#but once again . they are all ex terrorists.

[komeeder]

something i also dont get about how much people hate on hiyoko is that shes literally an sdr2 character. you know, sdr2, the game about how even though they had done bad things and have been terrible people theyre still people who deserve a future where they can improve and heal and become better. ? not saying this as a defense of what she does im saying shes literally an sdr2 character. they are literally all ex terrorists.

[koling2345]

Haunted

Simon Riley X Fem! Reader

Tw: angst(?), smut, unprotected sex, body descriptions(especially Simon's body🫠), threats mentioned, break up.

Summary: Meeting with your ex after a sudden break-up, what could go wrong?

Wc: 5.4k

A/n:Sorry that this took so long😭 Uni and work are biting my ass recently. Again, sorry for mistakes, it's late, and I'm sleepy but wanted to post. Hope y'all like it.

Simon was a man who always seemed to be grieving, so serious, too stoic, he hardly spoke. But that changed with you, he was gentle, soft, loving, that was just you, just you.

You certainly made a change in his life, in such a good way that Simon wondered if he really deserved someone like you.

But that's Simon Riley's life, where everything he cared about died or left him.

Where nothing he wanted turned out right.And his relationship with you was perfect, you were someone who understood him so well, for some reason you always managed to calm him down when he was in the worst of moods. You were definitely for him.

Everything changed after a mission, it was supposed to be just another terrorist group that he had to stop, but it was different this time. At the time of the mission, everything went smoothly, according to the plan Price had drawn up, almost without a flaw.

The problems began to appear as soon as they got back to base, and after the mission was completed, the team members began to receive threats. Several at once, with no specific address or format.It could be a cell phone message, a piece of paper with something strange written on it, a call that as soon as you answered the phone went silent, just a breath on the other end. Any kind of thing.

Given the kind of job Simon had, this was a fairly normal occurrence, he had enemies left and right, he probably had more enemies than friends at that point. Most of the time these threats were nothing more than bluffs by someone who had been upset by the death of a criminal, friend or family member.

But as every rule has its exception, this time the threats weren't empty.One day at the base, Johnny arrived distressed, saying that his sister had received a threat to her life, and it hadn't been over the phone. The poor girl woke up to a rock being thrown through her window, almost hitting her.

No one knew how they had found Johnny's family, how they had managed to find his confidential information, but they had, and now it wasn't just the boys who were in some kind of danger.

And the situation got worse as the days went by, the next event was with Price, and Gaz soon followed. In the same way, it affected people close to them.Simon was the only one who came out of all this 'unscathed', because before they could find the only important person in his life, you, he made sure to send you as far away from his life as possible.

No matter how painful it was.As much as he hated the decision, there was no way he could go back on it, because that would be putting your safety at risk.

And he certainly couldn't take any chances, he'd seen Johnny's family threatened to be killed, Price's children almost kidnapped, and Kyle's partner stalked. This didn't happen without reason, or by pure coincidence. Simon had been in this line of work for a long time, long enough to know that this was revenge, and there was a good chance that the enemies would only stop when they managed to hurt someone. And he wouldn't risk your life for the world. Not ever.

So it was easier to get away from you, to end the relationship in the most stupid way possible, to make you angry with him, and it was easier to get away from him.Because he knew that if for some reason he told you the real reason for that reaction, there was no way you would agree to break up with him. No way.

In the worst-case scenario, he knew what had to be done, and he did it.He's felt like shit ever since, just remembering the way you started crying and sobbing when he told you he wanted to break up with you was enough to put a lump in his throat.It had been three weeks since he'd done that to you, and even then the feeling didn't go away, if anything, it got worse.

These last few days he'd been drinking more than usual, smoking as many cigarettes a day as Price. It wouldn't be surprising if he had black lung before he was fifty.It was something that eased some of the anguish he was carrying, even if only for a moment.

So today was another Saturday, a day off he'd gotten after working all week, and just like last week, he found himself in the same place, the pub he always came to.He'd already lost count of how many shots he'd had, at which point the bourbon didn't even burn as it went down his throat. Maybe he was a bit tipsy, but not drunk, Simon had a high resistance to such things.

But even the amount of cigarettes and booze he'd consumed that night wasn't enough to inhibit his vision of the silhouette that appeared in the corner of his eye.In any case, at first he thought they had put something strange in his drink, perhaps causing some delirium.But no, it was you, in person.

You looked so beautiful, like a vision of paradise. If he was being honest, seeing you showing off all those curves in a tight dress was enough to make his mind go to dirty places.

Despite this, you didn't seem to see him, too excited about your friends to pay attention to what was around you. Not that he cared, since a small part of him was grateful that you hadn't noticed him, he didn't know if he could bear to see your sad eyes one more time.

So he took on the role of silent observer, standing in the corner as he watched your movements. And, it was eerie, unsubtle, but it was the only way he could see you up close after so long.Simon knew it might be better to leave, because the more time he spent in your presence, the more he wanted to go up to you and grab you, but he controlled himself.

Well, he didn't know until when.

A long time passed, and you still didn't notice him there, until one of your friends whispered something to you, causing you to look at Simon almost immediately. He was without that skull mask that he only wore for work, outside the field the piece of cloth was locked in a drawer.

His eyes were fixed on you, he didn't even bother to disguise it. And you felt like you could map his face just by looking at him, the small scruff of hair growing on his face, the scars he had here and there. One of these was large, running from his cheek to his mouth.But that's what made him unique, the Simon you knew and loved like crazy.

When he broke up with you, it was all so fast, you couldn't understand it. For days you wondered if it was something you had done, because Simon was certainly an enigmatic man, but you knew he would tell you if you had done anything wrong.

The relationship ended with gaps, gaps that you desperately wanted to understand.Simon knew how to avoid you, and he did so over the last few weeks, you went to his apartment several times, you texted him, it was humiliating, but you wanted to understand why he made that decision.

But after a few weeks with no results, you gave up, and now you're here facing him again.Not that you're much of a believer in such things, but you'd like to think that this meeting wasn't in vain, not a coincidence of fate. Maybe this was your last chance to get along with him, and you were going to make it count.

Well, not in the cleanest way in the world, not least because you doubted very much that Simon would talk to you out of sheer will. But that's what friends are for, isn't it? Surely they could help you get the lieutenant's attention.

With that in mind, you and your friend put on a little show, pretending that he'd knocked you down and that you'd hurt your foot in the process. Not that it was difficult, given the heels you were wearing.

After faking the little fall, you saw Simon's expression change for a few seconds, and you knew for sure that he had fallen for your trick. The moment you fell, he almost got up from the stool he was sitting on, almost going to rescue you from the fall.Almost.

And you even said out loud that you were going to the restroom to check, denying your friends' help and pretending to be tough, something Simon hated. Little by little, he fell for your little story.

Maybe you were just a good actress, or Simon was too concerned about everything that involved you. Go on, probably both.

You made your way limply to the restroom, doing your best to pretend you were in pain, as if it were the worst pain you were feeling at the moment. You stayed in the restroom for a good few minutes, hoping and praying that he would come after you.

As you leaned on a stall in the restroom, you didn't hear the door opening, because you were fixated on looking at your cell phone, waiting for a message from him.To your surprise, you only felt strong arms pulling you into the stall, locking you and the person inside.

You were about to scream because you thought it was a stranger, but as soon as you saw those brown eyes you loved so much, all that appeared on your face was a smile.

“You scared me...” You whispered, your voice without any bite or malicious tone, probably all that was in your tone was affection.

He scoffed, looking you up and down, “Apparently your foot is better now.”

You bit your lip, trying to contain the mischievous smile that threatened to appear on your lips.

Even though he treated you like an asshole, you could still feel his love for you in his gaze.

And, oh God, seeing you smile like that made his heart beat faster.When you moved, he looked down and saw that you were back in your high heels, making him frown.

It wasn't long before he put two and two together.

“Little minx.” He mutters, narrowing his eyes at you.

“I think it's sore...” You say, trying to keep up the act that your foot really was hurt. Did you really think you could make a fool of him?

By this point Simon should be used to your antics, or maybe he was playing dumb as an excuse to see you. In any case, he knelt down in front of you, picked up your foot and examined it.

His calloused hands gave you goose bumps, and it didn't get any better when he gently removed your shoe to get a better look at your heel.

And to confirm his suspicion, there was no swelling, it was just you pretending to be hurt.He wrinkled his eyebrows, looking at you, and just when you thought he was going to complain to you, the softest of smiles appeared on his lips, along with a shake of his head.

“Bloody pest...” He said under his breath, his tone betraying the lightness his voice carried, without any bite.

“Ah...Well...I guess I was wrong...” You say back, your voice as weak as that of a child who's just been caught up in something stupid.

Silence fell around you both, the only sound being your breathing in that cramped space.

“Are you all right?” You ask softly, looking at him with nothing but tenderness.It was hard to keep your composure when he was this close, making you sure you were far from getting over him.

And he wasn't too different from you, since it was hard not to remember everything he'd been through with you, all the sweet memories you'd both built up.

“Going.” He murmurs, letting instinct take him as he gently tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, taking a moment to look at you.

To really look at you.

“I wanted to talk to you...” You begin, seeing his expression change to a stoic one as soon as you've uttered the phrase.

You knew it wouldn't be easy to have this conversation with him. Simon knew how to hide his feelings very well when he wanted to.

“We've talked before... There's no need for that now.” His voice was now more serious, harsh.

“No. You talked! I didn't have a chance to respond!” You protested, gripping his arms tightly, as if you could hold that man down if you wanted to.

He grunted, narrowing his eyes at you as he took a deep breath. He wasn't ready to see you sad again, he couldn't take it this time.Simon was definitely a softie when he was with you.

You had him wrapped around your finger.

"Did I... did I do something?” You asked, your voice shaking from the nervousness you were beginning to feel.

He denied it with his head, not elaborating much on his answer.

“What was it then? Was it something that happened? Or... Or is there someone else?” You ask once again, your voice low and small in the face of the possibilities.

What if he had someone else? What if he broke up with you because of this other person?

Simon almost laughed at the absurdity of your question, he couldn't even think of anyone else, after you, there was no one else. No one.

“Nothing like that.” He retorted, looking at you with a certain estrangement. It wasn't possible that you were thinking so lowly of him.Not that he'd given you the best impression in the world recently.

You even asked him other questions, which honestly fell on deaf ears, as he could only watch the way your lips moved, your gloss gleaming in the dim light of the restroom. You were just as perfect as he remembered, if not more so.

No one was ironclad, and he was no different, so he silenced your chatter by bringing his face close to yours, his nose touching yours, his forehead to yours.

“I... Can you kiss me?” You whisper, giving him the best pleading eyes you can manage.

And fuck, looking at your sly little face, your pouty lips, he can't say no.

He couldn't deny you in a million years.Hearing you say please, in such a sweet voice, was enough to get his blood pumping.

When you felt his lips on yours, it was like a little taste of heaven. As soon as his lips moved against yours, it was as if a lever had turned on the two of you, and something gentle and innocent turned into a hot, languid kiss.His hands soon found their way to your hips, pulling you to him as he deepened the kiss even more.

His tongue almost invaded your mouth, roughly exploring every corner inside your mouth. You knew Simon, when he wanted it, he got it. Just as he could be the kindest man in the world to you, he could also be the devil on earth if he wanted to.

When his lips parted from yours, almost painfully, Simon felt a warmth run through his body as he looked at you.

Lips swollen from the kiss, face reddened, your mouth hanging open as you looked on with the slyest eyes you could muster.

Simon knew full well that he should leave, his mind screaming one thing and his heart another, it would be better if he cut off all contact, but he couldn't force himself to do it.

So since he was going to stay, he decided to make a decision. He turned you around, making your back face him.He pushed you against the door, gluing his body to yours, leaving no space between you.

It was better if he didn't see your face while he was taking you, because if he did, he wouldn't be so sure not to take you home.

Of not picking you up and hugging you while the two of you snuggled in his bed, under his covers. In his house. If he really saw your expressions at that moment, all the strength he had would go down the drain.

You felt your body shiver when he started kissing your neck, his warm breath hitting your sensitive skin.

The feel of his tongue on your skin, the way he nibbled and licked your neck, everything he did was enough to make your knees buckle.

“You smell so good...” He purrs, pressing his nose into the crease of your neck, taking a deep inhale.

“Fucking good...” He adds, his voice gradually getting huskier, making your body hair rise at the sensation of the vibration of his voice on your skin.

He simply loved your smell, it was something uniquely yours, he couldn't find it anywhere else. It made him feel at home, feel alive. It drove him crazy.

By now he was hard, feeling his cock throbbing inside his pants, almost begging Simon to get him out of the confines of his clothes.

