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rendy-a · 1 year ago

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Hey, um hi! I'm new here, nice to meet you, sorry I'm a bit awkward with requests

So, Could we have some of the Self aware AU with Idia and Sebek? It can be whatever you want, a headcanon or a mini one shot, whichever you prefer more^^

Thank you ahead!

~~~🌟🎃

The interesting thing with Self Aware AU is that you can write it like the game characters are aware of you as you play or you can write where the player is isekai’d into the game and everyone knows about it. Last time, I had written it in the perspective of playing the game irl. I thought this time, I’d write it as though the player was somehow drawn into the game. Hope you enjoy it.

Remember, the Self-Aware AU is a yandere AU!

When you’d awoken inside your favorite phone game…well, you’d freaked out. But then! You’d made one rule; never mention the game to any character. It was just strange. Plus, you weren’t sure how they’d react! It was a rule you’d managed to follow, until today.

You, like the character Yuu in your game, were a first-year student at NRC. As much as you’d liked to have avoided all the game characters to prevent triggering any dangerous events, you shared class with Ace and Deuce (plus lived with Grim). Over time, you’d been pulled into lunches and joint classes with all the first-year students. Thankfully, the first-year students weren’t where the problem was. That was with the Housewardens and you avoided them in every situation possible. You were relieved that the plot of the game had you living in such a remote dorm and excused you from attending any sort of club activities.

And yet, you sometimes wished you would meet the characters. It would be so cool to talk to your favorites, see them in actual real life! Only, you were also pretty sure the minute you came face-to-face, you’d say something embarrassing or stupid. Like you did when you met Ace and Deuce. You still cringe when you remember calling them the ‘single braincell duo’ to their faces. Yes, it was probably for the best that you took isolated halls to class to avoid the seniors. You wouldn’t want to turn the corner and ACK!

You rolled over from where you’d fallen and gazed up to see who or what you’d collided with. You recoiled in horror as nebulous blue flames made patterns across your vision. “What kind of ridiculous anime situation is this. Real people should look at where they are going in the hall. This place needs a mini-map to avoid NPC’s like this. I can’t believe on the one day I have to attend class in person some extrovert is lurking in my quiet hallway…” He hadn’t looked up from where he’d fallen but you could tell in an instant that you’d triggered some rare event and encountered a wild Idia.

You spend this small moment wondering if you should pretend to know him or not. He’s a Housewarden, so you should probably know who he is, right? But at the same time, he never leaves Ignihyde, so how would you know him? Maybe you should pretend to not know him. “It’s you,” a small voice interrupts your dilemma. You look up at Idia in surprise only to find a matching expression of surprise on his face. Then his mouth parts slightly and a string of words emerges. “What should I do? I didn’t prepare for this event. I’m not ready to meet my Oshi in person. How do I trigger the correct dialog option here? I’m going to get a death flag; I just know it…”

He says a lot of things, but one thing catches your attention: Oshi. Were you somehow Idia’s favorite? That can’t be, right? You let out a giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Idia’s eyes grow large, and he shrinks back at the sound, started to hear it coming from your mouth. “Don’t be so nervous Idia. Nothing bad is going to happen,” you say softly. When you speak to him, Idia loses control of himself and starts talking rapidly, “Of course! If the Player says so, then it is so. They are so amazing, like limited SSR class amazing. I don’t deserve to even be in their presence. They are probably thinking, who is this gloomy weirdo with the fire hair? Why is he dressed so strange, he probably doesn’t have any fashion sense.”

“That’s not true!” you shout, “I remember when your Ghost Marriage card came out! Oh my gosh! It looked so cool! It was totally my favorite card. I had to pull 200 times to get it!” Then you abruptly stop, realizing you’ve said too much when Idia’s hair turns completely pink. “I…I’m just going to go,” you say as you cover your face in embarrassment and walk back around the corner the way you had arrived.

The students of Ignihyde gave Idia a wide berth as he returned to the dorm. No one dared approach him while his hair flickered so violently from gentle pink to blazing red. Idia himself seemed entirely unaware of the bizarre show he was putting on. He continued mumbling and giggling to himself all the way back to his room. When he finally found the solitude of his inner sanctuary, he jumped on his bed and hugged his Player-print body pillow. “Hee Hee Hee!” he laughs out loud for no one to hear but himself. “I did it. I meet my Oshi!” Then he rolls over onto his back and stares dreamily into the ceiling, “They knew who I was. That must mean something. Maybe, this is fate?”

There was only one rule all the inhabitants of Twisted Wonderland had; don’t interfere with the Player. It was a rule he’d managed to follow, until today. Today, Fate intervened. If Fate wanted you two to be together, who was Idia to argue? As he stared at the ceiling, Idia’s engineering brain went into gear planning designs for a place he could take you where no one else could reach. A place where you’d finally be alone, with only him. Just like Fate had planned.

Over time, you’d noticed that the residents of Twisted Wonderland treated you differently. You remembered the first time you heard Crowley tell the aggravated student body he’d assigned weekend cleaning duty to all students to clean up the campus for their use…because he was so kind. While all around you, students started grumbling, you’d burst out laughing. When everyone had started looking at you, you’d choked off your laugh and covered your face. “Sorry, he just…he said the thing,” you managed to get out between smothered chuckles.

No one ever called you out on your strange behavior. It was like they all collectively got together and decided that you were allowed to behave in any way you chose. They, on the other hand, often seemed to struggle with deciding if they should act normally in your presence or not. The number of times you’d slipped into a room of rowdy students to have the conversation cut off into a silent awe was alarming. Today was just another example.

You’d gotten back after a class and lay in your bed, bored. You’d think that being pulled into your favorite game would give you endless entertainment but, after a time, it just settled into being exactly like school in your world. The only difference is you occasionally went out looking for locations or characters in the game, like a sort of anime pilgrimage. Sometimes, you’d been caught in awkward situations, but you’d just sort of nod and say, “This all looks fine,” and leave. No one has ever called you out on your intrusions. So…you just felt free to invite yourself anywhere you were curious to go. Today, you thought about things you were interested in and decided that you’d go to some of the clubs to find out what the club uniforms looked like. After all, not all those cards were released; it’s like the ultimate preview!

You were almost used to the way things fell silent when you entered the stable yard. Members of the Horseback Riding Club stopped what they were doing to stare at you. Those who faced away noticed the attention of their fellows and turned to see you before they too, fell silent. In almost no time at all, they had casually circled you, as though waiting for you to hand out some sort of instruction or give a speech. You rubbed your head and thought, guess it’s time to break out the old ‘nothing to see here’ and bounce. Before you could though, a call broke the silence. “HUMAN!”

You turned toward the sound, an eager expression coming over you. Were you about to experience the famous rants of Sebek? As you hoped, Sebek was loudly berating students at the outer edges of the semi-circle for their inattention during club activities. You eased yourself forward, hoping to catch sight of him. No one tried to bar your way, parting before you as you progressed. You easily reached his side and leaned forward to watch his antics. Suddenly, he turns and grabs onto YOU! “HUMAN, YOU AREN’T EVEN DRESSED YET! THIS SORT OF SLOVENLY BEHAVIOR…” and then he trails off as he looks at your face and you can see the awareness fall over him.

His eyes go wide, and he immediately let’s go of your shoulder, visibly taken aback. He stammers and you imagine you even see tears gathering in his eyes. You think to yourself, time to find a way out of this before things get even worse. “I…I’m here for an inspection…” you say carefully. All the gathered students listen intently, standing just a touch straighter. “Sebek, I have decided…I have decided to see how many push-ups you can do in a minute.” It made no sense, and you knew it made no sense. You wondered if this would finally be the time someone calls you on your BS but instead, Sebek perks up to an extreme degree. “YES, OF COURSE! RIGHT AWAY!” he bellows.

You stand at his side as he begins, pretending to care far more than you do about the results of this demonstration. Honestly, it is impressive. The speed at which he sets out to complete the exercises is extreme. You wonder for a moment just what sort of training Lilia DOES give to Sebek and Silver to get them to this level of fitness. When he is finished with the allotted minute, he jumps to attention, standing much as you’d imagine he does on guard over Malleus. You give it a moment and then say, “Yes, that will suffice. You may all return to your duties now.” Having ordered the students to depart, they comply with a surprising speed. They all still watch you but now they do it while pretending to be engaged in filling buckets with water or looking over curry combs.

