in knots, twisting in anticipation. she was still a little nervous, but she wanted it so bad. matt continued to kiss lower, his mouth now working on her inner thighs. he could see her arousal dripping from her pussy and his mouth watered at the sight.

"you're so wet for me." he grinned up at her. "can i taste you?"

she quickly nods, her hands running through his soft hair. the second he places soft kitten licks against her heat, she can't help but grip his hair. he then pushes his whole tongue flat against her, wiggling it up and down.

"oh wow." she moans out, "mm, it feels really good."

her words only encourage matt and he keeps going, devouring more and more of her. his tongue laps her folds, sucking every bit of her. ari was trembling underneath him. her grip on his hair was tight and she couldn't help but push him more into her pussy.

"you taste so good, i could eat you forever." he moans against her, the vibrations going right through her.

she was soaked, from her own juices on top of his saliva, it was like a slip and slide. while matt focused his mouth on her clit, his hand travels up her thigh, massaging along the way. her eyes looked down at him, feeling his hand go further up. they held eye contact and he paused, making sure she was comfortable with it. when she gave him the green light, he brought his hand closer to her entrance.

she was a moaning mess underneath him, her legs were shaking and her hips were bucking. he dragged his middle finger up and down her folds, causing her to let out another breathy moan. while his tongue worked on her sensitive bundle of nerves, he slipped his finger inside her. she slightly jerked as he moved it in and out, clenching around him. she could feel her climax coming soon. matt continued to pump his finger, adding another after a few moments.

"does this feel good?" he asks her.

"yes, matty." she moaned out, her toes curling. "i'm so close."

he could feel her legs tightening around him, one of her hands gripping his hair while the other gripped the sheets beneath them. she was now simply melting away into a puddle.

"cum for me, darling." he says to her, his voice holding a light rasp to it. "i want you to cum in my mouth."

she felt like all the breath was sucked out of her, in the most blissful way possible. her legs stretched out, tightening enough to get a charlie horse. both of her hands were in his hair again as she pushed his face more into her core. she was trembling under him. full moans were slipping from her lips as she released.

matt watched in awe, absolutely in love with the way she looked. how she quaked and quivered, involuntarily shaking from the pleasure coursing through her. he enjoyed every drop of her, licking and sucking all of it up.

"do you wanna taste?" he asks her, his tongue wrapping around one of his fingers.

she bashfully nods, pulling him up to her. she placed his middle finger in her mouth and sucked. he could feel his dick twitching at the sight alone. as soon as she pulled his hand away, he smashed his lips on hers. their kiss was heavy and rushed, both of them tasting her on their tongues.

"do you still want to..?" he asks, trailing off.

he knew she just had an orgasm and didn't want to push her if she changed her mind about doing more.

"i promise, matt." she assures him once more. "i want this. i want you."

with that, he was back over her and between her legs. he lined himself up with her entrance, looking at her for approval again. with an exasperated sigh, she pulled him into her, hard. she didn't want to wait anymore. she's given him confirmation multiple times, and she appreciates his need to constantly make sure she's still okay with it, but she just wanted him so bad. 

a sharp gasp left her mouth as he pushed himself further in, it felt like she was tearing. he stopped about halfway, letting her adjust. after a moment, she gave him a nod for him to keep going. matt let a groan slip from his lips once he was fully buried in her pussy. she was so hot and wet, and the fit was tight.

"oh my god." he shudders, already wanting to cum. he took a deep breath before continuing, "let me know when you want me to move."

only a short moment later, she whispered, "okay, im ready."

his thrusts started off slow, and his hands traveled from her hips up to her face, cupping it as he plants soft kisses on her lips. he could feel her moans against his mouth, showing him that he was doing it right.

"faster." she moaned out, her legs wrapping around his waist.

he didn't want to just obliterate her, well he did. but he wasn't going to, he knew to control himself. he interlocked their hands as he picked up the pace. he was thrusting in and out of her so perfectly, both of them couldn't help the moans that escaped their mouths.

"you feel so good wrapped around me." he moans out, his hands squeezing hers.

"i love when you talk like that." she smiles, breathless from pleasure.

"oh yeah?" he smirks, his hands finding themselves on her boobs, squeezing them tenderly as he slightly quickened his thrusts. "do you like this? do i make you feel good?"

hearing matt speak to her like this, when he's fucking her the way he is, had her stomach twisting. she was so euphoric right now. she wouldn't want this any other way, everything was exactly right.

"yes, oh fuck!" she moaned loudly, "right there, matty."

"let go, baby. just let go." he whispers against her lips.

he continued drilling her exactly the same, knowing that would drive her over the edge. and it did. she was practically convulsing below him. her face was contorted, her eyes squeezed shut with her eyebrows furrowed. her mouth was hung open, moans spilling out left and right.

"good girl."

he kissed her deep. she looked so beautiful to matt, and the sight of her orgasming, brought him to his edge. he couldn't help it, his dick twitched and hot spurts of nut shot into her. their juices blending together as he continued pumping in and out of her. both of their breathings were heavy once he finally pulled out. he slowly flopped down next to her, both of their eyes connected.

"oh my god." ari whines. "that was simply the best thing i've ever done. thank you."

matt giggles, "it was perfect, but you don't have to thank me."

"no, honestly. you were perfect. you were so loving and gentle, you cared about my satisfaction. you checked with me multiple times. it couldn't have been better, and i appreciate the way you fucked me."

both of them were giggling now. matt pulls her closer, his body wrapping around hers perfectly. he put his lips on hers, kissing her soft and passionately.

"i don't want to make things weird, but is this gonna change anything?" he asks her.

"do you want it to?" she responds.

"would you hate me if i do?" he stares at her so intensely. "i definitely don't want you doing this with anyone else."

she let out a loud laugh, pulling him in for another kiss. "i'm all yours, matty."

he smiled, brightly, and planted another kiss on her lips. "good." another kiss. "and i'm yours." another kiss. "and i promise i will get plan b for you in the morning. sorry, we didn't use a condom."

surprisingly, ari didn't even care. she was just happy with everything that took place the entire night. it was definitely something she would never forget, and something she couldn't wait to experience again. over and over.

a/n : not proofread, what's new? i've got one more one shot on ao3 and it's chrissyy pooh <3 please keep sending requests! i live for this shittt. like fr, i'll do whatever bby

[honey-minded-hivemind]

For the Hulk vs. Wolverine/Wolverine and the X-Men platonic yandere au, imagine a Reader who was either being spied on by Weapon X, or who somehow just kept following them from time to time, maybe foiling their plans (and trying to keep the poor traumatized *ssholes alive)... H*ck, maybe Reader was someone who was a potential candidate for the program...

Reader just ends up stuck with them somehow, keeps stopping them from dying or being killed off, and is at first hated or seen as weak... Except Reader still does them solids and favors without asking for anything in return or expecting anything, which leads to the growth of some... softer... feelings of the mutants for once. Because that little idiot who keeps being nice, even if they're hurt for it, is THEIR sweet little idiot or friend or pup or whatever. So they obviously should be allowed to stay...

It comes to a head when Reader actually tries to leave, be it move on to other things or somehwefe new, or abandon the group if they were part of the program, leading to mixed emotions and reactions...

🧡🦡Logan would want Reader to leave, h*ck, he's probably setting something up so they can leave amd slip away without anyone catching them. If he can, he'd leave with them... This helps activate his dad instincts, and whether he remembers this or not, he does remember Reader's scent, and that he sees them as someone to protect...

🦁🦷Sabretooth hates the idea of Reader leaving, having a soft spot for them and Logan, but would rather have them with him, make them stronger, get them to stay and not even think of leaving the program him! Would hunt them down and try try force them to stay, would even make them forget certai things if he could.

🎭💙Mystique, if she was still there at that point in time, would realize she wants Reader someone safe, where they can have a life, be innocent or at least free, and tries to help them, even if it's only in small ways. Would toss someone off a cliff for getting in Reader's way of escaping (so, the majority of everyone-)

❤🐼Deadpool would find the idea funny. Leave them? After everything? Quite the kidder, eh, kiddo? Well... that joke wasn't very funny, was it? He's against it, but treats it like a game. He won't stop Reader from trying... but he will chase them and give them a hard time, eventually dragging them back, because, look, hey, they're his buddy~! And buddies don't leave buddies behind! Reader put so much effort into them already, so why give in now?

⚡💛Maverick, if he is there at that point in time, wants what he thinks is best for Reader (his small memories/dad instincts popping up). He thinks they're safe wherever he is, so if he's with Weapon X, then Reader will join them, no matter how much of a tantrum them throw. He understands it's not... soft, being what they are or doing what they do, but he can keep them safe. The rest of the mutants? The people they all hint for a living? They can't. So it's best Reader gives in and joins them and makes it easier on themself, or they'll have to use discipline, and no one wants that...

🔪🗡Lady Deathstrike is probably fond of Reader, especially if they were kind to her or said she was beautiful or right about something. She doesn't care much if they stay or if they go, but she wants to know where they are, who they're with, and wants updates on everything they do. She's controlling, wanting a perfect version of them...

🩸🐙Omega Red would probably not care much either way. If he's soft for Reader, they were likely treating him like a person, someone who bleeds and can hurt and who needs care. Would agree Reader should stay with them, but wouldn't want to break them too much... If he thought they'd be killed, I will say he would let them go. Whatever chance guarantees their survival is what he chooses in the end...

🦡💛 If Laura/X-23 is around (depends on when this takes place), she'd be younger, so she views Reader as the closest she has to a sibling or friend. Wants them, because they're comforting and nice and sneak her treats, but doesn't understand yet that if they stayed or joined them, they'd be broken the way she and the others are... If Reader did leave, they left Laura a few gifts, mainly anything Reader had that Laura liked, so she'd have some form of comfort after Reader was gone...

No matter what, they're all somehow attached, whether they like it or not, and Reader attempting to leave them would likely crack the fragile peace they made... And if Reader did manage to escape... they're going to have to watch their back for a very long time...