And well, he was sure you were already wet by then, he could feel your wet panties brushing against him, not that that little dress did much to hide you, especially when you were leaning over like that.

“Did you miss me?” he asked in a purr, making you roll your eyes at his husky voice in your ear.

" A lot... A lot...” You murmured breathlessly, not caring that you looked like a bitch in heat for him.You heard him chuckle behind you, one of his hands going down to your mound, cupping it in his hand.His other hand went to your breast, feeling your hard nipple against the thin fabric of your dress.

“Lower your dress for me, sweet thing...” He murmured, tugging at the straps of your dress, encouraging you to expose yourself to him.

And you did, pulling your dress down to your waist, then letting it fall to your heels.Behind you, he took a deep breath and stepped back, looking at your naked body, covered only by your panties.

No bra, the sight that made him growl, literally. His hands were quick to go to your breasts, taking them in his hands, squeezing and playing with your nipples.

“Nice tits, eh? You wanted to show off for me? Walking around without a bra like that?” He asked, giving your breasts a firm squeeze that made you moan, feeling pain and pleasure at the same time, just the right amount.

“For you... Just for you...” You said under your breath, your hands hovering over his.

Before you could think of anything to say, he leaned into you, holding you tightly and preventing any way you could come up with to get away from him, not that you were even thinking of doing that.

“Pretty little thing...” He grunted, pressing his erection into the middle of your ass, rubbing against you hard, as if he were some animal in heat, out of control, feral. He kissed your jaw, open-mouthed, his breath on your face, his face so close to yours.

You could already feel your mind fogging up, unable to form anything coherent.

He was so focused on it, he didn't even see that you were wetting his jeans, soaking wet, already making a mess of his pants.

“Fucking hell....” He almost hissed behind you, before you could protest he lowered two fingers to your wet surface, teasing you.In a matter of seconds you had two thick fingers hovering over your entrance.

Simon was such a bastard that he knew what you wanted, so he began to tease you slowly, just putting his fingertips into your entrance, only to withdraw them later.

“Si-” you whimper, turning your head a little to look at him in a sly way.And well done, those little eyes sent a wave of warmth straight to his cock.

With your little moan you managed to get him to start massaging your clit in circles, your pussy getting even wetter.

The next thing you felt were his lips trailing down your back, leaving hot, wet kisses, completely sloppy. His hot, uneven breathing on your skin was enough to make your pussy clench into nothing, you wouldn't doubt that you could cum for him for so little.

“You're so beautiful....So beautiful...” He whispered, leaving a trail of hot kisses all over your back, going down and down, leaving a trail of goosebumps everywhere his lips touched.

He was aching, hard as a rock, but he was damned if he wasn't going to taste you before he did anything else.

From kiss to kiss he made his way to your pussy, kneeling behind you as he stared at your glistening hole.

Your legs trembled as he gave your cunt a lingering kiss, the direct contact of his lips with your bottom lips was enough to make your knees shake.The feeling increased even more when he put his tongue on your clit, caressing the sensitive little bud with his wet muscle.

You arched your hips, whimpering as he began to eat you out, in a way that only he knew how to do, not least because he knew every one of your weak points. He was too observant for that.

He took this as an incentive to continue, he began to lap you up like an animal, an animal that hadn't been dined for months.His hands spread your ass cheeks, opening you up in an obscene way, not that you minded. You were in heaven with his every lick, your cunt clenching around his tongue, your mind going a mile a minute as he pleasured you.

With every stroke he grunted behind you, the sounds coming from the back of his throat vibrating in your folds every time he produced them.Simon was a messy eater, your juices glistening on his chin as he fucked you, he kissed, sucked, licked, his mouth worked untold wonders on you.

He knew well enough when you were close, your tight pussy clenching and you whimpering even more, the sweet little moans that were better than anything he'd ever heard.

When you arched your hips once more, his nose going even deeper into your folds, his tongue darting in and out of your cunt, fucking you deliciously.

“Mh-T-Too close.” You stutter, feeling your legs begin to tremble at the sensation of your approaching orgasm.

“Cum.” He murmurs against your flesh, giving your pussy a long lick, only to start lapping at it again.And you obeyed like a puppy, squirting your juices into his mouth without any shame.

And he, even more shamelessly, swallowed it all, without spilling a drop. He literally licked you clean, keeping you nice and open to lick up everything you had to offer.His slurping sounds echoed in your ears, making you wet once again, as if you were a fucking well full of water, always leaking.

“Nice and clean.” Simon murmured, leaning back a little to see the work he'd done, his lips were all wet with your juices, but for him it was a more than delicious sensation.

Well, yeah, you were clean, just for him to get you dirty one more time. His to mess up.

Behind you, the sound of him undoing his pants echoed in the bathroom, making you shiver in anticipation. In fact, you hadn't even been able to stop your legs from shaking after your orgasm.

The soft 'thump' of his belt made you turn your body back a little, watching him undress.He smiled in a cheeky way, not at all ashamed to show off his big, muscular body.

The bastard was cocky enough to know that he had you salivating.And it was no lie.You got all hot and bothered when his jeans fell down, along with his boxers. It was quite a sight. His defined, muscular thighs, and they were so fucking thick.

Not to mention the sign of his cock, all hard and aroused, already leaking pre-cum. It had a pink tip, it was big, large and veiny. Sometimes you wondered how you could handle it.Simon was a big man in every way.

“Don't make me wait...” You whispered, feeling your cunt tighten just looking at him.

If it were any other man, you'd be disgusted at the sight of a full bush, but with Simon you'd get so wet, just remembering the friction you felt when he rubbed against you.

“Don't worry your pretty little head.” He said, patting your pussy, turning you forward once more.Behind you, you could feel the movements of his hand, the strokes he gave his own member, slowly and lazily, all he wanted to do was sink into you.

After a few strokes, he placed the tip of his cock at your entrance, rubbing against you. His pre-cum mixed with your fluids, making a delicious mess that he loved so much.

“Gonna put in, yeah?” he said softly, wrapping an arm around you, his hand gripping your throat and forcing you backwards.His hand was so big it could cover your entire throat, his fingers lifting your chin and forcing your gaze to his, making you even wetter somehow.

His other hand held his hard length in his hands, gently but surely guiding it into you, the tip of it entering you and stretching you, the delicious stretching you did to accommodate him.He pushed in as far as he could, as deep as he could until he was buried deep inside you.

Once he was all the way inside you, he stopped, giving you time to get used to his size as he always did.But today, you don't know what the hell came over you, you couldn't wait, your body and mind begging and pleading for him to move.

“Si....Please?Please...” You beg like a slut with no self-respect, acting exactly like one.

Fuck. To hell with everything.

When he heard you begging so nicely like that, how could he be capable of saying no?His answer was a sharp thrust, drawing out the sweetest of moans, making your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hit all your sweet spots at once.

“Tight as fuck, never changes.” He growls, using the hand that was previously holding his cock to curl around your hips.

Soon you had his fingers on your clit, making small circles, just the right size for you to see stars every time he thrust and massaged you all at once.Your already jumbled mind couldn't think of anything else, all you knew was that your pussy was being deliciously filled, in a way that only he knew how to do. No one else.

Your mouth was hanging open, letting out the most filthy moans, your arms holding on to the wall of the stall, trying to keep yourself upright as he pounded into you, hard.His balls slamming into you was such a dirty, impure sound.

You didn't even want to think what anyone would think if they heard what was happening in that stall.His cock slipped in and out of you, several times Simon took his entire length out of you, just to shove it in all at once. To have the opportunity to see your pussy swallow his cock in one go.

“You're going to get my cock wet, yeah? Are you going to be a good girl and do that?” He asks in your ear, rubbing his nose against your ear.

You tightened around him, letting out another whimper. He gave you a little grin, pulling your hair with his hand, and as soon as he was face to face with you, he kissed you hard.It was a hot kiss, with everything involved, Simon was a completely different man when he was aroused, and he showed it very well.

With the searing kiss, you felt the familiar excitement building in the pit of your stomach. Simon didn't feel much different, at least not with the sensation of your walls nestling him, keeping him comfortable and warm.

It wouldn't take him long to fill you, but you came first.Then his hand slid down to your clit, not leaving you quiet for a second, massaging hard on your swollen bud, making you go to heaven and hell at the same time.

Your gasps were swallowed up by his mouth, his tongue invading your mouth as he slammed into you. His rhythm was brutal, he moved back and forth with no mercy for you, the sloppy thrusts leaving you without a ground.

His fingers on your clit, the hot fucking kisses he was giving you right now, the way he was fucking you, all of it was leading you down one path. And you couldn't help it, there you were, cumming for him once again.You creamed on his cock, wetting his length as you moaned his name like a prayer.

“Good girl.” He purred into your lips, biting back a moan of his own as you tightened around him.

He followed right behind, cumming inside you without any warning, spurting his seed inside you, filling you up.Your legs went wobbly and you almost lost your balance, but he was quick to hold you up, giving you all the support you needed.

“You did good, sweet girl... So good.” He whispers tenderly, kissing you all over your face.

It was so domestic, him whispering and reassuring you softly, saying sweet nothings to you. It would be cute if you didn't have your cunt dripping with his cum, making his eyes darken every time he looked down.

The minutes seemed to pass slowly as the two of you stood like that, holding each other, relaxing as the high subsided.

And you held back so as not to say anything you'd regret later, and he bit his lip so as not to let out a simple, but true 'I love you'.But nothing lasts forever, and you knew you were going to have to leave.

He didn't want to be a jerk, and he wasn't going to leave you alone after having sex with you. That would be completely stupid. But it caused Simon to change from water to wine.

So he helped you clean up and put your clothes back on, waiting for you to say goodbye to your friends so he could take you home. At this point it was every person for themselves, Simon was clearly trying to keep his distance, and he was succeeding.However much it hurt.

The ride to your apartment was silent, nothing but the sound of his motorcycle going back and forth in the city, it was boring, but at least he was with you.

He was even a gentleman, taking you to the door of your apartment, hoping that you were inside, safe and sound. As you should have been.

“Aren't you coming in?” You ask quietly, looking at him almost shyly.

There was no pride in you that was greater than the desire to spend a night with him. Hugging each other, holding each other as if it were the last time.

He looked at you, those dead eyes that carried so many emotions at that moment. But he wasn't going to weaken, not now, no matter how much his heart begged him to accept the offer.

“I just came to bring you home.” He repeated, his fingers itching to caress your cheeks, cup your face and shower you with kisses.But he couldn't.

And that hurt more than any bullet.

He doesn't give you a chance to say anything, he just walks away and takes one last look at you over his shoulder.In the blink of an eye he was already in the elevator, leaving once again.

After that you knew for sure that Simon was an incognito, but something was wrong. He wouldn't act like that, it wasn't like him.

Maybe he'd really had enough of you, and you're too proud to admit defeat. But if he's got something, you'll find out.Even if it means pestering his work colleagues.

But really, not that Simon has noticed, but you're sure he wouldn't do much without his wallet for long.

Oh, and you kind of took it as an excuse to have something to see him.

He'd probably be on your doorstep the next day.