You give one final nod to Sebek and say, “Good job,” before you walk away. That was more than enough excitement for one night. You’d rather spend the rest of the evening in Ramshackle than deal with any more things like this tonight. Behind you, Sebek watches you go in awe. You praised him; you told him he did a good job. Before you quite got out of earshot, you heard one last shout, “SILVER WAKE UP! THEY PRAISED ME, THE PLAYER PRAISED ME!” You laughed to yourself, what a strange world this was.

That evening in Diasomnia, Sebek carefully pulled his portrait of Malleus off the wall. Nestled behind it was a photograph of the Player. He gazed at it reverently. They’d spoken to him today; praised him even. He wasn’t yet over it. He thinks we will never get over it. He places your photo next to his pillow as he lays down to sleep. In the morning, he’ll put it back behind the portrait. He’d not dare to change his room’s layout from what the Player knows! But for tonight, he’d fall asleep to your face and the remembrance of your voice. Someday…maybe he’d not even need to use a photograph. ‘NO!’ he tells himself sternly, ‘the Player is not for you!’ And yet, some dark corner of his mind tells him that ‘good job’ is just a small step away from ‘I love you.’

#twst #self aware au #twisted wonderland #yandere twst #tw: yandere #yandere idia x reader #yandere idia shroud #yandere sebek x reader #yandere sebek zigvolt

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ihavemanyhusbands · 6 months ago

Text

Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)

PART THREE: THE HERO ALWAYS GETS THE GIRL

Also on AO3

Part One // Part Two // Mini-Series Masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Latina!Reader (Spanish speaking)

WC: 5.9k words

Chapter Summary: It was always meant to end up this way, wasn't it? Some things never changed.

Warnings: Minors DNI this fic is 18+, canon typical violence, reader kidnapped by raiders, the ghoul being the ghoul, cursing, some injuries (very mild whump), mentions of death/loss, heavyyyy angst (happy ending tho!), only a little Spanish dialogue, love confession, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (fem receiving), irradiated creampie (with RadAway after lol), aaaaand that's all I can think of but please lmk if I missed anything!

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In the Past….

You had been restless all day, unable to explain why. Something just didn’t feel right, and not knowing what it was made you feel even worse.

Your house had felt large and empty as you paced around it, smoking. All those long hours, you were acutely aware of the clock’s ticking — Time relentlessly marching on, waiting for no one.

Once you’d actually gone to bed, you’d tossed and turned long into the night. The moon shone faintly through a gap between the curtains, barely illuminating your bedroom. You could not face the yawning void of solitude you found at that hour, so you got up.

Things had gotten much trickier in a short amount of time. There had been many more bomb drills, more fear and paranoia, and substantially fewer job opportunities.

Cooper was no longer acting. He simply wouldn’t get cast anymore, so he had to look in other directions. The loss was tremendous, for yourself and the industry. Moviemaking didn’t quite feel the same anymore, its luster having faded.

You saw him much less, but you still tried to keep in touch. You’d even helped him care for Janey a few times when he had to take an odd gig that would run late. Slowly, he was becoming a shell of the man he formerly was, and you felt helpless to stop it.

But that night, you couldn’t hold yourself back, leaving your house in just a coat and your night dress, like a ghostly apparition. The drive there was nebulous, like you were moving on autopilot. You drifted up the steps and pressed the buzzer to his apartment a few times.

When he came down to see who was at the door, he looked a little worse for wear, like he’d been having a hard time sleeping, too. He ushered you inside, not wanting you to be out in the cold.

“What happened?” Cooper said, worriedly searching you for any sign of injury. “It’s the middle of the night, why didn’t you telephone?”

“I’m so sorry, Coop,” you said, as if waking up from a trance. “Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head, leading you to the old, rickety elevator and pressing the button to his floor.

“No, I was up. Lucky you didn’t wake Janey, though. She’s with me this weekend.”

You covered your face with your hands, ashamed. “Oh God, I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, worrying even more at your clear distress. He guided you to his unit, which was smaller than you’d imagined. It’d been a while since Cooper and Barb’s sudden divorce, but he barely seemed to be settling in. The walls were mostly bare, and the sparse furniture seemed to have been included with the unit. There were only a few pictures, mostly of him and Janey, but a few of just his daughter.

He had never really told you what happened, but the change had seemingly occurred overnight. He simply said he was done, that he couldn’t even look at her anymore. You were still pretty baffled about the whole thing, but it wasn’t your business to pry about. You simply supported him however you could.

Barb had not gone easy on him, having the best lawyers Vault-Tec could afford. He had Janey some weekends, but he didn’t get to see her nearly enough. It was a bad situation altogether, and you were sad for everyone involved.

“Cozy,” was all you could whisper after a moment of silence, to which he snorted derisively.

You went to sit on the couch, arms around yourself. The two of you kept your voices soft so as not to wake Janey, and you felt a pang in your chest knowing she was near. She was such a bright ray of sunshine, and you were glad that she and Cooper had each other despite everything.

And especially on a night like that one, when the world seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation of something.

“Drink?” He offered, already pouring himself a glass of scotch in the small kitchen.

You nodded, sniffling, trying to keep the tears that threatened to crawl up your throat at bay. He shuffled back over to you, a frown still on his face.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” He encouraged, handing you the glass and sitting next to you on the couch.

How could you possibly explain the feeling of grief you had, when you hadn’t really lost anyone?

Not yet, at least.

“I don’t know, I just… I had to see you,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “I didn’t even think about it, I just got in the car and drove.”

“Well, ain’t that sweet,” he chuckled, the sound a little awkward. “But it couldn’t wait until morning?”

“No, Coop, I can’t even explain it. If I tried, I’m sure you’d think I’m crazy.”

“Try me,” he said. “You know you can trust me.”

You set your glass down and scanned his features for a moment, committing them to memory. Then, without a word, you leaned in and brought your lips to his chastely.

You had kissed dozens of times in the past, but for the first time, it was as yourselves. Love was the only thing you could give him then. Years worth of it had accumulated inside of you, with nowhere to go… until that moment.

But your heart was breaking at the same time. Instinctively, you realized this would be your only opportunity to do so. Tears swam in your vision, but you turned your face away before he could see the one that escaped.

Cooper blinked, too stunned to react. You sniffled, pulling back, hands wringing anxiously. He shook his head, snapping out of it.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, hands cupping your face. “I ain’t that bad of a kisser, am I?”

You let out a sad little chuckle, which sounded more like a sob.

I love you, you wanted to say. I love you, I love you, te amo con todo mi corazón*. Please find a way to live, whatever happens.

(*I love you with all my heart)

“Please, take care of yourself,” you pleaded softly instead. “Give little Janey a kiss from me.”

And with that, you got up from the couch and left him like a thief in the night. He’d called for you, but you’d been faster, running down the stairs and heading back to your car. You simply couldn’t handle it anymore. The waiting, the fretting, feeling so fucking helpless… Wouldn’t it be better just to get it all over with?

The rest of the night blurred into a gouache rendition of melancholy and self pity. In the morning, as soon as you were able, you phoned Bud Askins — the Vault-Tec executive who had organized your admission into Vault thirty one — to ask for an expedited entry.

And just as he picked up the phone, you looked out the window and saw the enormous, fiery mushroom cloud rising as if from the depths of hell itself.

——————————————

The Present….

“There she is,” one of the raiders pointed at the old TV screen, where one of your movies was playing. “No wonder she looked so goddamn familiar. Got ourselves a movie star, boys.”

“Gotta be a clone or somethin’, no way she’s lived this long,” another one said.

“What does it matter? Whoever buys her won’t be able to tell the difference. Fresh meat’s hard to come by, and this is the luxury kind,” the first one gruffed, looking back at you over his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

You could only glare at him from your spot against the wall. You were gagged, your ankles and wrists bound by old rope. Two days had passed, in which the raiders hadn’t done much other than tie you up and haul you around. You’d gotten a few scraps of food, but not nearly enough to even be considered a snack. Thirst and hunger clung to your very bones, but you were lucky that your survival instincts had kept you going so far.

You might not have been a fighter before, but now you were determined to keep yourself alive at all costs. It hadn’t taken long for you to realize that things were truly ruthless in the wasteland, and it all basically narrowed down to kill or be killed.

You weren’t sure yet if you’d be able to go through with something like that, but you had no other choice but to try if it came down to it.

You were still holding out hope that the ghoul would come find you, but you were well aware that you couldn’t just rely on that possibility. You were running low on time, unsure of how long exactly the potential transaction would take to complete. Or if they would grow tired of searching for buyers and try to possess you themselves.

