#this man is demented and i support it

[ashleygraves-number1defender]

people trying to make andrew out to be the “good” guy will always be hilarious to me— like dont get me wrong, i adore him but you cannot seriously expect me to believe he’s a better person than ashley when this picture exists. he’s better at lying for sure! but they are equally as corrupt and codependent as each other, andrew just hides it better

#speaking of this pic… #THE HAND PLACEMENTS? #THE HICKEYS AS WELL #HELLOOOOOO #this man is demented and i support it #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #ashley graves #coffincest

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of Nikto's Commandments!

A little angst because... yeah. Comfort next, though! Whenever I get around to it...

Content: Injury, Violence, Shock

Being shot feels exactly how you expected it would.

You’ve cared for enough bullet wounds, listened to enough agonized soldiers, to imagine it in vivid detail. Asked Nikto once. He didn’t have the words to explain it, just shook his head and ushered you off to the next thing. Mumbled something about not wondering after what wouldn’t come to pass.

Getting dragged bleeding and delirious with pain now, you have the hysterical thought I told you so.

Speaking of Nikto, you don’t know where he is now. You separated on O’Conor’s orders – Nikto needed for stealth, and you needed as support for another squad member. He hadn’t been happy about it, eyes searing into yours. But you had nodded for him to follow orders and ducked away to get the mission over with.

If you live through this, he’s never going to listen to you again.

You’ve got two men dragging your half-dead weight down the hall, another leading the way in front. A smear of crimson follows after your legs like a demented snail. You kick and try to thrash, but it just sends white-hot pain throughout your abdomen and leaves your vision spotty. One of the enemies says something – hard to hear over the beating of your heart, the rush of blood, the thrush of your blood-soaked clothes along the floor. But you hear something about torture and feel your already-ruined stomach sink.

KorTac doesn’t save compromised assets.

You can hear Nikto’s voice in your ear but can’t reach your headset to answer; the men have both your arms. Fuck, fuck.

His face flashes through your panicky mind. Handsome and ruined and still so sensitive to cold air and humid weather. Eyes so startlingly bright but fathomless. It’s like trying to find the bottom of the sky. You love waking up to them.

He’s getting more frantic now, voice hard but brittle. Others chiming in as well, but you hear his above all.

You murmur his name, the one you’ve only hushed in the quiet of a dark car. Wish you could tell him one more time.

There’s a shift in your captors’ gaits. A stairwell. Your body jolts down the first stair and sends spikes of fire straight from your throat. It’s an awful scream, loud and cracking and only serves to make it hurt worse.

But there’s a sudden, deafening silence in the echo of your voice.

Then Nikto.

“Copy.”

The men stop, realizing that your screams are going to be an issue. The one in the lead wrenches your head back, trying to shove some sort of fabric in your mouth. But the knowledge the Nikto is coming, that you just have to hold out, sends the pain to the back of your mind. You twist and struggle, teeth sinking into flesh.

Your boot catches on the corner of the step and you push.

The soldiers lose their grip, and you tumble halfway down the stairs, head bouncing off cement. But your arms are free, and you manage to grab the pistol at your thigh. Fire wildly and hit one in the leg with a ricochet off the wall. All the while trying to scramble out of sight before they can reach for their own weapons.

You hit the landing with a bitten-off yelp. But you’re low on bullets and you’re not confident in your abilities with a knife right now.

And then a blur of black armor slams into one of the men, a knee in his throat, crushing his windpipe. Someone follows just behind – you recognize Konig by height alone. He throws another down the stairs, and the soldier doesn’t hesitate to take the head start he’s been given. Doesn’t even pause to try to use you for leverage, just begins limping away. The third man is quick to turn tail while his comrades are being assaulted.

“Run, bastard,” Nikto laughs, ragged and manic.

He turns as if to follow and your heart turns to ice. “Stop!”

It’s like you’ve physically yanked on his leash. He goes rigid, head whipping around to take in the state of you. You can almost measure the fury that floods him when he realizes how badly you are.

“Nikto, I need you here,” you say, as calm and even as you can. Same voice you use as in medical emergencies – well, technically, you suppose this is a medical emergency. “Leave it to Konig.”

He jerks as if you’ve offended him somehow. Like you’re unjustly punishing him. You struggle up onto one arm, gun forgotten in favor of applying what little pressure you can to your abdomen. Your throat feels tight with repressed fear, struggling to breathe through radiating pain.

“I know you’re angry, I do,” you strain, “but I need your help right now. Revenge can come later. I’m sure Konig can save one for you.”

Understanding seems to dawn through bloodlust. Nikto darts to your side between one ragged breath and the next. He kneels beside you, pupils shrunken to pinpricks.

“Go on, Konig,” you call, “I’ll be alright.”

He nods and disappears. You turn to Nikto and softly call his name; instantly have his attention.

“I need you to apply pressure,” you explain, “I can’t do it myself.”

He does, but you know he’s trying to spare you. Doesn’t want to hurt you. You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug.

“Harder, love,” you whisper, “or it’ll kill me.”

His mask shifts as he grits his teeth and puts his weight into it. You choke on a cry, swallow it down and try to blink through spots.

“G-good. Keep it like that.”

“You’re shaking.”

You hiss out through your teeth. “I might be going into shock.”

“That can kill you too.”

“I said ‘might’.”

“How do I fix?” he demands.

You swallow and lower your arms to your side. “Loosen my vest as much as you can. Radio someone else for help, they can get a blanket. Don’t let up on my side.”

You focus on regulating your breathing while he obeys, murmuring to himself in Russian. You occupy yourself with trying to translate – though it mostly sounds like curses. Still, it’s something for your brain to latch onto other than the severity of your injury. You wish you could risk speaking, but the adrenaline crash is already hitting, and you need to focus on staying conscious for as long as possible.

Soon O’Conor is there, the foil blanket flashing in the shitty stairwell lights. He also comes with a stim that stabilizes you enough for Nikto to scoop you up and get you to exfil. You lose the plot after that, swimming in and out of awareness through triage.

But through it all, you keep your hand around Nikto’s.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #nikto x reader #cod nikto #nikto's commandments #commandments au

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

I believe this is the tiktok op is talking about. For those who don't feel like opening the link, here's what it says:

This is yet another case of Alicent stans being pissy when confronted with the truth of her character and taking it out on Rhaenyra. The poster of the tiktok is simply pointing out Alicent's hypocrisy and how readily she sacrificed her daughter for her ambition.

Apparently op believes Rhaenyra stans are making up actual facts of the story? I know they didn't read the book, but did they even watch the actual show? The main reason why Rhaenyra is seen as a better mother than Alicent is because we actually see how they treat their children.

Alicent takes every opportunity she has to instill treason into her sons. She teaches Aemond that Rhaenyra's sons are below him and constantly yells at Aegon that he's the "true heir". She actively allows Aegon to bully Aemond, as long as he does is in private. She full on physically assaults him when she thinks he's being too disgraceful in public.

With Helaena, it doesn't really matter how nicely Alicent treated her. Ultimately, Helaena is treated by her mother as a method to support Aegon's claim and give him "true Targaryen" heirs.

In the show, this is made even more disgusting because Alicent herself was forced to marry at a young age and have children she didn't want. She forced her only daughter to marry Aegon, who bullied and demeaned her, at fucking thirteen, this likely being when Helaena started menstruating. That's not being just a "flawed mother", that's a woman sacrificing her daughter in the name of blind ambition and treason.

I'm sure Alicent did love her children, in her own demented way. But she didn't love them enough to spare them from her and her father's ambitions. Alicent sacrificed each of her children for the throne and lived to see them all die for it.

Rhaenyra loved her children more than anything, part of the reason she fought so hard was for them. She knew Alicent's psychopathic sons would kill them if she surrendered. Every scene of Rhaenyra and her children, we see how much she cares about them and how tenderly she treats them. No, Rhaenyra isn't a perfect mother, but her sons never doubt for a moment that she loves them.

Not to mention that Rhaenyra actually respects their opinions, she included Jace, Luke, and even Baela and Rhaena in her war councils, and takes their opinions seriously. Alicent doesn't listen to her daughter or treat her like an adult. Aegon she drags around like a reluctant chess piece, one she beats because she can't deal with the the fact that she raised a rapist, but doesn't actually care enough to not make him the most powerful man in the realm. Aemond she treats as her emotional support, which is interesting given how completely unstable the guy is.

Op is another example of how Alicent stans don't actually like Alicent as a character, they like her aesthetic and victimhood. They hate how Alicent actually is written and lash out at anyone who points out who she really is.

#anti alicent stans #anti alicent hightower #anti team green stans #anti team green #anti aegon ii targaryen #anti aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon #team black

[gremlingottoosilly]

Your writing is amazing! I was wondering how König would deal with a chronically ill reader? I just get bad migraines and lose my balance so if I'm getting stalked there's a 100% chance he's going to see me bump into everything and also fall asleep everywhere LOL

Oh, it's going to fuck up with his toxic tendencies a lot. He knows that you're an adult woman, that you had a life before him, that you know your body better than anyone would, and that you understand your limits to any capacity - but he also knows that he wants to take care of you, and that your chronic illnesses can make you way more fragile than any other people, and he loves it.

He knows it's wrong, demented, he shouldn't be thankful to god that his wifey is a fragile mess that might hurt herself in any given second because of her health problems, but he would be so patient and soft with you. Fall-proofs the whole house, takes all baby-safe stuff to glue on the corners of walls and any furniture edges, manages your meds, and does everything to help you in terms of cooking and doing housework. He is a traditional man who loves being pampered, and he kinda enjoys your stumbling around the kitchen to prepare him dinner despite your pain, but he also wants for you to be safe! So he often offers help and just gently supports you everywhere. Konig is suffering from a sleepy girlfriend epidemic, he often finds you asleep in random chairs and has to gently move you to a couch or his bed - he enjoys looking at you, all weak and fragile, no matter how fucked up it might be for everyone else. You're his precious thing, he wants to take care of you!

