#but i really like the thought of Hollow just accepting to join on their own

[echoingetoile]

//: May of said it earlier but I'm pretty sure Hollow was having fun being at Godhome. They enjoy a good fight, their used to the gold being everywhere [ though wary due to the Radiance ], and theres almost a welcoming feel to all the fancies that reminds them of the Palace. They know that their being used, again, but this time their given the chance to fight in their prime. Heck, considering that they are dramatic in their fight, they might even be just a little happy that theres a audeince in the background as it means their not still some how stuck with the Radiance.

//: SO WITH THAT! 100% would of seen Hollow/Pure sitting at the edge of the hotspring right before the fight or maybe just sitting at one of the benches chilling

#ooc #[ sure theres a chance that Godseeker ended up pulling Hollow into Godshome #but i really like the thought of Hollow just accepting to join on their own #going through the whole gauntlet and then ending up one of the gods to fight #after all that just see them chilling on a bench asdf ]

[sarahisslytherin]

•❣•୨୧ 𝙩𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ୨୧•❣•

vincent renzi x reader

summary: vincent comes over to watch the eclipse and a secret gets out.

contains: fluffy fluff.

a/n: not me writing a fic about some random pathetic white middle-aged french man just cos of one movie what.

word count: 0.7k

The snow falls softly upon your little impromptu bonfire. There’s going to be a solar eclipse tonight, so you thought you’d make a night of it. You fished two beer bottles out of the fridge and invited Vincent to join you. He’d been a good friend to you for years, though you couldn’t help but harbor a small crush on him; it was harmless, really. So maybe you felt butterflies’ wings flutter in your stomach when he smiled, felt your cheeks heat up at the slightest touch. Maybe you’d spent many late nights drunk on wine and on him, philosophizing about the most asinine of topics deep into the early morning. Tonight will be one of those nights. 

“What a fine establishment!” Vincent chuckles, unintentionally startling you. “I’m sorry, did I scare you?” His feet fall silently upon the thick coat of snow beneath you, leaving a trail from the cabin up to the bonfire. He’s carrying a mug of hot chocolate in each hand (you quickly ran out of beer), the steam visibly wafting up into the winter air.

“Only a little.” you admit sheepishly. He smirks, and your heart melts in spite of the biting cold engulfing you. Vincent’s gentle gaze lingers a moment before finally turning toward the fire, which he bends down to throw another log on. His silver hair seems white from the snowflakes gathering atop it, something like an angel. You take a seat on a nearby log, sipping on your hot chocolate. 

“Why so quiet tonight?” he asks as he sits at your side.

“I’m not being quiet.” you frown defensively.

“Non, pas du tout.” he tuts: No, not at all. “You’ve barely spoken since I arrived. Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, Vincent.” you insist, try forcing a laugh and hope he doesn’t notice. “I promise you I’m fine.” You hadn’t noticed until he mentioned it but he’s right. Tonight feels different. Perhaps it’s because of the eclipse, perhaps it’s not. You’re not quite sure what to think and then you’re not even sure you recall how to think when Vincent begins absentmindedly tracing his fingers across your back; his own quiet way of comforting you. You watch as he lights up a cigarette and takes a drag, cheeks hollowing out with the inhale and smoke puffing out with the exhale. 

“That’s gonna end up killing you one day, you know.” you sigh at him, shooting his cigarette a nasty look.

“Hopefully you’ll have told me what’s going on with you before that.” he retorts, a cynical brow arched as he takes another drag. “Come on, now.”

“Why are you pushing this?” you stand, suddenly defensive. Vincent stubs his cigarette, his undivided attention all for you. 

“Because you’re my friend and I care for you.” he says as if it were a universal truth known across the globe and accepted as an irrefutable fact. 

“That’s just the problem, Vincent!” you burst, tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you look down to where he sits by the fire. “I’m your friend! I’ll only ever be your friend!”

Vincent stands now, puzzled eyes now widening with realization. “What are you saying?”

“What do you think, Vincent?” you ask, the sarcasm practically dripping off your tongue. “I’m tired of being just a friend. I can’t take it anymore!”

“Don’t be ‘just my friend’.” he says, desperation catching in his throat. “Be something more.”

“What?” you stand as if frozen to the snow, stunned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve loved you since the day we met!” he admits, the sound of his voice like a tree falling in the woods. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say it back.”

He strides his way towards you, his hand cupping your rosy cheek. “Je t’aime.” His lips press against yours softly, growing in intensity with each passing second. You pull away a moment, look into his sweet eyes and finally say it back to him. “I love you too, Vincent.” The kiss resumes, and your breath is taken away all over again. It’s as if the world has shifted, gone silent; you feel your sight go black. Vincent must feel it too, because he pulls away and looks around only to find that the world has indeed gone black.

“Vincent, the eclipse!” you squeal, pulling him close. “It’s so beautiful.”

You don’t really notice it, but when Vincent recounts the story you learn he was looking at you when he replied. “Oui, beautiful.”

#anatomy of a fall #vincent renzi #swann arlaud #vincent renzi x reader #miscellaneous #fluff

[hephaestn]

It’s been a long time since Steve left Hawkins behind, since he left the summer of 1985 tightly locked in a corner of his mind.

He was happy in New York City, loved his apartment with Robin, loved the friends he had made here, breathed and exhaled warmth for this city which had so caringly taken him in. But, he felt hollow some days, especially the days where that lock would loosen and the memories would come back.

They were happy memories, for the most part. He cherished those ones, the ones which still made him smile to himself in the middle of the street. Though, when the bad ones hit, it was still unbearable.

He couldn’t think of Billy, of the way he could still remember the taste of his lips, the shape of his waist underneath his hand. He couldn’t think of how Billy left him one night with only a note to remember him by.

I had to. I’m sorry.

Those five words were still imprinted in Steve’s mind, forever echoing even after being torn apart and thrown into the trash that very morning.

Steve doesn’t really know why today his thoughts have traveled back in time to sunny days and endless love making nights. He needs a distraction, whichever it might be.

That’s why he accepts to join Robin and her coworkers for dinner. They’ve chosen a tiny place which had just recently opened in Greenwich Village. It’s cozy; wooden furniture and fairy lights, black leather chairs and artsy painted walls. Steve likes it, feels calm in it.

All of Robin’s coworkers are nice, they keep up the conversation, always making sure Steve feels included, which he greatly appreciates. Dinner is incredible, probably one of the most tasteful meals he’s had in… years.

As a starter the waiter brings out an assortment of bruchette, each one topped by ingredients from all the parts of the world; Italy, Greece, Mexico, Thailand, Morocco. Steve can’t help but lick his fingers after each bite.

Main course is hearty; a fresh sea urchin pasta. It tastes like the sea, like the infinite summers he’d spend as a child in Positano with his parents.

They get asked if they’d like a second course which everyone at the table is quick to deny since they’re all full and ready to leave some room for dessert. The waiter tells them the last course and liquors will be presented to them by the chef which lifts whispers of curiosity amongst them all.

Steve is enjoying himself, laughing with Robin as she goes into extreme detail about her last failed date night. The thoughts have gone away, he’s free of them again, for a while at least. Until he sees him—white chef jacket, tight around his arms, his hair is tightly pulled back, leaving his face to shine under the warm light of the restaurant.

Steve’s vision goes blurry for a second, disconcerted by the shock, by the confusion of if this is really happening or not.

“Robin,” Billy says, and there’s a long pause. “Steve.”

He can feel Robin’s eyes on him, Billy’s eyes on him, but he can’t look at either of them, instead he buries his face in the glass of wine in front of him. The world seems to be crumbling around him, every person becoming faceless, every light in the room becoming distorted. His heart is pounding incessantly, looking for a way out of his chest.

Steve doesn’t really know how or why he does it but he looks up and meets Billy’s gaze. And, there’s something in his eyes, a mix of sorrow and longing Steve wasn’t prepared to face.

“So, uh.” Billy clears his throat. “Here we have, the Sailing Lovers. Eclair filled with a rose and elderberry crème pat with a glaze of Madagascar vanilla bean, accompanied by an Amaretto liqueur.”

Steve is entranced as Billy explains dessert, too in his own mind to notice the glisten in Billy’s eyes as he makes his way back into the kitchen.

#harringrove #steve x billy #billy x steve #billy hargrove #ch: billy hargrove #ch: steve harrington #misc: ficlet #lu tries to write #idk between the bear and lessons in chemistry i can’t stop thinking about food as a medium for love #so here we go LDKFKFK #i haven’t proofread it #i’m winging it once again

[drill-teeth-art]

From One Mask To Another

Soundwave and Mixmaster share a drink in a private meeting spot.

Content Warnings: None that I can think of, but feel free to let me know if I should add something here!

Note: Soundwave uses it/its pronouns in this. Scene under the cut !

“Y-y-you’re late,” Mixmaster said, leaning casually on the doorframe to storage room number 35-b. It was where the Constructicons kept excess materials that usually ended up dumped in his drum to be reworked. So only he really had any reason to be there. “Reason: Irrelevant,” Soundwave responded, running a quick check of the camera feeds around the storage wing. Mixmaster shrugged. “I wasn’t asking. J-just…observing.” He tilted his head slightly and looked off down one of the hallways, his lips curled into a small smirk. “Hook is in 78-c g-g-getting some corrosion resistant gloves. We sh-should duck inside. And keep quiet.” “Affirmative,” Soundwave confirmed Mixmaster’s statement with a quick peek into that hall on the camera feed, nodded slowly, and followed Mixmaster into the storage unit, shutting the door quietly behind itself. It didn’t inquire about Hook or the gloves. None of its business, and Mixmaster wasn’t the type to share excess information easily anyway. Soundwave watched as Mixmaster sat down and leaned against the wall. Soundwave noted the bit of hesitation as he sat which was new. It seemed a pain in his hip was bugging him, but Soundwave simply joined the Constructicon on the floor, Mixmaster taking note of the replacement mask Soundwave was wearing as it did. It was brand new. He could tell. It was lacking in all the scrapes and scuffs of the old one. But Mixmaster didn’t pry, simply offering Soundwave a cube of energon. “S-s-same as last time. Except I added a c-citrus flavor to it. Earth flavor,” Mixmaster said, smiling softly when Soundwave accepted the cube. “Appreciated,” Soundwave replied, turning away as it opened its mask to take a sip. Mixmaster turned his gaze away, not daring to peek at the tapedeck while it drank. Clearly it didn’t want him to. It never wanted him to. And to do so would violate the wonderful thing they had going on together. Meeting up for drinks and fooling around. No follow up questions allowed, though neither of them dared to say that part. “Assessment: Better than last time,” Soundwave said, offering the empty cube back to Mixmaster. “Ooo w-wonderful,” Mixmaster hummed as he took it back, pleased with his handiwork. “Would y-y-you like the recipe?” Soundwave paused for a moment. “Affirmative. Reason: Frenzy would enjoy it.” The mention of one of the cassettes was new. Mixmaster nodded amicably, sending the recipe to Soundwave over comms. After a moment or two of silence, Mixmaster started with his usual small talk. It was never anything with any real substance.