[quixtrix]

dolph was always meant to be doomed; something of an analysis

i'm on my third rewatch of captain laserhawk, and on this one i've been focusing more on the little details that you don't get on your first or even second time watching it. i've noticed little things, such as pey'j helping and then going on to shield a hybrid who's dressed similarly to jade in the third episode. but i've also noticed bigger things, such as alex and dolph.

keep in mind that this show is just filled to the brim with political messaging, it was purposefully designed that way. so when someone mentioned on here that alex was an accelerationist, it explained a lot. we don't know much about alex in terms of his backstory, we only know he helped dolph after dolph attempted to mug him and they ended up falling in love. it's also implied that alex and dolph have been repeatedly reported on the news as terrorists more than we've seen, with rayman referring to them as being the usual suspects when the kaiju attack happened, despite dolph literally not even being there when alex did that shit. they're known to do this shit, and we know alex is a charismatic guy. it's not too far fetched to say once or while dolph was falling in love with this gayass white saviour saint that alex talked him into this shit for alex's own purposes. because yes, he has a cause, but he's also a bit in over his head, maybe with power. he's aware of the power he has over dolph, how he actively uses the 'i love you' card multiple times when they're together and when they're not together. he just had a bit too much confidence in his hold over dolph, but to be fair, alex, you were topping some indulgent mob boss for your cause (because let's be honest of course your sources would be tight if they were being fucked for it) then continued fucking said mob boss and got caught with your dick out by your ex who you think you can get back with. alex uses people as tools, he just doesn't put his shit in the right places at the right times.

i'm getting off track, but the point i'm getting to is that alex most definitely saw dolph, a man who clearly has some jacked up eden tech smacked onto his twink ass, at his lowest, and picked him up like a shiny new toy. he was always going to use dolph. but how come dolph is so easy to use? he's starved for kindness. he's the stray dog that comes up to you at restaurants to act all nonchalant because 95% of the time he gets neglected, but the second he gets offered scraps, he shows how hungry he is. we don't know much about his childhood, and what we do know is under the lenses of literal eden propaganda. we do however know how people get like underneath the hand of eden.

everyone say thanks to rayman, who concidentally, is dolph's foil. both of them worked under eden as their lap dogs, one as a propagandist and the other as military, but dolph had gotten out of the hold the propaganda had on him while rayman's barely shaking it off. both of them are also portrayed as poor little tragic immigrants and the impoverished stand ins both in universe and story wise. they're the feel good picking yourself up american dream stories that people can feel inspired by or feel proud about the country with. dolph had a photo with a kid holding a doll of him. before he became ex military, he was definitely the guy they paraded around as a previous lost cause that eden helped. red, who's as political as his assigned colour, bitches about identity politics in that one off line for a reason. he also jus hates brown people fr he kicked me down a flight of stairs

now we can assume that dolph had picked himself up out of the propaganda machine somehow. he realised he was used and he didn't want that shit. he's attempting to get himself his own life, for fucks sake. he jus happened to get lead on by the wrong guy, which then lead him to get used by eden AGAIN. this time not only in a physical way via soldier work, but emotionally too, with sarah easily manipulating him with what? a sob story and helping him out, maybe being friendly with him along the way.

he wants a normal life. he wants a goddamn normal life. he jus continues to be selected as a tool.

you can see how fucking starved he is for kindness. you ever think about the fact that in his dream life, he sees jade and pey'j? he knew these people for less than a week, yet they get a place in his dream life. most notably, jade gets a speaking role in his dream life. the only other person who speaks, besides marcus, is alex, someone who had known him and shown kindness to him. jade has also shown kindness to dolph. she's the friendliest face there in the ghosts, being the first one to check on dolph when he wakes up, offers an explanation to him, and also makes an effort to include him in her little shenanigans with the video and all!! dolph was all emo alpha wolf and all, but despite his constant cold shoulder, she was kind!!

there was someone who was more than kind though; bullfrog. because bullfrog actively looked out for dolph, despite his constant pushback against bullfrogs advice whenever they weren't separated. and in the end, it's bullfrogs kindness and compassion that hits dolph the deepest. dolph gets out of his depressive state to go back for bullfrog. he cares about people, he goes out of his way to do shit for the people who show him the slightest bit of kindness. he backed up sarah after one good conversation with her to marcus for fucks sake. dolph is just a guy who keeps getting used though. he's so loyal to anyone who looks his way that it's a fatal flaw that ends up with his head blown up. he's a shakespearean tragedy at the moment. i hope in the potential season 2 that he gets to have more moments where he gets to be his own person. not defined by an organisation or a person or a cause, but what he chooses to define himself by. he's on his way there. he jus deserves to be allowed to live for himself. after all, he has already met his end of that story. he can make a new one.

anyways if u reached the end of this im down to discuss this :D i also did get a few points from other people on here, but let me know what u think nd all

[stinkysam]

Hughie Campbell - Stay out of it.

Warning : nsfw, top!reader, spit as lube, no protection

Genre : smut

Synopsis : “Could you write male reader having sex with hughie to "help him relax"?” -anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

Hughie couldn't sleep. Recently, he's been thinking about the past months with the boys.

Since Robin’s death, his life has been nothing but gore and murder, with an occasional good day thanks to you. And being with the boys made sure death and blood were the only constant to get his revenge. Though at times, he wasn't sure he really wanted it.

He had killed Translucent, was wanted by the government and his dad kept calling him, probably to know why his son's picture was displayed on the news, calling him a terrorist.

His mind was racing, Butcher was gone and the group found itself frozen in place, not really knowing what to do in his absence, so he got up from his shitty bed and left their hiding place, making sure his hood covered his face as he walked into the rainy night.

He walked and walked, his shoes taking in the water through his destroyed soles, socks wet, making footprints on the dry carpet that leads to your apartment's door, and knocked a few times, waiting for you to open.

“Hughie ?” You said quietly, voice hoarse with sleep as you watched him through the peephole before unlocking and slightly opening the door “What are you doing here ?”

He smiled briefly, waiting for you to let him in but you stood your ground, you had seen the news. He stared at you, a bit surprised by the cold demeanor, but that was to be expected. After all, you didn't know.

“You're wanted by the government.” You added.

“I- please, I'll explain everything, but let me in.” He said, tilting his head to the side, removing his hood, hoping you would listen to him. “It's about supes.”

You frowned, confused, before sighing and pushing yourself from the entrance, allowing him in. Hughie thanked you quietly as he walked in, closing behind himself, thanking you again.

“Remember when I told you my ex-girlfriend died ? It wasn't… a natural death.” He started and you looked at him, more confusion blooming in your mind as you sat at the table in your kitchen, trying to understand what Robin's death had to do with supes and him being a terrorist.

He sat in front of you and continued talking, telling you everything from the beginning, Robin’s actual death, meeting Butcher and Frenchie and killing Translucent before meeting M.M and later Kimiko and Starlight, all while being shown how little supes care for human life or how dangerous they are, and mainly how dangerous Homelander is.

You remained still as you listened carefully, slowly understanding all the secrets he had refused to share, the secret phone calls or texts, why he suddenly stopped going to work and what he did when he wasn't with you. Why he always changed the TV’s channel each time there was something about supes ; documentaries, interviews, movies, music videos, ads.

You didn’t know how to react, not expecting anything of this in the slightest. You thought he had killed Robin or something like that, hence why he was wanted by the government. You looked to the side, thinking.

“Are you safe ?” You finally asked, wondering where he stayed.

“Yeah, Frenchie found us a hiding place in the back of some small store. It’s mainly for smuggling but-” He shrugged and smiled. “It’s safe.”

You nodded as the silence fell once more before noticing how dark his clothes were. Fuck, it was raining outside.

“Do you- uh, want to take a shower ? You're soaking wet from the rain.”

Hughie looked down at himself, his clothes were still damp, sticking to his skin. He nodded awkwardly and you stood up, walking to the bathroom.

“Come !” You said, pulling a small and a larger towel from the compartment under the sinks, placing them on the surface next to the bathtub before walking out. He thanked you as you closed the door and he undressed himself before getting in the bathtub and turning the water on.

The water was hot on his skin, a bit too much, he lowered the heat a slightly, rubbing his head with your shampoo.

Hughie sighed, now wondering if it had been the right idea to tell you everything. You could lose your life if you decided to work with him, and knowing you, he knew you would refuse to stay back and watch, preferring to fight for some sort of justice with him.

You knocked at the door.

“I have some clean clothes for you !” You said loudly for him to hear through the sound of the running water.

“Okay, you can come in !” He replied, instinctively hiding his dick as you pushed the door open, quickly putting a small pile of clothes on the closed toilet before walking out, closing behind yourself.

When Hughie walked out with the clothes you gave him, you were laying on your bed, still thinking, slowly digesting the news. You called him, letting him know where you were and he quickly joined you, laying on his stomach, facing you.

“Are you… mad ?” He asked quietly, trying to know what you were thinking.

“No.” You shook your head. “You told me the truth, it's just… a lot.”

“Maybe I shouldn't have told you, it's just- Butcher is God knows where and the team refuses to listen to me, only Annie tries to help me but it's super dangerous for her, Homelander is so close, he could find out and kill her at any moment.” He ranted, and your hand went to his back, rubbing him soothingly.

“Annie ? Starlight ?” You asked, not knowing the supe's real name.

“Yes.”

“Maybe it's a sign for you to stop ?” You tried, not believing in your own words and knowing he would continue anyway.

“A sign ? I thought you didn’t believe in them ?” He said and you shrugged.

“Sometimes I do. When it suits me.” You said with a laugh. He smiled, humming, thinking. “Why did you tell me ? If it's not to look for a way out ?”

“I like you. And I don't want our relationship to have… secrets. I don't want to ruin things because I didn't tell you about this part of my life.”

“But you don't want me to meet the group ? Right ? Too dangerous ?”

“Yes. I want you to know but I don't want you to get hurt or die because you helped us. So I'm asking you this, please, go back to your job tomorrow and live your life normally. I promise I'll try to stay out of trouble.” He said, his hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek. “Though nothing is happening at the moment so saying out of trouble will be easy.”

“So you just want my support, but from a distance.”

“...Yeah. You promise me you'll stay out of this ?”

You sighed, thinking. You couldn't really sit there and let him face danger alone. But he wasn't alone, he had the boys with him. And they knew how to use guns, they knew how to defend themselves. Maybe if Butcher never comes back, the group will slowly dismantle itself and Hughie will stay out of danger ?

“I… can try…” You said, unsure. But Hughie didn't seem to want that for an answer.

“No, I really want you to stay out of it. I can't lose you too-”

“Okay. I promise I'll stay out of it.” You replied. Though you had agreed, you weren't sure if you could live with that choice.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Though he seemed to relax, Hughie was still stressed, still wondering if it was the right thing to do, playing with his fingers as he imagined the worst case scenarios. He was starting to stress you out even more than you already were.

You sat up and scooted closer to him before beginning to rub his back over his shirt.

“I told you, I promise I'll stay out. You have nothing to fear.” You said, your fingers moving up and down his spine, playing with the bumps of his vertebrae. “Nothing will happen.”

You leaned down and kissed his shoulder, your hands rubbing them and massaging his back, hearing him groan while slowly relaxing, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Your hand slid under his shirt, feeling his hot skin on your palms, still a bit moist from the shower, as you continued to massage him. Your fingers tickled lightly his sides as they moved from his shoulder-blades to his hips while you planted kisses on his back, moving his shirt up so your lips could touch his skin, making a trail of kisses on his spine.

You continued like this for a few minutes, Hughie letting out small sighs as you caressed him gently until he slightly moved his hips, resting on his side.

“Something's wrong ?” You asked and Hughie began to stammer, that's when you saw his ‘problem’.

“No. It's uh- There's- I'm… hard.” He said, feeling embarrassed before quickly apologizing. “It's just- it feels really good and-”

“It's fine.” You cut him off, chuckling quietly. “Want to do something about it ?” You asked, moving your hands lower, fingers pulling at his boxers.

Hughie nodded, turning around to lay on his back as he looked at your left hand, now resting on his bulge. You squeezed it lightly, running your hand against him before sliding under his pants, stroking him. He exhaled, his head falling back as he let you touch him, bucking slightly into you, feeling his dick harden more and more, pulsing at your touch.

Your thumb rubbed his tip, playing with the slit, your palm moving up and down on his length. He whined, moving his legs to roll his hips.

With your free hand you pushed his pants away as you continued to jerk him slowly. You moved his legs and put two of your fingers in your mouth, coating them with saliva before teasing his hole. He tensed up a bit before slowly relaxing, allowing you to push a finger inside him.

Hughie groaned, grimacing as your index was fully in, his ass clenching around you and his cock jumping in your hand. You began to move your finger at the same pace you were jerking him, slowly, giving him time to adjust to the sensation. He whined and sighed, nodding at you so you could move faster, you curled your finger inside him, earning a loud moan.

He moaned again when you added a second finger, his legs closing, thighs squeezing your wrist as you continued to caress him, beads of pre-come gliding down his length.

You moved your fingers in and out of him, curling them against his sweet spot each time, ripping pretty moan after pretty moan. He opened his legs again, bucking into your hand, wanting more.

You pulled your fingers out of him, making him whine and pushed your pants down before jerking yourself a couple times, sighing and aligning yourself between his legs, your tip pushing against his hole before slowly entering him. Hughie hissed, you felt him clench around you as you leaned down to pepper his face with kisses, helping him relax as you bottomed out.

After a bit you began to thrust into him, kissing his jaw and neck as he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close. He moaned your name quietly, cursing under his breath each time you pushed yourself in, your tip hitting deep inside him.

You wrapped a hand around his dick, jerking him, thumb playing with his tip, rubbing his frenulum and corona of glans, more pre pooling out, slowly gathering on your hand.

Hughie rolled his hips, trying to fuck your hand while you fastened the pace, your body slapping against him.

“I'm close-” He moaned, eyes closed in pleasure as you continued hitting his prostate. You hummed, pulling him into a kiss as his mouth opened abruptly to let another moan out as he came, ropes cum spurting on his stomach and your hand.

His ass clenched tightly around you, allowing you to come inside him, your hips stuttering a bit before slowing down and stopping.

Hughie sighed, catching his breath as you did the same and pulled out, walking out of the room to grab a washcloth to clean him.

He watched as you wiped his stomach and his ass before throwing it in the basket of dirty laundry, laying down next to him once more.