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig

[vintagesffantasyactors]

Vincent Price (The Raven, The Fly 1958, The Last Man on Earth)- Who doesn’t love Vincent Price? Not only was he the King of Camp, starring in over a hundred films, both sci-fi and horror — he was also just a really cool guy. He was greylisted in the 50s for being a pre-war anti-nazi. He was an open supporter of LGBT causes and an honorary board member of PFLAG in the 1970s. He was one of the first celebrities to issue a public service announcement on the subject of HIV/AIDs. He founded the Vincent Price Art Museum as part of a lifelong effort to increase public access to fine art. He famously hosted dinner parties, wrote numerous cookbooks, and hosted his own cooking show. And, of course, he looked damn good doing it.

Dwight Frye (Frankenstein 1931, Dracula 1931, The Invisible Man)- He was the very first hunchback assistant to a mad scientist when he played Fritz in “Frankenstein”! Frye also starred in a lot of the other Universal Monster movies, including as another assistant in “The Bride of Frankenstein” and a very small part in “The Invisible Man”. He had the ability to convey absolute demented madness in a character, such as Renfield in “Dracula”. I always love seeing his characters, and find him kind of adorable even when he’s playing unsavoury people !

No additional propaganda

#sffantasy men 1 #sffantasy men polls #vincent price #dwight frye

[babytarttdoodoo]

hi! I've loved all the fic's you've posted so far! could I please make a request for something where Jamie gets officially diagnosed with ADHD and the team (and Roy and Keeley) are like 'well that makes sense' and are just so supportive through the process?

This was a doozy, anon, and I hope I’ve done it justice. Sorry Keeley didn’t get a lot of screentime - it ended up being a lot more introspective.

Thanks for the prompt!

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It wasn’t like no one had ever suggested it before.

Jamie, in fact, could clearly recall those cautious, gently probing questions Simon had ventured a few months after they’d first met. He was a teacher - a genuinely brilliant one, at that - and had recognised certain behaviours in the smart-mouthed teenager he was suddenly spending an inordinate amount of time around.

Unfortunately, Jamie had been a stubborn, prideful 16-year-old with little more than vicious dismissals for his mum’s cheery new boyfriend.

Years of school report cards and conversations at parents’ evenings echoed the same things.

If Jamie could just focus…

If he really applied himself…

If he tried a bit harder…

Exasperated teachers, tutors and coaches all leaving Jamie feeling stupid and frustrated with their attempts to guide him towards being better. Towards acting normal.

He had learned to live with the fact that some things were just harder for him than they seemed to be for everyone else. He set multiple alarms and reminders on his phone for everything he could think of. He wore jewellery and clothes that he could tug or twist or pull at without drawing too much attention to himself.

He learned to hold his tongue when he was overwhelmed and irritable for reasons he couldn’t define... and tried his best to apologise when he couldn’t keep the harsh words or knee-jerk reactions under control.

He coped.

It had finally taken a suggestion from Dr Sharon, a woman who had built up such an impressive amount of Jamie’s trust in a startlingly short amount of time that he often felt like she knew him better than he did himself, before he thought about doing anything more than that.

She had referred him to a specialist. Jamie made an appointment and answered the questions as best he could. Now, weeks later, it was official. He had ADHD.

Sitting with that information was strange. Deciding what to do with it was worse.

The first person he told was his mum. Obviously. She was reassuring and supportive, like he knew she would be, and even offered to take the train down that weekend to visit. Jamie declined, but he did have another request.

“Can you tell Simon?” he managed to choke out at the end of the call. “I think he’d like to know.”

The next conversation was a bit more complicated.

In amongst the information he’d received with his letter from the clinic were recommendations for ‘workplace accommodations’ - things that could help make ADHD easier to manage in a professional environment.

Most of it was completely irrelevant. Jamie didn’t need to sit in meetings all day or focus on a computer screen - he just needed to play football and that was the one thing he’d never had any problem with. But the advice (which Dr Sharon endorsed) was to discuss options with a manager.

Problem was, his manager was now technically Roy Fucking Kent.

And Jamie had absolutely no idea how to go about saying ‘hey, apparently my brain works differently’ to him in a way that wouldn’t end in either ridicule or dismissal.

(He was aware that he was perhaps being unfair to the man who was in many ways one of his closest friends these days. But there was a long and colourful history there that shaded every new interaction between them with the potential for chaos.)

Finally, driven half demented by days of overthinking it, he printed out a copy of his letter from the clinic and tossed it more or less directly at Roy’s head while he was filling out paperwork in his office. It mercifully landed on his desk, rather than smacking him in the face.

“Well, fuck you, too.” Roy deadpanned, fixing Jamie with a half-hearted glare and making no move to open the folded paper. “What’s that?”

“You could just fucking read it.” Jamie sulked, shoving his hands deep into the pouch of his hoodie. “‘S a letter, innit? From the doctors’.”

That had Roy frowning, what Jamie recognised as concern bunching up his brow. He picked up the document and unfolded it about as aggressively as one conceivably could. Kind of impressive, actually.

Jamie pinpointed the exact moment the information sank in and averted his gaze, locking in on the one part of the desk that wasn’t covered in files or wires or photo frames.

“Right.” Not bad, as far as reactions went. In his peripherals, Jamie saw Roy nod and readjust his hold. “... thank you. For, um, letting me know.”

“Yeah, well.” Jamie shrugged, plucking at the seams inside his pocket and studiously keeping his eyes trained on the same corner of Roy’s desk. “The leaflets and that they gave me said I should tell my boss. So. Now I have.”

“Right.” Roy repeated, agreeing like that made sense. He cleared his throat. “I know fuck all about it.”

“Join the club.”

That eased some of the weird tension that had been brewing and Roy huffed a laugh.

“Fair enough. Are you alright?”

Jamie gave that due consideration and finally dragged his stare back to Roy’s face before answering. “I think so. It’s weird, being told your brain is all…” He waved a hand around. “But it’s… nice. Knowing it’s not just me.”

Roy narrowed his eyes, assessing the truth of Jamie’s words, and seemed to accept what he said. “Is it alright if I put it in your file? Nate and Beard might have some input. Higgins should know too, probably.”

“Whatever.” Jamie chewed on his lower lip, mulling the implications over. “I don’t want to have to, like, say anything about it. But, yeah, you can tell whoever.” 

“That include the team?”

Jamie sucked in air through his teeth and pursed his mouth. Why that set his teeth on edge, he didn’t know. They were good lads - not always the most sensitive but they all (Jamie included) tried extremely hard to lift each other up when a difficult topic wormed its way into the safe space of their locker room.

This wasn’t Colin coming out or Sam fighting back against racist dickheads, though. It was just Jamie and his weird fucking brain.

“Dunno. I mean. Yeah. If you want.”

If Roy noticed his hesitation, he didn’t mention it.

Not a lot changed over the next few weeks. Jamie was still Jamie, after all. His quirks hadn’t disappeared overnight or become suddenly worse.

He coped. Just a bit differently. 

And so did the people around him.

A few days after his talk with Roy, Jamie was confronted by a smiling Keeley bearing a colourful gift bag: a present of cool rings that had spinning bands and mini gears he could fidget with, for ‘no reason’ other than she’d been thinking of him.

He spotted Sam with a book on the bus after a match, the title confusing him until he looked it up later. And then it cropped up again and again: on the shelf of Isaac’s locker, in the passenger seat of Colin’s car, sticking out of Jan’s bag.

Higgins approached him with a quiet and pleasantly confident assurance that the club’s management would do everything in their power to ensure Jamie was granted approval to use any medications that became necessary to his wellbeing.

The coaching team gave him a (mildly offensive) signal to use when he needed a minute, either to stick in his airpods and tune out, or to shuffle down to the boot room and breathe. More often than not, Dani would be waiting for him afterwards, beaming and ready to provide physical contact or launch into a full discussion on any inane topic he could think of.

Everyone was careful not to get outwardly annoyed when he asked them to repeat themselves or if he lost track of time. They let him talk when he went on a tangent. They were quick to forgive when he interrupted them or spoke without thinking.

They were… brilliant. It was brilliant.

Jamie carried on his therapy and worked hard to manage his symptoms and learn new behaviours. Despite Higgins’ promises, he decided against trying any of the medications offered to him, too concerned about weight loss and what (to his mind) felt like an unfair advantage on the pitch.

Diet and exercise became about more than just his job, they were further tools he could use to keep in control. He felt calmer most days and when he didn’t, Roy was there with extra workouts and an open door if he just needed a safe space.

It wasn’t perfect, of course it wasn't. Jamie still fixated on it when he fucked up and acted impulsively, screwing over his team or friends. He still let people down sometimes and struggled to understand how or why. He still needed to be held accountable. Shame at not being better still occasionally reared its head.

But that was okay.

Jamie was coping. And he wasn’t alone.

#self-projection? in MY fanfic? it's more likely than you think #fic prompts #my fic #jamie tartt #roy kent #ted lasso #afc richmond

[shdesofred]

I just find it hard to believe that the sorry jackass sitting in the white house is able to bypass congress when it comes to something like war... This man has sent weapons by bypassing congress twice, and apparently did not go through congress before deciding to attack another nation. This man is an outright delusional lunatic who is so demented he probably isn't even fully aware of who he is or what he's doing.