You would not let it get to that, though. You were just trying to devise the least recklessly foolish escape plan possible.

The raiders had holed up in an old supermarket, which seemed to be their usual base. Most of the empty, broken shelves had been pushed against the walls to make space for whatever furniture they had managed to find. A few shelves surrounded the space like a makeshift barrier, shielding the rest of the building from view.

Rations, old clothes and other miscellaneous objects were scattered about carelessly, but you didn’t notice many weapons, which was potentially a good sign. More valuable loot was stashed in empty freezers, and you were frankly surprised they hadn’t tried to shove you in one, too.

The raiders went back to watching the movie, your own voice sounding strange and faraway to your ears. And then… you heard Cooper’s voice, that southern drawl bringing your attention to the screen. It was the scene of his Feo, Fuerte y Formal speech, when his enemy was at his feet.

Though the screen was riddled with static, you could still see the determined look on his face. Hearing his voice again gave you strength, but it also gave you pause. Why did it feel like it hadn’t been that long since you’d last heard it?

You thought back to the day you’d been abducted, still unsure if you had hallucinated the ghoul screaming your name. Even his voice had sounded different there, but not unfamiliar – more like a dream that had slowly devolved into a nightmare.

There was a nagging feeling at the back of your head that wouldn’t let you rest until you had some answers, but it would all have to wait for a later time.

For the next hour or so, you slowly moved your wrists back and forth in an attempt to loosen the ropes. You went still whenever any of them looked at you – like a deer in headlights, sweat trickling down your spine – but luckily, none of them seemed aware of your actions.

At some point, you had to fully stop as most of them prepared to go out scavenging, leaving only one man behind to guard you.

“Shouldn’t give you much trouble, but you know what to do if she does,” the leader had said, looking right at you with a shit-eating grin.

But the raider left in charge hadn’t seemed too worried about you being a threat, falling asleep on one of the couches soon after they had left. When your wrists were rubbed raw and bloody by the rope, you soldiered through the pain until adrenaline kicked in, and you managed to loosen the knots enough to free one of your hands.

You swallowed down the nausea that crawled up your throat at the sight of your mangled skin. Keeping one eye on the sleeping raider, you began to attempt untying your ankles, but then you heard a crash at the front of the building. The raider woke up with a start and you had a millisecond to hide your hands behind your back once more.

“What the fuck was that?” he muttered, looking around frenziedly.

You shrugged helplessly, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he stood, grabbing a weapon. You whimpered, momentarily fearing he might use it to prod you further, but he stayed put.

“You better not try any stupid shit, alright?” He said, pointing it at you in warning.

You nodded quickly and he crept around a shelf, disappearing from view. It was eerily silent after that, except for your blood thundering in your ears. You waited for him to return, unmoving, for what seemed like an eternity.

There were a few more sounds somewhere out front, but you couldn’t quite discern what they were. Still, you didn’t really want to wait around and find out. Who knew if you’d get another opportunity like this?

But just as you decided to push your luck and reached for your ankles, you heard footsteps. And with those footsteps, there was the familiar, faint clinking of spurs that you had come to know.

The ghoul suddenly rounded the corner, holding the raider’s bloodied machete, which matched the blood spattering his clothes. Talk about a guardian angel, you thought, somehow finding humor to keep yourself from absolute hysteria – even as your eyes welled with overwhelmed tears. A muffled sound escaped your throat, but there was still tape covering your mouth, so all you could do was widen your eyes.

“There y’are,” he said with what seemed to be a relieved grin, but it was short-lived. “Oughta kill you myself for makin’ me go through all that trouble to find you…”

He crouched in front of you to free you from your binds, tossing the weapon aside. You gasped as he ripped the tape from your face, momentarily glaring at him for his lack of gentleness. But your own relief outweighed any frustration you felt, and without thinking you threw yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

He froze, feeling the jackrabbit pace of your heart against his chest. The breathed-out thank you in his ear almost gave him goosebumps, but he kept himself composed. You yourself couldn’t believe that you were so elated to see him, having been terrified of him only a week prior.

But now it didn’t seem to matter, because even if he groused about having to do the work, he had still come to find you.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that,” he said, shoving you back. “Get up, we gotta get outta here before the rest of ‘em come back.”

He hauled you onto your feet, steadying you when you almost stumbled into him. You glanced at the TV, where the movie had been paused on a close-up shot of Cooper.

You hesitated, suddenly transfixed by an emotion that was getting close to realization. The ghoul followed your line of sight and grimaced, averting his gaze.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” You said, the words spilling before you’d even thought them through. “How ironically familiar it all is, in a fucked up way.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. When you looked over at him, something ill-concealed in his expression confirmed things without him having to say anything.

His eyes hadn’t changed… how did you not see it before?

You took a step closer and that seemed to snap him out of it.

“No idea what you’re goin on’ about,” he gruffed, turning away. “Now get movin’ or I’ll tie you to my belt and herd you like cattle. Andale!”

You pursed your lips at his stubbornness but trailed after him. You watched his back, hunting for more details to further reassure yourself you weren’t crazy — His posture, the way he walked, his strong shoulders squared proudly, as if in preparation for whatever came.

There was still so much to say, but first, you had to get as far away from this serpent’s nest as possible.

On the way, he found an old tire iron, tested its heft, and then handed it to you. At least, it seemed less daunting than a knife or a machete, and arguably less bloody. The world might be a cruel place, but he would try to help minimize the blow as much as he could. In his own way, of course.

He pushed out of the secret entrance at the side of the building, and you almost slammed into his back as he abruptly stopped.

“Well, fancy seeing you here boys,” he said before you could even ask what was wrong, and a stone seemed to drop into your stomach. “Jus’ came to collect what’s rightfully mine. We’ll be on our way now.”

“Like hell you are,” came the barked reply.

You peered around him and saw only a handful of the raiders, the leader nowhere in sight. Somehow, that made you relax a little, the odds slightly more favorable. Not that you didn’t believe the ghoul could handle the whole group, but you just didn’t want to take your chances.

“Oh, yeah? And who’s gonna stop me? You?” The ghoul drew his revolver before anyone else could react, firing a shot directly at the raider’s head. “Whoops, I guess it ain’t gonna be him, after all.”

A stunned moment passed before the raiders were all launching themselves at him. You pressed back against the wall, watching how the ghoul moved with a swift, deadly grace. Two were down before they even knew what was happening.

You moved from your spot to try to find some cover in case any stray bullets flew by you. Crouching by some rusted oil barrels, you kept your eyes on the action, listening to the ghoul laughing at a failed attack.

Then you noticed movement elsewhere. While he was facing off another three of them, a raider that had broken off from the rest was slowly inching closer behind the ghoul’s back.

Yelling out a warning would probably hinder more than help him, so you took a deep, fortifying breath and crept behind the raider. You tried to keep control of your breathing as you got closer, taking deliberate steps. You adjusted your grip on your weapon a few times, your palms sweating like never before.

But just as you closed the distance between you and raised the tire iron over your head, one of the other raiders yelled Watch out!

Still, you swung, striking him right across the temple with a sickening crack. He crumpled, knocked out cold, and everything moved quickly after that.

In all the distraction, the ghoul dove forward and sank his knife into the nearest raider’s stomach. Then he turned them both around, using him as a shield before he shot the other two raiders.

Once they were all on the ground, he looked at you over his shoulder and grinned.

“Well, well, look at you watchin’ my back for me,” he said, seemingly impressed. “Doesn’t make us quite even, but getting closer.”

You let out a breathy laugh, but your mouth suddenly filled with saliva, and you had to keep yourself from throwing up. All of the day’s events were starting to catch up to you, and adrenaline could only keep you on your feet for so long.

“Can we just uh… please?” You said, gesturing into the distance vaguely. “If I don’t eat something soon, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

He sighed, jerking his head to one side in a motion for you to follow. “Better hope there’s still rations in your pack, then, ‘cus I ain’t a free meal ticket.”

———————————————-

You slept for what felt like days, waking up disoriented to find the afternoon sun high in the sky. You rolled onto your back, wiping away the drool that had trickled out of the corner of your mouth. You were sure you looked just as terrible as you felt, but it was the least of your worries at that moment.

The abandoned parking structure you’d camped out at was cool and shaded, the wind blowing through it. It’d been dark by the time the two of you had found it, and you could only remember wolfing down some food before promptly passing out.