Your hand landed on his chest, caressing him softly as he smiled at you before moving closer, wrapping his arms around you.

You kissed him, pulling away to turn off the light and went back into his arms, content. As you fell asleep you remembered your discussion, feeling still torn with your decision to not interfere. You don't know how long you'll be able to keep your promise.

[kvtnisseverdeen]

This is my humble take…

Joe Alwyn was Taylor’s best boyfriend. She knows this and her fans know this. But he demands actual work and accountability. Taylor is a white rich conservative girl first and foremost. And she’s very narcissist. Joe is the first boyfriend of hers to put actually limits on how her public personal affects him and their relationship. And she liked dating him at first because he was private and reserved and she was desperately trying to scape the industry and she found the most non-industry British man ever. She liked that security and knowing he didn’t attract that much attention. Then, she slowly gained her reputation back on track and realized that she could finally go back to being the person that plays for the media again. And yes, maybe her relationship with Joe was slowly fading — it happens a lot. But she clearly says in her lyrics that wanting to be shown off in public is one of the reasons too. Because she likes that every relationship she’s in gets consumed by her fans and the media.

And Joe Alwyn required her to go and do some work on herself! He comes from a very activist family. He was the one that made her be more open about social activism. It was because of him that she tried to do the bare minimum like encouraging during elections, have more racially diverse people on her music videos and tours, and do a very cringey job at supporting lgbt rights. But it was at least something…

Isn’t funny that the moment they broke up she went back to being very problematic? The climate terrorist that she’s been for the pass year and then wanting to sue people for spreading her private flights information (knowing this is public information). Then dating that racist man that mocked woman of color and admitted to watch what he did, being quiet about the war that’s going on, and the lame and immature issue she created over some of Olivia Rodrigo’s songs (a literal new artist and teenager at the time) to the point she cut total ties with her and her next man being a very typical conservative macho man that seems to love the attention just like her. She’s back at being who she’s always been…

“Your integrity makes me feel small” Yes, Taylor, indeed. I am glad you know this too.

oh you absolutely have said it all. this is extremely well said and on point.

i find it so odd that most swifties can't pinpoint that the real issue between joe and taylor was taylor once again giving into the industry and being a rich white capitalist which is something joe is not and does not want to be, and most likely caused the demise of their relationship. taylor herself has said this in her songs (like the lyrics in peace, as you said). so yeah, maybe she wanted marriage but joe probably wasn't comfortable marrying someone who had completely different morals than him which is his right. let's be real here.

and oh the relationship between her and travis probably set her "redemption arc" far back than ever. she really was finally speaking up on so many matters and now she's dating a problematic trump supporter, giving into the media frenzy with the NFL, and has done no activism despite having the biggest platform. i think what sucked the most was her being times person of the year and using it to talk about travis and how she wasted 6 years of her life being private. so disappointing. and the cherry on top are some of the lyrics from ttpd (ex. 1830s racism lyric) like WHAT?

another thing swifties misinterpret is that no one would've known joe if it wasn't for taylor and that he's living off of his songwriting credits from folklore/evermore. joe who is notoriously low-key and has stated he just wants to be seen as human never used taylor for clout and has avoided saying her name in interviews, even after the break-up. not because he didn't love her, but because he did not want to feed into the media frenzy. and if all eyes are on him, he's using it to make a statement about palestine which is amazing. sure, you may not have known joe alwyn if it wasn't for taylor but he never used taylor's fame to make him more famous. and might i argue, it was taylor who despite releasing positive songs about him sometimes didn't defend him (like in the folklore sessions where jack antonoff was obviously being rude to him? or how she told her fans not to go after john mayor releasing speak now tv but didn't say anything for joe when her fans have been harassing him like crazy?)

on the other hand, we have travis kelce who has most definitely brought her up in every capacity like on his brothers podcast and let's be real, most of the swifties didn't know who travis was (i didn't!) unless they were football fans. we saw proof of that when NFL sales and viewership was significantly higher. so yes, travis is using her name for clout and feeding into the media frenzy. and then you have swifties saying he loves her and supports which yes, can be true, but you cannot deny that taylor and travis' relationship fed the media, fed the NFL, and diverted attention from more important issues like gaza. and while taylor and travis had their eyes on them, they didn't use it to do any good.

so yes, you are right. joe was taylor's best boyfriend.

[littlefankingdom]

I need y'all to understand that Bruce is not a normal billionaire. He is a billionaire because it's useful to the plot, but he is not a billionaire like our billionaires. Don't make him say or do shits billionaires do, he is not like that.

I just have enough of the posts and fics where people makes Bruce pro-capitalist, a finance bro with nfts or against leftist ideas like free housing because "the economy 😭😭". That's not him at all, and y'all are showing that you only saw the Lego Batman movie.

First, Bruce pays his taxes and hates that other rich don't. It is shown in Future State: Dark Detective, where he literally says that rich people who don't contribute to making society better kind of deserve to be killed by a vigilante. Murder is still bad, but he will not cry them AT ALL.

Second, Bruce hates how people abuse the housing markets, rising the prices, kicking out poor people, you know the drill. This is shown in Batman: White Knight, when Bruce PUNCHES his rich FRIEND at a gala after learning that the guy is buying properties in Crime Alley, kicks the poor people out and build new apartments complexes with rent way too high for the old residents. In Gotham Knights (the comics), he tests Lucius by playing the normal rich asshole and being like "we can't take money from the shareholders, these hard working folks, to help the poor", because he wants to see if it will make Lucius angry. Once it does, he is like "good, you should be" and tell him he will sign it. Not being mad at the inequalities in the world is not acceptable for Bruce.

Thirdly, Batman: The Animated Series often establishes how the real vilains are not the rogues but rich people. Bruce doesn’t disagree with Poison Ivy or Mr Freeze, but with their methods. Bruce doesn’t hate his rogues, because he knows they were pushed to a corner, but he hates the rich in charge. The owner of a company is shown to be a bad guy because he doesn't think his workers deserve to have a say in the company. Seriously, if BTAS was made today, we would be submerged with tweets and videos from people crying that they made Batman a communist.

Fourthly, while we are at it with BTAS, Bruce cares about the environment. I have seen this terrible panel of Bruce, as Batman, being mad that Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn destroyed a WE factory who was heavily polluting, which is ooc. In BTAS, Bruce is shown threatening to fire WE higher-ups because they made a partnership with a company hurting the environment. This partnership is why Poison Ivy targets him in the episode and tries to kill him, btw, which shows once again that they agree on the matter, it's the murder the problem. Outside of BTAS, must I remind everyone that Bruce was going to marry Talia Al Ghul and that Ra's Al Ghul saw a heir in him??? Like, he has to be a bit of an ecologist for ECO-TERRORISTS to love him this much. Also, Alfred said to Dick when he joined their household that Alfred wants ecological issues to be taken care of. No way would Bruce not has been raised to care about the environment, or would harm the planet knowing Alfred doesn't like it.

Finally, WE has multiple charities and organizations dedicated to help people in Gotham. WE gives jobs to ex-convicts and help them in getting rehabilitate. Bruce feeds, clothes and houses the poor, he pays for any damage done by vigilantes or rogues. He has money to give and he gives it. AND all the galas exist so he can take money from the rich to give to the poor. He even encourages Dick in Nightwing (2016) to manipulate as much as possible his guests to milk their money. Bruce wants to take from the rich to help the poor, that's always been the case.

[mary-games-and-arts]

AvA/M Cast Redesign

Phew, well.. I DID IT I REDESIGNED EVERYONE! Time to present them all again, but this time with some more info, right?

Color Gang

Green (He/him) - 17 y.o. | Let's say he's literally a perfectionist okay? Green is the one of a protective friend but can annoy his brother Red sometimes. His love of his life is Blue

Yellow (She/her) - 16 y.o. | A girl who knows everything about redstone, Minecraft commands and style. Has a twin sister Pinkie (Keep in mind that Pinkie is not a canon character. She's my AvM OC). Also Yellow has a partner Red

The Second Coming/TSC/Second/Orange (He/They) - 17 y.o. | A sleepyhead but somehow understands math and physics(unlike me ;v;). They're really overprotective over their friends and have their own powers but they're not aware of them(let's say AvA VI didn't happen yet). Chosen is Second's sister. Also Sec is in love with Purple

Blue (She/her) - 16 y.o. | Really knows her thing when it comes to brewing potions and gardening. Has bandages cuz AvM Ep. 20 events. Can get worried if anyone of the gang gets sick. Loves Green and his tunes

Red (He/him) - 15 y.o. | Apparently the youngest one of the group. He's a clumsy guy and also a prankster. Got possessed by Herobrine twice. Was in a timeout once cuz messed with Yellow's staff and the lucky block. Yellow is his girlfriend and Green is his brother. Oh and his pets are his friends

The Royal Duo + The Angelic Trio

Purple (She/They) - 16 y.o. | A little shy but very nice girl. Considers MT as her older sister. Still has trust issues but is trying to fix it. Cherishes her dead mother Orchid and doesn't give a damn about her dad RB. Second is her boyfriend

MT/Mango Tango/Queen Orange (She/her) - 20 y.o. | A young adult who was a queen once just to destroy Minecraft cuz it took away her little brother Gold. Tries to move on from Gold's death and now considers Purple as her younger sis. She's on neutral terms with Color Gang. Her husband is actually an Enderman named Jacob (Tulip said that we can have our own Jacob so)

Gold (He/him) - 12 y.o. | A smol kid who is MT's brother and had unfortunately died from Minecraft. Observes his sister and spends his time with Orchid and Victim. Sometimes wishes he could hug MT one last time

Orchid (She/her) - 38 y.o. | A caring woman who is also Purple's mother. Has no empathy for RB cuz he left her and Purple. Unfortunately died from an unknown disease and now observes her child from above

Victim (They/Them) - 25 y.o. | A guy who never experienced life for once. Tries to develop themselves and find their own personality and hobbies. Currently is friends with Orchid and Gold

RB, Alan and The AvA Duo

RB (He/him) - 40 y.o. | A ex-husband of Orchid and ex-dad for Purple. Left cuz he thought his daughter was "pathetic and would never protect herself from any danger"

Alan (He/him) - 35 y.o. | The creator himself of the whole AvA/M community. Considers Chosen and Second as his kids, but also has a real life family

The Dark Lord/TDL/Dark (She/her) - 18 y.o. | The terrorist of the whole Internet herself and Alan is her creator. She was created to defeat Chosen but she teamed up with them and confronted Alan. Somehow survived Second's attack and now is trying to change. Has a girlfriend Chosen

The Chosen One/TCO/Chosen (She/They) - 19 y.o. | The Chosen One herself who just wants to live peacefully with Dark after all the trauma she endured. Saved a kid once and now friends with her. Is currently being wanted by Rocket Corporation. Dark is her girlfriend

The Rocket Corporation

Hazard (He/They) - literally a robot- | A restored robot who can control electricity as his power. He's also a part of the mercenary team

Agent Smith (He/him) - 24 y.o. | The main mercenary of the corporation who can use any Adobe Animate tool. Has a small crush on Vic

Alive!Vic (They/them) - 25 y.o. | The first stick ever created by Alan that somehow came to life to get the revenge they so desperately want. They're a leader of a whole corporation and they hunt for Chosen cuz she knows where Alan is

Ballista (He/him) - 27 y.o. | The shortest mercenary of the team. He can turn his head into a tank and also adores his big pixel sword

Primal (She/her) - 28 y.o. | The tallest mercenary and the only woman in the team. Is good at archery and can get buff if needed

[deathlygurgles]

Two Hour Story

No one plans for the end of the world, it just happens. It was just another catastrophic shock in the black hole that was his life, layers upon layers of disappointment and mishaps just kept piling on and he knew most of his own misfortune was because of his own mistakes. Like forgetting his birth control or not using a condom and driving away his loving boyfriend because of his own frustrations.

It was almost unbelievable, after taking months to get past the initial shock of finding out that he was carrying a life inside of him and forcing a sort of solitude upon himself without his boyfriend that the TV switched to a blaring message about national safety. At first, he had thought it was one of those old drills he had seen as a kid, but he knew it wasn't as outside his house the emergency sirens blared and his blood ran cold at the sound when he sat up from his cocoon on the couch and struggled free of the sheets.

Moving so quickly wasn't an easy feat for him, not when he was nearly nine months pregnant and according to his last check up way above prime weight. He blamed himself once again for being so overweight even before he was pregnant, but his focus was taken off of his own pity for a moment as he looked outside his bedroom window where the families across the street were tossing bags into the backs of their cars and shoving their kids into the back seats. It was serious, must be, of course, it was with the sirens and what was on his TV, he felt sick to his stomach with fear as he hurried back over to flip to the news station.