Shame on the United States for attacking the brave country that is standing up to Israel and stepping in to help the Palestinians. Shame on the United States for continuing to provide them weaponry. Shame on the United States for seeing the sheer amount of protestors all across not only this nation, but the entire globe, and yet continues to not only support Israel despite popular opinion, but also shame on them for daring to attack the people who actually want to help their neighbor in the middle east. Shame on you!

#gazaunderattack #israel #help gaza #gazaunderfire #gaza war #gaza genocide #gaza city #gaza #free gaza #gaza strip #yemen] #yemen #united states #the united states of america

[dayvan]

You JUST reblogged a post basically saying killing unarmed civilians and their families is good and necessary, that's what I was referring to. The confidence in calling me a "demented ape" for saying what I said is genuinely worrying man, why are you so aggressively supportive of this? Do you treat your friends like this too?

my friends don’t come into my inbox to support the ongoing genocide of people that share my ethnicity. eat shit.

#i don’t owe you any courtesy. unfollow and leave

[augustifolia]

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 

Hybrid!BakugoxF!Reader  PT. I      04/07/23

Summary: Fem! Hybrid Researcher Reader is cornered by the Grim Reaper himself until a spine-chilling growl meets the back of her neck, shockingly resulting in your safety. Days later when he faces euthanization, you make the effortless decision to repay him.

Warnings; misogyny, name calling, brief mentions of rape, brief mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of hybrid abuse, smut, etc.

Don't attack the writer for writing something you dislike, I'm talking to the you -person commenting a paragraph of pure hate-. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean someone else won't

All minors get tf out of here, or at least stay in the shadows idc.

This is my first post, be nice >:(

The judge drops his mallet finally releasing everybody back out into the world basically letting your ex off scot-free.

All the proof in the world wouldn't convince that misogynistic bastard a man could be in the wrong. Always the woman,

Always you.

You wish you could just sigh it off, to pretend it didn't bother you, but it does. It bothers you down to your core to the point you're choking down tears. There was nobody there to support you, neither at the jury or with you then when you needed it most.

You knew that it would end horribly being alone, that he would hunt you down for bringing attention to his abuse towards you, but you had nobody.

Staring down the now streetlight lit sidewalk you're confronted by one of his close friends. Hands in pockets, staring directly at you, followed by long silence, dead eye contact even.

"You know lying's no way to make friends" His sick smirk searing into your soul, eyes looking you up and down as per usual. "You know damn well every word I said in that room was nothing but the truth" you stand your ground reciprocating his cold stare. His smirk turned into a dark scowl. "He would never waist his strength on a dumb braud like you!" His booming voice punctures your eardrums as he makes his way closer to you. Merely three feet away, his heavy footsteps were put to a halt and replaced by a low growl from behind you. A growl that sent cold chills down your spine, a growl that made the back of your neck heated to the touch, a growl that scared you more than the demented man right in front of you.

"Is that your fuckin' dog, bitch?!" The crack of his voice only alarmed you more. He steps back as the beast behind you came forward, now breathing down your neck. An ongoing growl turns into a ground-shaking threat. It was the last thing that finally sent the man running, tripping, and crawling to safety.

Though he's now out of sight, your shoulders remain strained, bracing for some kind of impact, anything, but nothing happens. By the time you build the courage to turn your head the beast had left.

~~~

Trembling, quaking even, you drop to your bed curling your knees to your chest finally letting a few silent tears roll down the side of your cheek.

You know that this wont be your last encounter with your ex or one of his men. This isn't the end and you know it. You're not even sure if it's safe to continue work since you've been slowly gaining popularity. Many people have seen articles that you've written online and some have posted reactions on social media.

Luckily, you were able to escape before he had the chance to find out about your research, and even worse how much you're being paid for it. You personally don't have social media (Though you weren't allowed to) so nobody knows much about you. A kick-starter one of your fans made for you is the only reason you could afford to escape. Sadly the money will only last for three months of rent at most, and that's not counting food.

You've never been exactly religious, even in the worst of times, but you were praying that your Hybrid Sentience research would pay off and allow you to not only keep the apartment but to also stay under the radar.

You've always been against Hybrid domestication, at the early age of twelve you even started going to protests at shelters and places specialized in putting down Hybrids. How can someone regularize euthanizing a being with the same face as themselves? It's inhumane. But you'll be the one to finally stop it, to wake up the world on how insane the things we've normalized are.

But right now you're in no position to even open your laptop. You're stuck in the fetal position on your pathetic ground-level mattress with a steady stream of silent tears dividing down your rouge-pink tinted face. You drown in misery for another half hour before falling into the soft bliss of sleep.

~~~

It's been a week since the attack, and at last you're forced to confront the outside world once again. All you need is a few groceries to hold you over for another week. Fortunately yet ill-fated, you're most recent post blew up last night. It gave you a good sum of money that'll keep you comfortable for a while, but also has a very high chance of bringing the wrong kind of attention to you.

Walking by the area of the attack sent chills down your spine. You notice a tall, dark-skinned Hybrid with tattered clothes make its way into the alley followed by a familiar low growl. You urged yourself to keep walking, knowing involvement is more dangerous than not, but the sound dawned on you, you remember exactly where you heard it. It was the same growl that saved you the night of the attack.

As much as you long for that curiosity in your head to be answered common sense keeps you on your path. Promising yourself a bat of an eye into the direction of the alley on your way back and only that.

You vigilantly make your way through the market and out without any sign of your demented ex, almost forgetting your promise to yourself until your feet from turning the corner. The realization doesn't exactly register until you're there though, looking lost or even confused of sorts. You stand there seconds that feel like an eternity staring in front of you with bags in hand until the feeling of eyes on you becomes apparent. You turn your head ever so slowly to face the very alley and notice a pair of low-level carmine colored eyes turning the other direction. Those of which being the ones to sear into your soul.

Based on quick observation, the Hybrid is Human leaning appearance wise, there's a large spectrum but it's very obviously human leaning. He has blond, spiked hair and caramel colored ears atop its head. He sits with his back to the wall and arms perched on his knees. Fearful of staring too long, you make your way back to the apartment before you risk being spotted. But before getting too far out of sight you adjust your arm nonchalantly dropping his next meal out of the bag and continue walking.

~~~

You finally finished the last sentence of your new post and almost immediately the views flow in as if it was scheduled. Seeing this made you ecstatic. You were never one to make reaction/thank you posts, really not anything outside of your research, rarely even answering comments. Only a few were worth your attention like questions or even more rarely requests. This actually was an article based on a request; Can Hybrids Talk?

'Short answer, it really depends on the Hybrid.'

'Hybrids are called what they are because they aren't exactly a defined species between Human and Animal. What says animals can't talk? The Broca's area is highly underdeveloped, not to mention the shape of their mouths. But a lot of Hybrids contain more human features which only leaves the brain to be determined. Though a small portion of Hybrids are capable of speech and have achieved such unlabored, the world keeps them silenced to avoid the question of well, maybe more of them speak than we thought? That's all I have today, people. I'll get the science posted in a few hours.'

Your words' definitely spreading. This is one of your short posts and it still got tons of attention. That was the first thing that brought a smile to your face in months. The first thing that allowed you to sleep peacefully.

~~~

After last night, you decided to stop hiding, at least for that day. You've been cooped up in your apartment so long all you want is fresh air. Last night paid a lot after you posted the science behind your claim, even if you're still on a budget. Even still, you ended up with almost $300.

It's still reason to celebrate though.

The cold air filled your lungs and refreshed your state of calm with each breath. All you needed was a walk, but you still didn't want to test your own luck so after an hour or two you walked back. In the middle of you're walk though you're stopped by a man from the Hybrid Control Center setting up cones.

"Ma'am, I need you to turn around. We're shutting down this whole block." You were stopped twenty-ish feet from the alley which is the one-block mark from the apartment.

"What? Well, can I just go by real quick? This block is where my house is." You begin to panic trying to see around him and anyway to get through. The man blocks your path.

"If it's your only option you could wait," His words disappear into nothing but meaningless mumbles once you realize who they're here for.

Another man goes in the alley way with a noose pole as the others' incoherent mumbles only agitate you more. These Bastards do enough already to piss you off but if they even think they can contain that Hybrid you're gonna go ballistic. No part of you is stopping yourself from running in there and saving him any way you can. Common sense became inexistant, you run in pushing past the man who you didn't realize asked you out while you were lost in your head.

You sprinted to the entry of the alley, putting yourself to a halt via sliding and blocking the man. "Stop!"

Apparently the Hybrid hadn't been awake or aware of what was about to happen because sudden startled movement was heard from behind you along with that familiar low growl. "What're ya' doin' lady?! That thing's gonna kill you!" He snapped pushing you at your side by the pole.

"The hell did he do to go to the shelter?!" you push the pole away "He has a long history of biting and violence, now move." With one swift whack with the pole you're knocked to the ground. After the fact you wanted so much to protest, but you couldn't push yourself up no matter how much you tried.

They left you there pushed to the side puking your intestines out, paralyzed in pain.

You slowly sat up regaining your bearings watching the fight go down. The man who had urged you to stay comes to your aid with a bottle of water and holds your hair back. He's as useful as the hair tie already holding your hair up.

Once you finally find a break and catch your breath you plead with the man who finally had a tight hold over the Hybrids neck. "I'll adopt him, please just let him go," you beg seeing the Hybrid fight for its life. "Take that up with people who adopt out Hybrids, not us." He says, finally kicking the hybrid into the back of his truck by his chest.