“I w-w-was in the repair bay th-the other night, cleaning the tools. You know they need to be scrubbed after use, so th-there I was. S-s-scrubbing.”

It was never anything interesting.

“And I figured I could just use b-b-bleach. But I didn’t want to just start mixing it with my usual c-cleaners. Cause a n-nasty reaction? No th-thanks!”

It was never anything new.

“So I decided to just use what I always did! No c-c-crazy experiments for me th-that night. Hahaha!”

It was always words devoid of information. Hollow stories that never mentioned any other Decepticon or any notable event or any feeling or thought, presented charmingly. He was always charming, social, put toegther. His act was well-rehearsed, deliberate in its lack of his thoughts, feelings, and relationships. Soundwave listened even though there wasn’t anything there to find. Mixmaster was good at pretending he had nothing to hide by talking a lot about nothing. Soundwave respected the routine as a mech of few words and a million secrets of its own. It was an act different from Soundwave’s own deliberate silence and one that worked just as well at keeping others out.

Mixmaster chuckled a bit as he poured himself another cube and sipped at it, having had a couple since he’d started telling his story. “Ah, I told you th-th-that one last time, didn’t I?” Soundwave nodded slowly. He had. Mixmaster knew when he started telling the story that it was the second time. Soundwave had seen him do that before. It was part of his character to be a bit forgetful even though he wasn’t. Mixmaster smiled at him knowingly. He knew Soundwave saw right through him. “Tell me about your d-day,” he purred before finishing his third cube of energon. It wasn’t a secret between them. The awareness of what the other was up to. They didn’t have to say it to know.

“Soundwave: Tended to security duty.” “H-h-how was it?” “Security duty: uneventful.” “Well, th-that’s good! What shift do you h-have tomorrow?” “Tomorrow’s shift: security duty.”

They each knew the other was a fraud, hiding behind the mystery and the mundane. A mess swept under the rug. A face under a mask.

“S-s-sounds nice,” Mixmaster moved over to sit on Soundwave’s lap, facing it. Soundwave set its hands on Mixmaster’s arms with an amount of tenderness no Decepticon other than a cassette had ever seen. And Mixmaster. The Constructicon’s hands rested on the tapedeck’s shoulders, and he flinched a bit as he started to lean down, his hip troubling him. Soundwave moved a hand quickly to support him. “Sorry th-th-thank you,” he muttered. “Accidentally b-banged it the other n-night…” That was new. An event. Some information. Soundwave’s vice grip on its silence slipped. “Understood. Not trouble. Rumble: helps Soundwave with weak knee joint sometimes.” Their gazes met, and for a moment they shared a silence filled with nothing but tension. No follow up questions. With no words spoken, they fell back on that rule. Mixmaster shut his optics and Soundwave opened its mask, and they held each other and kissed softly. Two frauds safely behind their masks again, keeping things quiet together.

#transformers #transformers fanfiction #maccadam #soundwave #mixmaster #constructicons #decepticons #transformers fan continuity

[suengmi]

✧ all is lost ✧ 3k, r

hollowed eyes with dark circles splattered underneath. like clouds on a dark day, thunder waiting to boom. the man standing before you; looking like he's going to break, but he doesn't. he never does. what were you doing wrong?

pairing: lee know x afab!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

genre: angst, romance, smut [[[[emotional]]]] lmao

warnings/other: cussing, slight!arguing, crying, unprotected sex, shower sex, kinda? proofread soz, prompt

♡ masterlist ♡ please reblog if you liked! it rly helps and i love to hear your feedback ♡

a/n: HERE WE GO BEBEHHHH ANGSTY MINHO LOVE MAKING BEBEHHH thank you anon for being patient! i hope you enjoy eee but fr as always upset myself bc ITS FINGER GRIPPIN EMOTIONAL SEX YUCKDKD go away I need to rest rip

-

the first time you met lee know, you were in your black silk pyjamas. not really the best for the occasion you had thought, hair slicked back with a cat headband and eyebrows not filled in. lee know had come to your house to watch movies with jisung, your housemate. it wasn't often jisung brought people over, but you remember jisung mentioning that his friend was a movie buff like both of you were.

"this is lee know, minho sometimes if you're close." jisung had said, gesturing between you and his friend.

your lips formed into a straight line, nodding awkwardly. you just came out to grab a snack and drink. but here he was, being friendly and nice to you, openly making conversation. he had asked about you, what you liked and what you did for a job. how could you refuse? you weren't one to be rude. plus, he was really cute. that part didn't bother you as much. after a short conversation you had said goodbye, shuffling back to your room, a warm cup of green tea in your hand.

it wasn't until the third time he had come over to watch movies that you decided to join. you had carefully sat on the edge of the couch, trying not to get close.

to your surprise, lee know had slapped the cushion next to him, eyes still on the tv. you slinked down slowly, letting your silk pyjamas do the job for you. it wasn't long before he looked at you, offering you a handful of spicy cheetos. mouth full as he spoke, "want thum?"

-

when you had observed jisung and lee knows behaviour, lee know was very touchy. he was always hugging and laying on jisung, linking arms with him when they walked.

in saying that, the closer that you and lee know got the more he would touch you. always hugging you when he came and left, always asking if you were okay when you were sleepy on the couch, hand rubbing on your arm gently.

a few times he had dragged you from the couch, pulling you by your arm to end up steering you by your hips, making car sounds as he pushed you towards your room. sometimes, he'd even use your cat headband to hold his hair back when he washed his face. you didn't mind though. after he was done he would always put it back on your head, slapping your cheeks gently saying you looked cute. always with those damn touches.

this is what began it all, the way he touched you. he wasn't afraid of it and you loved it, loved how comfortable he was. every time he touched you, you'd reciprocate, seemingly just as comfortable as him.

-

one movie night down the track, jisung was asleep on the couch, your favourite ghibli movie playing.

"from yesterday!" you grinned, freshly brushed teeth showing. "it's my favourite."

lee know had laughed at your silly grin and said he hadn't seen it.

as the movie began you felt his hand lay on your thigh, gently opening his fingers. he didn't look at you, just continued watching the tv.

a few minutes or so into the movie, you peered down to his hand. obviously open for you to grab it. the urge over took you, just to feel his hands against your own.

fuck it. you had thought, placing your palm on his. he didn't make a face or jolt, but accepted the touch, fingers lacing with your own. it was like it was natural, like it was meant to be. this was the beginning of something simple, something new, fresh and exciting.

he smiled at you, his eyes lighting up like a boy who had his first crush. you returned the smile, head leaning down to his shoulder.

-

as the days went on you found yourself falling helplessly in love with him. the time went too quickly, never seemingly able to spend enough time with together. he'd always laugh, resting his forehead on yours telling you that you were too greedy. it was his favourite thing about you, how needy you were for him and wanted to keep him all to yourself.

lee know was your biggest supporter, always being there for you in your bad times. telling you he loved all parts of you, the ones you called ugly or bad, and the ones you hated. nothing was off limits to him, showing your whole self as is, not hiding any of your darkness like you did to all the others you loved.

he was strong, a statue in his nature never faulting. never was there a complaint, a rude tone or even an argument. he always listened, caring about how you felt and what you had to say.

not once had you been so in love with someone before, your heart swelling more and more as the months went on.

-

something was bothering you, you weren't sure what. maybe it was the fact that lee know hadn't been himself lately. there were occasions where you could sense he was upset, but he would comfort your worries with a kiss, pulling you into a hug letting you know he was fine.

he drew a line, it was one you weren't allowed to cross. you wanted so desperately to see what was behind the line, to get into a part of him that no one else had. the more you pondered on it the more you had realised you had never seen him cry, never had he ever come to you for comfort. so that's what it was, he didn't seek shelter in you. it made you feel useless, like you weren't doing what you were supposed to.

the last few weeks you had seen him more quiet, seen him more distant. anxiety jumped in your throat whenever you thought about it. his kisses lessened, the sex lessened and his usual smile wasn't as full as it commonly was.

-

it's about one in the morning, lee knows arrival wakes you from your sleep on the couch. he had given you a key to the house and you were able to use it freely, not ever needing to tell him if you were at his or not. he always welcomed you, never questioning it.

when you come to the door, your met with your boyfriend. you take in his appearance.

hollowed eyes with dark circles splattered underneath. like clouds on a dark day, thunder waiting to boom. the man standing before you; looking like he's going to break, but he doesn't. he never does. what were you doing wrong?

"babe?" you say quietly, hand grabbing his empty one.

"hey." he says to you blankly, pressing a swift kiss on your forehead. he lets go of your hand, throwing his bags on the ground and plops himself on the couch. he sighs as he takes out his phone to scroll.

"is it okay that i'm here?" you ask meekly, standing in front of him. he nods without looking up at you.

"are you okay?"

he looks up to you for a second, nodding again without effort.

expressionless and bored is how you'd explain him. you're frozen for a moment, not knowing how you should approach this.

you've got to say something, anything.