They were talking about terrorists or anarchists or something and for a moment he thought it was actually happening, the nukes everyone joked about online and complained about not needing. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard his doorbell ring before someone frantically banged on his door, moving to grab his phone off of the nightstand to see he had 37 missed calls and texts, "Shit." They were all from his boyfriend, his ex, no not his ex they hadn't really broken it off, he was downstairs waiting for him. Saving him or something of the sort.

He grabbed a clean shirt and changed into it as quickly as he could, pulling on some sweats with more of a struggle than he wished before he was waddling out of his room towards the living room with another few impatient rings of the doorbell and blows to the door. "Phillip! Open up!" It was definitely his boyfriend and he was serious, from the tone of his voice and the harshness of his raps, he guessed that he was still in a sort of shock. Just not moving as fast as he wished he could as he finally unlocked and opened the door, "For fucksake, Phil, I thought-"

They both didn't really know what he had thought but he could guess when his boyfriend wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug that left him breathless before he let go of him, "What's happening?"He asked in a weak voice, just seeing him there at his front door worried about him left his heart in his throat, though the other didn't respond before he pushed his way inside the house and closed the door behind him. "Marshal, what the hell is going on?"

"I'm getting your stuff, we've got to get out of the city."He said as he was jogging to his bedroom, their bedroom, Phillip stood there dumbfounded and just as confused as before, "What- Why?"He asked and followed behind his boyfriend to see him grabbing one of his suitcases and stuffing clothes into it then going to his bathroom to do the same with products, his hand went to his belly.

"They're bombing the place, haven't you seen the news?"He asked and gestured to the TV that was still on, the pregnant one blinked and felt his shock wash over into fear as he paled, Marshal didn't stop packing though, and went to the closet, "Where's your birthing bag?"While he threw things out of the closet.

"I-I-"He swallowed and the hand on his belly dropped lower to support the weight of his stomach after standing for even a few moments, the baby had dropped days ago but how were they going to have a baby fleeing terrorists or whatever the hell was going on, "It's in there."He said after a few moments of his boyfriend looking for it and finally dragging the duffle bag out of the closet, turning to Phillip again to see him panicked.

"Hey, it's okay. We're getting out of here, we've got hours before the explosion. We can get out of here."He held his face and kissed him as he lowered his head just a bit to face the shorter, stockier man, his hands going down to meet his on his belly, "We'll get to my parent's house in the next state, their's a hospital right next to them."He didn't wait for a response as he nodded at his pregnant boyfriend and kissed him again before grabbing the bags and leaving the room, "Come on, put on your shoes."

Phillip moved then to hurry and follow behind Marshal, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on as he slipped his feet into his shoes, hissing as his stomach felt uneasy and his hand pressed more against the bump. His fat had stretched around his womb and it was obvious he was pregnant even though some people still just thought he had one big beer belly. It was tight beneath his hand and he leaned against the doorframe briefly as he watched Marshal pack up the back of his truck, "Come on, Phil, you can make it..."

He wasn't sure what was wrong with him at first, he had been eating some strange combinations for his cravings, maybe he just had to go, but this... He shut his eyes and breathed for a few moments, convincing himself it was just the stress as he shut his door behind himself and waddled his way over to the passengers' side door where Marshall helped him climb inside. Then went around to climb into the driver's side where he started up the truck and pulled off out of his driveway, he looked back in the side mirror and wondered just how long it would be until he would be back home or if it would even be there when they got back. If the baby came now they wouldn't have anything but a few changes of clothes for them, he guessed it was a good thing he could lactate.

It took hours to get out of the city with the traffic from all the people who had just the same idea as they did and the panic that was ensuing after the threat, they were still on the highway miles away from Marshall's parents or any close civilization when he knew something was happening to him. There had been pangs still and he tried to hold them in, ignoring them and shifting to a different position or pulling out his phone to check the time, but the tactics were slowly seizing to work altogether, they had been listening to the radio and it was slowly annoying him. Though he knew it was keeping them updated on what was happening in the city he could barely pay attention, his back was aching so much and he could only sit back and pretend to be sleeping until it happened.

There was a sound behind them, faint but loud enough to be heard from miles away and he opened his eyes to look into the rearview mirror where this bright burning ball was falling down into the skyline of their city, "Marshal!"He looked over to his boyfriend who was looking too, traffic was stopped and everyone was watching as it fell from the sky, and yet only for a moment, his focus was brought away from the sight as he cried aloud finally. His head fell back and his hand pushed out to grasp onto anything solid as he felt something open up inside of him and his eyes went wide with fear, nails dug into the arm of his boyfriend and the fabric of the headrest behind him. "Oh... Oh fuck... Oh no no..."

Marshal's eyes were dragged away by the sound his boyfriend made, as bright light washed over them and he knew he needed to get them out of there, they couldn't marvel over the burning of the city with a baby coming out of Phillip. "Why didn't you tell me? For god sake, you're in labor and the fucking world is ending-"He was complaining but the pregnant man couldn't even defend himself as he whined and there was pressure right at his opening, he looked frantically to Marshal but his boyfriend was focused on the road even with his hand clutching his shoulder, "Just breathe, I know, I know it hurts, just breathe with me, okay?" The dark-haired man started breathing as Phillip watched him and tried to copy what he was doing for only a few moments before he was screaming again.

The chair was so uncomfortable now and he was panicked, the first baby wasn't supposed to come out so easily, not after just a few hours, but here he was trying to lift himself from his seat with the belt still stuck around him, tucked beneath his fat belly and his tits and he could barely breathe he was freaking out so much. "No...No no no...." He was muttering and whimpering and squirming in his seat, even as Marshal had moved to grip his hand, knowing he was there wasn't even a relief he felt as if he was watching himself from the outside in and he was so embarrassed. He couldn't control his own body, it hurt so bad and he was gnashing down on his teeth as he groaned, "Fuck! Fuck! I can't-"

"Yes, you can, you can, babe. I knew you could from the moment you told me. You can do this." Marshal said and he was driving on the edge of the road, past the people in cars watching the explosions behind him, almost full speed to get them to the nearest exit or anywhere.

"It's too soon!" Phillip was struggling to unbuckle himself as he felt their baby coming, he was wet and he knew his water had broken miles back, he had been denying the inevitable but now he had no choice but to obey what his body wanted. Even with his pants still on, fully clothed, this baby was coming, he was going to have to give birth into his pants and he couldn't stop it. "Gnhhh!"He grunted as his head came back and he was pushing finally, glorious pushing, the pressure coming down and down finally as he held himself up off of the chair, every muscle in his body straining. The veins in his neck and forehead bulging as he pushed with all his might, his body knew what it was doing and the baby did too as the unborn infant came down lower and lower.

Inside his boxers, he felt his slit spread open and the fabric of his boxers stretch as he pushed that head out of him, "Mnhh..."He knew he had to keep himself from collapsing, the baby was there and he didn't want to hurt them, he couldn't, he loved them too much and that love was what kept him going as he panted, "Ha...Ha... Ohhh...Oh, burns..."He moaned and he felt Marshal glancing at him every few moments, he couldn't stop driving to help and he didn't ask him to, he had done most of this alone anyway and he could birth alone too. Mostly, at least, his nails dug into Marshal's skin and he heard his boyfriend hiss but he cried aloud over the sound as the head came with a rush of fluids and he braced his foot against the dashboard. Keeping himself hovering as that large baby head could be seen from the imprint in his soaking wet sweats, "Mngh..."

"Is it?" Marshal could barely finish before Philip was screaming again and the hand that had left its mark on his arm released its' death grip and frantically pushed at the sticky fabric of his pants, not caring who saw as the once-pregnant man moaned again. That head came forward more and this time when Marshal glanced he could see it as the neck came and then the shoulders and he almost crashed trying to watch it happen right there, the abnormally large baby squeezing its way out of its mother, first one shoulder and then another. Its chubby body was covered in whatever types of liquids Phillip had extruded finally slipping free and collapsing into the seat beneath Philip with a splash of fluids, almost instantly coming alive outside of the womb with shrill cries.

He couldn't believe his eyes and Philip couldn't believe his ears, nor the emptiness he felt within him, but the tugging of the cord between his legs brought him out of the reverie it was to have given birth, there wasn't any more pain, only ache and release as he reached down to feel that squirming little body. Their baby.

"What a fucking story to tell, "Marshal whispered and Phillip laughed as he weakly brought the child up into his arms through his thighs and his lowered pants and against his chest.

( originally posted for @/tummychallenge on Tumblr, reposting here on my alt writing account and also plugging my ao3)

[darth-mortem]

GhostSoap fic according to poll results.

Tired Ghost returns after several months on duty without Soap, who has been recovering from an injury. Despite the late hour, it’s not only Johnny who meets him at the airport. 2385 words.

Fluff, domestic, love, OC child, MDNI

Lieutenant Riley was deadly tired. He sat on the plane, sandwiched between a chatty old woman and a snoring man, and pretended to be asleep. He was wearing camouflage pants, military boots, and a black hoodie. His face was hidden by a fabric mask with a skull print and a hood. Simon looked menacing, but that didn’t stop the old woman from trying to talk to him, so pretending to be asleep was the lieutenant's only option to avoid the conversation.

You can keep reading here or on Ao3

The last few months have been difficult for TF 141. Soap wasn’t with them; he was recovering from a severe injury, so three soldiers had to do the work for four. And there was a lot of work. A variety of scums had activated around the world; TF 141 has been fighting them, thwarting sinister plans, and not even having a couple days of rest at their base. The last mission was the most intense: terrorists threatened to use chemical weapons against civilians, and time was very short. Members of TF 141 did the impossible—managed to neutralize both the bastards and their deadly missiles, but they all were injured, so Captain Price arranged a leave for them. He stayed with Gaz, who’ll have to spend a few days in a hospital, and Ghost took a ticket for the nearest plane to Manchester and went home. The lieutenant’s shot leg hurt, but he didn’t think about it. He didn’t think about missions, either. His tired mind was filled with thoughts about home, about his beloved Johnny, who must have almost recovered, and about Olivia.

Olivia, this adorable little girl, came into Riley and MacTavish’s life a year ago. She was Simon’s own daughter, the only good thing the lieutenant had done during his very short and failed marriage, which he had entered into almost immediately after he took his revenge on Roba and became a member of TF 141. His wife, Emma, left him when she was pregnant, saying she didn’t want the child to grow up with that kind of father, and Simon didn’t try to stop her. He was too traumatized and broken by everything that happened to him; he was tormented by nightmares and drank a lot during that time. Simon regularly sent money for his daughter, and in return, his ex-wife sometimes sent him Olivia’s photos and briefly shared the girl’s milestones. Riley only saw his child once before Emma died in a car accident.

At that time, Ghost was already dating Soap; they spent their leaves together in the lieutenant’s apartment in Manchester and made joint plans, but Johnny still knew nothing about Olivia. It was a difficult conversation that led to an even more difficult decision. The girl had no other relatives; Simon was the only one who had custody of her after her mother’s death, so he and Johnny became Olivia’s new family.

The plane shook, and Ghost raised his head, looking around. The flight attendant announced that there is a turbulence zone ahead, and all passengers should put the backs of their seats in a vertical position, remove the tables, and fasten their seat belts. The lieutenant did everything with a slight tension, which didn’t hide from the gaze of his chatty neighbor.

“Are you afraid of flying?” The old woman asked.

“No,” Ghost answered. “I’m afraid of falling.”

“You're saying that as if you've already fallen.” She laughed cheerfully.

“Yes,” the lieutenant said. “Three or four times.”

The old woman fell silent, suddenly realizing that her gloomy neighbor wasn’t joking. The plane shook again, and it reminded Ghost how he and the others had to jump from a dangerously low height to save themselves from a crashing airlifter. The parachutes managed to open, but the landing was very harsh. Simon escaped with bruises, but Price then severally sprained his leg.

However, today everything went well. The plane left the turbulence zone, and flight attendants began serving drinks. Glancing at his watch, Ghost realized that they had less than an hour to fly, so he quit pretending to be asleep and asked to pour him some tea. The old woman livened up and began to tell something again, but the lieutenant hardly listened to her, automatically nodding from time to time and thinking that very soon he would hug Johnny and kiss his little daughter.

The plane was arriving late, so Simon didn’t expect to be met. He was one of the last to go for his luggage, and he was given his backpack and a large military bag with his gear and weapons in a special case. Slowly, limping on his injured leg, he made his way to the exit, where the passengers and those who met them were still standing. The lieutenant walked with his head down, concentrating on his steps and the weight of the bag in his hand, so he absolutely didn’t expect what happened next.