(Imagine this if you want for X-Men Evolution! I'm just trying out this other X-Mem series and seeing if I like it! Enjoy this honey fresh from the comb!💛🧡🐝🍯🧪)

[xylomane]

𝙎𝙤... 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚...

Ft. Diluc Ragnvindr Context: You're bored after he left for work and he called you somewhere at night to ask if you want anything from the malls since he just so happened to stop by one. Teasingly and craving for naught, you ask him to buy you a lingerie. You wonder just what kind he'll pick. Does he even know those...?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Ｄｉｌｕｃ

"Huh? what's wrong? It's just a lingerie, you're the one with a problem not me." You say nonchalantly through the phone. "B-but listen, okay? I'm not good at this and even if I am-" You dropped the call, not even motivated to listen to anymore of his stammers. He's cute but still. It's been fifteen minutes since you requested him for a lingerie and he's still not convinced to agree? How will you know his favorites now?You can't wait another day. You needed to know his preferences.

Diluc knew to himself that he really didn't mean to disappoint. He just... never saw himself suitable for these kinds of things. He is a gentleman of course, with a name and a status to protect. He can't just show up in a lingerie store and attract some attention, his sex life would be questioned if somebody were to recognize him. (Diluc is famously known as the son of the founder of the most successful wine company in the entire world)

Diluc, knowing himself as a pleaser, didn't want to disappoint you any further so he sends you a text to assure you that he'll make it happen: "I'm sorry darling, I promise I'll get you one. I hope it is to your liking." The moment he hits the 'send' button, he rubs his face and sighs.

Diluc goes straight back inside his black car to drive to one of his most trusted tailors. He has given them many commisions regarding clothing before, and they always come out stunning. He let himself relax over the cushioned seat of his car, picturing whatever kind of reaction you'll have on your face until he arrived at the pavement before the tailor's building.

Diluc tried. He really did. He declined the offer for a designer because he wanted the lingerie designed only by him. If he were to still get a designer for it, it might take a day or two before it gets finished. Plus... it's a little... embarrassing. Diluc gets uneasy just by thinking about it.

Diluc needed it done by midnight and it's currently 10:00pm. He knew he needed to hurry but now that he himself, being known to always have a phrase ready on any occasion, had been explaining for about half an hour to a tailor that felt like he was suddenly speaking gibberish, there's no doubt that the chances of making the lingerie might be delayed.

Finally, the tailor sighed at him, exasperated with all the mind work to understand his stammers. She simply told him, "Paper and pencil. Show me when ready." And she hands him two objects that made Diluc's confidence stutter.

Diluc stares at the paper and he feels his cheeks burn with shame. It felt like his confidence just depleted. He knows full well she's just as stressed as he is because, hearing himself, the conversation did not make any sense. But was it really that bad...? Where the tailor even needed visual aid FROM HIM because he sucked at explaining what he wanted? Diluc isn't one to drown himself in shame anymore, so to save face for himself, he actually got to work.

The tailor had been observing the young man behind the rims of her eyeglasses and goodness- she can tell this man is holding back. At some point, as she stuck different pins on a gown of her own design, she contemplated whether she'd rather ask him what he would like to see on a woman in bed or why he wants to see that on a woman in bed. In the end, she waves the thoughts way. None of her business.

Diluc started drawing, straps and laces here and there... rose patterns? Not bad. Is the crotch area too thin? He asks himself then resorts to erasing the entire sketch of the bottom garment away. Is the fabric transparent? Diluc's eyebrows point down. But... that's a little too... he felt his hands reach to cuddle his length, goodness how is he supposed to-

Diluc really wanted something, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable so he kept holding himself back and doubting each design. Even when Diluc's head spiraled with ideas, he didn't know which one of these ideas intrigue you the most.

At this point, Diluc doesn't really know where to begin with anymore, his tried everything and it's almost been an hour. He didn't want to delay the lingerie any longer so he just followed his heart in the process. Ok... ribbons. Ribbons? Is that too weird on a lingerie? Surely not. Red lace ribbons? There? Yes, his mind liked those. Attached on what color though? Maybe something baby pink or peach. He needed them in two pieces of course.

Finally, he folded the paper unequally to four, stuffed it in his pocket, and then reached for the tailor to whom he finally said the design to. He didn't hold himself back this time and openly told her of how he wanted the lingerie to look. He wasn't planning to show it, but ended up showing it anyway.

"Good thing you got it done..." The tailor told him, letting out a sigh of relief as she placed measurements on a mannequin. "You sure have grown Master Diluc."

Diluc froze at that phrase. She's not lying nor is she wrong. All Diluc really wanted to feel was the lust in the look of you... breedable and inexperienced before him but of course he can't say that so he realized that after all these thoughts, he cannot talk back. He can't. Like, really. It made him feel so awkward that he had to think of an excuse to get out of the establishment. "I'll wait by the car." He excuses, "Just call me when it's ready. Make sure it's done before midnight." And they assure him that it is to be done quickly for the fabrics have already been chosen for the lingerie.

The tailor throws him one last curious stare behind her eyeglasses and then brings her hand to sew and get back to work while musing the unexpected request. (Last Christmas, Diluc asked the tailor to make a dress for you so she already knows your size)

When Diluc got into his car, he brought both his gloved hands to his face. What. A. Night. He didn't know it was THAT hard to think of a lingerie for you. All those thinking of how you would look on those or how it might terrify you really took a toll on him. He can't disappoint you. He mustn't.

Five minutes of breathing exercises and he would soon realize how less embarassing it actually is. Now that he thinks about it, you probably asked him to buy you a lingerie to see what he wants... if that's the case... then he didn't regret his final design. So long as the lingerie compliments your body and keeps you confident in bed he can just-

Diluc felt himself slightly aroused on his seat. He needed to get home. He opened his phone screen and it greets him with the current time: 11:17pm. Suddenly, there was a knock on his car window. Fortunately, it was the tailor's assistant, telling him to go see the finished product inside. He follows the man towards the establishment and when he does see it, he calmly accepts it.

Diluc got home at around 11:40pm and you were already laying asleep on the bed. Laughingly though, your fingers are way too close to your undergarments and Diluc can't help but muster a chuckle upon seeing you so innocently sleeping after maybe, pleasuring yourself. When he wakes you up, you realize you had accidentally fallen asleep after-

You tried to explain to him, throwing lies upon another lie, until Diluc shows you the custom-made lingerie he prepared for you. Your face burned red as he threw them on your hands. "Wear it." He tells you, "See for yourself." His voice is slightly gruff and yet it is calm and soft. You put it on inside the bathroom and... it had you speechless. The theme is cute but so... revealing. Is Diluc really... into this? The good boy, easily flustered, reserved Diluc you know? Shyly and awkwardly, you walk out of the bathroom.

"Everything is see through..." You mumble and Diluc trails his lips just on your neck to whisper, "You asked for my preferences, didn't you?" His voice was rough with warm heavy breaths tickling your skin. His hands reach to touch the back of your waist and pull you closer.

That night, Diluc was rough but aftercare was still done on both of you. (am legit blushing like a slut here lmfaooo)

Kazuha ver. here

[lemoncrushh]

Lyrics and Melodies: AM

Summary: A very smitten Harry takes Julia back to his place for drinks and more music.

Warnings: None - this is sweet and sexy, but no smut.

Word Count: 3185

A/N: Please allow me to set this one up for you... This was the second part to a one shot I'd originally written in 2015, and this one was in 2016. Unfortunately, since my 2015 stories got deleted from my Wattpad, I do not have the first part to share, but I can give you the gist of what happened. Written from Harry's POV, he went to a bar with Niall, but the band that was scheduled to play canceled, so it was open-mic night. He was ready to leave when this pretty lady stepped up to the mic and sang like an angel. He was smitten with her. If memory serves, she sang Dreams by Fleetwood Mac, No Souvenirs by Melissa Etheridge and Shelter by Lone Justice. After stepping off stage, Harry introduced himself, found out her name was Julia, and they flirted a bit before he asked if they could go somewhere to talk. They went to the diner across the street and ate pie. Harry asked about the last song she sang because he didn't know it, so he put it in a playlist on his phone. He asked to see her again and she said yes, and as they left the diner, the song When Will I See You Again by the Three Degrees played. So now, we're at part two... Please enjoy :). Oh, and just like the first part, this has a lot of music in it. I will mention the songs at the end and link them so you can check them out.

Help me, I think I'm falling in love again...

I was stood in the back of the bar, just like the first time I watched Julia on the stage, the night we met. After two dates (if you'd call that first night a date), I was still in awe of her. We'd only had one more date since then, but I barely count it. It was a very hurried lunch date because she'd had to get back to work. I hadn't gotten to hear her sing that time, and sitting in the middle of a busy cafe during lunch hour was not the ideal date. Nonetheless, I'd enjoyed just being with her, but I'll admit I kicked myself afterwards for not kissing her goodbye.

I was excited when she'd called to tell me she was going to open mic night again and would love if I came. If. As though anything would have kept me away. This time Niall wasn't with me. I was only there to meet Julia, and after she played her short set, we were headed back to my place to have drinks there. She was beautiful to watch, her perfect lips mouthing the lyrics into the microphone, her delicate fingers strumming the chords on her guitar.

And we love our loving...but not like we love our freedom...

The crowd cheered and clapped when Julia finished her last song and took a bow. Our eyes met for a split second and she smiled at me before stepping off the stage. The emcee took his place at the mic to announce the next performer, but I kept my eyes on Julia while she walked toward me, stopping a couple times to hug someone or say thanks.

"Hi," she beamed.

"Hi," I wiggled my brows. "You were great."

"Thank you," she said. "I'm ready when you are."

I widened my eyes, pointing to the bloke on stage who was singing something off-key that sounded like it might have been "Band on the Run".

"You mean you don't wanna stay for him? He does a mad McCartney."

Julia giggled, leaning into me and grabbing my arm. "I'll pass."

I grinned, getting a whiff of her perfume as she pulled me through the crowd to the exit.

I stopped beside her car where she put her guitar in the back seat. She agreed to follow me and got behind the wheel. Then I climbed into my car and headed out of the parking lot towards my house.