"talk to me." you say bending down, placing a hand onto his leg.

"baby, i'm fine." he says, tone slightly agitated.

he's never spoken to you like that. a dull pain aches in your heart. for the first time ever, you didn't feel welcome.

you bend to your knees, hands placing themselves on his thighs. "if i did something wrong, please tell-"

"it's not always about you." he grunts, pushing your arm gently to make his way to his room.

you didn't follow him. you thought about it, wanting to grab onto him and hold him. instead, you opt for laying on the couch. feeling like if you go into his room, you'll get the lee know that you didn't know, the lee know that you wanted to. you wanted to see all of him, just like he saw all of you. but maybe he wasn't ready. you had to respect that.

-

a small sound enters your ears. you're not asleep but you're not awake, somewhere in between. is the shower on? you're not even sure what time it is, but it's still dark. in your sleepy daze, you throw your blanket to the side and walk to the bathroom door, eyes still fuzzy in the dark.

the door is slightly ajar, rarely was it ever shut when you were in his apartment. you can hear the shower running, fast and hot, the steam slightly escaping through the crack.

"babe?" you ask curiously. it doesn't seem like he can hear you.

you push the door forwards a bit, barely a centimetre or two. "babe?"

still nothing.

this was new territory, you'd never experienced your boyfriend like this. although you didn't want to push his boundaries, it was hurting your heart to see him so upset. you wanted to help.

"honey?" you call one last time, slowly manoeuvring yourself through the doors crack.

still nothing.

just barely, you can see him through the glass door, his figure seemingly sitting on the ground. you approach the shower, sliding the door open gingerly, only to be met with your boyfriend in a state. his head is in his hands, hot water relentless and boiling as it trickles down his back. he doesn't look up at you, but he knows you're there.

in a small haste, you slip off your shirt with ease, now naked aside from your undies.

you don't speak, bending down to be at his level. your hands grip gently onto his, prying them away from his face with care.

the expression he gives you sends a sudden tinge of sorrow to your stomach. he's broken, an absolute mess. the rings around his eyes are red, dark circles even worse than before. red blotches stain across his cheeks, clearly from crying and steam from the shower. he seems hesitant to let you see, head dipping from your view.

still weary, you slowly manouver to slot yourself behind him, wrapping your legs close to his hips and hands resting under his arms, locking in front of his waist.

this cracks him. the tears falling from him worsen, as if triggered by your touch. you let him cry, your head resting in the crook of his neck. you sway gently, as if rocking him like baby.

both of you stay like this for a while, letting him get whatever it was off of his chest. you're a bit confused and anxious, still unsure of how to approach this, but you just want him to feel okay. you'll do anything at this point.

eventually he speaks, breaking the silence. voice cracking with every syllable. "i'm so- sor- sorry."

as if a confirmation and hush to his words, you kiss his neck softly. one of your hands raises to rest on his head, massaging his scalp gently. he leans into your hand, body slipping a bit against your own.

"breathe. whatever you need, i got you." you whisper, still rocking with him gently. "anything."

the breath he lets out is shaky, but he's stopped his sobbing now. you help him with his breaths, matching your own with his. this seems to calm him down, his breathing more even now.

"c'mon." you say, letting him go as lightly as you can to stand up. he quietly whimpers from the loss of your touch, staring up at you.

you hold your hand down to him, trying to get him to stand. "let's wash you."

you didn't question why he was crying, or why he didn't open up to you. maybe he just needed to come to it on his own terms, and you were okay with that, thinking about it now.

he hums lowly, eyes still red. he's enjoying your touches as you wash his hair, his hands resting on your hips.

"this okay?" you say, fingers softly rubbing through the hair on his scalp.

"yeah." he breathes out, seemingly falling asleep. he must be exhausted, all of that pent-up emotion he had been carrying for weeks.

tenderly, he grabs your wrists, stopping you from continuing.

"hm?" you ask, "you want me to stop?"

with no words, he wraps your hands around his neck, bringing his body closer to yours.

the kiss he presses on you is like a feather, the nerves in your lips tickling with every movement he makes with his own. your hands are still covered in lathered shampoo, slipping on his back when you try to deepen the kiss and find something to latch yourself onto. he senses your desperation to hold him, pushing his body closer to yours as your lips meld with his.

one of his hands finds it's way down your back, running down the slope of your hips to settle at the base of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh. you moan into the kiss opening your mouth a bit more.

to your surprise, he stops, looking down for a moment. he mumbles something, you can't make it out.

"huh?" you say, eyes on him.

"i said i love you."

the thump in your chest nearly makes you choke. this is the first time he's said this to you. tears form in your eyes, completely over whelmed by his confession.

"i love you." he breathes out again.

his following kisses are now more needy but still soft. the confession has you almost drunk, your mind lightheaded from the feeling.

nothing about this is fast, not with the way his hand lifts your leg to rest on his hip, kissing every part of your neck and shoulders. this intimacy has you feeling vulnerable. everything from your past tells you to run, but you don't want to. not this time.

he let's out a grunt, bumping you upwards to wrap your legs around his waist, gently settling you on the shower ledge. he doesn't even break the kiss, not even for a second. not wanting to ruin this.

you can feel him against you. he grows harder with every kiss and the motions of your bodies sliding together under the water.

when he pulls back, he doesn't ask for permission for what's about to happen. he knows you want this as much as he does. your arms sit loosely on his shoulders as he breaks contact, only parting to bend and slide your soaked underwear to the ground.

kisses are all over your legs, slow and lazy in their wake. eventually, he makes his way to your jaw, his hands pulling you flush against him, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist once again. you pull him closer, hands securing themselves around his shoulders as you press your face into his neck. you feel him nudging at your folds. his cock pushes its way past with no hand needed guidance.

you have to say it back, let him know this is his home, that you're safe before it's too late.

"i love you too."

the fullness surprises you. your strangled moans echoes off the shower walls, and he's deeper than usual. so much slower, like he's taking his time wanting to feel all of you. tingles of pleasure vibrate in your cunt with every time he slowly pulls out and fucks back into you at the same pace.

"really?" he questions after minute, almost stuttering, his hips lazily moving against you.

this isn't just sex. this was a full mind and body experience. you'd never reached this type of height before, completely engulfed with what's happening. it's like you're completely separated from yourself, your mind not comprehending things how it usually would. almost like hot flashes of bliss, you can almost visualise it.

"really."

the more he thrusts the more his breathes become laboured, yours along with his. his palms find their way to your cheeks to plant open mouthed kisses, hands gripping into you as if you're going to disappear.

"don't leave me." he mumbles, mouth open against yours.

you shake your head, your fingers now gripping into the base of his hair.

a frown paints across his face, his eyes staring into your own. they're still red, but they're filled with so much emotion. his previous sorrow ridden eyes are now beaming at you, enjoying seeing you come apart as his thrusts become faster.

"it's okay." you coo between groans, bringing his lips to hover at yours. "it's okay, stay with me, i'm here."

the grip he has on you gets harder. it's like you're giving him permission, permission to use every part of you for his own will. you can tell he's about to cum, hips stuttering and lips sitting just on the edge of your cheek.

the thrusts begin to lack rhythm; his grunts and moans are low, sounds of the running water still bouncing off the stall. so you let him fill you, his white painting your walls as he reaches his peak.

nothing in him wants to let you go, his grip on you doesn't relent. you let him do whatever he needs, even if you stay like this forever, you wouldn't have minded.

his head eventually buries itself into your neck, breath heavy and warm on you. you hear a small whimper, he's trying to hide it into your neck.

"c'mon, lets go to bed."

-

it's okay that lee know didn't tell you what was wrong, he'd tell you eventually and when he was ready. all he needed to know that you were there for him and that it was okay to be vulnerable with you. not all was lost, he was your maze, your beautiful confused labyrinth. you didn't need a map, knowing he would guide you eventually.

but until that time comes, you're happy being just what he needs.

#lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho x f reader #lee know #minho #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids #skz fic #myfic #WAH EMOTIONAL SEX HNGGGG #angst hours be like #i feel like i rushed the last bit but ): ok #skz smut #skz #prompt

[dailyoyo]

Non Exhaustive list of claims me and pseud havemade about yoyo. do we even believe all of these things in our headcanons? Good quaestion

yoyo once ran a "cringe art" blog very briefly but all he put on it was his own childhood art, without specifying it was his?

yoyo has a bucket list which includes things like "convince a straight person they're actually closeted gay" and "commit perjury"

yoyo likes to follow tutorials its enriching for him

yoyo has his own pirate radio station that roboy helps him run under the moniker of "Undergraduate C". he plays nothing but meme shit and stuff that is straight up unlistenable

yoyo thinks he is a hollow shell of a person with masks upon masks where an identity should be

yoyo, if asked if he thinks people can be born evil, will answer "lol yeah, because i was!" it's hard to say if he's being ironic or not

yoyo would die if he went to the house on ash tree lane because he would do goofy tricks in the hallway and grind down the spiral staircase only to fall off and careen into the abyss

paradox!yoyo is shorter than yoyo's official canon height because it's disturbing for yoyo to only be an inch smaller than me

yoyo just gets real scared when he smokes weed. but this doesnt stop him?

yoyo is a prolific trollfic author with unreadable writings under dozens of pseudonyms for dozens of fandoms

yoyo had a brief stint as a member of poison jam under a different name and identity but he got booted out for consistently ruining movie night with his intentionally frustrating mockbuster choices

yoyo has attempted to join every single gang in tokyo-to and the ggs were his last pick

yoyo eventually picks up it/its pronouns in a mental illness kind of way

yoyo is worse at video games than pots is

yoyo would be really good at among us except everyone just automatically votes him imposter by default so he cant even play properly

yoyo regrets nothing

paradox!yoyo, if confronted with an alternate universe version of himself, would immediately tell them to kill themself

yoyo would honestly probably be a lot less fucked in the head once he's PAST THE DIRE AGE OF SIXTEEN YEARS OLD

yoyo has like one of those bootleg-ass 52-in-one fake game consoles. bastion of his childhood

yoyo often gets mistaken for being younger than he is and this is something he actively weaponizes

yoyo makes up a new backstory every time you ask where he's from

yoyo accepted at the tender age of 12 that he does not have a future and so he should just fuck around as much as possible since hes like doomed anyway

yoyo's hoodie is actually embroidered, which he did himself by hand

yoyo has a lot of really strong feelings about art in all its myriad of forms but good luck getting him to talk about it genuinely instead of saying some dumb bullshit

yoyo made a lot of jokes about himself being super suspicious and Totally Not A Rival Gang Spy Who's Gonna Betray The GGs when he joined because he thought it was funny. the only reason he was allowed to be in the gang at all despite this is because he made such a poor showing trying to prove himself to corn gum and roboy that they were internally like "if we turn him away i think he's going to straight up die out there."