The one that was some-what the most helpful out of the two stands and extends a hand, which you reject. If that's what it takes to help him after he saved you then you're adopting a Hybrid. No questions asked.

~~~

You make your way home with the intention of checking your injury and grabbing the necessary documents to adopt him but end up too badly in pain to get up off the sofa. The pole left a large, dark purple bruise on your right at the bottom of your ribcage. Luckily nothing's broken, but there's no way you can get up, much less walk to the shelter. All you're left to do now is sit and maybe sleep, until your eyes fall on your laptop sitting just below your feet..

'I think I might be getting a roommate tomorrow.'

'Recently I've had issues regarding my privacy and safety. A few weeks ago, I was confronted by a person with the intention of inflicting harm. As he came closer readying himself for an attack, I heard a growl come from behind me. Luckily, I came out more than unharmed. There had been a Hybrid in the alley I was near who saw someone in immediate danger. The Hybrid caused no harm to the second party though he very well could have, but in the end, he didn't need to. The man had left but so had the Hybrid. After the fact though, I have seen the Hybrid many times over the course of two weeks.'

'Today I allowed myself outside for a walk finally feeling in a state of safety, only I wasn't. On my way home I was met with men from a Hybrid Control Center who were obstructing my path to my apartment. I notice one of the men cornering the same Hybrid in the alley with a noose pole. Admittedly, I didn't think before I acted and put myself between the Hybrid and the man. Between the two, the man ended up causing more damage, hitting me in the rib area with the pole leaving a dark bruise.'

'I gathered all the necessary papers that allow me to take him home, but once I sat down the true excruciation of it all kicked in. I'm picking him up tomorrow, but I'm worried they won't allow me to take him.'

Barely finished but tired, you post it without any well put conclusion and fall asleep where you are on the sofa.

~~~

The mark on your rib cage still hurts, but it's not as agonizing as it was last night. You waisted no time getting up and leaving. Your exhausted legs push themselves as fast as they can go to the shelter slamming the papers down on the circulation desk. "I want the blonde one. He came in last night."

The initial shock on the ladies' face fades after a moment

"red eyes?"

"mhm" I hum in response.

"His names' Katsuki Bakugo. He has a long history of violence and always gets away. He's going to be put down later today," She responds as kind as possible.

"Am I still able to take him though?" I ask almost cutting her off.

"I don't see why you want him specifically. He doesn't do well with pets, other Hybrids, children, and in most cases even his owners. Also, we already have the euthanasian scheduled and signed off on."

"Please, I'll do anything to get him out of here." you begin to beg

She sighs, followed with a long silence, then she lowers her voice.

"I would be able to release him to you if you signed a series of papers acknowledging that he is an at-risk Hybrid and agreeing to keeping him under supervision. If you think you can keep him under control those are the only conditions I'm allowed to release him under."

Following her tone, you thank her in every way possible. "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!"

"Of course," she smiles.

~~~

After an hour and a half of filling out stacks on stacks of paper and a WAY over your budget fee you're officially free to take home the blonde. The kind lady who's been nothing but help since you've arrived brings you down a hall of caged Hybrids, leading you to Bakugo. The room echo's with howls and cries and rattling of the cage door pleading to be freed too.

The two of you reach the end of the corridor and you barely notice Bakugo curled up by the wall at the far end of a cage inhumanely small. Without even looking, he bares his large teeth probably in preparation of being grabbed again. The woman attempts to come off non-threatening while kneeling in front of the door.

"Are you ready to-" His low growl cut her off.

"-go home..?" She finishes making him go quiet. It wasn't a sudden stop, but it was apparent.

To coax him into remaining tranquil, you kneel down beside her. It's only fair he be given an explanation. He shifted his gaze towards you, then looks back towards the wall. The woman sighs, unsure of what should happen, how she would get him to behave just long enough for you to take him home.

"Ma'am, I might have to muzzle and cuff him," she states triggering him once more.

"My apartment isn't far from here," I say to de-escalate the situation "are you fine walking with me, Bakugo?" He needs to feel like he has a choice, and he needs to know you're not going to chain him up.

He responds with something between a grunt and a sigh. Without warning the woman, you unlocked the cage causing her to jerk back.

"C'mon," you stand up "That cage has to be degrading." You continue. The woman whispers into her walkie talkie, probably calling for people to be on watch.

After a moment of stillness, Bakugo crawls out and stands up turning out to be taller than you by about a head. The woman definitely took a few steps back once she realized how much larger he was compared to herself.

"U-uhm, this way" she leads followed by you and Bakugo many feet behind you.

When you got out to the front you went to fill out the sign out sheet but stopped when you realized men making their way towards Bakugo. You grabbed him by his hand holding it up "He's staying with me" you kindly smile dragging him along.

You don't bother to check on him, but he seems to be doing fine. He isn't fighting your grasp so you don't feel the need to. You pull away long enough to finally sign off, but immediately reconnect your hands in fear he might disappear. Of course there aren't many places for him to go, but the worry resides in the bottom of your heart.

"Thank you!" I blurt and drag him out.

After reaching a safe distance far enough away he pulls himself away in an aggressive manner, possibly contemplating running away.

You come to a slow stop to look behind you, to look at a confused, overwhelmed Bakugo.

"Bakugo," you start, making him bare his teeth. "am I going too fast?" you pause. "We can take a break, you know, I know I can get overwhelming at times." you show your bright teeth giving a kind aura. Though he reciprocates it with a snarl and throws his back to the wall, sliding down the bricks making the back if his shirt rise a little.

You stand a moment assessing the situation, deciding what to do next. You finally decide you slide down the wall with him a few feet away. Facing the street.

You sigh, "You knew what you were doing that night, didn't you?"

"You saved me, you know. I know him, and he didn't come to just say hi."

After a few moments of silence he finally grants you a glance. Since you at least got his attention you stand up hoping he's as ready to go as you are.

"They were ready to put you down. The only reason I took you was to pay you back. I don't believe in domesticating Hybrids, but I'm willing to home you as another human being. I can assure that you'll never be treated like an animal, neither by me nor anyone else."

Holding your hand out "I promise" you say waiting for any sign of approval.

Though he doesn't grab your hand, he does stand up and willing to follow you. That was all you needed to realize the first connection was finally built.

~~~

Once you arrived at home, you instantly noticed Bakugo not knowing what to do with himself. Standing in the corner of the room while you start something for dinner. Eventually though he decides to explore, and you notice the soft click of each door being opened and an occasional rustling sound from him digging through stuff probably. You don't mind, there isn't much for him to get into and you want him to be well acquainted and feel at home. Maybe if he found out simple locations of things like extra blankets, he would feel more comfortable.

You don't intend on yelling at him much, he's an intellectual individual who probably wouldn't do anything too stupid to be scolded.

You're guessing, or more hoping, that he found his room and isn't tearing something up. In all seriousness, you've never kept a Hybrid in your house unaccompanied. You made him a well sized plate after seeing what he had been fed (and did not eat) back at the shelter. You hated to admit it but you also didn't know if he preferred silverware or not so you added it in anyway. It truly will be a learning experience for you, since you've only been on the studied science side of Hybrids and not the everyday life side.

You knock on his door with a full plate and glass of water in hand, and he responded with a territorial yet tired growl. You disregard and open the door. "Did you want to eat in here or the kitchen?" You ask leaning against the wall while he digs through the blankets you made his bed with. He responds with another growl and some kind of imitation of a bark. It almost feels like it's unnatural for him. But without question you smile and set the meal down by his bed as he growls at you every step of the way.

About to finally exit, you turn your head with a faint smile, "I know, scary human" you laugh and even act as if you had claws. After, you free him and close the door.

~~~

You hadn't seen Bakugo all day except when you came to ask if he wanted more water, in which he responded with his loud imitation barks. It took you about an hour to realize that he was chewing you out for walking in unannounced.

So now here you are, lying in bed finally allowing yourself to open your laptop. And holy shit responses piled up. You even took the liberty of scrolling through some comments, which most are requests for an update.

'It took hours of paperwork and a lot of money that I didn't really have to spare to take him home. I haven't had a chance to read his history personally yet but the kind lady at the shelter e-mailed it to me so I'll be knowing who I'm housing very soon.'

'His first day at home was what I expected to be. He's smart, but has a wall built up. And I plan on waiting for the wall to deteriorate, because I'm worried if I were to make an attempt at deconstructing the walls myself, I might accidentally break something fragile hiding inside.'

'So far he's taken the liberty of exploring but since then he's hidden in his new room. I have no issue with this, he can stay where he feels most comfortable as long as needs. When I informed him that I had made him a meal he growled until I left which was understandable, and I did leave but what caught my attention was the abnormality behind his bark. It sounded like a human with years of practice had faked it. Of course that should have been expected because of the interspecies vocal cords but I'm convincing myself that he may have the capability of speech.'

'This is it for today everyone, I'm exhausted. I'll begin research again tomorrow.'

~~~

It's been days and you've only seen Bakugo during passing or when feeding him. He stopped growling when you came in and even started bringing out his dishes. You have no idea when, but he gets it done and leaves a neat pile by the sink every day.

He even figured out how to get his own water which you hoped he would figure out soon. You have no idea what he knows how to do, because based on the records that you've only skimmed over and then stalked his previous owners who were listed, they were all heavy on animal treated Hybrids and treating them as dogs, even going as far as forcing him to stay outside and denying him clothing. When he was taken back to the shelter he weighed way less than he should have because he refused to eat the hard cornels of food made for pets or even the slop filled with meat chunks and gravy.

After reading that you look over to his plate sitting on the counter completely licked clean.

The things on the list were nasty, his bite history was recorded as if it was his fault, but all of them were rightfully instigated. For example, I believe it's common knowledge that there are people who have relations with their Hybrids, but along with that always means there are people out there who sexually abuse them too.

This story almost brought you to tears thinking about them wanting to put him down for protecting himself. This was actually the most recent thing on record.