Julia parked her car behind mine in the driveway and I met her, opening the back door to retrieve her guitar.

"Thanks," she smiled shyly, taking it from me. As she followed me up the sidewalk to the front door, I heard her mutter something, though I couldn't quite make it out.

"What was that?" I inquired, inserting the key.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Welcome," I said, holding the door open for her.

She stepped in gingerly as I punched the security code in the keypad.

"Smells nice in here," she remarked.

I chuckled, extending my hand for her to take it. "Here, I'll show you around."

I enjoyed watching Julia's face as we walked into the living room, her head tilted back to get a view of the high ceilings and the windows that overlooked the backyard.

"This is beautiful," she muttered. "Very serene." She took a few steps closer to the windows. "That view is insane."

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's my favorite thing about this place. You should really see it at sunrise. It's incredible."

She gave a soft grin, her eyes staring back at mine for a moment. I almost leaned in to kiss her, but she turned to the right before I had a chance.

With her guitar slung across her back, she rounded the corner into the next room. When she saw the massive instrument in front of her, she stopped in her tracks.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "You have a grand piano!" Then with a tiny giggle, she turned around to face me. "Of course you do."

I leant against the door frame with a smirk. "Do you play?"

She gave me a cute smile and a nod before removing her guitar over her head and placing it in the corner against the wall. Then sliding across the piano bench, she gently placed her fingers on the keys, not quite pressing hard enough to make a sound. I walked around to the side of the piano as she played her first chord, followed by another and another.

Well, I dreamed I saw the knights in armor coming...saying something about a queen...

I leant my forearm against the piano as I watched her play and sing the classic Neil Young tune. Although her voice was much more lovely than Neil's. Seriously, I could listen to her sing all day. However, I was glad when she'd finished, lifted her hands from the keyboard and placed them in her lap. She looked up at me and I could've sworn her face was glowing.

"Beautiful," I remarked, though it wasn't just because of her playing.

She tilted her head to the side, allowing her hair to dance across her shoulder. I made my way towards her, again ready to kiss her, but she spoke before I got to her.

"So I thought we were gonna have drinks. Where's mine?"

I shook my head with a grin and held my hand out for her. "C'mon, love, I'll show you to the kitchen."

I was standing all alone against the world outside...

Julia and I sat in the living room on a couple of cushions that I'd tossed on the floor next to the coffee table. We'd been drinking vodka (her choice when I'd shown her my liquor cabinet) for the last hour, and after some coaxing, I got her to play her guitar and sing for me again.

I would die for you, climb the highest mountain...

Lord help me, I was having a hard time keeping my emotions in check. When I'd first seen her in that bar, her angelic voice ringing in my ears, I was already feeling something. I knew it was silly, ludicrous even, to call it love at first sight. But there was definitely something there. Something more than just an initial attraction. Each time she sang, and I watched her beautiful face as she acted out the words of the song in her expressions, I slid down the hole a little deeper.

I wanted so badly to kiss her. I was mesmerized by her lips as they moved. I wanted to touch them, to feel them.

When we're hungry, love will keep us alive...

Julia strummed the last chord and slung the strap over her head before setting the guitar on the floor beside her. She reached for her glass on the table, gulping the last of its contents.

"Looks like it's time for another," I remarked, getting up from my cushion.

"I can get it," she said, rising herself.

"Then we'll get 'em together, yeah?"

Julia followed me into the kitchen where I refilled our glasses with vodka. She watched me for a second until I caught her, and she quickly diverted her gaze to the window.

"Do you have lots of parties here?" she inquired. "That looks like a perfect patio for parties."

"Well, Dr. Seuss," I teased, "that's a brilliant use of alliteration. But no. I actually haven't had a party here in a while."

"Oh," she said, turning around to face me once again.

I held her glass out to her. "Here ya go."

She took it with only slight hesitation as she looked at me. "Thanks."

I stepped closer to her, my eyes looking at her over my glass as I took a sip from it.

"I tend to prefer more intimate settings," I added.

"Oh."

Setting my glass on the counter, I reached my arm out to wrap around her waist, but the second my hand grazed her shirt, she slipped from my grasp and walked past me to the opposite counter.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I huffed.

"Doing what?" she asked innocently.

"You keep backing away or interrupting me when I'm about to kiss you," I pouted.

"You were about to kiss me?" she raised her brows. "Sorry, I didn't know."

I scoffed. "Yeah, ya did."

She chuckled, sending more electrified tingles throughout my body.

"Sorry. It's just that..."

"It's just what?" I asked softly as I took her glass from her, setting it on the counter behind me, next to mine. Then I pressed my body up against hers, forcing her to back into the counter, giving her no room to get away.

She focused on my chest as I felt her sigh against me, her expression softening as her cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

"It's just that...I like you," she confessed, finally looking up at me. "And I guess I'm a little nervous. I just wanted our first kiss to be...special."

"I like you, too," I conveyed in a low tone. "Nothin' to be nervous about, love."

Placing my hands on either side of her on the counter, I leaned forward and tilted my head slightly.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, Julia," I said just above a whisper, my eyes darting between hers and her mouth.

She nodded slowly before muttering, "Okay."

Her lips were soft, just like I imagined they would be. I captured her top lip between mine, then the bottom one before sliding my tongue inside to meet hers. She let out a tiny little sound as she ran her hands up my chest to my neck, allowing her fingers to thread through my hair. I lifted my right hand to her cheek, kissing her deeper. I felt her chest rise and fall as I released her, her hot breaths puffing out of her perfect lips against my mouth.

"Was that special enough?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd say it was."

"Good," I said, licking my lips. "Now we can have our second kiss."

Taking her in my arms, I pulled her even closer to me as a cute giggle escaped her throat. I lifted her up off the ground, so she sat on the counter, eye to eye with me. She smiled at me when I edged myself between her legs that dangled beneath her. Her smile alone was enough to make me come undone, and I couldn't help but smile back.

Brushing her hair off her shoulders, I slid my hands under her ears before planting another kiss on her lips. This time she eagerly opened her mouth to me, inviting me inside. My thumbs tickled her cheeks as I tasted her. She made the little sound again, only louder as she delicately raked her fingers down my arms.

We were both breathing hard when our lips separated and I rested my forehead against hers.

"Wow," she whispered.

I merely nodded with a growl. Then I took her hand and placed it over my heart, covering it with my hand.

"It's beating fast," she commented.

"Yeah," I managed to say. "It's kinda been doing that since we met."

"Hmm," she sounded with a smile. I was glad she didn't make some joke about my cheesy line, and instead took my other hand and brought it to her chest.

"Mine's been doing the same," she said.

My lips curled up in a massive goofy grin before giving her another peck on the mouth.

"What do ya reckon we do about that?"

I watched as her eyelids fluttered, her pretty lashes laying perfectly across her cheeks.

"I think maybe we should take some time to get to know each other," she replied.

I couldn't deny her words kinda felt like a punch in the gut. But I also agreed with her.

"Alright," I muttered.

"It's just..." Julia readjusted her position on the counter, pulling my hands into her lap as she looked at me. "I already know I like you, Harry. A lot. And I'm very attracted to you."

I nodded.

"I just don't think there's any need to rush. Let's just see where it takes us."

My expression softened as I nodded once more. "Okay."

She gave me that amazing smile again before turning her head. "Now, where's my drink?"

With a chuckle, I let go of her hands and turned around to retrieve her glass.

"The ice is all melted," I remarked.

"Of course it is," said Julia. "That was one hot kiss. It's a wonder the smoke alarm didn't go off."

I beamed at her as she took a large sip of her vodka, then hopped off the counter.

"C'mon, handsome," she beckoned. "Your turn."

"My turn?" I quirked a brow.

"Yeah. You've heard me sing like ten songs already. It's your turn."

When something goes right...It's likely to lose me, it's apt to confuse me...

Having Julia watch me play guitar and sing was not something I'd prepared myself for. Sure, she knew I was a musician, so it had to come up sooner or later. I just didn't know I'd be doing it in front of her in such an intimate setting.

I'd turned the lights down low and let a few candles burn, the glow reflecting and bouncing off the window. She looked so beautiful sitting on her cushion beside the coffee table, watching me with her irresistible eyes. I almost couldn't concentrate on the lyrics.

It's such an unusual sight...I can't get used to something so right...

Julia let out an audible sigh when I finished the Paul Simon song. She didn't take her eyes off of me when I handed her back her guitar. In fact, she immediately set it down on the floor and crawled to me on her knees.

"That was beautiful," she murmured when she reached me.

Before I had a chance to respond, she covered my mouth with hers. This time I could taste a tinge of liquor on her tongue since we'd both had our fair share. Not that I minded. She still tasted sweet and lovely.

"I think I'm a little drunk," she commented when she sat back on her heels, her eyelids heavy.

"That's okay," I smirked.

Julia groaned as she laid down on the floor, resting her head on the cushion. "I have to go home, Harry."

"No, you don't," I said a little too quickly.

She turned her head to glare at me, then her chest shook as she laughed. "I can't stay here."

"Sure, you can."

Julia continued to stare at me, though I wasn't exactly sure if she was looking at me, or through me. I leant on my elbow across the floor, facing her.

"Stay," I requested in a low voice.

Finally she blinked and shook her head. Then she reached over for her guitar, laying it across her stomach. She began to strum a new chord progression as she hummed.

"This is a song I'm thinking of singing next time at open mic," she said.

"Let's hear it."

This could be it...I think I'm in love...

My stomach literally did a flip.

"Julia..." I whispered, but she didn't hear me. She continued strumming and singing the song to the ceiling, not once looking at me.

I almost could feel her nerves. I'd never noticed any nerves emit from her before, not once. Not while she was singing. That was when she was in her comfort zone. This was different. It was almost like she was hesitant to share this with me.

Her voice cracked a couple times, but she never stopped. I stared at her mouth while she sang, wanting so badly to kiss it again. Especially because of the words that were coming out of it.

When you kiss me...I know you miss me... And when you're with me...the world just goes away...