#mod noname #long post #Fuck it i don't care im maintagging thsi. who give a shit #jet set radio #we've said so many fucking things about this character. and maybe some of them are even true #honestly actually a LOT of these are true or at least are Strongly Plausible But We Didn't Decide For Sure in our hcs #i should probably put this in the vreepypasta tag for some of these #vreepypasta #suicide bait ment #i want so badly to convey to you people what happens in my head when i look at this character. whadda hell #noname's paradoxposting

[luz-noceda-for-realsies]

M'kay so every toh fan is currently talking about how it's been a year since Hollow Mind and how Hollow Mind was such a fantastic episode because it was and it was so good for so many reasons, but I wanna talk about how it's been a year since Reaching Out which is my favorite episode and I've just gotta ramble.

M'kay so first off, the writing. Oh my god, the writing is brilliant. The way they delivered the important scenes in the episode with such maturity, and the way that they even added jokes into the episode. Not a lot, but that's for obvious reasons. And none of the jokes were about Luz's dad. None of them were about her grief. None of them were about her bottling up her feelings about her dad and his passing, and how she isn't able to spend it with her mom this year which is probably the only way she's been able to cope with his death. It's really hard to make an episode about a mature topic with jokes in it without making the jokes seem inappropriate or somehow joking about the topic, but toh did it. I can't say I'm surprised tbh. Also the way it showed how Luz is dealing with the grief vs. her mom dealing with it. Her mom is sad, but calm. Luz is upset and emotional, and just straight up avoids the topic, which is SO realistic. No super dark and dramatic moments, but moments that rip your heart out nonetheless. Also the way Amity deals with it. She's upset at Luz for lying to her, which is fair, but after hearing about *why* Luz lied, Amity isn't mad anymore. She understands now and helps Luz deal with it the best they could. Amity doesn't even bring it up again, respecting how Luz needed a moment to talk about herself and how Luz already apologized. Also the way we get so much family content between the Clawthornes and the Blights is so nice.

Next off I love how they handled Amity dealing with her dad. Amity didn't forgive him right away. She didn't accept his hug but she did accept him wanting to try again and be a better father (and I love how he does become such a good dad to all of his kids it's so nice they all deserve it.) Alador admits his mistakes, he admits that he needs to do better, and if that isn't beautiful- Also, while he did admit he was in the wrong, Amity did not forgive her father. And tbh, he didn't deserve forgiveness, atleast not right away. Amity and her siblings had been neglected by him their whole lives, and although the main focus was on Amity, I believe the twins also needed time to forgive, and see if he would actually change and be a good dad.

Speaking of the twins, they both had a good amount of growth too. Edric was the main focus out of the two of them, sure, but Emira also had some growth. Both of them discovered other types of magic they were interested in (on their own, might I add) and later on joined those tracks as well. Also they were both such loving siblings this episode, with both of them supporting, protecting, and taking care of their little sister, even tho Amity was annoyed that they were there in the beginning. I love how they have such realistic teenager looks as well, with leg hair and acne and everything. And them also being accepted into the Bad Girl coven as well was the icing on the cake. I swear they went from being annoying older siblings constantly messing and teasing their sister to being her best friends and being super supportive. We love to see it tbh.

And finally, I like how this episode finally addressed why Luz didn't have her dad in her life, which I know for a fact the fandom has been wondering since season 1. But I fr thought that Camilla and Manny just divorced or something, not that Manny straight up died. Another thing I love, even tho it's mentioned in Thanks To Them, is how Manny was the reason Luz got into The Good Witch Azura, which ended up not only leading her into the Boiling Isles, but also letting her officially meet Eda, connecting with Amity and them becoming friends (and eventually girlfriends), and basically shaping her personality. So, in a way, Luz's dad is partially the reason she discovered the Boiling Isles.

One more thing I really like is how we not only got some cute Lumity content, but we also saw them hit a pivotal point in their relationship; their first fight. Obviously, it wasn't fun to see them fight, but the way they handled it was so mature and very nice, honestly. Amity being understandably upset with Luz for lying to her and getting her in trouble with Alador. Instead of blowing up, Amity goes off on her own to cool down. Luz then joins her later and Amity asks Luz why she lied. Not in an angry kind of way, but she was still upset and deserved to know the reason. She was asking in a concerned way, as she knew that Luz was having a rough day and that could've been why she was acting like that. Luz admitting that what she did was wrong, and shouldn't be excused, even though she was dealing with stuff and her mind was all over the place. It's understandable why Luz lied, and she isn't a bad person for lying to Amity, but she still (very unintentionally) hurt Amity. After Amity learned what was going on, like I said earlier, she immediately dropped the subject in respect for Luz. Luz had already apologized anyways, so there was no point to bring it up again. Then Amity tells Luz that she'll do something with her here to honor her dad, so that Luz feels better. Then later, Amity keeps her promise and helps Luz send off some flowers. The way the two of them handled their first fight was so mature, and honestly healthier than some adults I've seen irl. How fictional teenage girlfriends can handle a conflict better than some adults, idk. But anyways.

Gosh this episode was so good. It lives rent free in my head. And the fact that Dana put some of her own life into Luz just made this episode sting just a little bit more. I related to Luz a lot before this episode, but after it, GOD I related to her hard. Anyways, that was just me rambling, thanks for reading this long mess if you did.

#anyone who doesnt like this episode is lame/hj #do i love this episode so much because im a Luz kinnie? mayhaps #the owl house #toh #reaching out toh #luz noceda #amity blight #edric blight #emira blight #alador blight

[animeloverskylarmoon]

Kenpachi Zaraki (Bleach) Chapter 6

"(Y/N)-chan we have to keep running!”

“Tarou I-I can’t..” You whimper.

Your feet were bruised and beaten. He wasn't any better. You were exhausted and hungry.

“Just leave me behind.” You sobbed.

Growing up here was tough. You truly thought that as you got older you would be stronger. Both of you had promised to join the squad barracks as soul reapers. The hope was to lead a life that was more useful.

Tarou kneeled, giving you a gentle smile. You could hear the screams of the hollow in the distance, and you flinched. He took your hands.

“I’m not going to leave you, because becoming reapers wasn’t the only promise I made.” He lifted you into his arms as he guided you to a covered area, and when he tucked you in the bark of a broken off tree, you were confused.

“T-Tarou..?”

He just grinned.

“I’m going to become a strong reaper, a captain. Then the both of us are going to get married and live happily ever after.” You blushed at the statement, and he leaned forward, leaving a kiss on the top of your head. When he pulled away, your tears came streaming down.

“I’ll definitely make you fall for me and make you my bride. “

He stood, and you reached out, but he was already running off in the direction of the hollow.

“Ta..rou..TARAOU!!!!”

Your eyes fix on the stone before you, the scribble of words written on it.

Tarou (L/N).

He’d died so young.

“I’m sorry we never got that happy ending. I wish I could have given you more than just my last name. You deserved so much more.”

You’d managed to crawl out of the forest. When the reapers finally showed up, it was too late. All you could see was the blood that covered his body. It hurt. More than you wanted to accept.

That was probably the moment that you decided that fighting for others was a waste of time. He’d given up his life for you. Deprived himself of a future over a dream he never had a chance to achieve. Coming here used to bring you nothing but pain.

But everything was different now.

You are different now.

“I met someone, Tarou. You would like him. He’s a bit of a loose canon. Kind of like you were when we were kids. He’s really bad at focusing on anything that isn’t related to fighting. But he has someone that he cares about more than his own life. Someone he lives to protect. Kind of like how you always did for me. I guess hearing me gush over another guy would make you a little jealous huh.” You laugh, rubbing your neck.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m still a bit oblivious.”

The wind tossed your robes.

“(Y/N)-san?”

The voice in the background catches you by surprise.

“Hanataro?”

He’s holding a bouquet of flowers and his eyes moved to the grave stone.

“You knew Tarou-san?”

You’re shocked that he does.

“W-We grew up together.” You explain.

“I had no idea. Tarou-kun protected me a lot when we were in Rukongai. I always thought it was because we looked so similar. “

The resemblance was prominent. It’s possible they could have been brothers and just never knew. You were all orphans after all.

It sort of makes sense now.

Hanataro places the flowers down.

“I really looked up to him. A part of me always wanted to be like him.” You look over at Hanataro.

“You are just like him.He wasn’t very strong either. “

Your words catch his attention.

“Despite his limits, he used every breath in his body to protect me. Down to the very end. I guess that’s why somewhere along the way I stopped caring. “

Hantaro listens attentively.

“I used to be hopeful and full of belief in the cause, but when I lost him I lost that. Reapers that I knew in those times weren’t all good. There were some really cruel ones that took advantage of their power. They didn’t protect us like they said they would. At some point I..I became just like them.” You pressed a hand to your face.

“He would probably hate who I turned out to be.”

You were disappointed in yourself.

“I don’t believe that. I think he would be proud that you figured out how to protect again. “

Hanataro’s words make you look up.

“You lost someone special, it’s natural that you would feel hurt and lose hope. But despite what you believe in, both times you thought I was in danger you threw yourself in front of it to save me. You’re a hero. “

His smile is warm, and you can’t help but return it. You grab him by the shoulder ruffling his hair.