Suddenly, the noises of the airport were interrupted by a sonorous child’s voice, and Simon, raising his head, saw his daughter.

“Hi, daddy!” She exclaimed loudly and then ran to the lieutenant, holding out her little hands.

The girl was dressed in denim overalls, Simon’s huge camo shirt, and Johnny’s military cap. Ghost dropped his bag, awkwardly dropped to one knee, and held Olivia to his chest, feeling his eyes start to sting. The girl kissed him on his cheek above the mask; then Johnny came up to them and lifted the lieutenant’s bag with a shiny smile.

“Let’s go home, mo ghaol*.” MacTavish said.

“Aye, let’s gang hame, da!” Olivia exclaimed with a strong Scottish accent.

Simon slowly stood up, lifting the girl in his arms, and looked at smiling Johnny.

“Wha’?” He asked. “Wee children quickly pick up everything ‘n’ easily repeat it.”

Ghost sighed silently and said nothing. He was too tired and very happy to see his family that met him here. Holding his daughter with one hand, he hugged Johnny with the other one, and they walked straight to the exit to the parking lot.

Johnny got behind the wheel, and Simon got in the back seat because Olivia wanted him around. She clung to her dad’s hand and told him about the school she had just started going to, about her new friends, and about the neighbor’s dog named Butch. The girl also told how she and ‘da Johnny’ were cooking pancakes and almost burned down the kitchen, but everything ended well.

“Hey!” Soap exclaimed, looking at her through the mirror. “Ye promised nae tae tell daddy Simon aboot it!”

Olivia laughed and showed Johnny her little tongue. Ghost noticed that she spoke with switching up Scottish and Mancunian accents, and he mentally felt sorry for her teachers.

The girl’s enthusiasm was short-lived. It was getting very late, so she fell asleep in Simon’s arms halfway home. He gently stroked his daughter’s blond hair and looked in the mirror, catching Johnny’s gaze in it.

“I missed you.” Ghost said silently.

It used to be very difficult for him to say such things out loud. Every time Simon wanted to tell Johnny how much he loved him, how much he appreciated him, and how much he trusted him, it was as if invisible, icy fingers were squeezing his throat, preventing him from making a sound. The ghosts of his dead relatives surrounded Riley, reminding him of what happens to those he loves. Soap, however, was patient; he asked nothing and demanded nothing, and gradually the icy grip of the terrible past began to loosen and let go of Simon’s crippled soul.

“I missed ye too.” Johnny answered and smiled gently. “How is yer leg?”

“Solid.” Ghost said. “And how are you, my dear?”

“Solid too.” Soap winked cheerfully. “After yer leave, we’ll return to th’ duty th’gither.”

Simon carried Olivia into the apartment in his arms, and together with Johnny, they changed the girl into pajamas and put her to bed. She didn’t wake up; she just mumbled something in her sleep when Ghost and Soap took turns kissing her on the cheeks before leaving her room.

“God, I missed ye sae much!” Johnny hugged Simon tightly, just down the hall, and reached in for a kiss. “Are ye hungry?”

“Uh… yes.” Ghost wasn’t able to answer immediately, not wanting to tear himself away from his lover’s lips. “I also want to take a shower. I still have fucking sand on my teeth.”

“Then go.” Soap smiled. “I’ll heat up the dinner in th’ meantime. I didn’t eat either, was waiting fur ye.”

“Just don’t burn the kitchen, copy?” Simon smiled, kissed Johnny again, and, turning him towards the kitchen, sped him up with a slap on his ass.

Riley stood under the streams of hot water for a long time. Then he put a new bandage on his thigh, put on his home sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and left the bathroom. Once, it was also absolutely impossible for Ghost; he always wore his mask or balaclava. But those days were long gone, and he didn’t want to remember them now, when Johnny was waiting for him. Johnny, who wasn’t afraid of Simon's scarred face and body, who accepted him as he is, who loved him without any conditions or compromises.

Johnny really was already waiting. On the table in the small kitchen were plates of meat and vegetables, a bottle of whiskey, and a couple of candles.

“So, it’s a date?” Ghost asked, smiling.

“Aye!” Soap answered. “Sit doon, mo ghaol, ‘n’ remember that this date must end in bed, if ye know what I mean.”

“Fuck yeah!” Simon nodded, taking the fork.

Johnny was curious about the TF 141 missions and how the captain and Kyle were doing, but he didn’t ask any questions. Now wasn’t the time for that. Now Simon was tired and didn’t want to speak; he wanted to listen, so the sergeant told the lieutenant about Olivia, about his rehabilitation, and how he took the girl to his parents, not forgetting to pour whiskey for both of them.

“It was very tasty, my dear.” Simon said gratefully, when their plates became empty. “Did you cook it yourself?”

“Aye!” Johnny answered proudly. “This is ma maw’s recipe!”

Of course, he didn’t tell how he called his mother every minute, asking so many stupid questions that even Mrs. MacTavish’s angelic patience finally failed. The main thing is that Simon liked everything, right?

“I want ye tae drink coffee while I’ll wash th’ dishes.” Soap said. “Ye need energy because you'll need to work a lot tonight. I want ye, ye know?”

“Aye.” Ghost nodded and then smiled. “I want you too, Johnny.”

They went to their bedroom. Riley closed the door, and MacTavish, meanwhile, quickly pulled off his T-shirt and fell on the bed that had been spread in advance. Simon piled on top of him and started to kiss his lips, his neck, and the scar on his chin greedily.

Soap slid his hands under Ghost’s T-shirt, running his fingers over numerous scars. He let out a breath, closing his eyes for a second before pressing his knee lightly into Johnny's groin, making him groan. They quickly removed the rest of their clothes, throwing them on the floor, and then Soap pressed Simon against the bed and began to kiss his stocky body as he moved down.

“Fucking hell…” Ghost gasped as Johnny reached his cock and began to lick it.

He ran his fingers into the mohawk, squeezing and lowering Soap's head. He gave in, wrapped his lips around Ghost’s huge cock, took it in his mouth, and then pushed deeper into his throat. Closing his eyes, he let out a low moan, expressing complete satisfaction at what he was doing.

“Do you like it, yeah?” Simon asked hoarsely, running his fingers through Johnny’s hair.

“Mmpf!” He smacked his lips as he let Ghost’s cock out of his mouth and looked at his partner with his amazing blue eyes. “Hell yeah, I lik’ it sae much!”

Simon pulled him closer, and Johnny fell on his chest. A second later, he felt his partner's large palm: Ghost's long fingers wrapped around both of their cocks, pressing them together. Soap shivered with satisfaction and started to move, thrusting his hips and feeling the pleasant friction. Simon looked at him, holding him close before sliding his other hand from Johnny’s back to his ass and squeezing it, making his partner moan again.

“Harder!” Soap begged, and Simon clenched his fingers tighter and started to move his hand faster.

“Come on, Johnny,” he said, “cum for me.”

It was the last straw, the last thing Soap needed to make the pleasure wash over him and carry him away on its sweet waves. He was clinging to Ghost's broad shoulders, sobbing and moaning as he buried his face in his partner’s neck, and it was so unbelievably beautiful that it didn't take long for Simon to catch him up. Ghost groaned, throwing his head back, and it was one more thing he had never done before. The icy lieutenant was so used to suppressing his emotions that, for a long time, he couldn’t get rid of them even in bed, even when he was really good. However, Johnny had fixed that too, and now he was enjoying watching Simon cum.

They smoked in bed lazily, then got up and went to the shower. Soap couldn’t stop smiling even when Ghost was kissing him, standing under the streams of hot water. Simon and Johnny put on their pajama pants before going back to bed. The appearance of a child in their home forced them to get rid of some habits, such as going naked to the kitchen at night to drink water. However, none of them regretted or complained, because both managed to love little Olivia very much.

The girl quietly slipped into her dads’ bedroom early in the morning. Careful not to worry them, Olivia climbed onto the bed and snuggled between Johnny and Simon, who hugged her without waking up. Soon, the girl fell asleep again, and the room, illuminated by the rays of the morning sun, fell into a warm and cozy silence, which was disturbed only by the sounds of the calm breathing of three people.

*Mo ghaol (Gaelic) – my love

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 4

Find the series masterlist 

You learn some things, do Laswell a favor, and run into Captain again. This is becoming a bad habit. 

Speech in italics is Russian, this chapter. 

Warnings: Swearing, aftermath of violence, vague threat from terrorist, MW2019 typical Russians, blood, injury (not to reader), spy shit. 

Word count: 2k

Serious slow burn John Price x f!reader

You discovered the plot on accident. Really. 

It was just… one of those things.

Sergio had invited you to stay for a few days and play with his girls, so you did. You brought them gifts from Turkey, California, and Scotland (you’d had a layover and had gotten bored in the airport). 

The girls were darling, and you’d known them both all their lives. You would never, ever marry Sergio (not least because of his obsession with the next future ex-wife) but you loved his kids. Sophia and Natalia. For a while, when you’d initially started building this relationship, you’d helped tutor Sophia. 

Now, you played with the girls and helped to keep them out of trouble and helped with their homework. You were more or less the weird aunt they saw every once in a while, and that worked for you. 

The girls were asleep, but you’d been unable to sleep yourself. So you got up, figuring you’d have a little snack or some water and wander a bit. 

Except wandering may not have been the best idea. 

Low voices from a sitting room had you on alert, and you moved as quietly as you knew how, creeping closer. 

“...perfect bait for them,” someone was saying in Russian. Not Sergio. You didn’t recognize this voice, actually. 

“Why do you want to capture one of them?” That was Sergio, sounding vaguely disgusted. “More of a risk this way, no?” 

“You are short-sighted,” the first speaker said. Well, he was definitely above Sergio, then. “Capturing an operative will give us an edge.”

There was a beat of silence. “Still sounds risky,” Sergio grumbled. “But it is your will, so we will see it done. When will you set the bait?”

“It has been set already,” the leader said, sounding smug. “I let information leak about the gas storage, so the Americans will know of it by now. We will be ready this time.”

Well. That was fucked. 

There were days when the back and forth espionage shit got on your last nerve. 

“To a successful hunt, then,” Sergio offered, the gentle clinking of glasses following his words. 

You might be able to hear more if you stayed… But you also ran the risk of discovery. And that would end poorly for you.

Bullet in the head kind of poorly.

So you snuck away back up to your room, debating the best way to alert Laswell. Text was risky, but a call would be more risky, especially here. You couldn’t wait until morning, just in case people were already en route. And since you didn’t have a location… 

You puffed out a breath, walking into the en suite and shutting the door. There was no easy way to do this, and you didn’t trust Sergio not to have bugs planted in the bathroom. So you hummed to yourself as you typed out a quick text.

Gas a trap for info. Advise abort.

There. That was… not your best work, admittedly, but you were a bit strapped for time. It got your point across. 

And, really, if someone managed to get hold of your text records, you had more things to worry about than the wording of a single text. 

She replied two minutes later. Copy. Send updates.

You puffed out a breath. She was so lucky you liked her. (And that you were indebted to her still for her help.) 

Turning the shower on, you decided maybe a bit of hot water would help you relax enough to get to sleep. 

You were very glad you had the girls as an excuse to be out of the house for the fallout of the failed mission. Sergio didn’t tell you anything, but the blooming black eye spoke for him. 

You stayed another week, mostly because the girls pleaded with you to stay. But a little bit because you were curious and wanted to see if you could hear anything else. When that ended up being futile, you booked a flight to Morocco. 

Because why not.

The plan was to touch base with someone you knew who had fingers in shipping pies. (Seriously, the woman was an absolute master. She could get anything anywhere in the world, for the right price.) And, of course, to eat some delicious food, and check on the hideaway you kept there. You had several across the globe, but it had been a while since you’d been to this one. You probably needed to change out some of the non-perishables. 

It was supposed to be a low-key, quiet trip. Relaxing. The only adventure you wanted was wandering through the city. 

It was not a low-key, quiet trip. 

Three days in, you’d restocked your hideaway, contacted your shipping master friend, and found a new place with some of the best food you’d ever had. It was shaping up to be a good trip.

And then a man dropped down in front of you, woozy, dark skin glistening with sweat. The tactical vest was a dead giveaway, but the flag was a surprise. 

You very purposely did not look for a name. But you did do a quick sweep of the rest of him. 

Blood seeped out from under the vest, staining his shirt, and you swore softly.

“You need help.” 

“I’m fine.” But the words were a little sluggish, one hand pressing over the wound at his hip. 

“You need help,” you reiterated, glancing around, suddenly wary. You did not want to be caught in the crossfire of this, and the longer you stayed out in the open, the more likely that became. “Please. I’ve got bandages back at my place.” 

His gaze held yours, suddenly hard, calculating. “I’ve got people on the way,” he said, clearly testing.