I scooted even closer to her. I didn't want to disturb her playing and cause her to hit a wrong note, but I wanted to be next to her. As close as possible.

Finally, during the final chorus, I couldn't take it anymore. I kissed her cheek, dragging my lips down her jaw. She giggled once and turned her head, allowing me full access to her neck. I nipped at her delicate skin, my hand in her hair.

"Julia..." I whispered again, this time directly in her ear. But I wasn't expecting a response since she was still singing.

Oh, the world just goes away...when you kiss me...

Laying her guitar back down on the floor beside her, Julia turned to look at me. I grazed her other cheek with my hand and lowered my mouth to hers.

"Harry," she murmured against my lips.

"Hmm?"

"I think I should probably stay. But only because I'm drunk and sleepy. And I shouldn't be driving home."

"Alright, love," I nodded. "Come, I'll show you to the guest room."

I rose from the floor, holding my hand out for her to take. I put my arms around her to steady her as we walked down the hallway to the room at the end.

"This is pretty," she remarked in a tired voice as I pulled down the dark purple duvet.

"Sit," I commanded. She did and I took to removing her shoes.

"I'm going to turn out the lights," I insisted. "Toilet's across the hall if you need it."

"Okay."

I smiled at her, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead, then her nose and mouth.

"I had a lovely evening, Julia," I said.

"Me too," she grinned.

I left her to walk down the hall and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Then I blew out the candles and turned out the lights. When I made it back to the hallway, it was dark except for one glow which I knew was from the lamp in the guest room. When I reached the doorway, Julia was already under the covers, lying on her side. Her eyes were shut, but I wasn't sure if she was asleep yet. I laid the bottle of water on the bedside table in case she woke up thirsty. Then I placed a quick kiss on her temple and turned out the light.

I was just about to the hall when I turned around again to look at her. God, she was beautiful. I'm not sure what made me do it, but I walked around the bed and undressed myself to my boxers. Then I climbed into bed behind Julia. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her to me. She stirred only slightly before grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand to her stomach. I sighed and listened to her breathing, feeling each inhale and exhale as her stomach moved to the rhythm of the song she'd just sung.

The way you hold me...The way you show me... That you adore me...oh, when you kiss me...

Finally, it lulled me to sleep.

Songs mentioned:

Joni Mitchell - Help Me

Neil Young - After the Gold Rush

Eagles - Love Will Keep Us Alive

Paul Simon - Something So Right

Shania Twain - When You Kiss Me

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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[dandelion-wings]

Stuck at the hospital with only my phone and rn the sickfic WIP isn't appealing, so why not start a new phone WIP? >> This concept originates from a longer idea @theabysscomeshome and I had once (wherein this episode feeds into a relationship shift), but rn I'm just focusing on baby Kaeya.

---

ETA: Now edited on AO3!

---

"This must be confusing for you," says the red-haired man crouching in front of Kaeya. It's the first sensible thing Kaeya has heard anyone say since he woke up under this terrible open sky.

He doesn't say that, of course. He only nods. Giving anything away to these people would be a bad idea.

It's a good thing, in a way, that he'd woken to see the woman standing behind him before anything else. Her, and the sky above her, and the symbol of the Ordo Favonius--their ancient enemies, the crusading scourge that followed the first disasters of the Cataclysm--emblazoned upon her armor. She had seemed to take both his scream and his frantic grab for the sword beside him in stride, though she had wrestled the weapon away. She'd claimed to *know* him.

Kaeya knows no Knight of Favonius, but as long as he goes along with her claim, she seems disinclined to kill him. So he can't do anything that will prove her wrong.

"I thought that he would be more comfortable here at the Dawn Winery," she's telling the red-haired man now. "He's been very shy, and I think being around so many armed knights is frightening for him."

"He was afraid of knights when he first came here," the man agrees. Which means he thinks he knows Kaeya, too. "We'll look after him until your alchemists come up with a solution."

"Thank you. I know he'll be happier with you."

Kaeya stiffens when she puts a hand on his shoulder, but all she does is squeeze. When he looks up, she's smiling at him.

"We will work tirelessly to repair this," she tells him. "For now, simply enjoy your time here at the Winery."

Then she turns and walks away, leaving Kaeya here in this softly-lit room with the man looming over him even crouched to his height. It's still better than being surrounded by Favonian knights.

"Has Jean explained the situation to you?" the man asks.

She'd told him that she knew him as an adult, that he was a captain under her, and that some Abyss Mage had ensorcelled him in a fight. She'd told him that he was her best friend. Kaeya doesn't believe any of it, of course. But *she* does.

His own best theory, right now, is that the Abyss Mage switched them somehow. Why, he doesn't know. How his name can match her friend's, and furthermore how he can look enough like the man she knows for her to believe it, he doesn't know either. But Mages are capricious; that one snatched him from where he slept at his father's side while he slept and substituted him for this Mondstadtian Kaeya seems more likely than becoming a Knight of Favonius. Or, worse, the *friend* of one of those butchers.

Kaeya just nods again.

"Then I won't try to pretend that I'm Father. Not that there would be any point in that. I am Diluc. I'm simply fifteen years older than I was when you arrived."

He seems to expect some kind of answer, so Kaeya nods a third time.

The man nods back. Then he stands, abruptly, to his full height. It takes all of Kaeya's efforts not to flinch. If the knight thought he would be happier here, then surely the person she thinks he is wouldn't.

Passing Kaeya, the man--Diluc--opens the door. "Let's go find Adelinde. She can get your room set up and feed you. I'm sure you're hungry."

That's the second sensible thing Kaeya has heard anyone say today, so he follows.

[myfairstarlight]

A bunch of (unorganised) thoughts about an AU where Penelope never became Whistledown (i saw debates on twitter and it got my brain WORKING)

No concept of a diamond? No one is there to provoke and challenge the Queen, and Whistledown was the one to name Daphne the diamond

Daphne being forced to marry Berbrooke — it was the public humiliation that drove him away. If it had remained rumours that no one could really prove, he would have stayed.

Colin marrying Marina. Even if Penelope told him about the pregnancy he might have still married her because #HeroComplex

As a result Penelope would try to find a husband much earlier too. She does not have the Whistledown money to get new dresses behind her mother's back but perhaps Violet agrees to sponsor her since they're now officially family through Marina and Colin's marriage, and Eloise is also now debuting

The Featherington would not be ruined at the end of the first season, if anything they're in a better place with the proper connection to the Bridgertons, but they're still in debts.

No cousin Jack plot cuz one of Marina's children would become the new Lord Featherington after Archibald's death? Which still puts Colin as the de-facto head of the estate in the meantime lol

Which puts him in the perfect place to be tortured when Penelope starts to get suitors. As the new head of the family, he's the one who has to veto any suitor, after all

A less opinionated Eloise? Ultimately, it was Whistledown that reinforced her feminist beliefs upon seeing a successful woman fool the ton. Maybe she'd be more jaded and angry especially seeing her own brother force Daphne into a horrible marriage

She also never ends up meeting Theo. Neither does Penelope anyway.

No Pen and Gen friendship

Anthony marrying Edwina? Whistledown calling him a rake is one of the reasons Kate was so against him. But I think she would have clocked him anyway and would want to protect her sister so I think Kanthony is still endgame in this case. Arguably they'd get together with more ease too since Edwina wouldn't be a diamond, assuming the concept does not exist in this AU.

HOWEVER would she take an issue upon learning Anthony forced his sister to marry Berbrooke? She's very family oriented too, and maybe she'd imagine Edwina in Daphne's position.

Though "forced" is maybe a strong word, since Berbrooke ended up blackmailing the Bridgertons to get what he wants but it never would have happened if Anthony hadn't promised him Daphne's hand without consulting Daphne in the first place, so my point still stands tbh

Assuming from book plot, Benedict and Sophie would not be as lucky as Kate and Anthony without Whistledown though. Joining polin in the trenches

Philip would never know his brother's kids, and would have no reason to start some sort of correspondance with a certain someone since he is content in his recluse life

Francesca's story would be thoroughly unaffected at least

And other stuff I forgot, probably

[litnerdwrites]

About the dancing chapter...

I agree 100% with this comment by the amazing @deathbealady (no seriously, I didn't even realise how similar this situation was to Mor's) and I wanted to use it as a jumping off point to talk about Eris Vansera. To be clear though, I like fanon Eris and am currently undecided about canon Eris, for reasons I'll explain later.

For now, we can start with the IC asking Nesta to try and seduce Eris. I refuse to believe they weren't given this idea by Elain, either because she volunteered Nesta outright, or because she put the idea of using Nesta's artistic passions that, at this point, they know were effectively weaponised by her mother, to seduce an older male with the idea of marriage.

Either way, the fact that the IC knew what Nesta's mother had done, and decided to take advantage of it without ever asking what she thought of it, or what she might like, despite it being the same thing done to Mor when she was Nesta's age, if not younger. It's made especially worse given that Nesta likely feels unable say 'no' to the IC, because if she does, she'd likely be threatened with Elain being made to do it.

If that isn't bad enough, and I wouldn't be sure if it could get worse if I wasn't about to tell you why, then we can take a look at the age gap between Eris and Nesta. I've heard people argue that it's fine, since they're both consenting adults, but I think that the term 'adults' needs to be redefined. Humans are considered adults at the age of 18 or so, but only have a fully developed frontal love at 25. Meanwhile, fae are considered adults by the age of about 50 to 80 (with the latter being the age that a High Lord can be named such, but some people say it's 50). This has some pretty serious implications.

Starting with the fact that if females in Illyria and the CON are married off/wings clipped when they have their first period, which seems to be from around the same time human women have theirs, to 18 if they try to prevent it through medication, then they aren't adults themselves. They aren't even half way there in the (I don't want to say mild, best case, better or anything like that case because it's all messed up) cases where the woman is 18 or so. It also implies that a fae female's frontal lobe isn't developed until she's over fifty, since we don't have evidence to suggest the contrary.