“You really are just like him, you softie.”

“(Y/N)-chan stop it, you're messing up my hair!!”

It was nice hearing those words.

~

After the visit, you walk back with Hanataro feeling refreshed. You only slow down when the familiar head of green hair pops out.

“There you are Hanataro! I was worried.” She runs in giving him a hug.”

“I’m fine Fuka-chan.”

Somehow the moment reminds you of the way you always clung to Tarou.

When her eyes turn to you, she’s glaring at you.

“D-Do you have a crush on Hana-kun!! I’m not going to give him up to anyone!!”

Hanataro panics, cheeks flushed.

“F-Fuka-chan w-what are you saying!!”

“I don't have a crush on him.” You state.

“Then why are you always around him! You must have feelings for him.”

Your eyes drift over his form, and the words he spoke that day to protect his friend seem to run through your head.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It was admirable.

“He reminds me of someone that I used to know. Someone I cared about. Family.”

The sadness reflected shocks her. Fuka takes a step forward, no longer on the defensive. She bows

“P-Please continue to protect him!”

You aren’t fully sure, but it feels like she realizes it. When she straightens there’s a sense of understanding in her eyes. Like she knows what you’ve been through. It’s weird and comforting in a sense.

“I’ll do my best.”

#Kenpachi Zaraki #Yachiru Kusajishi #funny #Hanataro Yamada #lostlove #care #pain #loss #kenpachi x reader #past #bleach #soul society #love

[intubatedangel]

Code Red : Chapter 3

Between food comas, hangovers and family visits I managed to find some time for writing. Enjoy :)

Story Index  

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

* * *

Anna could feel the tears trickling down her cheeks. Carl was here. He came. But it was too late. She could feel herself slipping away. Darkness was tickling the edges of her vision, like some terrifying reversed halo. The sudden spike of pain when he pressed their joined hands over her wounds had brought a sharp clarity for a moment, that rapidly dwindled. Carl was looking towards the stairs, his mouth moving. He was shouting, but she couldn't decipher his words, her mind too foggy. He looked back down at her. He was talking again, to her. She forced herself to focus again. It was getting harder each time.

"...on its way. You hear me baby, more help is coming. You just need to stay awake." He begged her, hand cupping her cheek, fingers cradling her jaw while his thumb gently stroked the tears from one eye.

Anna tried to shake her head, but she was too weak. "Tired." She whined, surprised at how weak her voice sounded. Not tired. Dying. Part of her mind whispered. Who knew your own thoughts could sound distant?

"I know. I know baby, but you have to stay awake. Can you do that for me?" Carl had leaned closer; his face was the only thing her enclosing vision could see now. She gave a tiny nod. Without a hand on her cheek, he wouldn't have been able to tell. He smiled at her, trying to be reassuring. Even in her current state, Anna could see the fear behind it. "That's it." He told her, giving her hand a soft squeeze that she could barely feel. Her heart was becoming an insignificant accompaniment in her ears. Taptaptaptaptap. With the occasional failed beat, a random skip. Taptap...tapap...taptap...ap...taptap....tapa...pap....taptaptap.

"C...old." She sighed out.

"I know. I know." Carl repeated, glancing down her body and beyond. He was looking at all the blood that she'd lost. He grimaced, his own eyes sparkling with tears. He shook his head, looking back her. "We're going to make you feel warm really soon Anna. I promise."

Anna sobbed, or at least tried to. It was like a hitch in her breathing. She was going to die in his arms. Better than alone. One part of her mind said. But it'll hurt him so much. Another replied, before both faded away into silence. She looked at him, taking in his face, doing everything she could to focus on every little detail as the shrinking darkness threatened to swallow her whole.

"S...Sorry." She gasped out.

She felt her body attempt to replace the air in her lungs.

It failed.

* * *

Carl had seen her eyes twitching and shifting while still gazing up at him. He knew she was taking what might be her last look at him.

"S...Sorry." She said, her voice so quiet and hollow.

Carl swallowed a sob, gently shaking her head. "Don't be sorry. Please don't be sorry." He pleaded with her. Her eyes were losing focus and he realised her chest was still. "No. No. No. Stay with me Anna!" He shouted at her. His fingers bent around, pressing against her neck, looking for her carotid pulse.

It was there. But it was so weak. A tremulous fluttering. Pease keep going. He had to do something. If she was too weak to breath, he would have to take over.

He shifted to a better angle. He couldn't take his hand off her wounds. He would have to improvise. He used his other hand, the one cradling her head, to tilt her head back and open her airway wide. He leaned over, bending in half as her head still rested on his leg. He couldn't pinch her nose, so instead he opened his mouth wide, sealing over her blueing lips off centre, to block her nose as much as possible. Her lips were cold enough to leech the heat from his own.

He blew the breath into her.

They'd done this before, plenty of times while indulging in their shared fantasies. This wasn't a fantasy though. He'd become so used to the slight moment of resistance before she accepted the breath, that when he forced his breath into her and her lungs expanded readily, without a reflexive rejection, that he was surprised. And terrified. She really was slipping away from him.

"Come on!" He shouted upwards in frustration. He needed, she needed, more help to arrive.

Anna let out a whimper as the breath eased out of her lungs, her eyes seeming to brighten.

"It's ok. It's ok baby." He told her, before taking a deep breath and repeating the life-giving kiss, making her lungs swell with his air again. He could feel her lips twitching beneath his own.

He broke the seal, lifting his head, looking down at her. She was clearly fighting to focus her eyes on him. Her mouth was moving, too weak to make sounds.

But it was words.

Three words.

The same three words over and over.

I love you.

Something splashed on her cheek and Carl realised his own tears were flowing freely now.

"I love you too Anna." His voice cracked. "I love you."

Her eyes were fading again. Carl took a deep breath, shaking his head softly.

"No." His voice steadied. "I'm not letting you go!"

He leaned in, forcing another breath into her, giving her his air to keep her with him.

A mechanical rattling began to emanate from the elevator shaft.

* * *

What was left of Anna consciousness was trapped in her own mind, on the cusp of unravelling entirely. She was dimly aware of Carl giving her more breaths, her body feeling almost disconnected now. She suspected it wouldn't be long before she felt nothing at all. Those first breaths had let her tell him though. Her last words would be a declaration of love. She took some measure of solace from that.

Carl kept on breathing for her, willing the elevator to move faster, to get the others here. He reached with his fingers again, relieved that he could still feel that faint pulse in her neck. He took another glance at her face as he raised his head to inhale. Her eyes were half-lidded, staring at the ceiling without focus. He was forcing another breath into her lungs, feeling her chest rise as it brought her belly with it, when the rumbling of the elevator stopped. A few moments later, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.

Trish led the newcomers out of the elevator, the drop kit slung over her shoulder. Following her and guiding the gurney were Jessica and Sarah, along with, surprisingly, the paramedic Lucy and Officer Jones. Trish already knew what they would find, but the others seemed to stumble in unison as they saw the scene on the landing. Anna laid there utterly lifeless, her scrubs consumed by a black stain, connected to the expanse of crimson on the floor beside her. Another pool closer to the stairs, connected by the streak she'd left as she'd tried to drag herself towards the elevator the team had just left. The thump as Trish dropped the drop kit dragged them back to the moment.

"Two penetrating wounds to the abdomen, four-inch blade." Carl's voice, through considerable effort, was steady. He looked directly at Jones and nodded back to the stairs where he had seen the knife. "She's lost at least two litres of blood. Pulse is rapid and thready. She lost consciousness and stopped making respiratory effort 90 seconds ago." He told them as the nurses and paramedic spread around Anna's body, Trish unzipping the drop kit. "Sarah, I need you to bag her. Trish, get a gauze pad and be ready to put pressure on these wounds. Jessica we need a line in ASAP. Lucy, can you lower the gurney, we need to move her downstairs and get the rapid infuser going immediately. Hand me some shears."

Trish passed out the ambu bag, IV kit and tore open a gauze packet. Jessica handed over a set of safety shears from her front pocket. Sarah knelt by Anna's head, taking the ambu bag and ripping it out of its sterile packaging. She connected the mask and pressed it over Anna's mouth and nose, squeezing the bulb. She gave two breaths before pulling the drop kit closer, reaching in to take out a small oxygen cylinder.

Carl, one hand still pressed over Anna's belly, cut awkwardly down the centre of Anna's scrubs and the once white undershirt beneath. He cast open the half his hand wasn't over, waiting for Trish to be ready with the gauze. Her hands were trembling. Carl bit back on his frustration. He was barely holding it together himself, seeing the skin of Anna's chest and abdomen, terrifyingly pale under the red stains. When Trish finally gave him a nod he pulled away, taking his coat off the wound and spreading the other half of Anna's clothing in a single motion. He unlinked his fingers from Anna's limp digits, giving her hand a squeeze as he dropped the coat that dripped with her blood.

Trish pressed the gauze to Anna's belly with both hands, while Carl shuffled behind her and grabbed the basic monitor from the drop kit. He unravelled the leads, quickly dotting them around Anna's chest, then took the pulse oximeter and clipped it onto her finger. He watched the screen as the readings came in, his head dropping when he saw the disparity between the ecg and the pulse ox. Anna's heart was trying to beat nearly three times a second. It was only sending a pulse through her body every other attempt.

He looked up, seeing that Jessica had managed to get IV access in one of Anna's arms. "Get that blood in, she's barely perfusing." He commanded.

They'd done all this in a short time. Jones was only just coming back up the stairs, Kevin's knife sealed in an evidence bag. Carl looked around the team, they had done everything they could up here. He waved Lucy to move the gurney closer. "Let's get ready to move her."

* * *

Anna knew help must have arrived. She couldn't place any sensation specifically, but there were enough of them that there must have been at least two more people other than Carl. Slowly she felt herself coming back together. Between the consistent oxygenation and the trickle of blood into her body she regained some awareness.

She felt hands all over her, lifting her into the air before dropping her roughly onto something. A gurney. She thought.