“Good, then they can pick you up.” You ducked under one of his arms, your own looping across his back. “Come on, in we go. Before whoever shot you finds us both.”

He gave in, letting you walk him down half a block and inside. He didn’t even complain going up the stairs to your hideaway, though you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“This one’s mine,” you told him, pulling your keys out of your pocket when you reached the appropriate floor. It took a moment to get the door unlocked and maneuver him inside without letting go - he was slowly leaning more on you for support. You kicked the door shut after the two of you and more or less carefully deposited him in a chair. He groaned softly, like he didn’t even mean to, and you winced in sympathy. 

Fortunately, all your hideaways had first aid kits stocked, and you thumped it onto the table in front of him.

“I’ll help if you want,” you offered, taking a step back and putting your hands up, away from your body. “But you are very well armed and I am not.” 

“S’alright,” he muttered, accent effortlessly charming even as he popped open the first aid kit. “I’ve got it.” His gaze lifted to yours, a little less wary and a little more curious. “What’s your name?”

You tutted at him, amused despite yourself. “Does it matter? You need to get patched up and wait until your buddies come get you.” You put two sealed water bottles onto the table for him, already kind of mourning your decision. Dammit, you shouldn’t have brought him here. 

“Thank you.” He tugged his shirt up and out of the way to press gauze to the still-bleeding gash. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. You stepped past him into your bedroom, taking a quick look around. Only a few things of sentimental value resided here, and you were quick to throw those and a change of clothes into a duffel bag. 

You had to burn this hideaway now. Not literally, but you’d never be able to come back here again. 

At least nothing here would give them more information on you. 

You set the duffel bag on the floor by the door, ignoring his gaze. You let yourself look around one last time. You really liked this place. Damn. 

“Where are you going?” His voice was calm, just a hint of urgency there. 

“Nowhere yet, I suspect,” you said on a sigh, turning to look. He didn’t actually have a weapon in hand, which rather surprised you. “Just getting ready to go once your friends arrive.” 

His eyes narrowed, suspicion growing. Your smile was crooked and understanding. 

“Just because I helped you doesn’t mean I want that kind of attention,” you said, hands carefully palms-out at your sides again. “Nothing personal.” 

He didn’t seem quite sure what to make of you, shoulders tense, fingers twitching. Then he blinked once and lifted his free hand to the radio on his vest. “Injured, currently patching up. Indoors, one unknown.”

Ah. You were likely the unknown. Well. Fair, honestly. You were acting pretty suspicious for anyone who didn’t know you. 

“Solid copy.” His hand left his radio, but his gaze stayed fixed on you. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“And I suppose I’m to wait here until they arrive?” You puffed out a breath. “Alright, sure.” You had contingencies, if you needed them. If you really needed to, you could call Laswell. But you hoped you didn’t have to. 

The wait was silent and felt like it dragged on forever, although in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Two heavy knocks pulled you from your spot, and you opened the door.

And then blinked.

“Captain?” 

His expression immediately settled into a scowl. “Ace.”

“Huh.” You stepped back to let him in. “I take it this one’s yours, then?” You nodded back at the wounded man behind you. 

“Yes.” He stepped past you, momentarily dismissing you to kneel by the injured man. You could hear them speaking quietly, going over the situation. But Captain’s voice had softened a little, care clear in the way he checked his man. He did have a heart after all. 

That would be your cue to leave. 

You picked up your duffel bag and managed to take one step before a quiet, “Sir,” cut you off.

“Where are you going?” 

Captain was glaring at you now, tense, wary. Probably thinking the worst of you. Again. 

“I have to abandon this place now anyway,” you pointed out reasonably. “You might as well enjoy it, get properly patched up before you go.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Is it not enough to know that I’m leaving?” 

“No.” He stood, prowling over to you, using his height to loom over you. 

You debated with yourself, head tilting to one side, looking up at him. You could probably make it if you distracted him with something and ran. Then again, you might not, and you were not in the mood today to be thrown around. 

“I am planning on getting the hell out before whatever chaos you’re involved in explodes.” You kept your tone dry, chin tipping in challenge. 

His lips thinned. “No.”

“You’re not my boss,” you said quietly, stepping into him, refusing to back down. “And you can’t keep me here, not without all kinds of trouble. I’ll be on my way to another country, and you can bug out as soon as you want.” 

He was going to keep arguing with you, you could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were ready to grab you. But something distracted the both of them, Captain turning to the injured man.

You didn’t wait. You booked it, hauling ass out of the apartment and down the stairs. You heard the yell behind you, but you didn’t acknowledge it, focused on getting out. 

And once you were outside, it was easy to find crowds and blend in, easy to get to the airport and buy a ticket to Cairo. From there, you weren’t sure, but you did know one thing. 

Captain was showing up too often in your life. He was becoming a distraction. And that? That could be a problem.

[alessiathepirate]

Far Cry 6

EL CAZADOR Y LA PRESA: Vaas Montenegro x fem!reader

Summary: La Raja Bar - the place where two old acquaintances finally meet again...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

My Spanish isn't the best so if you find a word / phrase used in the wrong context or anything please let me know so I can improve :)

I can't believe I finally finished this piece, I've been working on it for such a long time. I think the Michael Mando brainrot helped a lot.

I hope you'll enjoy this <3

Warnings: swearing, my Spanish, referenced and mentioned violence, heavily suggestive themes, also mentioned and referenced plot of Far Cry 3 and 5

•••

Juan knew many people and he for sure knew his way around them.

He knew when and how to strike a great business deal, and how to get out on top with more intel and money than the other had initially offered.

But more often than not, when he got tired in the workshop, he just went out to have a drink or two - or more, it was almost always more - with an old friend. And he had many old friends. Some even more dangerous than the potentional business partners; many were ex-guerrillas, ex-CIA, ex-KGB, ex-terrorists... The list was endless.

She liked to join him sometimes; sitting down to try and make the stupid businessman talk or sitting down with a beer to listen to Juan and his old pal fool around.

That's what she planned on doing once again, after finishing a run for the man to steal some uranium from the last few remaining anti-aircraft sites. After taking the iron chest back to Zamok Archipiélago, she went straight up north, to La Raja Bar - where she knew she'll find the one and only Juan Cortez.

Arriving there though... a surprise was waiting for her there. A big fucking surprise. Juan wasn't the one sitting at the bar, waiting for her, already drunk. In fact, Juan wasn't anywhere in sight. Instead, she found an old friend there, hunched over with his elbows on the table.

She could still recognize him even after all those fucking years, even if the time had taken its toll on both of them.

And just by knowing who he was, she was sure he was the one Juan had met up with before leaving without telling her not to come.

And thank God he didn't tell her that.

"Holy shit!" she cursed as her lips turned upwards into a smile. "What's the fucking chance?"

The man turned around slowly - much slower than he did in the past -, but the very dangerous kind of calmness was still seen in the way his muscles moved. The look on his face upon realizing who was speaking to him, wasn't really surprised - she had never seen him being surprised at anything -, although it was close to it. She was pretty sure he had been going on with life like she had done, thinking they'd never see each other again. To be completely honest, for a time she believed he died - until she realized nothing could kill him, only himself.

"Long time no see, Jefe."

Vaas grinned and she took a seat right next to him, asking the bartender for two more beers. The old lady just cursed under her breath, but in the end, gave her what she asked for.

She gave one beer to Vaas and then took a sip from the other one.

"Fucking Hell, chica!" he took the bottle from her and gave her one of his signature little chuckles. "I thought the jungle ate you up alive."

"The jungle?" she questioned. "Like it had a fucking chance."

"It had one in the beginning."

They smiled at the other in a very twisted and scary way. The bartender chose to stay far away from them, and decided to mess with the old radio in the corner.

She liked knowing that nothing changed.

It all felt the same; the drinking, the talking, even the fucking looks... Although they had more scars - more than the ones they had given each other back then -, more grey hairs and a more serious drinking problem, it was as if they were back in some part of the Rook Islands, in a shitty bar.

She leand in more, her lips turning into an even wider smile, until it was a grin, and said: "It doesn't have one anymore, Jefe."

She carefully watched as his expression went through different phases. She could see the almost-smile as his lips twitched when she said that last word.

Jefe.

It was easy for her to tame him just by saying that. For some reason he liked to hear that word from her. Only her. She remembered all the times she had been tackled to the ground, rough fingers digging into her skin. It has always been easy to get what she wanted.

"I can fucking see that, chica."

His gaze was upon her knuckles, which were bruised. Small cuts littered her hands.

"Good for you." she said as she took another sip. "Nowadays not many people get to keep their eyes to look at me with."

Vaas chuckled.

"You still got your claws, tigre." his smile turned into a smirk. "No one broke them before, huh?"

"No one other than you." she teased. "Believe me, no one could do it better than you."

"Careful now, chica." his voice was just like hers, it had something to it - some teasing and some danger, just the things she liked. "You still think you can just run that mouth of yours without any consequences, ey?"

"I know I can't." her tone became low. "That's why it's fun."

Silence followed. The unsettling kind.

And then after a smirk, Vaas laughed.

And she felt as if she was on the Rook Islands again, being intentionally teased and angered, Vaas just chuckling at her reactions. But he had loved it more when she escaped. He loved her fight, he loved her nails more - enjoying when they broke his skin, leaving red lines behind. And in return, she got some thin cuts as well, mostly around her collarbone, making it impossible to hide them.

As they sat there, drinking and laughing, she wanted nothing more than to jump on him and leave marks behind again. And she was sure he wanted to do the same.

"So, what are you up to in Yara, chica?" he asked, his voice turning serious as much as it could. "Causing trouble again?"

"Sí, Jefe. Juan seemed to enjoy it so I decided to join in on the fun. Besides," she pulled down the neckline of her shirt so he could see the scar on her chest. "I got tired of Montana pretty quickly."

"Nice tattoo. You got more?"

"Only this one." she let go of her shirt. "You gave me better ones anyway."

"That I did chica."

She felt a chill run through her as he looked at her.

The want, or rather need was undeniable. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. He needed her as much as she needed him.

They've been far away from sanity for a long time, and their shared insanity met them each and every time they chased the other again and again and again... She was never really sane, especially with Vaas around. He made her the person she has become. He made her want him more than she wanted anyone else.

She still remembered the time Vaas gave her the tattoo she knew he was referring too. They went out to hunt - in reality he just wanted to see her face when she hit a living, moving animal; he wanted her to know she was the one who killed it. And she shot - perfectly. She only had to give the doe one more bullet to put it down and as soon as the animal was dead, her chest started to raise and fall quickly. Yet she didn't have time to think, because one of his arms was around her waist, pulling her close. His face was burried in the crook of her neck as he laughed.

"Ahora ya no eres presa, chica." he had said. "Eres la cazadora." and his teeth broke the skin on her neck.

She had asked what it meant, not quite understanding Spanish back then.

Vaas chuckled, but translated it.

"You just became the hunter, chica. You are not prey anymore." his nose touched her ear and her breathing hitched. "Mi pequeña cazadora."

Mi. She knew that meant 'my'. And from the way he acted she knew he liked that idea. He liked it a lot.

And then his fingers grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulled it up and his knife cut into her skin. Droplets of blood ran down her hip, making her jeans red. She whimpered and grabbed onto his arm, trying to get it away, but he wouldn't move.

The letter V he had carved into her that day could still be seen just above her hip. She thought about touching it - like she always did when she was thinking about him -, but held herself back.

He didn't need to know how much she enjoyed the thought of that scar.

She finished her beer. He did too. She thought about asking for another, but since the bartender wasn't anywhere in sight, she decided against it.

She didn't know what to say.

She wanted him and she was sure he felt the same, but after all those years they both became tame. It was actually surprising to not hear him shout orders.

In the end she reached into her pocket to pay for the drinks, but just as she was about to throw the money on the counter, Vaas grabbed her wrist. Out of reflex her other hand was immediatelly on the knife which was attached to the back of her belt. Vaas just grinned.

'Good reflexes, chica.' she could hear his voice in her head.

She raised one of her eyebrows.

"No need for that, cazadora." uncomfortable tingles ran through her at the nickname and at the touch. "The puta won't ask for money. I made sure of that."

She looked at him with excitement.

Her hand let go of her knife and she concentrated on the feeling of him holding onto her wrist, almost crushing the bones.

Cazadora. He remembered, didn't he? Of course he did. He remembers fucking everything. Especially the things he had done in the past.

She knew he made her. In the jungle, in the heat. Every single time she fought him and he cut her, he made sure she'll become something else. Something... loco.

And every time she let him tackle her, cut her, kiss her and bite her, she let him form her into the insane bitch she has become.