Just because Nesta was almost 25 when she became fae doesn't make it alright either. Given that her aging must have slowed astronomically when she was turned, it's fair to assume it would have a huge impact on maturity and brain development. Which means the Archeron sister's in general might have serious gaps in the way their brains develop, especially Feyre, since she was resurrected and her body changed. It might even be slightly different for Nesta and Elain since they were killed, pulled apart and put back together in the cauldron.

Since it was the cauldron, there's a chance that their brains were also changed to be like fae, but either way, both possibilities and scenarios come back to the same answer: The Archeron Sisters are still mentally children, and will likely remain so for several decades longer, perhaps even longer than regular fae due to the unprecedented and irregular nature of their existence.

This brings me back to the subject of Nesta and Eris. He is a grown adult many centuries older than Nesta, with frontal lobe development and centuries of experience. Nesta is barely even half way to being an adult, while he is over 500. Moreover, the IC believe that Eris is a monster.

Now, I'm well aware that there's likely more to the issues between Eris and Mor than what we've seen. Between Eris's own words regarding 'circumstances' that he wouldn't explain, to the narrative going out of his way to show us good parts of him. Such as the way he moved to protect his mother at the HL meeting, and how he let his own father torture him but still protected the IC's secrets and took the unnecessary verbal abuse from Cassian. There's even the fact that Eris simply lets others believe him to be the villain, and let's Mor control the narrative for her own comfort, as opposed to spilling whatever happened, even if it would, somehow, absolve him.

Now, to be perfectly clear, there is little Eris could say that would absolve him, truly, of what happened. I acknowledge that he's a victim of his father, however that doesn't mean he can't also be Morrigan's abuser. And yes, even if he didn't touch her, neglect is abuse. Leaving her there for dead, regardless of the reasons, is a messed up thing to do. The categories of victim and abuser are not mutually exclusive.

The narrative wants us, as readers, to question Eri's actions and begin to wonder what happened between him and Lucien and Mor. It wants us to open up to the idea that Eris may not be as bad as he's made out to be, and that there's something more sinister happening, since it puts some level of suspicion on Lucien, Mor and Beron. However, just because that's the story we're being fed as readers, doesn't mean that the characters have the same perspective, or are living the same story, necessarily.

If you think about it, they have no reason to believe that Eris isn't a psycho who abuses woman and would slaughter his brothers to get to the crown. His comment about circumstances does read like an abuser trying to justify his actions with little effort, while giving no real reason, not that one would make up for what the IC believes he did. It's not a good enough reason to absolve him or make him seem like a good person.

He still hunted Feyre down, even though he had no reason to once she and Lucien made it to the Winter Court, and it, logically, would've caused more trouble for Beron if they were caught. Especially since a whole fire fight took place, and it would be easy for Kallias to connect that with autumn citizens, since he didn't know about Feyre's magic. If anything, hunting them at that point would've caused more problems and they'd be better off just telling Beron that Feyre and Lucien were there. A high lady, if Beron acknowledges the title or not, trespassing in foreign lands with a banished son would be enough to raise a fuss about.

He, also, has people who've known him for centuries, from Mor to Lucien (though the latter probably has more accurate info given his connections in various courts, and the fact it's unlikely Mor shared many words with him over 5 centuries) and the fact he's essentially blackmailing the Nc. This is more so an issue of his having certain pieces of information being a cause for the IC to fear what he may do with it, or what might be found out by their enemies if they use torture or a daemati.

I'm not saying, by any means, that I hate him. I think he's actually written better than Rhysand at this point, since unlike Rhysie playing hero, Eris knows he's a terrible person and low key owns it. Whether or not that's subject to change is dependant of SJM's writing in the future. There's a chance she may actually turn him into Rhys 2.0 by pretended he was a good guy all along.

However, regardless of his reasons, he has done so many atrocious things that the IC have no reason to think he's a descent person. Mor clearly hasn't said anything about what happened and, as much as I don't like her, she has no on page motive to antagonise Eris otherwise. That might change later, especially if she's the traitor, but as of now, her behaviour seems understandable, somewhat, based on the version of events that she gives.

Yet, despite all of this, the IC still think that essentially whoring Nesta out to Eris because it suits their goals. Regardless of the risks to Nesta's safety, regardless of how Nesta feels about the matter and and simply going off of Feyre's guesses about how Nesta feels without ever feeling the need to confirm if any of them are accurate to Nesta.

Let me summarise: Rhysand and Feyre, Nesta's own sister, thought it was a good idea to use Nesta's artistic passions to seduce a man that is literally 20 times Nesta's age, letting said man ask for Nesta's hand, and letting Nesta consider accepting despite the IC believing he is a woman torturing psycho that would throw her to the wolves at the first chance if it helped him in the end.

Let's not forget that while Eris may be bit of a grey area for us at the moment, the IC knows that Eris also lives with abusers, like Beron, who'd have no issue using physical violence against Nesta. So even if they thought Eris wasn't a monster for some reason, they'd still be putting Nesta in danger. Especially if Beron is working with the Death God, who wants the trove and is using Bryallin to find it.

Oh, and this was all after Cassian came to the conclusion that Nesta was suicidal, and was sexually assaulted in a vision, if I remember right, while on a life threatening mission in a place the rest of the IC, even Amren, is scared of.

Regardless of what Rhysand says, he allows abusers near enough to his family, or the ones he doesn't care as much about, I suppose, and is seemingly willing to let them marry said abusers if it gets him his goal. Rhysand who was abused. Rhysand who's mother was forced into child marriage.

Rhysand who seems to ignore the fact that the Archeron sisters are children. Children can't consent, if it wasn't clear enough to him already. Also, consent must be informed, and last I checked, Nesta wasn't informed about Eris beyond him being a snake. She isn't given a heads up about how abusive he's believed to be, how he may have to kill/watch you die if his dad decides so, or how he's likely to leave you bleeding out in the woods if you're injured. This is literally what the IC believe he is like and they didn't tell her.

Consent needs to be voluntary. I think it's been well established that Nesta likely doesn't feel like she can make real decisions because of consequences she may face.

He's also completely willing to send a suicidal (you can't argue that he doesn't know since Cassian reports everything to Rhysand, and kind of Feyre, apparently, from her Valkyries to her progress in 'healing'/being brainwashed so there's no reason he wouldn't report that too) into life threatening situations, put them in a place where they could jump to their deaths at any moment, with magic that could provide literally anything but alcohol, and filled with weapons.

To conclude, Eris is a grey area in ACOTAR that, at this point, reads as what Rhysand kind of should've been if SJM didn't make him a good guy for no reason. Meanwhile, this 'good guy' is endangering his sister in law through abuse, emotional blackmail and brainwashing, while putting her in proximity with a known abuser. Might I remind you that she's a minor? With possible developmental gaps. And he's doing it all because her being in danger makes his life easier, and the cousin that the dude abused is going along with this without any issue.

[shinjisdone]

Hello, if i'm not too late, could i request a Thorfinn x fem!Reader where Reader disguise herself as a boy, kinda like in Mulan, and fights along side Thorfinn and after months of being together Thorfinn finds out Reader it's a woman by accident when she was off guard? I hope I'm not bothering you with this request, have a nice day, or night(?

👆👆👆👆 ooohh this!!! This is a thought I had very often but did not explore that much after all. My own brainrot focuses on a young woman that couldn't hide and instead made it clear that she'd kill any of the bandmates would they try something and Askeladd was like 'aight for every man you kill you gotta replace them with your skills and wit lol'

But someone pretending to be a man like Mulan makes most sense! Anyone would try to go the safest route like that first before risking anything!

This will be like a lot of thoughts in random order of all the possible things that could happen.

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets

S1!Thorfinn with an female/afab!Reader who masks herself as a man!

First and foremost

Askeladd knows.

His men may be fools, tools, real bafoons but he's got a brain. He probably had seen many women pretending to be someone else to avoid idiots like his men.

The leader will never outright spill your secret and will pretend he isn't aware of it either. He understands your situation but will not actively go out of his way to keep you safe. Perhaps shoo a few men away and giving them orders away from your work or turn a blind eye when he is about this close to 'finding' your secret out.

He wouldn't let anyone else, including Thorfinn, find out who you are. Always finds an excuse to keep them away from you when things get dangerously close. But, once the secret's out, he can't do anything to keep you safe.

You think Askeladd's got your back? Hah! This problem is all yours, lassie. Askeladd's not a good man.

Okay, there are many ways for Thorfinn to find out.

It can happen during the very beginning - where the two of you aren't close and he finds out by accident. A splatter of blood on the crotch, your body growing differently than his, a sight he was never supposed to see. Stupid as he is it will definitely leave him stumped.

What will be a bit different however is that Thorfinn is uncharacteristacily calm. You could cry and beg for him to not say and do anything or you could threaten to kill him if he tells the others. There will still be a glare on his face and his tone is as stern as ever but he does not raise his voice nor ball his fists. After dragging you to a safe space and getting your look back on...he will calmly ask you how stupid you must be. You should know how dangerous it is and he'd lowkey be disappointed. You aren't an idiot and yet still you go out of your way to be here.

You shouldn't be. What's he going to do now knowing this? Now he must protect you while acting like nothing is out of place. No odd one out here.

Thorfinn feels frustrated and honestly can't get this realisation out of his head. He will definitely act like nothing happened. Will call you by the name you chose around the others and that you are the same as always.

Once it is the two of you, however? He might think back on the moment where he saw you and it just...frustrates him more. Why does it have to be like this.

Expect to be looked after and chastised like a child. Thorfinn is on the constant lookout. Will keep certain people away from you, will point out if your costume is not convincing enough, if any features could be seen or if you need help. It will leave you frustrated and annoyed for sure.

One day he might even ask you for the name given to you by your parents. Would you always prefer to be called by the name you chose?

In a way, Thorfinn is so stubborn and so certain of his beliefs that he decides to protect you no matter if you agree to it or not. You two could be mere bandmates but the moment he finds out you are born a woman he becomes your weirdly distant but steadfast bodyguard.

If you two are close as described in the request, Thorfinn gets...worse.

As dumb as he is, there may be an...inkling that he has regarding your identity. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew, but would not be aware of it even after he'd find out.