She began to see something. It wasn't clear, just light and shadow, but it was better than the darkness. Her eyes must have fluttered because sounds too were coming back.

"It's ok Anna, I'm just helping you breath." Whoever was above her said. The words didn't actually make sense to Anna, but she was able to recognise they were words.

The lights shifted, changing in colour tone. It seemed more enclosed too. The elevator.

For a moment she wondered if perhaps she was going to make it after all.

Then she became aware of her heart beating in her ears.

Tap...Ta...ap...Tap...Ta...Tap...ap.

It was struggling. It had been too much.

Tap..Ta.................................Tap..............................

.

.

.

Silence.

.

.

.

She thought she heard an alarm.

It cut off as the darkness slammed in.

#Anna Swift #Medical Drama #Cpr #defib #dark cardiophilia #resus writing

[risingscorchingsuns]

——————————————————————

Unconventional

its late and i needed to write something. here’s a small warmup unrefined thingy, just to put some words out somewhere, so i don’t go bonkers. its a first draft with almost zero editing, it is very very messy and not very good, but i just needed to make something. i hope you enjoy regardless 💜🪲

———————————————————————

It was a cold spring morning, and as usual, Hikaru Eritora was in a tree.

Whenever he needed to think, or he couldn’t sleep, or he just felt like he needed to go somewhere, Hikaru would find the nearest tree, scale it, and nestle himself among the branches. It was a way for him to feel grounded, for him to feel real.

He’s been having a hard time with that lately.

Ever since Hikaru had started training with the Flame Hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku, his life had gotten so much more complicated. They were master and apprentice, teacher and student. But they were also friends, closer all the time. And lately, Hikaru hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the flame-haired swordsman. More than usual… something about Kyojuro had been making Hikaru’s heart race, something that just got him all jumpy. He can’t get the man out of his head, with his molten golden eyes, his broad, strong frame, his warm, infectious laugh…

Frankly, these feelings were making Hikaru really fucking nervous.

He wasn’t totally sure what to make of these feelings. He’d never had a crush before, but Hikaru had read about them, in stories and books over the years. He was no master, but he was pretty sure that whatever that meant, he was probably developing a crush on the Flame Hashira. Which, obviously, was unacceptable. There were so many reasons why it wouldn’t work, and a million more why it shouldn’t. Why he shouldn’t even try, why it would only complicate everything.

Besides, a small part of Hikaru whispers. It’s not like he’d ever possibly return the sentiment. Not for someone like you.

Hikaru felt a small, familiar pang in his chest at the thought, rearranging himself in the branches of the oak. It was probably… well, it was probably true.

Ever since Hikaru had left the woods and joined the Corps, he’d found it increasingly obvious that he was an outsider. He’d never interacted with people his age before, and he hadn’t interacted with much of anyone at all during his time in the Sumitomo Forest. He was… different. He stuck out, and the other Slayers noticed.

It didn’t help that Hikaru was a boy, and very much didn’t sound or look like one. He wanted so badly for the other male Slayers to include him, to give him that sense of brotherhood, of belonging. He craved it, wanted somewhere to belong, something to make him feel the way he knew he was inside.

But no matter what he did, Hikaru just didn’t seem to fit. He never quite belonged in any group, never quite found his own place. No matter how much Hikaru tried, he was simply… unconventional. Too unconventional for those around him. He didn’t fit… maybe he was never meant to.

He’d made his peace with his solitude, for the most part. He knew he didn’t have a choice, anyway. Pretending to be something he wasn’t just wasn’t in the cards for Hikaru. It wasn’t what Hiroki taught him. He was going to live authentically, he was going to be himself. Not doing so simply wasn’t an option. This feeling of emptiness, this ache in his chest… it was simply the price Hikaru had to pay to be himself. Just the cost of authenticity.

But the isolation, and the sheer solitude of being the only one like Hikaru… it made the poor boy ache.

And now, the matter of Kyojuro.

Hikaru was okay with being alone. He always had been, and he had mostly accepted that he always would be. But for some damn reason, when he thought about Kyojuro looking at him the same way the other Slayers did when they thought he couldn’t see… the thought made him want to rip the bark off of the tree he was sitting in with his bare hands. It made him feel hollow.

No, he decided, it’s not a crush. I do not have a crush on the Flame Hashira. I admire him as a warrior, and respect him as a friend. He’s a brilliant man, who deserves a brilliant partner. Someone put together, someone strong, someone… conventional.

Not someone like me. It’s safer this way, if I say it’s not a crush. He could never want someone like me. There’s just… no way. I’m simply… too much. It’s better like this, better to nip this in the bud.

It’s not a crush. It’s just admiration. It’s not a crush.

It’s safer not to get my hopes up.

Maybe if he just kept saying it, maybe it’d be true.

#hikaru eritora #leon writes #demon slayer oc #demon slayer #kny oc #oc x canon #mini fic #ficlet #drabble

[daedalusdavinci]

"i want to deserve you. I'm trying to deserve you" twobats

this one mightve gotten away from me a little. apparently i have a lot of thoughts about two face reforming. thanks for the ask!

send me a yearning ask!

Two Face woke up panting from a nightmare he couldn't remember, disoriented and terrified. Sitting upright was like fighting an uphill battle against Bruce's pile of blankets, which was about as heavy as a brick wall. However, the struggle gave him enough time to remember where he was, before he tried to reach for a gun that hadn't been there for years.

Next to him, Bruce grunted, grasping his pillow closer.

Two Face took a deep breath. The initial fear still clung to him, but he tried to think past it, remembering what his therapist had said about counting his senses.

Bruce's bedroom was almost pitch black, with only the faintest streaks of moonlight leaking in through the bottom of the curtains and the door. It was their bedroom now, really, but Two Face still had trouble thinking of it as anything other than Bruce's, no matter how many of his possessions filled the closet. The sheets were still warm in his hands, and he could feel Bruce's knee pushed against his thigh, hidden somewhere under the blankets. Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked softly, and Bruce's breathing was steady and slow next to him.

The fear faded. In its place, a strange kind of hollowness felt heavy around Two Face's heart.

Not wanting to wake Bruce up, or have his little crisis in this room that was supposed to be his, but felt like it'd only ever be Harvey's, Two Face swung his legs over the side of the bed. Grabbing his glasses and a robe from the wall, Two Face crept quietly out of the room, heading downstairs to the kitchen.

The kitchen, at least, had always felt like less of an intrusion. He had countless memories of sneaking in with Bruce when they were young to steal Alfred's cookies, or away from a party. The older memories softened the present, making it easier to accept.

Plus, the kitchen had coffee, and maybe cookies, if he was lucky.

Fortunately, Harvey came through. Alfred's old jar was getting low, but there were still enough cookies left for Two Face to sit on the counter and enjoy a quiet midnight snack. Bruce's kids were too old now for any impression he made to rub off on them, but it still felt freeing to let his manners slip a little in the dead of night.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he heard the stairs creak. He doubted it was even a half an hour. Bruce's hair stuck up in every direction, his expression like that of the walking dead as he shuffled into the room. He hadn't even bothered to tie his own robe, and his shirt still rode up on his hip. He joined Two Face at the counter wordlessly, stepping between his thighs and tipping bonelessly into him.

Even with the strange feeling pushing in on Two Face's heart, he felt a wave of fondness as he opened his arms for Bruce. Even if Bruce wasn't his, even if he felt like an interloper in Harvey's life, it was hard to think of pushing Bruce away when he was so sleepy and clingy- or at least, as clingy as Bruce ever got. He set his coffee down and combed his fingers through Bruce's hair, dragging his nails along Bruce's scalp, the way he liked most. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"S'fine," Bruce mumbled. His lips found Two Face's collarbone, his arms snaking around Two Face's waist. "Something wrong?"

When he was tired enough, Two Face could almost imagine that he heard Matches's accent in Bruce's voice. It had been years now, since Harvey had finally opened up those memories to him, but sometimes he thought a part of him would still never be past it. It felt like just another way that he didn't fit into this.

He sighed, leaning back on one hand. "I'm not Harvey."

Bruce paused, absorbing that information. But he didn't pull away. He never did. "The question still stands."

Two Face shut his eyes. He wasn't sure if he would've preferred it if Bruce did pull away. Maybe it would've been easier if Bruce didn't love him, and if it was just Harvey. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so confused all the time.

But Bruce stayed, his fingers dragging slow circles along Two Face's back.

Two Face pressed his face against Bruce's hair, curling back around him as he moved his arm around his shoulders. It took a minute to find the words, to form them on his tongue and push them out into the space between them. "I want to deserve you. I'm trying to deserve you."

Bruce's hold on him tightened. His palms dragged over Two Face's back, his lips pressing into Two Face's neck. "You do. You already do."