One of his owners didn't allow clothing, which he sadly had already grown accustomed to. Anyways, the man kept trying to grab him, and when he got too close for Bakugo's comfort he bit the mans arm leaving a nasty mark. The man requested he be put down but he escaped to the streets where he was when he found you.

he found you.

~~~

You made an effort to buy something different for him to wear every day for a week until a friend of sorts was able to bring over a donation. All freshly bought clothes.

Every pair of clothes you leave him he's worn, he's smart and you know it. Almost every interview you've had with people and their Hybrids you've found that Hybrids never dressed themselves. That if the people were those who decided to cloth Hybrids that they cloth the Hybrids themselves. Bakugo was almost nothing like other Hybrids. He growled and barked to protect himself, and that was the most human part of him. The part that lies about himself because nobody wants to own a talking Hybrid to call them out on their bullshit. Because they know that the Hybrid doesn't get a choice in living with them, and they want something to be grateful that they had given it a home, and they want something that blindly loves them no matter what.

He's smart, he really is. But he's also undoubtedly scared. He's scared of humans, and you don't blame him one bit.

Today though was different.

You're in your lab, messy bun, crazed coffee addiction, the works. The room doesn't have a door, just an archway. For the first time Bakugo made an attempt to interact with you. He slowly came to the lab and leaned against the archway, partially to watch what you were doing, but also to get a little attention.

"Hey, Bakugo" I smile, but avoid looking due to my focus drawn to my work. He makes one of his grunting noises, one that could mean anywhere from anything to nothing. "I need words, did you want something, or did you just come to watch?"

He responds with an irritated growl, receiving a poorly imitation in return. "C'mon, you're bright enough to get a cup of water," I start.

"Make. Me. FOOD." His words caried the venom that dripped from his teeth. His words were broken due to his eternal taciturnity but he's clear and you're just glad you've gotten him to speak.

"Fit a 'please' in there and I'll cook something when I'm done." you say sending him a smile that was bitterly rejected. "Now." He demanded in the same harsh tone. "Sit down for a sec or something, if I stop I'll lose my train of thought." I say pulling chemical samples out of the centrifuge. He sighs and after a moment he noticeably plops down.

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. His face says it all, confusion written all over it.

"I'm looking at the chemicals in Hybrid blood, comparing it to that of a human and its coordinated alter-species."

A long, sad moment passes and you assume he left, but he had stayed. But when he stood up you knew he was about to. "Feed me!" He continues.

You sigh, losing hope in your theory. Now realizing he has the same thoughts as any Hybrid, just with the capability to voice them.

You try not to show how disappointed you are, but it shows nonetheless. "I thought you said I wasn't gonna be treated like an animal, It's not a chore to make me food!" His words shocked you, breathing life into what you thought was gone. He has more thoughts than 'food' and that makes you more than happy.

You finish up and lean against the counter. "Yeah, you got me there. But it is a chore picking up where I left off. Cooking is a whole other task and I can't afford to forget what I'm doing."

"Well are ya' done now?!" He demands. You sigh but smile, something only awarded to being right. "Yeah, I'm done." You say and take off your coat and walking to the kitchen. When we get in there he instantly goes to the spice rack and begins to pull things off. His face displays distaste and anger, but his tail can't help but wag. After pulling things off the rack he pushes himself into the counter to hide his tail. "Put those in it, your cooking's bland as hell!" He yells.

"I'm not a cook" I laugh. "You shouldn't be." he snaps back. "Ouch,."

"Ouch? You've seen my 'record'. I've done worse. Feel lucky I haven't ripped you're face off yet." He spits. You sigh as you walk by to pick up the spices, patting his head on your way. "Hey!" He scolds. "Go sit down, okay?" You tell him gently. "What, are ya' getting rid of me already?" He's making a sad attempt to instigate a fight, but it's not going to work on you. "Well duh, this is for me. I'm taking you back to the shelter once I finish eating."

"You aint gonna eat a two pound steak, twig!" He defends "Well you aren't either, we're splitting it." you mumble, focusing on cutting the food while trying to defuse the situation.

"What're ya' trying to starve me?" "Totally." you reply without much attention to the conversation, paying your attention to how much oil you were putting into the pan.

He growls in a sad attempt to intimidate you "I demand both pieces!"

"You demand it?" You glare at him since in all seriousness, he's acting like your ex and that's a solid deal breaker in deciding how irrational of a mistake you made.

Even though you're mad, you need to keep the situation contained.

"Are you deaf?" He asks.

You stop responding, hoping he'll stop but also sad. Sad that you did make a mistake by sparing him the benefit of the doubt. Sad that you're just destined to be alone. God, your own mom rubbed it in your face. You're alone without him, you were alone without your ex no matter how abusive he was.

The food was now ready, so you threw his on the table. It didn't hit too hard since you caught yourself last minute, but it still hit hard enough to notify him. He sits at the table and tears the meat with his bare teeth and hands. You honestly didn't even think to ask how he liked it cooked. I mean, does it matter? He's an asshole for one, and he's like a dog. You were wrong to think he's human. He has zero empathy at all even after saving him. You left it pretty rare, if he doesn't like it he'll manage.

~~~

It takes him minutes to finish eating, but for some reason he stays sitting. Even after you rinse both of your plates and sit on the couch unpausing whatever he was watching earlier. Using it as some kind of offering, welcoming him over without even having to look at him.

You didn't even notice the fact you were sulking the whole time, even after you sat down. After maybe twenty something minutes of him not moving a muscle you steal a glance. he's sitting at the table with his head down and you figured he had fallen asleep or something, until you realize his eyes dart in the direction opposite of you.

You sigh, get up, and walk over to kneel beside him. Well, you were going to until he bares his teeth and begins to growl. "C'mon Bakugo, stop pouting and come sit down." I say through his piercing stare. He died down pretty quickly, but still seemed upset.

"You know there's a difference between saying something honestly and saying something sarcastically, right? I'm not getting rid of you, okay?" you say softly to reassure him. "Of course I know that, stupid human!" He says after a minute "I wouldn't care either way. You can get rid of me I don't give a damn."

you laugh and pat his head "Okay then, " you mumble, getting up to sit back on the couch. He sits a minute until you realize a small thumping growing louder by the second. When he gets up it instantly stops, making you realize that the sound was his tail hitting the chair. He comes to sit on the floor in front of the couch opposite of you, as far away as possible.

"What're you doing on the ground? Sit on the couch." I say patting beside me.

He looks around for anything that you could possibly throw at him or hit him with, but realized there isn't really anything except the remote down by your feet. He cautiously moves to take a seat on the couch, but flinches the moment you grab the remote just to turn the volume up a bit.

He stills for a moment, then fully allows himself to sit down. But the way he flinched worried you, you knew it was the kind of flinch that was a dead give away of post traumatic stress.

You refrain from mentioning it, but the concern continues to expand to the point of agony. To the point where all you can think of is comforting him in some way. But you know he'll go back to the shelter and give up his life before he lets you touch him.

But if you had the chance, you'd wrap your arms around him without second thought, even if he's an asshole of a Hybrid.

~~~

You woke up that morning still on the couch, but something was off. The room felt empty and you couldn't put your finger on why. That is until the pillow by your feet falls to the ground, because the pillow was placed where Bakugo should have been. At least, he was there.

You don't bother wondering where he went, because if you know him he probably doesn't want to be found. Instead, you start breakfast. If he wants to come out he will, today you're not going to fight with him. You're both in the same boat, and both trying to kick the other off violently.

"Bakugo," You shout. "you like bacon, right?" You ask hoping to grab his attention and wake him up. You can't pin down which door had slammed, but it didn't sound close enough to be his. It doesn't bother you too much, you're purely curious. It's just like the first day, you're not hiding anything and you're hoping he's not stupid enough to trash your lab.

He comes out in the same clothes from the night before which is unusual for him. He's really weird about being clean, you know, for a Hybrid. Another reason why you feel he's smarter than any Hybrid.

"Of course I like bacon, stupid human." He mumbles and rubs his eyes. "Good, grab what you want." you say in a sickeningly sweet tone. You quickly regret it when he grabs the whole plate. You simple sigh and wait until he gets only through a few pieces before he realizes he doesn't know where to put the rest that should have been yours. "C'mon, hand it over I'm hungry."

"Whatever!" He defends and shoves the plate in my face until you grab it. "So mean" you pout.

Bakugo curls up at the end of the couch with an angry glare, but you can't help but bring your attention back to his tail and its joyous motion.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?"

His glare darts to you and the offence is written in bold letters all over his face. "HUH!?"

"I've been cooped up in the apartment forever and just want some fresh air. I just thought to ask if you felt the same. I don't have to take you thou-"

"Don't you dare leave me, Human!" He spits, then takes a second to rebuild his words. "Don't leave me in this hell hole! The smell of your horrible cooking is permeated in the walls!" He trips on his new choice of wording as you get up.

"Fine, I'll pick you up some kibble at the market." I say non-chalontly, but without an ounce of seriousness. "Or even better, the mushy stuff. I know you love that." you laugh, but he didn't see it the way you did. He growled, mentally digesting every word you said. "Actually, we can make that here. I can just water down the kibble for you, It's the same thing."

His obviously fake bark fills the room and bounces off the walls. "I'm kidding!" you giggle "C'mon, you can pick whatever you'll eat at the store. You'll have to pay though." Your sounds of joy override his irritation. "What're ya', stupid? I don't have money." He continues his glare, obviously not in the mood for your bullshit.

"Well then get a job,"

"You know hybrids can't work, right idiot?"

"Oh really?" You say, gesturing for him to follow you out the door.

"Then maybe you can help me." you're hoping to slide your articles into the conversation. That is before his mind took a turn for the worst.

"I aint gonna be part of your perverted fantasy, Human!" He yells after coming outside in all seriousness.

"What! Bakugo, no!! That's not what I meant at all!" you cover it up noticing at the corner of your eye a neighbor staring. "Where did you even get that idea?!"

"you have a whole room devoted to fuckin' hybrids, what are you talking about? You even put pictures of them on the wall, you freak."

"Oh my god, Bakugo, that's NOT what that room's for! I'm a researcher. I figure out how Hybrids' minds' work. Those pictures are of volunteers, Hybrids that have either personally let me examine them or owners who have volunteered them."

"Tch, 'owners'." He mumbles.

"Just to clear things up, I address them as their owner if they're animal leaning, and their housing if they're human leaning."

"yeah? And how do you tell which is what? By looks? What did you think I was?"

"Bakugo, calm the hell down. I have a device that scans their brains. Hybrids that are animal leaning have parts of their brain that aren't active. I had a physically full cat Hybrid that was more than sentient. He was actually a borderline genus. I even spoke to him as so, as I do you." I explained.

"What brain scanner? You didn't scan me." No matter what, he wants there to be something wrong with you. Anything. Because in his eyes you're too good to be true.

"You're literally talking to me right now.." I point out. "You can't be animal leaning when your thoughts are that in depth."

"I aint any part human. I can't be. No matter how bad I'll ever be I'm not as bad as your whole species." he rants.

sighing, "Bakugo, are you gonna help me or not? I wanna know how much money I'll have. The store's just around the block."

He sighs too. "Fine, Human. What do you want me to do?"

"Just let me study you a bit when we get home, 'Kay? That's how I get the money to feed you."

"Yeah fine. Do what you want but I'll kill you if you stab me."

I think as hard as I can, but can't bring myself to understand what he said "..Stab you?.."

"With the tiny knives! Are you tryna' gaslight me?"

"OHHH, needles! No, no needles."

"GOOD"