Your wrists had been bandaged at some point, a small courtesy from the ghoul. Proof once again that he cared, despite his tough, biting exterior. The warmth you felt in your chest reminded you of what was still pending between you, and how it could wait no longer.

You sat up and looked around, gathering your bearings. He wasn’t too far away, standing at the other end of the lot with his back to you. He was looking off into the distance, lost in thought.

You watched him for a moment, wondering what was going through his mind. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, your thoughts were running parallel.

Only one way to find out.

You got up, wincing at the deep ache in your muscles. You started to shamble over to him, but you only reached halfway before you were no longer brave enough to get any closer.

“Cooper,” you called, voice tremulous. “… It is you, isn’t it?”

The ghoul turned around slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He was quiet for a moment, for once seemingly afraid to meet your gaze.

“Still stubborn as a mule, aren’t’cha?” he said, trying to mask the nostalgia in his voice with wry humor.

You let out an amused huff. “Always drove the producers crazy.”

“Well, it wasn’t just them.”

Finally, he looked up at you, his gaze much softer than they’d been the past few days. At that moment – despite the ravages of time, radiation, and even misery – you could still see the Cooper you had always known. And while you were elated by the revelation, your heart also hurt to think he had undergone so much by himself, losing who he was in the process.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, knowing it was likely a selfish question. “From the beginning?”

“I never… thought you would see me like this,” he said, swallowing hard. “After that night, when the bombs were dropped, I didn’t know what happened to you. I just assumed you were…”

“Dead,” you finished for him. “I thought the same about you.”

Silence hung heavily for a moment, and you weren’t sure if you should move or not.

“What about your family?” You asked, bracing for the worst.

“Lost,” he said simply, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I got Janey to one of the vault’s on time, but there was no space left for me.”

His pain was palpable, making your heart shatter anew. But how to take it away from him? It was impossible to just erase all that had happened, but you could at least help him shoulder the burden.

“Cooper…” you breathed, finally closing the remaining distance between you.

He shifted uncomfortably, angling his head away. You reached up to gently cup his face, making him look at you.

“A face not even a mother could love, ain’t it?” He murmured, braced for whatever reaction you’d have to him now.

He expected disgust and rejection, but that was far from what you felt then – A yearning so deep you feared it would fully consume you. The world had fucking ended already, so why not confess how you felt? Nothing worse could happen if you did.

“My feelings for you have remained intact for more than two hundred years, Cooper. You really think this is going to change my mind?”

He blinked in surprise, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you were lying. You merely smiled, open and earnest, letting him digest your words.

“That night, when you kissed me… My mind was all over the place. I didn’t know what to think, what to say, but you ran away before I could even try.” He chuckled weakly at the memory. “Somehow, I felt it was a long time comin’, but a part of me never thought it was possible.”

“I’m sorry it was all I could give you then,” you whispered, and he placed a hand over one of yours. “If only we had known…”

“Say the words for me, will you?” He rasped, face inching closer to yours. “I won’t believe it until you say it.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I love you, Cooper Howard. I loved you before, and I love you now, just as you are.”

“You sure about that?” He said, but his resolve was crumbling. “Not much room for love in places like this, especially with folks like me.”

“We’ll just have to make room for it then.”

He raised his hairless eyebrows, both pleased and amused at your conviction.“Just like that, hmm?”

One of his arms snaked around your waist slowly, pressing you closer to him. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, desirous. The fire he saw in them ignited him as well — A long lost feeling that was returning to the surface with a vengeance.

“Bésame,” you sighed, mere seconds before his lips were melding against yours.

You kissed with an almost frantic desperation, tightly clinging onto each other. It was the kind of kiss you had always dreamt of — devouring and insatiable, eager to fuse together.

His hands were curious but hesitant, roaming up to your ribcage and down to your hips, but no further. You grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your chest, not only as permission, but also so he could feel how your heart pounded for him.

His own longing overflowed, clouding his senses. A part of him had still been unwilling to believe you could actually love — much less tolerate — what he had become. But when you moaned softly into his mouth, he knew he was a lost cause.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t very good with words that weren’t scripted. But fortunately for you, there were other ways he could demonstrate his devotion.

You arched into his touch as he palmed one of your breasts, a low sound in his throat. He moved to kiss your neck, lavishing your collarbone with his tongue. He wanted to kiss you all over, but he would need to get you bare first.

You let him tug your blouse over your head, his gloves subsequently coming off. His hands were calloused as they returned to touch your skin. The tips of his fingers teased the waistband of your pants, and he smirked as you frowned up at him.

“What? I wanna enjoy every moment of this,” he drawled, eyes dipping lower to watch your chest heave. “So many times I tried to imagine how I would do this. Sometimes I would unwrap you like a present… Others, well, let’s jus’ say I was like a coyote getting ahold of a chicken.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the morbid description, strangely not put off by it. “How romantic. I’m still trying to decide how I’ll take yours off.”

He shifted, something like panic flashing in his eyes for the briefest second. “Hold your horses, sweetheart. I ain’t done with you yet.”

You understood his hesitance immediately, deciding not to push it for the time being. You had years of patience under your belt, and his trust was something you did not mind earning again. He removed only his duster, draping it on the floor.

He undid your belt and knelt in front of you as you wiggled your hips to help him take your pants off. There was a puff of warm breath against your navel a second before he planted a kiss on it. You shuddered as his teeth snagged the hem of your panties, pulling them down.

There was a noticeable wet spot on the fabric, which made him groan. His cock was straining against his pants already, but he wanted to focus on you first.

“Come here, you,” he rasped, grasping your hips and bringing you down with him.

As soon as you were on your back, his mouth was on you again. He’d wanted to feast his eyes first, to take you in in your full glory, but he found he couldn’t keep himself detached from you for too long.

He kept his promise, slowly working his way around. You surrendered to his adoration with ease, every caress and every kiss awakening every part of you. At some point, you reached a level of sensitivity that had you whimpering at the slightest touch. The light sting of his teeth on your nipples sent electricity straight to your core.

He lost himself in your smell and your warmth and your softness – a supplicant finally worshiping at his sacred temple. When his mouth finally sealed over your clit, your back arched off the floor, taut as a bow.

“Cooper,” you gasped, delirious with lust. “Please, I-I need… Let me touch you, something, please!”

He shushed you gently, arms wrapping around your legs. “Just lie back and let me take care of you, darlin’.”

You wished you could say you lasted some time under his ministrations, but you came with embarrassing ease. That first orgasm hit you like an avalanche, sweeping throughout your whole body. You clapped a hand over your mouth as you cried out, not wanting to be too loud and potentially attract unwanted attention.

He let out a faint chuckle, lapping up your release with gusto and nearly making you come a second time. He found he especially liked teasing your clit with quick little flicks of his tongue, your moans higher pitched. You tried squirming away from him, nearing overstimulation.

“You’re killing me, Coop!” You couldn’t help but giggle hysterically, pushing at his head. “Por favor!”

He pulled back, grinning roguishly as he licked his glistening lips. “What can I say? Seems I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then take me already,” you pleaded. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He needed no further convincing. He unhooked his arms from your legs and his body slid upwards until your faces were level. He was quick to undo his pants and push them down, bending down to kiss you as he took his cock in one hand, stroking it.

You brought your knees up to his sides as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Slowly, he pushed inside of you, leaning his forehead against yours so he could see your reactions. Brows furrowed, mouth slack, cheeks flushed – you were the prettiest picture, in his eyes.

“That’s it,” he exhaled as he buried himself to the hilt. “Takin’ me so good, like you were made just for me.”

“You’ve a-already made it clear th-that I’m yours,” you said with a teasing little smile that you could barely hold as he started to move.

He remembered his words to the raiders, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I did say somethin’ like that, didn’t I? Guess it must be true, then.”

His strokes were long and slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you. His eyes were fixed on your face, drinking in your features and reassuring himself that it was not a dream. He knew he wouldn’t last too long either, for all he teased you about it.

He started going faster, the snap of his hips harsher, as you begged for it. Pleasure was overtaking him, wiping his mind clear of everything that wasn’t the present moment. Your name left his lips like a prayer, his eyes heavy lidded and glazed over with ecstasy.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he moaned. “I-I love you. Fuck, I love you.”

You clung to him, afraid that if your heart went any faster, it might stop altogether. Soon enough, he felt you tightly squeezing around him, and he knew you were close once again. He was right there with you, driven by your pleasure, and then you pulled him in for a kiss.