#twobats #bruharvey #two face #harvey dent #bruce wayne #batman #batman fanfiction #my fics #tumblr drabbles #asks

[polyhexian]

Finale thoughts:

pacing up until luz's death was acceptable, fine, no problems really

pacing really fell apart toward the end

why were amity hunter gus and willow even in their own subplot if that subplot was so minimized it was almost entirely irrelevent? why couldnt they be there for the big boss battle and to see luz's death? :(

wow. all luz's friends and camila really became completely irrelevant LOL. raine got more than hunter.

no stab :( i still think they wanted it but. rip

wow family really... got dropped this time. im surprised that for all the wonderful eda and king and luz togetherness... we never had luz call eda mom or eda use the word daughter, and luz never called king her brother. or hunter. its so built up that hunter and luz are belos and caleb parallels and like. siblings as hell. im... surprised that was completely dropped

post canon rejected sorry

waffles can stay

no, i mean. theres a lot of things in the timeskip i do like but. a loooot i do not care for.

luz moved back home and finished human school? why? i really thought we were building up to camila letting her go, that she loves luz more than she loves having her, that the same way vee doesnt belong in the boiling isles anymore luz no longer belongs in the human realm. uh. guess... not.

morningmark really hit it on the nose with that darius and hunter meeting comic huh

love that darius points out his shirt and gets the boy infodumping and also love the little alador scene but also

seriously darius cannot have custody

i am.... SHOCKED he did not get adopted as a noceda. i am legitimately shocked i was 100% that was a forgone conclusion

shocked and disappointed actually. sorry yall, fully rejected im just going to have to ignore this

damn hunter got tall lmfao

every single hairstyle after thanks to them has been so bad oh my god. give willow her hair back. cut hunters fucking hair again. GIVE EMIRA BACK HER HAIRRRRR.

i like that the portal is in the center of town

love the integration of nature and native boiling isles culture into civilization and modern culture. all the little titan imagery weaved into clothes, the big ol tree

i am still baffled and confused about humans and staff magic. luz's list of classes and the way she talks still seems to imply she cant do normal magic but. shes? she does magic. what? whats happening

what is going on with hunter. can he do magic? can he do spell circles? what?

lol owlbert allowed to exist again

not liliths raven i guess

do love her getting a raven harpy form last minute tho. did not need to be in the climax, just fine as a post canon reveal

they should not have done a timeskip. name one time a story has ever ended with a significant timeskip that has been satisfying. a timeskip of a few weeks or even a few months can work, aftermath, but a timeskip where development or major life events happen without the viewer? its never satisfying. it always leaves people a llittle hollow and frustrated. they should have just done her actual quinceañera after the defeat of belos and like. idk. a few weeks or a couple of months as our time skip instead of three-four years. dont like that at all.

im sorry what the fuck. the collector... left? we had a perfect excuse to depower him and let him stay and live among mortals and grow up. like i legitimately thought right before they said he left that eda was going to adopt him and he was going to join the family. im.... alright

im sorry. i dont like luz's titan magic form.

haha get fucked goop man

LOVE luz looking down at him with silent content

LOVE that it is boiling rain that begins to destroy him. it is the world itself, all of nature that ends up, he is rejected by the world he has invaded. and then he gets fucking stomped to death lmfao

also just like. fucking YES THANK YOU saying point blank to luz, no, killing the genocidal maniac does not in fact make you as bad as him. like. at all. thats ludicrous

luz's death scene was so fucking perfect, the scene itself was framed, scored and paced perfectly. i legitimately felt fucking sick watching it. i was full on nauseous. powerful and impactful. no matter how much i knew she was obviously not dead dead, it GOT me.

god please fix hunters hairrrrrrr

#toh spoilers

[kyofsonder]

Find the Word 1

I’ve been tagged by several people over the last… 3.5 weeks to find select sets of words in my WIPs, and this time I’m not combining them into a single post. That would be endless to scroll through. So I’ll start with a tag from @inkspellangel and find those words first. Thank you for the tag, for your patience while I was away from Tumblr, and for the chance to play this game!

My Words: hate, understand, bridge, against, people

I’ll Tag: @on-noon, @saltysupercomputer, @calicojackofficial, @midnight-and-his-melodiverse, @junypr-camus, and as always anyone else who wants to join in can use these words (or words from my other upcoming FtW posts) and say I tagged them!

Your Words: pretend, accept, offer, aware, hollow

I have a lot of backlog to get through, but I’ll still put the excerpts themselves under a cut as always. 

I found hate in my Danny Phantom fanfic “Lingering Scars”: 

"As much as I hate to say that you're ever right about anything..." he fakes a shudder, overplaying the movement just enough to earn him a classic Jazz Fenton eye roll, "I definitely would've kept quiet if you'd let me, you're not actually wrong there. I'm the type of guy who's bad at... not doing that. I don't know if it's good or bad that you made me talk, but now that we're digging into the really secret stuff... I have to do this right. There's a place where I can do that, but it's not here. If you can trust me long enough to go there, I'll tell you both what happened to my neck and some other stuff I tried to cover up. I'll show you why I won't disappear on you, or leave either of you alone." 

I found understand in my novel WIP “Apricots”:

Ian takes another long, deep breath. He's not angry now. He's not even annoyed, not really. He's... is there a word somewhere between determination to help someone you care about and resignation to sign yourself up for something you don't fully understand? His emotions are somewhere in that area, trying to settle into something more defined. Not unclear, but... imprecise. It's probably the best he can manage. 

I found bridge in the rough draft of my Given fanfic “Present Tense”:

The height of their hands shifts as they lean to look into his eyes. Disrupting the flow of time he's been watching. His vision is filled with silver instead. A kind of silver that should have its own separate word, as a color all its own. There are places where the silver itself seems slightly worn, seems grey or almost black. This is the bridge that goes there, to the place in their hands that holds time itself. This is how they pull everything into their grasp. Through this silver that isn't just silver. Through these eyes that aren't usually eyes. Looking at the world in a way Mafuyu would never think to try for himself. Still unable to speak, he nods thoughtfully.

I found against in my short story “Hidden Talent”:

After all, rather than emptiness within Vance himself, it's more like an awareness of all the empty spaces around him. He doesn't need to fill himself with something that's missing. He needs to do something about that awareness itself. Noticing the empty places in a room or a building or even a park, the areas that look blank or vacant. It's those blank spaces that are hungry for something to give them color or presence. They're fading away. They need something to anchor them, to bring them back, and he becomes so hyper-conscious of that need that it makes him hyper-conscious of his own presence, too. His head so full of thoughts, his chest so full of emotions, he ends up feeling like some kind of moving painting himself. Standing out against these spaces that have nothing. It gets under his skin every time, to the point he starts to feel sick with the infuriating need to balance the vibrant and the vacant. The bright and the blank. Give a little paint from the place that has too much and deposit it in places that don't have enough. Wash the excess layers of it off himself and reset. Recolor. Rebalance.

I found people in my Given fanfic “Present Tense”:

A Gibson Hollow-Body, Uenoyama-kun had said. It's been awhile now since he first heard the term, but it still rattles around in Mafuyu's head sometimes. As if his head, too, is hollow and he's desperate to fill it with words -- with the ideas and voices of other people. Maybe that's the right way to learn an instrument, or to have friends, or to be a lover. Maybe it's just a way to distract himself. Maybe it's a way of collecting things that someone else has said, until he can say something on his own. The way he does when he sings. The way he gathered so many of Ugetsu-san's words and his band mates' feelings to make his last song. He's not sure what he's actually trying to do, one way or the other; but he can feel the downward slope of this particular word as it settles into a more or less set position in these early morning thoughts. Hollow.

It took me a long time to get to this one, but I did find every single word on the list – the words against and people showing up so often they stopped looking like real words – and I had fun figuring out how to keep my excerpts short while also sharing what I want to share. Thank you again for the tag!

#writing #find the word #tag game #sonder stories #sonder snippets #this took so long #I have many more to post #most of them drafted out #I drafted them a month ago #then ran out of time #hit mild burnout #I'm better now #but I have so many to get through #I'll slowly post them all #then keep going with new ones

[frauleindermorgen]

“ Ah, Micaiah, I've been looking for you. ” Sweet memories of Micaiah's way to celebrate his birthday earlier this month floats through his head at the sight of her, though he does remind himself to tamp down any sense of anticipation his mind may be trying to stir up within him. He's been able to see her frequently these days, an opportunity afforded to them by their attending the Officer's Academy, but that isn't necessarily a luxury everyone's got to have including some close to her.

He can be mature about this, he tells himself, and give up a day with her in the interest of a group-wide happiness. Despite this, when he walks over to her, he does little to hide the sheer affection in his eyes, clearly pleased just to see her today at all.

“ Happy holidays, Micaiah. Have you heard? Edward's come to join in attending the Officer's Academy. I only found out very recently, myself. ”

Okay, so maybe that transition was a bit unnatural, but it's not as if talking has ever been Pelleas's forte to begin with, and it's not as if Micaiah hasn't known this for ages. He also had been rehearsing bringing that topic up over and over before he had found her, so he supposes he had been a bit eager to say it aloud at last so as to not keep it repeating within his head…

“ I've been trying to organize a little something for you all to meet up and talk over with, if you'd all like. Sorry, I know you all probably would've met up and chatted together without me involving myself unnecessarily, but I got carried away. Er, it'll probably make a bit more sense once I give you your gift. One moment. ”

And so the box he's been holding is then instead held out to her instead. Inside are countless hollowed out strawberries, piped in with a creamy cashew, coconut milk, lemon juice and vanilla mixture, and topped with a crushed walnut and dates crumb.

“ Your holiday gift from me to you. Well, for all of you, Edward, and Leonardo, actually, but I was hoping to help give you all the things you needed for an afternoon tea so you could all just focus on having a good time together instead of any prep work. It's been a while since you've all been together, so… ” He's meddling. He knows he is. But he knows how happy those two (as did all of the Dawn Brigade) made Micaiah, so…

…he wanted to help, if not to start repaying the Dawn Brigade for all they've done for him, then to make Micaiah happy.

“ I've given Leonardo and Edward their own portions already, so I can leave you to find them right away. ” Pelleas has no intention on intruding their little get-together, even if he was the one trying to organize it, but… “ Though, um… after you're done, if you have the free time and stamina still, would you like to take a walk in the mountains with me? We still haven't done that from your wishlist, and I heard there's a really nice view I'd like to take you to see… ”

What had Micaiah been doing last winter at Garreg Mach, sledding with Soren perhaps? An enjoyable memory to be sure, but this holiday season was turning out to be even better – and in no small part due to Pelleas himself.

“Yes, I have! I cannot tell you how happy I was when I heard. I believe he met up with Leonardo first, which is just so fitting – oh, but he’s in the Golden Deer it seems; from the little I know the House suits him very well.”

Micaiah is only too eager to regal Pelleas with her own thoughts on the boys of the Dawn Brigade. It’s so simple to share her thoughts with Pelleas now that Micaiah can hardly stop herself, perhaps one day she may even match the breadth of her lover’s speeches.

She is sure she will never quite be able to match him in heart though.

“You needn’t have done all that,” Micaiah says, accepting the box, “but I am very happy you did.” She’s insistent on that last part as Pelleas continues to speak, though she also cannot help her own curiosity at what Pelleas has prepared for all of them – peering into the box as soon as he hands it over.