~~~

"Ma'am, you can't have your dog in here without a leash" was the last thing that sent you over the edge, along with the stares and whispers.

"You have the wrong woman." I say in monotone, avoiding his stare and moving on with my un attentive Hybrid. "Ma'am, please wait. I need you to put that thing on a leash or leave." He says grabbing my wrist. By this point Bakugo made a full 360 turn and is ready to attack the clerk. "Bakugo, let him be. And you," you glare at the clerk "let me go. This 'dog' is more under control than you. Get your shit together and leave us alone" i spit holding my glare.

"It's my job to escort you and your pets out if you can't follow the stores policy." He states and begins to tug on your wrist. "I aint a pet!" Bakugo growls. "Bakugo," You say in a scolding tone, making him think you, just as the rest of his past owners, have silenced him. That you've forbidden him of speaking in public, but the light in his eyes are as visible as stars when you speak. "be a sweetheart and get him off, please." I say continuing my glare and the clerk.

With a simple bare of Bakugo's teeth the man is off. "I need security." He mumbles and backs off slowly. "You go do that."

~~~

"God, the people who work there have nothing better to do, don't they?" I say to myself as Bakugo helps me bring in all the bags and put them up. "No, that goes in the fridge" I correct, making sure he doesn't put the milk in the pantry.

He stands completely still long enough to concern you, then you realize that a large portion of his life wasn't spent in domestication, and when it was he was tied to some tree outside.

You open the door to the fridge and put a block of cheese up, hoping that he'll get the hint. You've only been under a roof with him for a little less than a month and you can already tell how sensitive his ego is.

He takes his chance once you move to put the milk in the fridge drawer. Once you escape his gaze, you fix his mistake. Bakugo digs through the final bag and finds everything he tossed in the basket. He puts it away accordingly the best he can, then sits on the couch.

"Bakugo, you were gonna help me, remember?"

"Huh?" He stares blankly, then remembers his promise. "Fine" he mumbles and gets up. "No 'needles', got it?" He confirms "No needles" you smile.

~~~ 'Hello people,

Again, I must apologize for my lack of activity, but my time offline was well spent. The Hybrid and I have bonded to the point he grew protective while out in public, that is of himself and me. Honestly, I can say the same for myself.

Also, in this time, he has become verbal. Without a brain scan I was able to decipher which parts of him were human and which here animal. The thoughts that he was able to put into fluent words are incredible, and even the things that he didn't know the word for he was able to describe.

He allowed me to examine him and get a swab. I found that his mix is human of the Japanese decent and blonde Ethiopian wolf. His behavior is different compared to full Ethiopian wolves, which leads me to think Hybrids might be evolution instead of the simply guessed, which is natures fluke.

He's harsh, really, but he's become kinder during his time under a safe roof. After reading his file, giving him an overall examination, and studying his behavior I believe past home's have abused him, which explains his overall belligerence.

The thought of him receiving cruel treatment hurts, and I wish I could erase his trauma but I can't. The best I can do is make him feel safe and at home.

Until later, readers.

~~~

You set down your laptop and grab your towel to shower, sure that Bakugo was just as exhausted as you. But soon after you finished an hour long shower and lay down still wrapped in a towel he's at your door.

"What do you need?" you say keeping yourself wrapped in a cocktail of blankets.

"I can't sleep." he mutters from the doorway.

Your silence shows your utter confusion. "Do you.. want a cup of tea or meds or something?.." you ask.

He's just as silent as you were. "I wanna sleep in here." he says quieter than he's ever been.

"Bakugo, you have your own room. What's wrong with sleeping in there?" you ask.

His ears fold to the side and flick, "I don't want to sleep in my room." he mumbles, keeping his eyes to the ground. "It's cold."

"I'm sorry," you say feeling guilty for keeping the apartment so cold at night "I'll turn the heat up and give you a few more blan-"

"I don't want blankets, I wanna sleep in here." He says in a now louder tone, giving you the eye contact you've been lacking.

You sit for a minute, contemplating whether it's appropriate, what to tell him, but you're at a loss for words.

"Bakugo.." you start but don't get a chance to finish.

"What? What does it matter? Everyone just sees me as a dog, why don't you? You wouldn't care if a dog slept in here, and you'd more than let a human do the same, what makes me so different, huh?" It was painfully obvious that his feelings have not only been brewing, but also his expectation of a 'no' falling from your lips.

"...I was just going to ask if you could close the door, please..? I'm not dressed and-" You expected him to leave before you had to explain, but that was indeed not the case..

"I kinda need privacy.." You receive a confused ear-flick in response. "C'mon, you're smart, get out for a sec!" you try explaining. "And F-Y-I I don't see you as a dog or a human. I see you for what you are. Now let me dress!"

He finally leaves you be with an irritated groan.

~~~

After dressing in shorts and a baggy T-shirt you invite Bakugo back into your room. The part of you that saw only ears and a tail subconsciously expected him to lay on the foot of the bed or the floor even, but that was indeed not what happened. He took his place on the left of your bed, which corners you in the right.

You deal, but start to struggle with falling asleep. Bakugo was out the moment he laid down, and soon scooted closer and closer until his head was rested on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist.

He's a Hybrid, Hybrids cuddle.

Except,.