He felt you tremble under him as you came, the intensity not letting you make more than a small, choked sound. With a long, rough groan and a deep thrust, he spilled inside of you. Lost in a feverish oblivion, having forgotten when the last time he’d experienced it was… if at all. No drop was wasted, in the end.

During the comedown, you lay there panting, his added weight on top of you comforting. You looked at each other and laughed, elated at the whole thing. It felt like no time had passed at all, somehow.

“Tryin’ to steal my soul already,” he said, a fondness in his voice that made your stomach flutter. “Hold on, I need to get some RadAway in ya.”

Breathing heavily, he slowly pulled out of you and got to his knees. He tucked himself away and reached for his pack. He pulled out a yellow IV bag, which you recognized from Bud’s few lessons about the wasteland. You hadn’t even thought about it until then, but you were immensely grateful he had been prepared.

He hooked you onto it delicately and slumped back down beside you, lying sideways. You grinned, snuggling closer to him. His fingers traced lazy circles on your belly as he looked down at you, adoring.

The real world slowly crept into the edges of your mind, anxiety at being separated from him suddenly spiking. Now that you had him, there was no way you would just let him go.

“I don’t know what I should do now,” you confessed, voice low. “I know I want you, and I want to be with you, but what about New Vegas? Do you think they’d send someone to look for me?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. It’s very possible, you never know. You’re more valuable than you realize, and I ain’t just sayin’ that ‘cus I’m biased.”

You snorted, shoving him playfully, but he continued. “But… I think I should still take you there. My sort of lifestyle in the wasteland ain’t for you, darlin’. I almost lost you once already, very stupidly.”

“That was my fault, though,” you said, pained at the guilt in his voice for not being able to protect you.

“Everybody makes mistakes. You could make a hundred more, but one of ‘em might just cost you everythin’. I ain’t takin’ those chances.”

“Well, you’re certainly more forgiving now…” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “But then what? You’re not just gonna drop me off at twenty one for safe keeping, are you? I would kill you.”

He laughed. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But it won’t come to that, we ain’t stayin’ in the vault.”

“Oh? We aren’t?”

“There’s a few settlements out there that are safe and, uh, friendly to my kind.” He cleared his throat, not wanting to bring much attention to his current state of being. You took his hand, squeezing his fingers, and he returned the gesture.

One day, you would make sure he would never doubt his worth ever again. You admired his strength and perseverance, soldiering through an unforgiving environment, continuing to live. He was certainly different from the hero that he always played in the movies, but he was a hero nonetheless. In your eyes, at least.

“Well, well… That’s all it took to bring you to your knees, huh?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. “You really thinking of settling down?”

“Oh, I ain’t retirin’, sweetheart,” he said with a huff. “But if you’re askin’ if I’m thinking of going steady with you, well…”

The two of you shared a knowing look, smiling at that echo from the past. At that moment, you felt that things might just be okay after all. You had been through worse things, jumped through bigger hurdles, and yet you had still arrived there. Who was to say you couldn’t handle more?

“Kiss me then, and let’s seal the deal.”

------------

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard fanfic #minors dni #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x latina!reader #the ghoul x latina!reader

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puckpocketed · 2 months ago

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hi!!!!! im maybe perhaps a little interested in following th la kings...what th vibes are who th characters are etc n was wondering if u knew of any good primers at all ? :3 !

there are no primers here please return to your seat

serious answer: i am currently occupied with another big beaugtiful baby of a primer ! but. i will commit to a short slideshow that’s funnier + with more pictures at some nebulous point in the future!! deepest apologies 😭👍 i am NOT your kings source. idk who the kings source would even be, but it aint me!!! below is a cross section of my posts so u can vibe check us - click the non-news articles for funnies :)

here’s a tiny one i did for one of our prospects . eurotrap weed dj. just a little guy

Our kids have a history of getting injured right as they’re set to make their big step up. UNLUCKIEST GIRLS IN THE WORLD. btw <3

articles + archive links: x / y - x / y - x / y - x / y

Most recently: Arthur Kaliyev - who wanted to be traded somewhere he would have more opportunities - is freshly, guess what.,... INJURED and just as he made his peace with no trade + turning a new leaf with LA !!!!

the vibes are. LA Kings Youth Movement (soon) (SOON) (<- lie!!!) (PLAY THE KIDS. PLEASE... GOD...) (take my hand. let’s slash rob blake’s tires together <3)

Two Staches

Jordan Spence and QB by @korshrimpski

^ Phillip Danault and his two sons

Raccoon Jesus who does not understand rizz + is having a brat summer !

The vibes at practice + HQ Juice unicorn pic (same day)

[ID: The 2023-24 L.A. Kings celebrating their post practice mini-scrimmage. The forwards, having just scored, celebrate in a puppy pile against the glass. To the far right, Adrian Kempe (#9) also known as Juice, skates into the scrum. He holds his stick to his forehead as though it is a unicorn horn. /. End ID]

The Ghost Of Pierre-Luc Dubois (to ME). a lot of prospects were traded away to acquire him and he um. did not do very well here.

many lak fans in other spaces have strong negative feelings towards PLD (as is their right!) but he’s my failgirlhorsewife and he’s our very best friend and he got traded for Darcy Kuemper over the summer, and i WILL be haunting the cap.s lb because of that. no one on kingstwt will shut up about him so i think they're taking the breakup well 👍

on the topic of Kuemper. sorry i keep linking my own posts but Darcy and Dave. big. natural. <3 our gonjeous double d's...!

these posts aren’t super informative and its a lot of Me... i’m so sorry </3 i just shuffled through my lak tag and tried to remember what was funniest. legitimately cannot find old Kings blogs that are still regularly Posting and Participating so theyre all very new things... we are building these train tracks as we ride HELP.... (I genuinely have no idea what happened to nuke the community on here since i just arrived myself. lak secret community if you’re out there please speak to us … god… it’s so dark in here…....)

it’s been a mini goal of mine to breathe a little life into the tag. this isn't my primary team but i am very fond of them!! i can count on my hands every kings blog ive met here, i legitimately think i know them all?? we are so small i don't even know if we can be counted as a community. but i hope to help make the tag a warm and fun place where we can yell about our failteam <3

2024-25 LAK RENAISSANCE RAAHHHHHHH

#help i frew up..............#shoutout to the solo-stans who followed their girls to this team im kissing u on the bucket . we're siblings fr #edit: TUMBLR ATE MY READMORE……#la kings #lak lb #los angeles kings #hockey primer #primers #<- not really but needs to be filed here for my sanity #asks #user rabbitwizards

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fictional-orphan-smackdown · 7 months ago

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ROBIN VS. ROBIN, GO!

All propaganda and what each competitor is from under the cut

Dick Grayson (DC Comincs)

So a bunch of Robins are orphans or orphan adjacent but Dick has the strongest case in his birth parents, whom he was raised by, being very very dead. The kind of orphanhood that sticks in the characterization marrow. Plus in some versions he was carted off to the orphanage and everything, starting his "what if I fist-fought my parents' killer myself" arc early until Bruce ultimately decided to pluck him off his warpath and adopt him.

Dick Grayson is truly the orphan of all time not only is he the ward of another famous orphan (batman) but he really was able to surpass his mentor after being orphaned and used that anger towards his parents death to immediately start fighting crime under the Robin Moniker. The other orphans in dc wish they could do it like him. Plus his name is Dick which is objectively funny.

Dressing like a stoplight and kicking people in the face under a bat furry's direction was the MORE reasonable coping strategy than his original plan. Of singlehandedly taking down the entire mafia even though he was a baby.

Think Batman had issues? Well, consider what happens is he raises his mini-me. This guy is waaaayy too tactically driven and ambitious for a thirteen-year-old. And awesome. And the adult version is —- somebody append a photo.

Okay I submitted Bruce Wayne but like I can’t not submit my beloved boy as well! Anyway his parents have the nebulous honor of being so fucking dead, like literally never coming back to life ever. They died in that circus and the only time I can possibly think of them as ‘coming back’ in any way is in Darkest Night, where there were zombies everywhere. So even when they return to the story they’re still fucking dead! Anyway Dick is like super orphaned, I love him but you look at him and you know his parents are dead.

Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

Trust me bro

Tim Drake (DC Comics)

An early reader-insert character, Tim had all the traits the average comics fan at the time wanted: money, martial arts skills, cool skateboard tricks, lots of girlfriends, secret knowledge about Batman and Robin. He volunteered to be Robin, because what comics fan wouldn't in his place? Continuing to be relatable, he's now bisexual, depressed, and living in a crappy apartment. Which is also a boat, because comics readers think it would be cool to live in a houseboat.

His biological mother, Janet Drake, was murdered in the carribean. In the same attack his biological father was hospitalized for injuries and in a coma. Janey Drake was buried on Christmas Eve. During the period that Jack Drake (his biological father) was in a coma he was temporarily under the care of Bruce Wayne. When Jack got out of the coma he was confined to a wheelchair while he went through physical therapy. He would meet his future second wife, Dana Winters through the physical therapy. The two would get married later, Tim having a good relationship with Dana. Her mediating between the father and son during some of the misunderstandings. Jack would find out that Tim was Robin, then realize Bruce Wayne was Batman, threaten Bruce with a gun, and order Tim to quit being Robin. Though later, Tim would get approval from his father to be Robin again and the two would start improving their father son relationship. During the event of identity crisis Tim's indenture would be at stake and Captian Boomerrang would break into the Drake's house and murder Jack just as Tim arrived. Tim having heard his last words over Comms. His stepmother Dana Winters would be hospitalized in Bludhaven for the mental trauma this inflicted on her, and would soon find herself a victim when Bludhaven was bombed/nuked. Tim would then be adopted by Bruce. Though in 2008 Bruce would be supposedly killed by an Omega Beam, leaving 17 year old Tim as a three times over orphan. Though Tim didn't believe Bruce to actually be dead, but lost in the timestream and would go on a Brucequest to get him back. On this trip he would lose his spleen, and nearly die multiple times.

Doomed by the narrative to become an orphan. Tim had a good thing going for a while, but after he started getting involved with the Bats, his life went downhill from there. He became Robin on the day of his mother's funeral. (I should note that the racism I mentioned in her cause of death is that the person who kills her is an awful racist caricature, NOT that she's canonically a POC.) From there, he spent a while balancing Batman (mentor) and his biological father (who was rendered comatose in the incident that killed his mother, but woke up not long after). Both the Robins that came before him were orphaned. As one Tumblr user put it: while Tim Drake managed to beat the odds and remain not an orphan, eventually, the writers succumbed to the calls of orphanhood. His father dies after he finds out Tim's identity, and it is because he knows the secret that he is ultimately targeted and dies. In the aftermath, Tim attempts to get revenge by assassinating the culprit, but ultimately is unable to betray his personal values and go through with it. He has one of the more realistic parent-child relationships among the Bats because it is down to earth in spite of the eventual doom. Really, it comes down to this: Robin isn't just Batman's sidekick, he's Batman's child. And that meant it was only a matter of. time before Tim Drake was orphaned

#poll #dc comics #dc robin #dick grayson #tim drake #batman

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year ago

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We’ve gotten tiny reader, how about tiny TCE?

I wanna annoy miniature Vinnel until he stabs me with a mini knife; give Morell a panic attack by fake trying to eat him; ruffle Belo’s feathers and turn him into an actual smol puffball...

I just wanna hold the guys and torment them!!

What about tiny angry Krulu 👌🏻

They're tiny 🤏

Vinnel is a menace. You cannot contain him, he's like an annoying pixie and he will butt against you several times like a flying missile.

Morell is honestly more worried about falling to his death, so put him on the ground please. Or on your head, he's going to use you to man the kitchen like Ratatouille in Linguini's hat.

Patches will not stop his work because of this. Unless, of course, a giantess were to squish him like a pea... Or something equally depraved. Likewise, Stitches can still kill a person in this size. Imagine hearing a tiny man squeak someone's name and that person dies immediately. He's going to try to ride a rat outside.

Gallon is now your actual slime! You can probably use him like those slappy hand toys. He's vaguely scared, please hold him in a glass or something.

Nebul is very busy trying to run away from Purpur, who is cooing and warbling incoherently because his dad is A DOLL NOW. And no force in Heaven or Hell can stop those tentacles from grabbing him.

Santi is now ready for you to sit on him. No really, please carry him in your cleavage. Fuck, just slide him in your panties. OH OH OH- Put him in your mouth! Can he ride your tongue?! There are limitless possibilities, he's vibrating.

Grimbly likes being small in general, this is fine for him. DO NOT call him a mosquito. First he's going to feed off you like a tic, because he can now, then he's going to cry until you carry him everywhere in your palms and treat him like a purse bat.

Sybastian is swarmed by his mimiclings and you probably don't see him for the rest of the day, honestly. Or, alternatively, he becomes a bracelet on your arm.

Belo is very upset with the circumstances. Can you stop grabbing him like a parakeet?! It does make him puff up and coo. He's finally ready for his role as an annoying stereotypical angel sitting on your right shoulder.

Fank-e is ballin'. He wants you to pick him up like Simba so he can play that scene's sound from his speakers. In fact, he wants you to throw him around a lot, which you probably shouldn't.

Krulu may have drastically reduced in size, but he's still your lord. And you better get that giggling under control because he can still force your skull to the ground hard enough to chip your teeth. He's going to manually use your body as his for the rest of the day until this is solved.

#Vinnel oc #Morell oc #Gallon oc #Nebul oc #Santi oc #Grimbly oc #Patches oc #Sybastian oc #Fank-e oc #Belo oc #Krulu oc

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arsonmurderandjaywalking · 2 months ago

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notes for the Jack and Janet get divorced instead of going to Haiti au that I have been ruminating on

We get to avoid the Obeah Man arc (misogynistic and extremely racist. I’m glad to be rid of it)

Ultimately I see Janet getting custody, but I feel like there’s also the question of if she would want to be a single mom, and how she would feel about being one. She’s already doing most of the parenting between the two of them, but there was still some divide of work. She was a working mom in the 90s when she didn’t explicitly need to be. Her career is probably important to her. Suddenly not having the fallback that Jack provided would be pretty daunting

Another question irt custody is how hard Jack would fight it. He’s a typical conservative dad. He thinks that child-rearing is mostly a woman’s job, but also I can see him having issues at the thought of a single-mother household. Additionally, he hasn’t really had any revelations about his parenting yet, so he would be even more insulted than canon Jack about anyone implying that he wouldn’t be able to properly care for Tim, and he’d probably fight it on principle

I have no idea what would happen with the company, actually. I am not a business person. They’d probably still have to work together though, since they’re both described as heads of the company, and I imagine they’d both be reluctant to leave

Google is telling me that divorce proceedings tend to take 3-6 months when there aren’t any significant issues, which is certainly not the case for these two, and potentially upwards of 14 months when there is a lot of arguing. Which. Is so long. That’s such a time sink I don’t want to do that. But they have so much to argue through. And they’re probably both bitter so they’d be trying to undermine each other. But this is very much affecting Tim so maybe they’d want to wrap it up as quickly as possible. But also you know Tim would be hiding that from them as much as he can. Why must I be so concerned with verisimilitude in this specific aspect

FINE it lasts a year but no longer. I don’t care. They can sort out their shit in a year or not at all we have a canon timeline to stick to, however nebulous it may be

Tim is not doing good. Assuming this all starts at the same time the Drakes went to Haiti in canon, Tim hasn't really developed that closeness he has with the others yet. He and Dick only really get close during Knightfall/Prodigal, his relationship with Alfred only really develops after he starts going out as Robin (source: his second? maybe? Robin mini. The one where the Joker breaks out of Arkham while Bruce is out of the country. Where he says he doesn’t know Alfred that well) and he hasn't even met Barbara yet. He doesn’t even have his civilian friends because he's still attending boarding school right now and he’d be home on winter break. The only person he could go to for emotional support with this is Bruce

Tim wouldn't tell Bruce that that's what he's doing, I doubt he'd even tell him about the divorce without prompting, but he does definitely start spending as many hours as he can get away with in the cave. For no reason in particular

I’m beginning to run out of ideas. On further thought, I think Jack and Janet would want Tim to have a say in deciding who he stays with, or they’d at least want his opinion on it even if he doesn’t have the final say in it.