When you two are close, of course Thorfinn is more comfortable and tends to touch you a lot. Never inappropriately no matter who you are but he never really thinks of his actions as inappropriate anyway. So if you sometimes scoot away from his touch or ask to be not touched at certain areas (where you lie and say there's a wound that still needs healing) he might be confused.

If you ask to be alone while you go into the bushes or lakes to wash yourself, he will be confused.

If you don't want anyone taking your robes and clothes away, let alone touch them, he will be confused.

If you insist on wearing everything you got under the scorching summer sun, he will be confused.

Nevertheless, Thorfinn will always respect your wishes.

This inkling he has in the back of his mind of knowing who you are will also grow with instances like the ones mentioned above.

To anyone else he might blur out how stupid your choices are. If you don't undress and let someone look at that wound, you'll never heal! And not taking any clothes off during summer will leave you unconscious!

But...you aren't anyone. He seems to be aware of what's going and never says anything even as the other bandmates do (Askeladd doesn't either).

It all comes crashing down once he sees it himself for the first time and nothing can be denied then.

You most likely believed yourself to be alone and let your guard down. Foolish that you were, you should have expected Thorfinn to come look for you because of course would he come and check up on you. After all that you have been through and the bond you have established, he cannot just be dismissive nor indifferent towards you.

His intentions were innocent. All he wanted to do was to check up on you since you were absent for a long while but it seemed that the young man did more harm than good.

Quickly you covered yourself. With an panicked expression you wished to hide away but knew that you couldn't, not from Thorfinn. The man in question caught his breath and let it out in a long and calm sigh.

He needed to calm himself. This subconcious suspicion he had was now confirmed true and a part of him did not want that to happen solely because it meant you are now...far more endangered than he believed it to be.

The first thing he does is avoid his gaze and apologize. He did not mean to scare you and definitely not make you believe that you now have to be frightened. But he will ask about the wound you have and how long you have endured it.

Thorfinn will understand your hesitation, even your fear and anxiety if you have it, but you have to understand that your well-being comes first and that he just can't leave and pretend that he saw nothing - especially since you are obviously not able to tend the wound on your own.

Never will he force you but he is definitely waiting for you to make the right decision and that is letting him help. You aren't an idiot, are you just going to let yourself die like this?

He will be fine with any compromise for this situation, he is just glad that you let him help. The blonde will be quiet and gentle as he tends to your injury, not sparing a single glance at anything else. After he is finished, his back will be turned to you and he will have to be honest: Thorfinn cannot just pretend like nothing happened.

If you beg for him to not tell anyone, he will lowkey be offended. You really thing so lowly of him that he'd be up and at 'em, running to these bastards, to Askeladd, and tell them that his friend is a woman? You really think he doesn't care for you?

He might tell you so too (while keeping the bigger insults to himself) and that no matter what, he won't spill your secret. In fact, he swears an oath to keep you safe. He has done so up until now, hasn't he?

Right then and there he makes the oath. Might take an object familiar to the both of you and uses it to etch his honesty and willingness to protect you forever from anyone meaning you harm, into it. It could be another weapon, ring, or armor. (perhaps something akin to Heitstrenging)

It might tear you up but it shows his complete honesty and loyalty towards you.

After that, Thorfinn is much more aware of what he does and says. He won't change much not to raise any suspicion but he'll be more careful and gentle. Like mentioned above, he will also be much clingier which can be a blessing and an annoying curse at the same time.

Whenever you could need assitance he will ask first. If you refuse, he stays away but put and on an lookout for anyone else,

If you comply, he will do as you say and avoid his gaze whenever possible. The last thing you need is believe you cannot be safe around him.

It's one of the many things he wants you to have.

[mc-lukanette]

"You want me to patrol?" Luka asked, staring down at the snake miraculous being held out to him.

Ladybug nodded. "Yeah! Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be great at it!"

That wasn't what he'd been thinking about, actually. Taking the miraculous from her hand and putting it on - something she looked oddly pleased about - he pressed, "I don't mind, but why do you want me to do it?"

The miraculous shifted into its disguised state, a light coming off to bring Sass back into existence. The kwami reclined back like he was lounging in an invisible chair, then waved a paw and replied, "Public opinion."

Luka stared, still feeling lost.

Ladybug tilted her head in Sass's direction, continuing, "It's hard for snake heroes to gain any favor from the public. Real snakes are scary for people and no one can understand your power more than you can."

He vaguely understood that. To everyone else, the snake's powers weren't particularly flashy and the only one who got to experience the reset timelines was him. He'd never particularly considered how people thought about it as he didn't really care, but he acknowledged that the two were making sense.

"I care about all my heroes," Ladybug added, putting her hands on her hips, "and I want the public to care about them too. I'm sure all you need to do is go out there, put on a little snake charm, maybe tell a few stories about your timelines, and everyone will get that Viperion does great work just like everyone else, if not greater."

He couldn't be sure if she'd added on the end because she meant it, or because she could only gauge his success rather than his time and effort. The thought that she considered him a hard enough worker that he could outpace others made him smile.

"I'll do it. Thank you, Ladybug."

She beamed. "No, thank you." She took his wrist with the bangle in both hands and lifted it to her chest level, as if reciting a prayer to it. "I have my own things to do, but I know you'll do a good job with or without me!"

He nodded obediently. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"No! Or—" She paused, pursing her lips. It was the face of someone who felt like they were forgetting something. "Mm, not know, but..."

She pulled out her yoyo, popping it open and slipping her hand inside. Her tongue stuck out to the side as she searched for whatever she was looking for, at one point putting her whole forearm in. When the movement stopped, she lit up with a delighted, "Aha!" and lifted out a folded sheet of paper. She unfolded it to give it a quick check, then happily handed it over to him.

It was a map of Paris, lines snaking across with numbered indicators and circled locations. He would've assumed it was Ladybug's that she was letting him borrow if not for the "Property of Viperion" written in the corner, both 'i's dotted with hearts.

It was cute.

Ladybug sidled up next to him, pointing to the various parts of the map to explain, "This is the quickest way to get around the city while still making sure you're being thorough. The circled spots are where you can meet with a lot of people at once; great for public image. Even Chat doesn't know these."

"Really?" Despite the teasing tone in her voice, he knew she wasn't lying.

"He doesn't need it. He's a cat and people love cats." She rolled her eyes in faux exasperation, then nudged him with a playful smile. "We snakes and ladybugs have to stick together, right?"

He smiled back. He had no idea where this whole conversation of hers had come from, but he nodded and agreed, "Right."

And with that, she was ready to go, stepping away and waving him goodbye before heading off. Luka waved back, but felt eyes on him and turned his head to see Sass staring at him with a knowing expression.

"...What?"

He learned that day that Sass hissed when chuckling.

——

Patrolling was entirely different from fighting akuma, Viperion learned. There wasn't any real tension so long as he didn't find anything, and it felt like it served a nice role in getting him further acclimated to his hero self. He could jump and travel around easily enough when he was called upon, but it didn't escape him how his jumps grew more confident and his landings more solid as time went on.

Whenever he came across a circled area on the map, he would do as Ladybug had recommended and talk to the various civilians he'd find there. Unlike what he imagined would happen with Ladybug or Chat Noir, he had to check on them first rather than being called over for pictures or comments. It didn't bother him beyond the concern that he wasn't doing as much as Ladybug asked, but he couldn't verify until he went back to her.

Time passed smoothly enough, Viperion mentally checking off the map's numbers as he went. Near the end of the patrolling path happened to be around Marinette's house too, so he was in a good mood.

He was within eyesight of the place when someone suddenly called out, "Hey, Viperion~!"

He almost faltered, looking out towards the familiar voice to see Marinette on her balcony and excitedly trying to wave him down. He smiled unconsciously, feeling the natural pull she always had on him that urged him closer, but snapped out of it when he remembered that he was Viperion at the moment. He was supposed to be a stranger to her.

Taking one more look at his map, he noted the circle - oddly enough - right around the bakery. He supposed it could've been referring to the park nearby, but regardless, he was meant to be talking to civilians and Marinette was indeed a civilian.

If it wasn't what Ladybug had in mind, he'd twist the rules just this once.

Giving Marinette a look to convey his intent, he waited for her to step back before leaping towards her, allowing him enough space on the balcony to safely land. It was equally helpful that some of the various things on the surface had been moved in such a way that he'd had a clear place to drop onto.

"Hey... citizen." Wow, that sounded bizarre. "Can I help you?"

She giggled - cute - and nodded at him. Beckoning to him, she stepped back towards the entrance to her bedroom. "Yeah. Come with me for a minute."

She was so forward about it that Viperion genuinely wondered if this was just something that happened with heroes, or only with Marinette specifically. Perhaps Ladybug had even been invited inside before?

He couldn't bring himself to refuse her, so he followed her down onto her bed, then down the stairs to the main part of her room. He watched her walk across and bend down to the chest near her chaise lounge, her hands fiddling with the latch to open it. She reached inside and pulled out something teal, but he couldn't quite see what it was with her body obscuring it.

Marinette, careful not to show him what was in her arms, walked over to a full-body mirror nearby. Finally turning to him, she held up the object and asked, "What do you think?"

Viperion's jaw dropped. There in her arms was a Viperion plush and, judging from his own reflection in the mirror, she'd even gotten the smaller details right. He got the distinct feeling that she had looked at him more than he'd looked at himself just to ensure that the plush was accurate.

"Wow, it's..." He approached, reaching out but not feeling able to touch the plush, as if he wasn't worthy of it. At Marinette's encouragement, he gingerly held one of the little arms and gave it a squish to test its softness. "This is incredible work."

"Thanks." She beamed, swaying her hips and looking pleased with herself. "I try to make one of everyone, but this one's my favorite."

He looked at her questioningly, touched yet confused, but she wasn't meeting his eyes anymore. Her gaze turning back at the chest, she gently placed the plush in his arms and returned to her collection to start pulling more of her work out.

Viperion glanced at the stuffed imitation of him, unsure of how to handle it but doing his best to give it support. Marinette must've seen him at some point while setting out plushies, given the otherwise random giggle she'd let out.