So this was his holiday gift to them all? It was absolutely wonderful, and she tells him as much.

“This is amazing, and goodness, Pelleas – you told me you knew little in terms of  recipes but these all look amazing, you certainly have an eye for it. Perhaps I do not need to teach you anything about tea either?”

She’s teasing him of course – she wants to tell him everything, just as she wants to learn all about how he came to prepare all this. But there would be time for both later.

“Leonardo and Edward have portions too? You’ve truly given us a feast,” she laughs, eyes twinkling, and takes Pelleas's hand just as he tries to makes his escape. “Why not help me find them, first? I have the most distinct feeling you haven't even let them thank you yet and I can assure you they want to. Besides, it's only natural they should get used to seeing you around me more!" Hm. She supposes you were supposed to introduce your lovers to family, but again, something for later. She thinks Pelleas might catch fire right on the spot if she did something like that right now.

"Stay, just for a while," she asks, "and then I will be happy to take a midday stroll in the mountains with you. I'll try not to slow you down but it seems only fair I try each one of these pastries!"

#pirrhyc #;answered #((rolls around screams cries)) #((YOU REALLY DID HAVE A GAMBIT OF ASKS HUH N)) #((im so... :softsmile: dawn bwigade... also looking at this and the implication in eds ask that hes eaten most of the sandwiches #i think they will all have the best time. i wuv them. pelleas accept their thanks.))

[bohemianrequiem]

Yeehawgust Day 5: Vegas Lights

The lights of New Vegas follow Venus wherever she goes. 

It had once been a beacon, guiding her ever closer to her goal, calling out to her as she made camp for the night. When Venus would finally settle down onto a makeshift bedding of tanned gecko hide, it was the glow of the city that would be the last thing she saw before falling into a fitful slumber. 

In her dreams, she sees flashes of light and hears more than feels the gunshot that passes through her skull like a bolt of lightning. When she dies, the man in the checkered coat - Venus would come to learn his name was Benny - is always just out of sight. He stands enveloped in shadows, a smoking pistol in his hand. Despite his objections to killing someone without looking them in the eye, she never sees his face in her dreams. 

New Vegas lures her in with its promise of answers and rewards in equal measure, and like a fool she follows it. 

The lights are even brighter inside the city than they are on the horizon. They help to fill in that hollowed out part of herself that’s been empty ever since she miraculously awoke on Doc Mitchell’s surgery table. She doesn’t think it’s such a bad thing. 

And then she kills Benny. Venus chases him to the Legion’s Fort and shoots him with the same gun that he used to try and blow her brains out with. 

She’s never executed someone before. Never raised a gun against another person that’s been tied up and bound, never thought she’d be capable of doing something like that. And if Benny notices the slight tremble in her hand as she inspects the ornately decorated piece, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Don’t you want to close your eyes?” Venus asks, when she finally has him in her sights. 

“Nah, I’d rather see it coming.” He raises his chin, not in defiance, but acceptance. “Do it, baby. Make it clean.” 

She doesn’t ask him again. 

While Caesar is busy congratulating her on the magnificence of her kill, Venus is too preoccupied asking herself if maybe something didn’t get put back in the right place during her surgery. Was she always this cold blooded? This ruthless? And if not, then what’s changed? 

New Vegas lights flood her senses. 

When she leaves The Fort, she’s making a mental map of the area for later use. If her and Boone are going to clear this place out with just the two of them, they’re going to need every advantage they can get. 

Within a week, Yes Man is installed into the Lucky 38’s mainframe. Venus couldn’t bring herself to kill another defenseless man, so she locks him away inside his life support chamber. She likes to think she did the right thing this time, but even the hustle of New Vegas isn’t enough to drown out his cries for death in her ears. 

So, Venus leaves it behind. She tries distracting herself by joining a caravan bound for New Canaan, investigating bizarre radio signals around the Mojave, accepting an invitation to the Sierra Madre. Everywhere she goes, the old lights of New Vegas follow her and weave a tapestry so intricate it makes her want to pull her hair out. 

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” It’s past midnight and Venus is sitting in a booth in the cocktail lounge. She stares out into the night through the wraparound glass on this floor of the casino. 

She already knows how Arcade and Raul feel. They both support the idea of an independent New Vegas, free of the NCR and its lethargic weight bearing down on the people of the Mojave. Her other companions - Cass, Boone, Lily - support Venus herself, and that’s all she really needs. ED-E and Rex both just seemed happy that she thought to ask them at all. 

But none of them are here with her in the cocktail lounge at this ungodly hour. No, that honor belongs to Veronica. She takes the seat across from her, silently gliding into it as Venus watches her with heavy eyelids. 

“I think,” Veronica starts. “That you and I have helped a lot of people since we first started traveling together.” For once, Veronica isn’t wearing her power glove. She spreads her bare hands out on the table, as if smoothing the edges of a massive blueprint she’s envisioning. 

“I also think the reason you want to do this is because you care about people. You care so much that you just can’t stand watching others suffer.”

When Venus turns away from the darkened landscape, she sees the lights of New Vegas reflected in Veronica’s eyes. And for the first time in a long time, she feels like those lights can mean something good. Not just for her, but to others too. 

“So yeah, I do think you’re making the right choice with this whole independent Vegas thing.” She reaches across the table and rests a gentle hand on Venus’ forearm. “Question is, do you?” 

The question takes her back to another time, another place. A temple, stockpiled with nuclear warheads and soon to be overrun with enough Marked Men to devastate all of New Vegas. She hears the exhale of a rebreather, then a smooth voice speaking to her. He somehow has the nerve to sound at peace with himself despite everything he’s lost, everything he still stands to lose. 

“You have the strength to break nations - seen that for myself. The strength needed to build one too, perhaps.” 

Venus thinks of the people living in Freeside, the towns and roads throughout the Mojave in dire need of patrols to ward off Fiends and raiders. She thinks of how much work there is to do and how selfish she was for trying to deny the responsibility she’d created for herself. 

And she smiles, thinking of the glimmering beacon of hope that the lights of New Vegas could be for folks just living day to day. With that final thought, Venus lays a hand over Veronica’s. 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

#fallout new vegas #fallout #yeehawgust 2022 #my writing #crossposted to ao3 #Courier oc is named Venus!

[prometheusinitiative]

Ridley | MM Trial | Prowl Great Cain; ATTN: Ivette

Ridley doesn’t have much to say. She’s fortunate to be there to begin with and she’s painfully aware of that. Most of the trial is spent out of sight and out of mind, occasionally pacing by herself as she attempts to think herself through what’s immediately unfolded. She’s not cut out for this.  

Hostility immediately flares at the end of the ongoing conversation, and Ridley’s entire body feels hot. 

She bites back whatever hateful remark comes to mind first, a subtle curl of her upper lip the only thing that indicates what she’s feeling. Everything is easily masked behind hollow exhaustion and the numb chill of each wave of grief lapping against her ankles. She remains silent. She’s still thinking.

Good is the first thing that comes to mind. She doesn’t mean that, though. That's not right. 

Michiya understands wanting the world to end. They talked about it before—good fucking riddance and everything.

She’s on her own to work her way through this one. Ridley thinks she knows what Royce's opinion would be after a revelation like that. Easy to handwave and reprioritize things so long as his own goals were met in the end... And they were. Against all odds, she's still standing.

When she finally turns away from where she broods, Ridley scrutinizes Ivette’s face, studying her body language, frowning at the peculiar little smile offered with the admission. Is it sincere? Is it mocking? Is it resolute, knowing the inevitability of what will come afterward?

They’re not the type to lie, after all—they came forward about their involvement with Jules’s murder with hardly any fuss, gracefully accepting judgment even if several of them refused to indulge that, Ridley included.

There’s hardly any room for her to speak, though. She ate Wren’s heart. She did it without a shred of remorse.

So many words come to mind—so many questions. The trick is figuring out which ones are relevant, the ones that might actually make a difference. Royce loved Ivette… And deep down, Ridley is certain there’s some shriveled, complicated part of herself that loves Ivette, too. Maybe love is too strong of a word. Understands feels more appropriate, but even that’s pretty far off the mark. 

It’s been a long, winding road for everyone.

“Eden wanted to die… Right? He'd always get real disappointed when he didn't... Right?”

She looks around at everyone else, making sure she’s taking the right step forward with her speculation. 

“We talked a long time ago. Me and him, I mean. About… Mercy, I guess. A really important act of love, when people thought… When I thought I killed Jules. He was real sympathetic about it. Maybe empathetic, I… I don’t even know if that’s the right word. It was one thing that happened that made me think real hard about… About you. And about a lot of other people.” 

The most generous among them might consider Wren’s demise merciful. Ridley takes it exactly for what it is—vengeance. With a weak laugh, she finds Ivette among them again, stoic and melancholy in a way that doesn’t seem particularly her.

“You’re too nice for that to be true. Even if that’s really what you want, I don’t think you’d really want to do it. Not after all of this. Not after everything everyone here has been through, even if you and him and you and other people disagreed on stuff… You had that in common, right? Mercy? Even if it wasn’t your intent with Jules… You still did it. And it still benefited someone other than just you even if you say you don’t care.”

Ridley doesn’t rush to join Ivette or pull her arm back to strike, lingering when they finally stand eye-to-eye with each other.

Instead, she embraces them, fingers curling against the fabric of Ivette’s jacket.

“I don’t like what’s going on out there. I don’t think anyone here does. And you and me and everyone here have had a lot taken from us… You especially. But I know you care about people, even if you closed your heart off. Even if you think nobody cares about you or that you're all alone or that there's nothing left out there for you. You wouldn't have tried to comfort me after... After..."

Ridley doesn’t justify anything beyond that, knowing she'll lose her composure if she continues—she just holds Ivette, closes her eyes, thinks about kinder times when they stood in the aquarium.

“If Eden’s still there… If he didn’t get to go the way he wanted to… Do you think you could give his heart back, please? And we can try this a different way?”

#submission #trial #mm #ridley