He could think himself in circles forever trying to find a good answer, or at least one he can make himself say, but none of that would change the fact that what he really wants is to stay with them both. He wants this to not be happening. He wants them to not be getting a divorce. He wants to actually live with them, not just spend 9 months a year in a boarding school and only see them on weekends and holidays

#tim drake #batman #robin #janet drake #jack drake #a surprisingly little amount of tim in an au that logically really should focus on him #I may or may not elaborate more on this. probably #if anything in this is out of character. what are you a cop? ignore it

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dcfanfictioncatalogue · 6 months ago

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do you know any good steph and damian fics? they were such a good dynamic duo in batgirl 2009. or any duke and damian fics? whatever you like, you have fantastic taste!

I went a little too wild with the "whatever you like" bc I saw batgirl 2009 and blacked out. all of these fics are set during the dick!bats batgirl!steph robin!damian era and consist of some overlap of the three of them -- I know dick was not mentioned in this ask but he crept in there my apologies. at least two of these fics are exclusively steph & damian so I fulfilled some level of this request methinks. duke is not here I'm sorry but I can potentially try to find some of him and damian at a later date if you would like to send in another ask <3

3:16, by partingxshot ( @wufflesvetinari ) . 70.7k, T, gen, 45/?. summary: with faltering steps, dick and damian become batman and robin. notes: as the summary suggets, this fic IS mainly based on dick and damian, but it's incredible, and ties in both steph and some other characters and plots from the dickbats-era comics. I found this while I was searching and HAD to rec it given that it's currently my absolute favorite batfam adjacent fic.

the gentleness that comes (despite the violence), by cherrystainedknuckles ( @cherrystainedknuckles ). 3.7k, T, gen. summary: or; how steph and damian sleepovers became a regular occurrence. notes: this is my fic lol but hey it filled the prompt! if you think I have good taste you will potentially also like my writing here's hoping. it's steph & damian and set nebulously during batgirl 2009

Put All Your Faults to Bed, by hauntedlittledoll ( @hauntedlittledoll ) . 1.7k, G, gen. summary: steph is the unofficial wayne family counselor, and her hours are late. very late. notes: damian and steph are flawless here and despite its short length it manages to (in my opinion) capture damian and steph very well. mentions of steph as batgirl place this solidly during batgirl 2009 as well !!

prove that i'm worth something, by Hinn_Raven ( @secretlystephaniebrown ). 5.2k, G, gen. summary: dick grayson has never had much time for stephanie brown. but when the two of them find themselves stranded without a line to the outside world, he finds that they might have more in common than he thought. notes: this is stephanie and dick centric -- though they both mention damian and steph's little mini adventures. this seems to be set post batman: the return, given that dick is still batman but bruce is alive. anyway, I LOVE this I love steph here, I love the way these two see each other, it's just really neat

ask box is open for requests ++ find my fic rec libraries organized here

#asks #batfam #stephanie brown #dick grayson #damian wayne #family friendly #100 to 2k #2k to 10k #60k to 100k

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gatesblue345 · 2 months ago

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Rambles about Proto-Bahamut

The GW grind made me realize the writers really hate this damn dragon it's so funny how the writers just ignore the existence of this dragon.

I can't even blame them too much because Proto-Bahamut is every problem on why Lyria can't summon every primal beast in battle or why story events (especially the early ones) are pretty nebulous about who's apart of the "crew" this time around.

Because it would kill the narrative tension and steal the entire show if we had a mini God-Dragon blowing up all our problems.

I just think it's funny because nobody mentions Proto at all. Outside of his intro cutscene. Their never mention at all in MSQ outside of being a stock image for Sky God Bahamut.

And in events as far as I'm aware (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) they have only been mentioned in anniversary events, but even then it's only been by side mentions as far as I'm aware in WMTSB and Heart of The Sun.

Not even in And You of all events! You know the event entirely built the Bad Ends of the Sky Realm and the Captain's choices. Orologia doesn't even comment on Proto even though you would think that a dragon this powerful would get at least a comment from Logia especially considering Proto's close connection to our main trio and it's capacity for world ending destruction, but nothing at all.

This wouldn't be something worth noting considering if you look at Granblue there is a load of things that never get touched on or just straight up ignored if Cygames doesn't feel giving it attention cough MSQ cough I just think it's funny in this instance because Proto's is everywhere and gets so much special treatment.

They have their own raid, a theme song with lyrics!, a weapon series to go alongside them and features pretty often alongside our main trio in promotional art which is more than about 80% of our cast could ever hope to achieve.

As for why I think the writers ignore Proto like the plague if they can help it. I believe it's because the writers don't 100 percent know exactly what to do with Proto which make sense GBF is 10 years old which is a rarity amongst Gacha Games.

And I doubt the writers and developers had planned out the story of GBF 10 years in advance and Proto and whatever it's story was going to be is just the most obvious example of this considering it took until 2019 and 2022 with the Bahamut uncaps respectively for us to get our first concrete lore and not just theories about Proto-Bahamut and what actually is it in the wider context of the setting.

Above anything else Proto-Bahamut is just fucking cool as hell and I love that every time their ever shown they make use realize why's they need to be shackled and the fact that Proto is fragment of the God of Destruction and is such a menace to the world if they were in the hands of anybody, but two of kindest people (The Captain and Lyria) in the Sky Realm the world would be in tatters.

(Also thanks to @reshiram for their GBF MSQ archive and the GBF wiki teams made checking for details so much easier).

EDIT : Grammar

#gbf #granblue #granblue fantasy #bahamut #Proto-Bahamut #This is my first long post on tumblr hopefully it's actually readable #I didn't even mention relink but Proto is so cool in the game like what do you mean they have multiple incantations!?#Danchou #lyria

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beirarowling · 7 months ago

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I believe a woman is a human being who belongs to the sex class that produces large gametes. It’s irrelevant whether or not her gametes have ever been fertilised, whether or not she’s carried a baby to term, irrelevant if she was born with a rare difference of sexual development that makes neither of the above possible, or if she’s aged beyond being able to produce viable eggs. She is a woman and just as much a woman as the others.

I don’t believe a woman is more or less of a woman for having sex with men, women, both or not wanting sex at all. I don’t think a woman is more or less of a woman for having a buzz cut and liking suits and ties, or wearing stilettos and mini dresses, for being black, white or brown, for being six feet tall or a little person, for being kind or cruel, angry or sad, loud or retiring. She isn't more of a woman for featuring in Playboy or being a surrendered wife, nor less of a woman for designing space rockets or taking up boxing. What makes her a woman is the fact of being born in a body that, assuming nothing has gone wrong in her physical development (which, as stated above, still doesn't stop her being a woman), is geared towards producing eggs as opposed to sperm, towards bearing as opposed to begetting children, and irrespective of whether she's done either of those things, or ever wants to.

Womanhood isn't a mystical state of being, nor is it measured by how well one apes sex stereotypes. We are not the creatures either porn or the Bible tell you we are. Femaleness is not, as trans woman Andrea Chu Long wrote, ‘an open mouth, an expectant asshole, blank, blank eyes,’ nor are we God’s afterthought, sprung from Adam’s rib.

Women are provably subject to certain experiences because of our female bodies, including different forms of oppression, depending on the cultures in which we live. When trans activists say 'I thought you didn't want to be defined by your biology,' it’s a feeble and transparent attempt at linguistic sleight of hand. Women don't want to be limited, exploited, punished, or subject to other unjust treatment because of their biology, but our being female is indeed defined by our biology. It's one material fact about us, like having freckles or disliking beetroot, neither of which are representative of our entire beings, either. Women have billions of different personalities and life stories, which have nothing to do with our bodies, although we are likely to have had experiences men don't and can't, because we belong to our sex class.

Some people feel strongly that they should have been, or wish to be seen as, the sex class into which they weren't born. Gender dysphoria is a real and very painful condition and I feel nothing but sympathy for anyone who suffers from it. I want them to be free to dress and present themselves however they like and I want them to have exactly the same rights as every other citizen regarding housing, employment and personal safety. I do not, however, believe that surgeries and cross-sex hormones literally turn a person into the opposite sex, nor do I believe in the idea that each of us has a nebulous ‘gender identity’ that may or might not match our sexed bodies. I believe the ideology that preaches those tenets has caused, and continues to cause, very real harm to vulnerable people.

I am strongly against women's and girls' rights and protections being dismantled to accommodate trans-identified men, for the very simple reason that no study has ever demonstrated that trans-identified men don't have exactly the same pattern of criminality as other men, and because, however they identify, men retain their advantages of speed and strength. In other words, I think the safety and rights of girls and women are more important than those men's desire for validation.