After roughly a minute, she'd finished, sitting in the middle of the two groups she'd set out and spreading her arms out above them. Indeed, there was a group of plush superheroes to one side of her and even a group of plush akuma to the other. If he really eyed their details, he could tell which had been made when she was just starting out and which she'd done recently once she had experience, but it was all equally impressive to him.

Bringing the plush with him, he sat down in front of her and let it sit on his lap. He couldn't care less what he'd looked like, too busy admiring her work. His face must've shown it without him saying anything, as she puffed her chest out like she was basking in the unspoken praise.

Then, his eyes locked on something purple, black, and out of place amongst the heroes. In any other circumstance, he probably wouldn't have focused or commented on it, but it was also of him: specifically, Silencer, his akumatized self who had relentlessly chased down Bob Roth and stolen the voices of multiple people, including Ladybug herself. Bitter memories rushed back to him of waking up after the fact and fearing what might've happened while he'd been under someone else's control, the worst being if he'd hurt Marinette in some way

"That's an akuma," he said flatly. His own tone caught him off guard, but Marinette either didn't notice or didn't mind his disdain for that particular plush.

She followed his gaze to the mini Silencer in question. Rather than realizing that she'd made a mistake, she smiled, picking up the plush and setting it on her lap. Hand resting on the soft helmet on its head, she looked at him and explained, "Yeah, but... he's a hero to me."

She couldn't keep saying things like that to him without elaboration. He could only take so much without letting his civilian self show.

Thankfully, she elaborated this time, "People at my school get akumatized all the time; sometimes right in front of me. I have to run away from them as fast as I can, because even if they're not after me, I'm still another potential target for them." She turned the plush so she could look at its face, her eyes going soft as she continued, "Silencer was the first time someone got akumatized to protect me; when I felt honored to be protected. He didn't want my attention either, he wanted to get revenge because of what Bob Roth did."

Viperion hadn't known that. He'd had a brief discussion with Marinette about something he'd apparently said, but he'd been needed on stage and couldn't finish any sort of conversation with her. It warmed him greatly, knowing that she appreciated him even as an akuma.

"Sure, he was still another one of Hawk Moth's akuma, so Ladybug had to take care of him," she acknowledged, "but I think he's a little misunderstood, like you."

"Like me?"

She nodded, bringing back her point from earlier. "That's why the Viperion plush is my favorite. You're the least popular out of everyone, but I bet you do so much work during your Second Chances. Even though you should be getting more credit for it, no one notices until you're going around—" She gestured between them, indicating their current situation. "—like this."

He grew quiet, already seeing the connection. His heart sank at the thought.

"...It's relatable," she whispered with a sad smile, her fingertips trailing across the top ridge of the plush Silencer's helmet, "not being noticed for what you can do, people seeing you at your surface level..."

Shifting, Viperion held his plush self to his chest and moved within arm's reach of her. With his free hand, he reached out, cupping her cheek to tilt her face up to him.

Quietly, but firmly, he told her, "For what it's worth, I think you deserve to be noticed for all of you, not just the part that people decide to see."

It was definitely pushing the boundaries of what he should be "allowed" to do as a hero, but at its core, Viperion thought that that's what a hero was meant to do. Saving Paris was only the surface level of what people saw heroism as: the deeper, more important part was to care for the emotional well-being of the civilians.

He'd already gone through akumatization once and he'd never wish such an experience on Marinette. Keeping her happy was a top priority for him, both before and now, regardless of how she felt about him.

Her mouth curving back into the smile he'd missed in its short time away, Marinette reached up and placed her hand over his. "Thank you. Sorry if I brought the mood down."

"This is my job—" It wasn't, not in the way she'd be thinking of anyway. "—and it's not much compared to what you did. Thanks for appreciating me."

She nodded, eyes shining with her own gratefulness. There seemed to be more that she wanted to say, but she dropped his hand and shook her head to rid herself of it. Regretfully, she admitted, "I shouldn't keep you any longer."

He nearly blurted out that she could keep him forever if she wanted, but he held back. Equally as regretful as her, he returned the Viperion plush to her waiting hands.

Marinette took it, taking the plush in her free hand and scooting out of the way. The movement left a Marinette-sized space where she'd been, which is where she decided to set the plush down. Putting the Silencer plush back where he was before, she also took the Ladybug plush and let it settle next to the Viperion one.

It left the two as the only ones in the once-empty spot.

"They look good together," she commented, looking over her shoulder at him.

He stared, not sure how to feel about his crush having an opinion on his relationship with someone else, but he didn't express it. She clearly thought highly of his partnership with Ladybug in a way no one else did, which he considered a positive.

"...Yeah." He grinned at her. "I think so too."

——

"So?" Ladybug clasped her hands together, curiosity in her eyes. "How'd it go?"

"I got to talk to people," Luka replied vaguely as he handed the miraculous back to her. His visit with Marinette had made everything else fuzzy by comparison. "There was no trouble, but there was only one person who wanted to see Viperion."

"I'm sure that'll change!" she assured, her blinding confidence thoroughly astounding him. Leaning in and grasping his shoulders, she insisted, "You deserve to be appreciated, whether that's as a civilian, a hero, or an akuma."

He went to thank her, practically overflowing with all the affection he'd received at that point, but he paused when her words truly registered with him.

Ladybug, however, didn't give him a chance to respond. She stepped away, stashing the snake miraculous into her yoyo and making her escape back out into the city with her usual wave of good-bye.

Luka was certain that he'd heard properly: she'd said akuma. He supposed it could just be a coincidence that Marinette and Ladybug had both happened to reference his akumatized self, but Ladybug's expression had hinted to him that it was more than that. It had been strange to him that Marinette's balcony had been open for him, and even more so that Marinette happened to be there like she was waiting for him. If both she and Ladybug had wanted him to feel appreciated (mission accomplished on that one, obviously), then it was possible that they'd teamed up to give him a double dose of gratitude.

Or at least, that must've been the reason, because the only other option was—

Ah.

Just like that, Luka blushed a deep shade of red, the memory of Marinette placing the Ladybug and Viperion plushies together burning itself permanently into his mind.

[sunflowerseedsandscience]

Various Storms and Saints- Prologue

"You still haven't told me if he's cute or not."

Scully sighed and pressed the heels of her hands against her forehead, cradling the phone in the crook of her neck. Nobody could make her regret bringing up a subject as quickly as her sister when she put her mind to it. "No, Missy, I haven't," she allowed. "Because it's irrelevant. Mulder's good looks aren't the reason I miss working with him."

"So you admit it? He is cute?"

"Missy. Can we please have a serious conversation, for once?"

"Fine, fine," Melissa acquiesced, though her tone made it clear this point would be revisited in the future. "Tell me why you miss working with him, then."

"Well... part of it is the cases we tackled together," Scully said. "The autopsies I'm stuck doing now that the X-Files are shut down seem so boring in comparison to murderous clones and mind-controlling worms in the Arctic."

Melissa whistled. "Yeah, I can see how that might be a little bit of a come down. What's the other part?"

"What other part?"

"You said the cases are part of the reason. So what's the other part?"

Scully closed her eyes. How to define this most indefinable of relationships, especially to Melissa, who so often seemed to think every person in her life fit into a neat box? "I miss the way he spoke to me," she said finally. "He never talked down to me, not even when he was standing so close I practically had to break my neck to meet his eyes. He made me feel like the things I have to say are important... that they carried real weight with him, even when he didn't agree with me." She chuckled ruefully. "Which was most of the time. He's always shown me a respect that I don't get that often, being surrounded by men in positions of authority who all love to hear themselves talk."

"That does sound like it would be tough to leave behind," agreed Melissa. "Couldn't you... I dunno, lobby to be his partner on whatever assignment he's on now, though? Then at least you'd still be working together even if it wasn't in the X-Files."

"He's working with someone else," said Scully darkly. "At least he was on his most recent case. I don't know if they're officially partners or not."

"And you don't like whoever it is," said Melissa knowingly. "I can hear it in your voice." "I don't really know anything about him," Scully admitted. "But... there's something strange about him, you know? He just makes me nervous." There had been something about Alex Krycek's fresh-faced innocence that had seemed less than genuine, even if Scully couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Bad vibes, huh?"

"Maybe." Scully sighed. "For all I know, it's just my jealousy getting in the way because I want to be the one out there with Mulder."

"See, I knew you liked him," crowed Melissa, and Scully groaned, exasperated.

"Melissa. It's not like that."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say," Melissa huffed. "Hang on a sec, okay?" The phone was muffled, as though Melissa had put her hand over the receiver. Someone's voice asked a garbled question, Melissa gave an equally garbled response, and a moment later, she was back. "Hey Danes, I gotta go, okay?"

"Wait, Melissa, what's your--"

"There's a meditation session I'm supposed to lead and they're waiting for me. I'll call you soon, okay?"

"But Melissa, where are--" There was a click, and the line went dead.

Scully dropped her bedroom extension back into its cradle on the nightstand and sank back onto her bed with a sigh, snuggling into the cardigan she'd pulled on over her work clothes when she'd walked into her apartment. She'd come home from work for lunch, having finished her morning teaching session a little early, and had been available purely by chance when Melissa called for the first time in two months. Phone conversations with her older sister, while always welcome, tended to be exhausting these days. She hadn't seen Melissa in years, not since the day after her graduation from medical school. Melissa hadn't made it to the event itself, but she'd shown up at the party her parents had thrown her afterwards. Melissa hadn't understood her sister's disappointment, and Maggie Scully, as she so often did, had defended her elder daughter to her younger.

"You know big ceremonies aren't really your sister's thing, Dana," she'd said, patting Scully's shoulder consolingly. "She barely sat through her own high school graduation. Just be thankful she's here for the celebration, all right?"

Sitting through a graduation ceremony was boring, to be sure, but that hadn't stopped Scully from doing it for all three of her siblings when they'd finished high school, plus for Bill and Charlie when they'd finished college. In her opinion, it had nothing to do with how exciting or boring the ceremony itself was, and everything to do with showing up for the people she loved when their hard work and accomplishments were recognized.