He's not just a Hybrid.

~~~

This was running kind of long and the ending was improvised.. so, part II maybe?

#smut #my hero academia #bakugou x y/n #bakugo #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou angst #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #mha #mha bakugou #mha x reader #mha smut #boku no hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #bnha smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #hybrid #hybrid au #mha au #bnha au #my hero academia au #hybrid x reader #wolf hybrid #wolf bakugou

[ijustthinkhesneat]

I’m gonna share my DC character headcanons because I want to and no one can stop me! (I wish I had cool art skills to ad visuals to this but I am artistically challenged 😔)

Bruce Wayne:

Birthday: October 10th, 1991 (Spooky szn, also I decided he’s not old)

Sexuality: Bisexual he’s in love with Clark 😊

Favorite Animal: Bats because I’m basic

Has Autism

Height: 6’0

Favorite Food: Lasagna, it is inexplicably the only thing he can cook.

Gender Identity: Demiboy, He/They Pronouns

Now the juicy backstory…

-In my demented brain Bruce didn’t actually have a happy childhood before his parents death and that Thomas was kind of a traditional toxic masculinity man. I think Martha tried her best but couldn’t fully protect Bruce. Alfred was a friend of Martha that moved in after their deaths to take care of Bruce and instilled a lot more positive values in him.

-Is canon, absolutely not, but it’s my brain I can do what I want. I feel like this also helps explain Bruce’s struggles with being a emotionally vulnerable with his kids and the why he makes shitty choices sometimes.

-I also believe he wants to be better and genuinely tries really hard to be a good dad. Very much that trope of ‘I want you to have a better life than I did’.

-Post Alfred moving in with Bruce his development into Batman plays out pretty much the same, but he he does start to realize he is not the straight.

-After adopting Dick he finds out that his son is definitely not straight (caught holding Wally wests hand in a not god honoring way) and has a lot of internal turmoil, he wants to support his son, but has to wrestle with his own internalized homophobia. (Thanks Tom). Lots of angst it’ll be great.

-This contributes to Dick leaving and Bruce finally confronts his issues, enter Jason.

-Jason dies and Bruce goes all the way off the deep end, almost kills the joker. I actually like the idea that Dick stops him and then returns secretly to finish the Joker off, cause he thinks Bruce wouldn’t be able to recover.

-Tim gets adopted a little earlier because jack and Janet throw him out for being trans. Trans baby Tim is the best. This helps Bruce come to terms with his own identity again.

-Steph becomes robin because slay queen mama waffle boots the house spoiler

-Jason returns and has his under the red hood arc minus Bruce basically slitting his throat with a batarang cause I hate that and it makes no sense.

-Cass is adopted and becomes the silent chaos queen we deserve. I like many people headcanon her as being selectively mute, Bruce learns sign language faster than anyone else.

-Damian shows up around the age of 5 because again time is like dick Grayson, bendable as all hell. Bruce loves his babies but extra babies Damian because he loves him and sees a lot of himself in Damian and doesn’t want him to be like him.

-Bruce reachs out to Jason because he missed his son to much and he comes back and omg it’s just the best thing to ever happen pls DC let these boys be SOFT.

-Bruce adopts Duke because another vigilante child isn’t gonna make a difference now but little does he know that his fifth son is perhaps the most chaos gremlin of all. He is flashlight and he will step on the Jokers throat for fun, because not only did the joker jokerize his bio parents but he fucked with his brothers and his dad to much so he’s gonna toaster that man’s tub.

That’s my Bruce headcanon and time line the others won’t be this long but this is for me so I don’t care what anyone thinks teehee.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne is a good dad #batfam #Bruce is also kinda Brucie Wayne in real life #being Batman is hard he just needs to turn his brain off sometimes #cassandra cain #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #he has autism too #steph doesn’t get as much cause she doesn’t get adopted but she’s his daughter in spirit #oops forgot Barbara #duke thomas #fuck the joker #Harley left his ass along time ago #clark kent #batman #dc batman #not canon

[screamqueenbarbie]

“… Sorry. Say that again?”

@delrcy

“…Fix your hair,” Tiffany is sat at his kitchen table, head in books and books she stole from sketchy hole in the wall occult shops ran by old women with hunchbacks or men with weird sideburns with nothing but an ashtray and a industrial flashlight for moral support. Either way she was doing a lot to help a man out of relatability, pity.

She felt a little out of place because usually when she’s at an older man’s house she’s usually scoring pot or free beer. Now she’s just looking over a sad puppet and his demented handler.

“It’s like a scavenger hunt but the prize isn’t that fun…” For her at least. Apparently, his infestation wasn’t easy to get rid of like most possessions where a preacher yells a little bit and there’s a long, long discussion about consent, “Half of these books are just weird little chants and I cant figure it out.”

Maybe he should give up! But if they did that maybe she wouldn’t figure out what her place in all this weird wickedness was especially since that thing seemed to like talking to her so much.

#tw drug mention #delrcy #sometimes family is a 24 yr old and her weird dog #and her weird dog’s demon

[thefreelanceangel]

Top 5 Relationships (romantic, familial, canon, HC, whatever!)

...oh you would do this to me, you wench.

-stares at the wall- Ugh, does this mean RP relationships??? Canon ones? What we see in game??

!(*%^&!(%*!*$!%&$)!*%(

(1) Dulia-Chai & Chai-Nuzz

Do I really have to explain why I love them? No? I will anyway.

I love love love seeing a happy, healthy marriage in media. Especially when they could've been treated like the typical sitcom marriage of "miserable man run roughshod by his overbearing wife." Nope! Dulia believes in her husband wholeheartedly, supports him, pushes him to succeed when his anxieties threaten to lock him up in place. Chai-Nuzz clearly adores her, lets her push him when he needs it, and looks to her for support and confidence. They're happy together, they're good to each other, and they accept each other, not blindly, but with an awareness of each other's faults that is accepting and loving and supportive.

(2) Feo Ul & the Warrior of Light

Yes, the WoL gets manipulated by the little lunatic. Yes, Feo Ul had how many layers of Plans™ prepared to yank into action at a moment's notice. Yes, we have to suck up like crazy when we need their help.

And I absolutely love it. I love that they're fascinated by mortals, that they appreciate the beauty of a brief, brilliant life. It charms me to hear them call the Warrior of Light "our sapling" while scolding the WoL for being so neglectful. They're charming and funny and demented and I just love it.

(3) Hades & Hythlodaeus (& Azem)

We don't get much of this (not nearly enough) and a lot of what we do get is subtext, a short story by SE, and what little encounters we have with the two Ancients in Endwalker.

And honestly, I can see why Hades would spend aeons mourning the love he lost after that. Having not one but two people who know you so deeply, who can tease you out of a bad mood when you don't necessarily want to be happy but oh well, they're there now, and then losing them? One to what he felt was his highest duty and the other to a disagreement that spiraled into losing them forever?

I'd be mourning that for the rest of my days, too.

(4) Annalei & Seifer d'Latu

Well, the ask doesn't say it can't be RP characters!

They're terrible, and I love them. They're absolutely atrocious people with basically no redeeming qualities, and I love them. They've fought each other tooth and nail for years, have killed each other's lovers, refused to admit how they felt, competed with each other in basically everything, fought back to back, side by side, and with each other all with equal fervor.

Anna is a psychopathic bitch and Seifer is a manipulative, sadistic jackass. They're horrible apart, worse together, and would bring on another Calamity for each other without hesitation. Neither would leave the other behind, even while teasing (in Seifer's case) or complaining (in Anna's) about having to help the other.

I find them endlessly inspiring, fascinating, and a little terrifying.

(5) Thancred Waters & Urianger Augurelt

...they're married, I'm sorry, I can't be persuaded otherwise.

And not even necessarily in a romantic sense (although I'd 100% believe it) but in that they are life partners and friends and support each other, tease each other, have worked together enough to know how to offset each other's weaknesses. It doesn't surprise me at all that they're always pairing up to go adventure.

Wouldn't you choose someone who knew you almost better than you know yourself to be your support, protection, and companionship on an adventure?

(Also c'mon, they're Ryne's dads! IT'S SO OBVIOUS. THEY'RE SO MARRIED.)

#This took me half the night because I kept waffling #I LIKE TOO MANY CHARACTERS IN THIS GAME #FFXIV #Prompts

[rametarin]

well at least they're being more honest about intentions, now.

Been a bit amused at how they've been trying to put Peter Parker out to pasture, because they don't want Spider-Man, the iconic character, to be white anymore.

Miles Morales has his own niche, but it isn't Peter Parker Spider-Man. Any time interest has faltered for Miles, they went and whipped out Peter to come play support for him and have them interact. Which is nice and all, but there are about a million characters that are not as popular as the iconic ones in comics, from all brands.

And it boils down to people that believe themselves to be administers of Culture Itself to having decided The People will kiss the feet of a black/hispanic, or at the very least, not cishetero white male Spider-Man as their hero and icon. And they're kind of mad they can't make that happen, just because they want it to be so.

Where their principles matter more than whether the work they produce or the characters are actually good. Where they define what's good and enforce it so you can't have anything BUT what they say is "good." And if you demand anything else, they accuse you of simply being bigoted, evil or demented.

And when they can't bait&switch to replace the icon, they instead decide to character assassinate to try and make that thing you like be tortured to death on the altar before the fans, metaphorically destroying them so they have no choice but to like the silver or copper winner that the would-be ministers of culture want them to like.

When you play their game enough that eventually they get tired of trying to be clever, strategic, subtle, they'll inevitably upend the table and start trying to force it down your throat. Politely duck and weave that, they'll show their true colors and start berating those whom resist as just hating characters like Miles, "because they're black."

This goes beyond such petty topics as racism or sexual or gender-identity inclusion. It goes into this very wrongheaded view of where culture comes from, what it is, and who has the right to censor, and what censorship is. Censorship that comes from the HR department after they do a circus' worth of mental backflips about how religious right soccer moms have no right to demand tits be censored in media, but they can make you attend weeks of tolerance and diversity training for not saying, "chest feeding."

It's about asserting dominance and expressing power on the assumed basis of protecting people, or even culture itself as a principle. But it's something the majority in America have not been allowed to say, because every dissent gets aikido flipped into a conversation about how white people just don't like being called out for racism or sexism or historical inequalities.

You can't force the public to like sub-standard shit just because you insist it's technically, "entertainment." You can't try to use something people like to gut it, hollow it out and try to make your frankly Courtney Love-ian Yoko Ono garbage appealing.

You can order the entire MCU to come out on stage and have them scream about queer this and "whites are capitalism and bad" that. It just shows you think both the people and cultural practice of chasing coattails and limosines makes you popular, just because you manage to catch up to them. And it also shows you're willing to kill existing, healthy pieces of culture in a hostage situation if they won't support your viral loads by making the continued survival of the things people love dependent on also accepting the stupid shit you graft to them. That's a level of hostility, callousness and obsession that cannot be ignored, and you kill enough peoples sacred cows, eventually they'll understand the ways and means of the heretics.