J.K. Rowling

#jk rowling #j.k. rowling #pro jkr #jkr #they basically made her write her essay from 2020 again and still will not read this

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shallowseeker · 1 year ago

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Becky Rosen-Baron, MIA.

Becky's "death" + Dean's side of the fireplace mantel

Becky loses her husband, then her "junior" and daughter...and then she herself dies. Just like Dean.

///

The two sides of the mantel:

Ahh, the mantel, nestled as the hearth of home. Hearths are associated with home and family because the hearth was historically the main source of heat in the home, as well as where the cooking was done.

The left side is Chuck's side, black chess pieces. Sam is driving the car with TFW safely confined to the roadhouse at the end. The monster hand is pointed away from Sam.

The right is Becky's side: white pieces, glass half-fall.

It's also Dean's side, with Dean driving the car and heading towards Cas and "mini Cas," plus a family portrait showing what Cas and "mini Cas" are to Dean. The monster's hand is reaching for Dean's side, as Dean-action-hero figure frantically fights against it.

Awww. the cute little family picture with Rod Baron, Rod Jr, their daughter, and Becky Rosen, which also foreshadows the order of the losses (hub dies first in the form of Cas and finale-dad).

This is right next to...Dean in a car, Cas, and a "mini Cas." (Becky doesn't know about Jack.)

///

Other suspicious details: Dean prime is in the car driving towards Cas in front of a reddish Hellscape.

Alternatively, the photo behind Cas bears some resemblance to a blossom, like the Leviathan blossom he was searching for, crazed, as he rushed through the lands of Purgatory on the verge of losing Cas. They even look like they could be two blossoms straining towards one another. Who knows? It could be a famous fanart I'm just not familiar with.

Anyhoo, both Cas and "junior/little" Cas are turned away from Dean.

This is a nod to Dean...without? Bereft. A la The Winchesters companion series. Here's Dean's ending. Limbo. Wandering. Searching for a happy family he doesn't have.

///

If the more-discussed left side was Sam's ending, then the less-discussed right side is Dean in The Winchesters. It's the head side versus the heart side.

And the heart ending, which we sort of get from The Winchesters is a wandering, driving Dean, looking for this nebulous happiness he can't seem to find without Cas and..."mini Cas/Cas junior" Jack.

///

Becky was "doing great"

But Becky's life is so cute, y'all. That hub is adorbs.

ROD: "We'll be fine, babe...it's just Lake Michigan. Hardly any chop!"

Famous last words, Rod. You don't know that it's you who is going to mishandle that "Michigan chop."

Becky/Rod - But OMG can we just take a minute? They LIKE each other. They tease each other. They know the motion sickness comes from him, probably. And he knows she's gonna be nerding out during her relaxing weekend (that's part of the point of getting away--to let her have that time).

AAaaaaaahhhhhHHHHhhhhh.

Rod knows about Becky's writing and her superfan status (hard to miss in her office hehe) and loves her for it. And it's just so damn cute.

BECKY: Four hours in a boat? Rod, Junior gets seasick in the tub. ROD: Where would I be without you? BECKY: Covered in puke. [BECKY taps on the window.] Have fun, sweeties! JUNIOR: Thanks, Mom, we will. [ROD and BECKY kiss.] ROD: (fondly)Wow. Felt that. You can’t wait to have the house to yourself. BECKY: (flirtatiously) Oh, you have no idea.

///

Along comes Chuck, the metaphorical stop sign to Becky's life; her "off-screen murderer"

Chuck sees her big house and her van and her fam and notes sees that she's doing "great" for herself. She doesn't know it yet but he is the end of her life--he even appears in front of a stop sign!

BONUS: Becky's wearing the gray duster/caretaker warrior/hearth of house/"dead guy robe!"

Instinctively, she runs. See, even with their baggage, Becky's already got a bad feeling, "Well I don't need or want to see you."

So naturally, he worms his way in.

CHUCK: I’m sorry, I… I know we’re not together anymore, and it seems like you’re doing great. I just – I… I wanted to talk. Catch up. It’s been a rough couple of weeks. BECKY: That’s not my problem. [She turns to walk into the house.] CHUCK: Wait, Becky, please. I don’t have anywhere else to go.

So then, after denigrating her POV:

BECKY: I’m a writer, too, Chuck. CHUCK: Oh. I mean, fanfic… it’s not really the same thing… BECKY: Writing’s writing. The self-sabotage, the doubts, the struggle against time. So, whenever I have a spare minute, I write.

He steals.

///

He will wind up taking everything

First, he steals her rosy little laptop with her cute little rose decal-skin and the rose keyboard cover and he even puts on HER GLASSES:

///

Then, clever girl that she is, she fakes liking it to try to get him to leave! The LYING motif. "It's so good! I loved it....it's so good I'd love to get back to my own work."

CHUCK: "No...no no. You're shining me on. ...Come on, one note."

Then Becky makes her fatal misstep

She gives concrit, which is what Chuck said he wanted but not what he actually wanted. Just look at this face. Becky's starting to feel that...wrongness.

Something's off.

It's the same subtle change--that same whiplash we saw when he cruelly turned on Metatron in the diner.

After he writes his hopeless ending on her computer, and she lets her criticism rip. He sadistically enjoys her discomfort. He's sticking it to her, with her love of laundry and conversations and banter, which will appear in the terrible finale. Then, he says this:

[BECKY walks but turns to CHUCK.] BECKY: You have to leave. CHUCK: Nah, I kinda like it here.

He took a crap on her computer, wore her glasses, sat in her seat...now he's taking her office. Her house.

///

Chuck takes all

[ROD enters the living room.] ROD: Babe, you wouldn’t believe what happened.

JJLKgj! Aw, Rod. He cannot wait to tell her that he's the one that wound up puking. KJALGJAGH get you a man like that!

Then he kills Rod right in front of her.

[BECKY looks at CHUCK.] BECKY: Please. ROD: Junior was fine, but I puked everywhere. [ROD walks in and sees CHUCK. He looks at BECKY, confused.] ROD: Babe? CHUCK: Hey. [CHUCK snaps his fingers. ROD disappears in a puff of dust.] BECKY: (screams) Rod?! What happened? Where is he? CHUCK: He’s gone. BECKY: What?!

Her children enter next; we can only hear them off-screen. Rod Jr. can't wait to tell her about the puke incident either. They just know she'll love it.

Chuck will take Rod right in front of Becky's eyes, but her children will die off-screen. "Away."

[ROD JR. enters.] ROD JR.: Hey, mom! We’re back! Dad got sick! He threw up all over the side – [CHUCK snaps his fingers again. The kids disappear.] BECKY: (gasping for air, on a whisper) No! (shudders) The kids. CHUCK: Oh, don’t worry. They’re not dead. They’re just away. [BECKY turns back to CHUCK.] CHUCK: Oh, yeah. I’m God. [BECKY looks horrified.] BECKY: What are you… No. You bring them back. You bring them back! [CHUCK smiles.] BECKY: Please…you can’t do this.

It echoes both Dean pleading with God in 13x01, "Now, you're gonna bring them back," and his 15x18 "Don't do this, Cas." Yeup. Becky is now bereft. Without. Rod's gone, like Cas will soon be gone.

CHUCK: Oh, Becky. I can do anything. [CHUCK steps closer to BECKY. He snaps his fingers. She disappears in a puff of dust.]

Becky faces him defiantly but quickly unravels into grief. "You bring them back...please."

And then he kills Becky.

And here we have these "withouts" culminating. The fun motifs about having the house to yourself end with a cheeky disappearance of the things Becky loves the most. It's cruel. She'd been trying to help Chuck, and he did not show the slightest glimmer of gratitude once her "fluffing" ceased.

And then she herself is gone.

///

It makes you think of this too from 15x18:

DEAN: "She's gonna kill you. And then she's gonna kill me."

///

Girls named Becky take things and break things?

In 13x01, the angel Miram ranted and raved about the specter-like example of a "super bitch named Becky."

This Becky would "take things and break things."

But the funny thing is...here? As Chuck settles into her office and takes her house…

He's the one taking and breaking. He stole everything from her the same way he tried to wrap himself up in Dean's gray MoL robe.

Just 'cause he can.

#shal meta #chuck shurley #spn finale #cw spn finale #cw dean's death #mcd #spn atomic monsters #spn 15x04 #spn season 15 #becky rosen #rod baron #the rosen-baron family #spnwin #spnwin adjacent

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