Showing up. That was something Melissa had traditionally had difficulty with, when it came down to it.

They hadn't even had a working phone number for Melissa last Christmas when Ahab had passed. Scully, tasked with handling everything while her mother waded through her initial shock and grief, had called every friend of Melissa's she could think of, trying to locate her sister, and had failed. She'd been reduced to sending a letter to Melissa's last known address in hopes it might get correctly forwarded. But it never got to her, as was evidenced three months later when Melissa had called home, chatted with Maggie cheerfully about her recent travels, and then had asked to speak to her father and had been completely lost when her mother had burst into tears.

"Free-spirited" had always been how the family had described Melissa. But deep down, in her darkest and most shameful thoughts, the word Scully sometimes landed on was "selfish."

Scully's cell phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. She half-expected it to be Mulder, begging her to do another autopsy he couldn't trust with anyone else, but it was Roy Seekamp, a fellow FBI pathologist whose office in the Hoover building was next to Scully's.

"Where are you?" asked Roy. "One of the AD's came looking for you but your office is locked. Skinner, I think his name was?"

"I came home for lunch. What's going on?"

"Something big is going down in Virginia," said Roy. "Some hostage situation with an escaped mental patient."

Scully frowned, confused. "Why would they need me for that?" she asked.

"I don't think they actually need you or anything," said Roy. "The AD was just looking for you to let you know your old partner is there on the scene."

Scully's heart skipped a beat. "Mulder is there?" She got off the bed and raced out of her bedroom, tearing off the cardigan and snatching up her bag. "What's he doing there? He's not a hostage negotiator!"

"No idea," said Roy. "I think AD Skinner just wanted you to hear it from him. You coming back to the office?"

"Yes," Scully said, pulling on her shoes. "Be there soon." She ended the call and stuffed her phone into her bag, then looked down and realized she was still clutching her cardigan. She folded it in half and draped it over the back of her couch on her way out the door.

It stayed there, untouched, for over a month.

[baby--charchar]

Baby Vaggie + Snack Time

So like I've said, I see Vaggie as being autistic and think that would factor into her regression. She has exactly 4 (...3) safe foods that she'll always agree to, including pupusas, rice, chicken nuggets from a specific brand, and water. She's also probably food aversive in her bigger headspace, but she may try to hide that more since she'd be masking. As a baby not needing to mask, she has no qualms about saying 'no' to unwanted food.

'Saying' may be a strong word. She's nonverbal in babyspace, so "chuck the plate at the wall and run away" is probably more accurate.

It worries Lucifer. Honestly. He worries over vitamins, he worries over protein and fiber, he worries over whether he made her enough food to keep her full. Charlie's always been such a little foodie. Even regressed, she loves trying new things! He's never really had a loved one like Vaggie to look after, and he's scared he's doing it wrong. He's certain he's neglecting her by not giving her enough.

So he sets off to try to find more foods to offer little Vaggie! Fruit? ...no. Oatmeal? Yuck. Mac and cheese? Never. She either won't come near him if he's holding something for her to try, or she rips the plate out of his hands and slams it on the ground, making a huge disgusting mess. Not once does she bring herself to try anything.

He means well. He just wants to avoid upset tummies for her. But it's stressing her the fuck out. Every time she slips into babyspace, he wants to get her to try something new. But no!!! She hates all the foods!!! It gets to the point where Baby Vaggie starts throwing tantrums whenever she starts feeling hungry, just anticipating a fight.

Well no, see, NOW Lucifer fucked up. Now she won't even eat her safe foods if he's the one who makes it because she can't trust him. He feels just horrible.

Eventually he and Vaggie need to have a talk when she's not regressed, with Charlie mediating. With a really thorough explanation on sensory issues, plus some tough love, they're able to convince Lucifer that backing off with the food thing is how he can support Vaggie best. Not by forcing it.

He completely stops trying to force the food issue. He understands why it was harmful for Vaggie. But secretly...he doesn't actually feel BETTER. He's still so scared that Vaggie's not getting enough and that he's making her sick by underfeeding her. He thinks he just can't win as her caregiver. But he LISTENS to her and stops. And that matters the most to Vaggie.

One day, by chance, Baby Vaggie toddles over to the kitchen counter and starts messing around. Lucifer is so wrapped up in what he's doing that he doesn't notice her at first.

She found an apple pie. Cooled thankfully, so it won't burn her. But a big, beautiful baked pie he made to surprise Charlie later.

He looks over and there's Vaggie just having the time of her life destroying it. She loves the smell and the *SQUISH* of squeezing it in between her little fingers. He starts to react but...just gives up. It's too damn late to stop her. He sighs, feeling defeated.

But her laugh is pretty contagious. The goof ball's smeared pie everywhere. Across the counter, in her hair, on her pajamas. Kid's just a walking disaster and is having too much fun to realize it. He can't stay mad at her. In fact, he comes over to join in. He draws little pictures and scribbles in the muck with her, and makes silly "SMASH! SMASH! SMASH!" noises when he crushes the sliced apples on the counter. Vaggie cackles from all the energy.

Vaggie goes to wipe the drool off her lips with the back of her hand, and Lucifer notices she's smeared a big glop of syrup across her face. Across her mouth. Her little pink tongue just barely pokes out of her mouth in curiosity. Lucifer pauses and holds his breath.

She cringes and spits on the floor. Yuck.

But...the baby's tried it...! The baby tried some new food! Lucifer is delighted!

"OH you little sunshine! You little duckie, I'm so proud, you're so brave!" He goes on cooing at her until she's just sick of it. But! His babyest baby girl did a thing! Tried a new thing! On her own terms and in her own time! It's just one tiny little thing but it means the world to him because she means the world to him!

He starts brainstorming more food they can play with. More smearing! More sensory! More messes! More fun! Get his baby all the fun!!!

Charlie comes home and nearly faints at the sight of the kitchen, which is absolutely trashed. They're both walking disasters.

[prince-liest]

been devouring your 666 series and LOVING it but also read some of your other hazbin works and have to shout them out, love her/love her not was so so good. it made since while i was reading but maybe an out of left field question: who would 666 alastor and vox be most likely to threesome with if vox suggested it? (or rather, who would alastor give the most amount of time pretending to consider before saying "lol fuck no" to).

Aw, thank you so much! I've really jumped into the radiostatic pits the last few weeks, but I still adore the other Hazbin Hotel characters immensely, so I'm glad my non-666 fics are also getting some love! <3

And LOL - your "or rather" is on point, because I don't think that 666 Alastor would actually agree to a threesome with anyone, especially now that they've gotten to the point where he actually has to communicate sometimes instead of relying on performative violent posturing (oh no! vulnerability! definitely not showing that in front of other people if he doesn't have to).

That said, here are your options:

Lucifer, not because he's even remotely interested, but because he thinks the prospect of forcing everyone involved to get as far as the topic even being brought up would be hilarious in the most sadistic way possible (as long as he does not himself actually have to face the reality of Lucifer knowing literally anything true about his sex life)

Velvette, because he knows she's not interested but also knows that she'd be a great partner in crime for dunking on Vox and the longer he pretends to ponder it, the closer Vox gets to despair

[gffa]

Ok over on the discord we're invested in your 9-1-1 journey and agree 100% with your assessments, but we NEED to hear your thoughts on Mr. Eddie Diaz, esp his introduction, like I still cackle that this weewoo show actually introduced a new character half-naked in slow-mo with "Whatta Man" playing in the background (and I'm sure you've figured this out but it's him and Buck that's the giant ship).

I have struggled to put my 911 thoughts into coherence because there are two giant blaring sirens going off in my brain whenever I think about this series: 1) 🚨 🚨 🚨 🚨 🚨 ANGELA BASSETT🚨 🚨 🚨 🚨 🚨 🚨 How am I supposed to care about anything else on this show when Angela Bassett is there, being stunning and delivering a performance that's top tier every single time??? Okay, I'm being tongue-in-cheek about it, but genuinely Athena is my favorite character and the one I'm most emotionally invested in, the one that it's hard for me to look away from. It helps that I'm also deeply fond of Peter Krause because I watched Sports Night and loved him in that a lot, so connecting Bobby to Athena's story has been a double shot of my faves. 2) I AM LAUGHING SO HARD BECAUSE I'M SURE THEY DON'T MEAN IT BUT WHAT IS UP WITH THE WAY THEY ARE STRUCTURING THE BUDDIE DYNAMIC? Introducing a character with "Whatta Man" playing is hilarious, but even more hilarious to me is the way their arcs are kind of thematically running parallel to each other. Buck's whole character arc is about him feeling finally ready to grow up, to take on the scary parts of relationships that include responsibilities towards other people and being genuinely emotionally available, that was the entire point of getting close to Abby, who came with her sick mother that was always going to be part of her life. So, Abby leaves, then along comes Eddie who has a kid that he takes his responsibilities for very seriously, where it's not intentional to intersect with Buck's arc, but then they have them immediately interacting in a way that neither character does as much with any other character, conflicting at first, but then opening up and being real with each other and I'm sitting here going, "If one of these dudes was a lady, the way Buck just stared at Eddie with his kid, they would 100% be signally that this was building subtext." I can't say I'm deeply emotionally invested in them yet (see my Angela Bassett Problem), but it's been a wild ride watching them interact and going, wow, are they doing this on purpose? Because they sure clicked really fast. *eyebrow raise* Bonus thoughts: I knew Chimney/Maddie was going to be a thing beforehand, so do I like them because they're cute or because I was primed for them? Who knows, but they're cute! I love that they brought back Tatiana and I have to say, maybe she was kinda cold, but I was 100% on her side, because she was right. She didn't love him and if she'd gotten pulled into that, she'd have been expected to drop her entire life to be at his bedside and that's not what she wanted, I love that the show was so gentle with her and Chimney's reunion and realization that they sparked each other into realizing they each needed to get on a new path. I love that Hen got to be complicated and almost left her ex to die because it would have saved her a lot of hassle and she really hated her, but ultimately was a hero, yesssss, let queer women be complicated, messy, and ultimately heroic!