I only wish I spoke Japanese. I have so much I'd love to say to Japanese fans of western content, but the language barrier is incredible.

#Youtube

[heartofspells]

Gideon and Fabian during HE

Weeeeell. This was...fun. (it actually was. i really like Fabian, and i love exploring his character in this)

We're going to consider this another outtake from Healing Edge, because that's exactly what it is. And with that in mind, behind a cut it goes.

Cw for referenced rape/non-con.

"Bloody Fenwick," mutters Gideon darkly, glowering as Lockhart checks over his healing wrist. "They ought to chuck him from the team. Dangerous, hot-headed fucking cunt. He's lucky he didn't break it, otherwise I would have shoved my foot up his – "

"Shut up, Gideon."

His red head whips up quickly as Lockhart trails away without notice, slipping into the background as he almost always does, there and then forgotten easily. Fabian refuses to look at his brother, eyes fixed on the door instead.

"Sorry, are you talking to me now?" he snipes hostilely. "That's news to me. You've barely said anything to me in weeks, since – "

"Since January?" says Fabian flatly, rounding on the other, staring down at him, his green eyes flashing with warning, but Gideon only sneers, unimpressed, leaning back in his chair, the ease of his demeanor infuriating Fabian further.

Gideon scoffs, a wet sound emerging from the back of his throat, his eyes rolling dramatically in his head as he looks up at the ceiling, almost as though exasperated, irritated. Fabian's nails bite into his palms.

"Is this about fucking Black again?" he utters, tone bored, nearly dismissive.

"Yes, it's about you fucking Black," snarls Fabian, his carefully held control beginning to slip away. He feels something inside him splinter as his brother smirks.

"We didn't get that far last time."

Stepping forward, seething with rage, Fabian's control shatters like glass hitting the floor around their feet. "You mean you didn't get that far," he hisses, "and only because we stopped you before you could. What the hell is wrong with you? Are you so immeasurably warped that you can't see what's wrong with all this?"

"He wanted it," sneers Gideon, launching forward, glaring up at Fabian like a wild animal, a jackal ready to attack.

"He didn't!" roars Fabian, and Gideon appears to falter for only a second in shock, Fabian never shouting for anything, ever, not once in their lives. "He didn't want any of it, and you're more demented than I ever thought if you really think he did. Sirius was staying away from you because you kept grinding that axe, kept circling, and he wanted no part in what you were trying to do, but none of that mattered in the end, did it? You got yours, got him out of the way, except you haven't, Gideon. He's still here and look at the mess you've bred from it all. No one here is on your side, not even the ones you think are. You're alone, just as you deserve."

Staring up at him, Gideon is slow to respond, his eyes darkening as several rapid-fire emotions flare across his features before something nasty settles into place. "Go on, then," he pushes, tongue swiping across his teeth as Fabian watches. "Tell me what you really think, brother."

Fabian shakes his head, something ragged tearing away pieces of his chest, slicing into his heart. "That's not what you are anymore." His voice drops to a harsh whisper. "Brothers don't do the things you have. They support. They give, but all you've ever done is take and take, and I've always given it. You have always gotten exactly what you've wanted, me following along, providing, bending to your will and your needs, and I would have kept doing it to make you happy, but not anymore, Gid. I lost my brother the second you decided to pin Sirius to that shower wall and corrupted yourself more than I could have ever anticipated. And now I'm done. You will never again get what you want, not ever, not if it's the last thing I do."

He sees it in the lines of Gideon's face, that clear betrayal, the wrath building, but Fabian doesn't linger with it, he can't. He turns his back on the other man, departing the room without another word, ignoring Benjy and Frank standing against the wall on the other side of the door as he stalks down the corridor, mind whirring with options, ticking them away until only one remains.

#milestone thing #at the healing edge of broken #fabian prewett #gideon prewett #outtake #ask #answer #britt tag #my writing #holli writes

[just-two-blokes]

Coincidences - A Barris Drabble

This is very short and just a mess. But I wanted to provide some sort of comfort, I guess. *Drops this and runs away*

'Don't you think it's a bit strange that the trains always go on strike when he's on them? The poor man is dogged by bad luck’

Frowning, Phyllis glances at the royal valet, who is sitting next to Mr. Bates at the servants' table, chatting animatedly with him about shoe polish and cufflinks.

Today has been well on the way to being a quiet day at Downton Abbey. And this change would really not have been unwelcomed to Phyllis. The last few days have been haunted by guests and high visits and Phyllis has lost count of how many dresses she has picked out for Lady Grantham these days.

But of course Downton Abbey wouldn't be Downton Abbey if there was even one normal day in the house.

Accordingly, Phyllis's astonishment was limited when there was a knock at the servants' bolted back door just before the servants' dinner that evening. The knock was so soft and hesitant that the Ladys maid at first thought she had only imagined the sound. But as time went by, the knocking not only became louder, but also stronger, and finally Thomas heaved himself out of his chair in the servants' quarters with an annoyed groan and dragged himself towards the door. Phyllis didn't blame the unknown visitor. The grounds of the estates must be completely soaked by now, as constantly and frequently as it has rained in the last week. And from the looks of it, this weather will not change in the next few days. You wouldn’t even send a dog out on the streets in weather like this.

That's why Phyllis couldn't help but gasp in surprise when she recognised the drenched visitor who staggered through the back door like a drenched poodle, Mister Barrow's hand wrapped around his waist for support.

Richard Ellis did not look well at all. His soaked suit clung to him like a second skin and his hair, usually elegantly slicked back, hung like wet curtains across his forehead. His hands, trembling with cold, gripped his hat tightly and his lips were so white that Phyllis wondered for a few seconds if she was not standing face to face with a dead man. Tonelessly he babbled something about a failed train and that he had actually wanted to visit his parents.

Wordlessly, Thomas grabbed Mr. Ellis by his left arm and led him up the stairs into the men's wing. When the two of them came back downstairs twenty minutes later, three very different and, above all, unusual questions settled in Phyllis' mind. Questions that a Ladys maid normally should not concern herself with. But this is Downton Abbey after all.

'Why did the two men spend twenty minutes in complete solitude in the men's wing?'

'What were they doing there in the first place?'

'And why is this now the third time that Mister Ellis has breezed in over the threshold of Downton Abbey unannounced, claiming that his train had been cancelled?

It all seems like an awful lot of bad luck for one man.

But now, an hour later, here at the table in the servants' quarters, Phyllis realises a few things as she watches the guest keenly over the rim of her hot teacup. Perhaps the Ladys maid is not the most clairaudient person in the room. But she doesn't have to be a detective to be able to read the atmosphere in the room around her.

And at this moment there is a lot for Phyllis to read.

Ellis's glances, which keep flickering to the butler at the head of the table between his conversation with Mister Bates.

Mister Barrow's slight but unmistakable smile, which seems to be glued to his lips.

And if this wasn't enough of a clue for Phyllis:

Richard's Ellis eyes, which rest, if only for seconds, on Thomas' lips.

The telltale twitch of the corners of his mouth.

The tongue wetting his dry lips.

With an almost demented grin, Phyllis turns to the housekeeper next to her, who has been watching the whole scene like a morbid play.

‘Oh, Richard Ellis's train didn't fail.’

For a tiny second, she thinks she feels the amused gaze of Richard Ellis on her. But when she turns her attention back to the valet, he is back in the middle of his conversation with Mr Bates.

Perhaps it has just been a trick of the light.

#Downton Abbey #Thomas Barrow #Richard Ellis #Thomas Barrow x Richard Ellis

[the-storytellers-seer]

First Lines Tag

I wandered away for a bit, sorry about that! I've been working hard to counteract all the mostly unpaid medical leave time I had to take. Big oof there. Anyhow! I saw that both @viss-and-pinegar and @rainpebble3 tagged me in this. While I haven't been writing near as much as I ought I do have enough first lines. I'll use all unpublished WIPs.

Who hasn't been tagged? I think I'm getting to this late. If you want me to tag you, let me know!

1 - A Matter of Diplomacy (Working Title) - Unpublished, third planned story that will occur after Heirs of the Throne

Taleine Sero stared down at the body of Ambassador Elenwen with a mixture of relief, terror, and glee. The deceased, blonde, High Elf stared sightlessly up at the ceiling. Her final expression one of fear, now frozen as her death mask.

Tal belated realized she was shaking. Her entire body vibrated like some demented Dwemer invention. The quiet snick of the door opening was as loud as a dragon roar even past the blood rushing in her ears. Tal jumped about a foot in the air.

The figure in the doorway was tall and garbed in pristine Thalmor robes. It took them all of a heartbeat to survey the situation. Tal glanced up guiltily into the shocked face of Commander Ondolemar who quickly shut the door behind him. They locked eyes: his a furious greenish golden to her terrified stormy grey.

“I swear it wasn’t me.” Tal whispered in a small, breathy voice that sounded nothing like her own normal brassy tone.

2 - Dov (Working Title) - Unpublished, fifth planned story in the "series".

Kieva sat in the remains of Brother Borri’s sixty-year mead stash and let loose a great echoing belch that was similar in timbre to a dragon’s roar. It was followed by a rather high-pitched giggle. Around her, the world passed by in a dreamy haze. She was happy or damn near close to it. Happier than she’d been in months. Or at least happier than she’d be without the alcohol’s blessed numbing effects.

Perched upon a throne made of boxes and dirty laundry, she was the queen of all she surveyed. This primarily consisted of empty shelves and even emptier bottles, but at least they were subjects that didn’t expect anything of her. They didn’t look at her and see her father’s features or assume she would have her mother’s grace. And they wouldn’t be disappointed when they found nothing of the dynasty they expected to see in her behavior.

In a family of legends, Kieva Stormcrown was a failure.

3 - Untitled - Unpublished: a random prompt challenge with two OCs

The man lying before her was dying. Although Runa was in no way a healer, she’d seen enough death in her time as a mercenary and the sickly-sweet smell of decay was unmistakable. Runa sucked in her lower lip and considered just passing by and letting the gods decide. Attempting to drag the man back from death’s door would be vastly more painful than letting him slip away and there was no guarantee her attempts would even be successful. Besides all that, he was an Imperial soldier and while she didn’t expressly support Ulfric Stormcloak’s opinions, she preferred not to let the Dominion via their puppet Imperial Army gain a foothold in her home.

She might have walked on then, but the man groaned and squinted up at her. His eyes were the blue of the Winter sky, and they fought past the pain to focus on her. She felt him take her measure. Saw him catalogue her worn, fur trimmed armor, braided blonde tresses, and amulet of Talos displayed proudly on her breast. He tried to wet his chapped dry lips, failed, but croaked out, “Please…help.”

“Molag’s balls.” She swore.

She couldn’t just leave him now. She bent down and began to tug him off the road and into the woods. She didn’t mean to tug him through every sticker bush from the road to the clearing, but the man was damned heavy and if he’d wanted to avoid bushes, he ought to have picked a different savior or collapsed near a better section of forest.

#tes v skyrim #tag game #first lines #fanfiction