Mi pequeña cazadora. She remembered that day in the jungle when they were hunting the doe. She remembered the dull pain when he drew the V into her skin. She remembered his breath on her skin and his grin when she leaned into him, accepting her own insanity next to his.

She felt the need grow in the pit of her stomach as Vaas held onto her.

Perhaps they weren't too old to hunt again.

"You make me fucking crazy Jefe." she said as she dropped the money, letting it fall, the coins rolling far away.

And soon they were on each other. Hands roaming free, teeth biting lips. His thumb found the letter V above her hip and she whined.

She let herself be tackled, she let him break the skin with his teeth.

No matter how different she has become, next to Vaas she didn't want to be a hunter.

Not when it was too enjoyable to be the prey.

[electricalhuzzah]

Last one I SWEAR but: do you think handyman Bill gets all the menial/unpleasant jobs that Soos got in the show

Listen I was rewatching that time Stan said “Soos! I need to scratch myself in two places at once” and then I thought about the time he offered Soos as bait for the pterodactyl (affectionately) and realized “wait he did that because Soos is his only employee. Now he has another one”

HI IM SORRY LATE RESPONSE BUT HERE WE GO ‼️ also i LOVE your asks so literally. send them always.

i love seeing this in other handyman bill AUs!! unfortunately in the heinz dilemma ive given bill an aggressively positive relationship with soos (who now fully owns the mystery shack to alleviate the business stress from sea-retirement stan, but pays him the utmost respect and tries to do stan justice with everything he does for the shack). and while soos appreciates the rugged charm of violating the fair labor standards act, he does have a contract to follow.

the axolotl shows bill this sort of bleeding-heart tough-love that i wanted soos to foil. he’s a little dad-in-training— he teaches bill job skills like cleaning, fixing machinery, balancing registers, good customer service. in the process he’s lenient with the rules and trusts bill not to abuse that, for better or worse. soos doesn’t make bill do degrading tasks because he doesn’t see the value of it, nor does he see the point in petty payback.

people can only sympathize with bill proportionally to how much they see themselves in bill. this is a little easier now that he’s people-shaped, but it’s still ehhh.

soos, whether he really sees himself in bill, or he’s grasping at straws to find someone like him, sympathizes. he was once a kid whose hopes were raised and crushed time and time again only to come to the brutal realization that father was a figment of his anticipation; then soos showed up at the door of the mystery shack, and a strange but endearing man took him in and filled in the gaps his father left.

now, maybe bill didn’t show up unannounced. maybe bill’s arrival was more planned. but soos, nonetheless, saw a man at his lowest at the door of the mystery shack. he saw a damaged man, one in need of help and guidance and someone to rely on.

soos saw himself in that one-eyed, snake-haired, jaundiced, jumpsuit-and-grippy-sock-getup lookin ex-terrorist.

and whether he knew this by looking into himself or looking into bill, he knew that there was no labor or cruelty to which he could subject this pathetic man that he’d not already subjected himself to.

ok this was SO LONG AND DRAMATIC all to say that soos is too fucking nice 😭😭 im a yapper yall

[proshippers-against-censorship]

I have these 2 OCs that are brocon (while it is portrayed as bad in the story, I still draw cute non-canon art of them sometimes cuz I love them lol), and my anti friends unsurprisingly have an issue with this, but I always tore down their arguments and explain why it isn't an issue. So, with these 2, one friend in particular (who we'll call K) decided that since she can't use the classic "fiction is reality!! you support incest!!" argument, she decided to instead complain that the characters were Jewish and I was thus disrespecting the religion

I am...Jewish? Why would I disrespect my own religion in my OC's 😭 Also, I contradict religion a lot in my stories lol. One of the characters is a Christian cannibal (which, while I don't know a whole lot about Christianity, I'm sure that's a sin for them lmfao), along with all of my other OC's who are religious yet are also murderers, terrorists, etc, and she seemed to not have an issue with that.

So, I explain K's hypocrisy to her (and how I'm sure literally no other Jewish person would be offended, nor care), she insisted I was just being antisemitic. Keep in mind 3 things with this:

1.) She is not Jewish, she worships Islam, so idk why she's policing me on what I do with my own beliefs and acting like she is an expert on it (I had to explain to her what a Synagogue was, so clearly she doesn't know much)

2.) She was super antisemitic??? K literally banned me from speaking about Judaism in any form in her old server because "it made people uncomfortable" (nobody except her cared)... but then let a legitimate Neo-Nazi stay in the server and just told me to "ignore him" as he would legit send propaganda in the chat

3.) She would contradict religion in her stories, too??? She never once drew her canonically-Islam characters with properly-modest clothes or hijabs (even going as far as drawing some of her characters in literal bikinis lmfao???), and when I would ask about this, she would say "It is fiction, so I have creative freedom, and I change the rules"... which like, yeah this is true, but why is it okay for you to do it and not me

So, as usual, antis stretching so far to find any reason to call you a freak, and once again being hypocritical. Good thing she is an ex-friend now.

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

TL;DR of the whole situation:

"It is fiction, so I have creative freedom with worldbuilding, so therefore my characters don't need to necessarily abide by the rules of the religion I canonically made them worship. WTF???? YOU CAN'T DRAW THE JEW BROTHERS KISSING NOOOO THAT'S BAD BECAUSE YOU'RE DISRESPECTING OTHER JEWS!!! Oh btw there is a self-proclaimed Nazi in my server, no I will not ban him for harassing you, but I will ban you for mentioning Hanukkah, I'm not antisemitic though!!" -K, my anti ex-friend, for some reason

She sounds like a hypocritical bitch, it's a good thing you distanced yourself from her 😬😬😬

[sinon36]

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part II

Warnings: blood, violence, kidnapping, mistakes hehe, a bit of fluff

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the second time you meet you don’t even recognize him

- you are sent to meet up with a freshly assembled team, a few hand-picked men and women with various skills, the most capable, for a new sensitive covert mission

- with your experience and prone eye to details, you’re quickly made team leader alongside an S.A.S. Lieutenant

- he wears a skull mask sewn on a black balaclava, 6’4 wall of hard muscle, and the most intimidating gaze you’ve ever seen in someone’s eyes

- you don’t back down when you are introduced to one another, handshake firm, brown eyes meeting your own for a long time, as if caught in a duel of gazes

- you learn his name, in fact his callsign ‘Ghost’

- you deem it fit for his choice of gear and his mannerisms

- he rarely speaks and when he does it is short and to the point, making astute observations or asking good questions, the rest of his time is spent in silence, sharp eyes scanning the room full of people or the files handed to him

- for how big he is he sure likes to disappear unnoticed acting just like his namesake

- nothing is known about him, in truth no one on the team knows much about the others, no more than the essentials: their callsign and specialization, the rest is redacted

- you are not a curious person and you leave him be, but you can deny that he’s intriguing

- you find out you work well together; you plan and scheme for the operation, making up fictional scenarios and coming up with backup plans for every backup plan there is

- you don’t socialize much outside your work, but the silence between you two doesn’t feel awkward, more like understanding, a silent pact to not disturb the other from mental preparations and other thoughts regarding the near future danger that awaits you

- the plan is quite simple: you’ll pose as an ex-military expert in explosive devices, who just got dishonourably dismissed for having slept with a superior office at the base, and with no pension and a wish for revenge on the government that failed you; you get recruited by a terrorist cell via dark web that wants a large amount of explosive for a big hit on London;

- the buyer wants a meetup in a couple of days and a live demonstration that your devices work and do the desired amount of damage

- you’re the main piece on the chess board, the rest are there to support you and extract you in case the meetup goes awry

- and you prepare accordingly, mastering the art of explosives in just a few days, you are a fast learner, you work very clean and organized which make you look the part

- one day before the expected meetup, everything is ready, all the plans have been poured over, every detail accounted for

- it’s the calm before the storm as they say, you’re more quiet than usual, mentally going over every possibility and carefully repeating answers to possible questions

- Ghost notices this and in a small gesture of kindness or maybe just good fellowship he brings you a mug of tea, your favourite Earl Gray with a splash of soy milk; you’re surprised to find out that it’s perfect, from temperature to ratio to taste; he’s been watching you and taking notes of your methodical way of making tea; you can’t help but appreciate that and the attention to details; a man after your own heart

- you thank him and he smirks under his balaclava at your reaction of pleasant surprise that you quickly school with a small nod focusing your gaze to a fixed point on the coffee table in front of you

- the last few hours before the mission starts is spent in the lounge room; you read your notes for the final time and he listens to music on his headphones, so loud you can hear the rhythm

- he sees you absentmindedly bouncing your leg to the music, not once asking him to turn it off; he smirks again noting that you probably have similar tastes in music as well, he’ll have to test that theory

- when you carpool together to head towards the location sent to you by the target, he senses your tension and tells you a joke, a dark one that makes you smile a bit; he seems to be smirking a lot at your interactions lately

- he pulls the SUV a few blocks further away and before you make your way out of the passenger seat he grabs your upper arm making you freeze entirely, he’d never touch intentionally until now

- you make eye contact and reminds you to pull out if something feels wrong and you nod in agreement

- he reminds that he won’t be able to listen to you because you can’t take a wire with you (you’ll surely be patted down), but he’ll be close, and he’ll have eyes on you on all times through the scope of his sniper rifle; the bravo team will be close by to provide back-up; this time you’re not alone

- that thought is a lot more reassuring than you thought, you trust him completely, having seen his marksmanship skills at the firing range

- with that your mission begins

- you walk towards the alley you’re suppose to meet your target and you’re not surprised to see a black van pulling over, two brutes climbing out of it grabbing you and putting a cowl on your feet while dragging you inside the car

- your plan included this situation and you know that Ghost will follow the car at a safe distance until you reach the final destination

- you feel hands on you, patting down hard and pulling your shirt up looking for any hidden device; it makes your skin crawl but you manage

- you count around 45 minutes of driving and when the asphalt ends and gravel begins you know you are close to the actual destination  

- when the car stops you are shoved out of the car and they drag you somewhere inside

- when the cowl is ripped off you find yourself in a hangar with windows on both sides and a thick concrete wall in the middle that’s only connected to the floor

- you are surrounded by men in dark clothes, faces covered by shemagh scarves and in the middle a man dressed in a suit beckons you forth greetings kept to a minimum

- you are brought to a table where explosives and an array of electrical components lie in a heap

- his voice is deep, not as deep as that of Ghost and is laced with an eastern Asian accent 

- the instructions are simple, make an IED with what’s on the table in under 20 minutes, it has to work and it has to take down that wall 

- a timer is set before you and you get to work

- 16 minute and 54 seconds later you’re done and you mount the device in the middle of the wall

- every one gets as far as possible, turning away from the blast

- when the dust settles the buyer claps impressed that little remains of that wall

- you begin negotiations; you push for £1.000.000.000 he refuses, you argue that you need to buy supplies and they’re not cheap; he proposes a lower fee and that he’ll provide what is needed; you agree on the condition that he brings you to his supplier arguing that you want to do a quality check first, eliminating all and any error in the manufacturing process; he takes a moment to think about it; you argument that he can be double crossed and buy useless crap at huge prices and that you can lower those prices based on what the seller has to offer; he agrees and tells you that soon you will be contacted the same way you were today; you hum and ask for part of the payment now ‘for the trouble’ you say as you nod towards his brutes; he accepts.

- you’re taken back to the alley you were picked up from, the ride played in reverse, once again the cowl is thrown over your head

- Ghost picks you up from the park nearby, your established pick-up point

- once inside the passenger seat he notices the small exhale of relief you try to mask as yawn

- he drives in complete silence eyes front; he breaks it asking for the deal; you summarize; not only did you manage to meet the buyer and impress him but you managed to convince him to bring you to his supplier; he whistles in appreciation

- you feel your cheeks warm up; shock: you never blush, never, not at compliments not ever; you hate it but also like it a little.

- you ask him in return, and he clarifies that he had you in his sights all the time, ready to drop anyone that dared as little as breathing wrong in your direction, just as promised; you hum in a show of respect and appreciation, he nods in return; you are amazed how easily you can communicate non-verbally with one another - you make a great team         

Next part here.

Previous part here.

[calicomccoy]

Romancing Anders in DA2 at the moment and boy, he is basically a walking red flag...

There’s someone for everyone, but wowie. Killed Anders when I didn’t romance him, might do it again while romancing him.

Red Flags

Let himself be joined with Justice in the first place. Now if another character who was always an apostate, like Morrigan, did this I would not be bothered. Go do that funky magic. But someone who was trained in the Circle, knew about the Harrowing? Seems sussy to me... 👀

Says that he is “obsessed” with Hawke before he tells them he loves them.

Writes a manifesto (always a HUGE red flag)

Looks like he doesn’t wash his hands and he's a healer.

Says the most disgusting awful things to Fenris, ex. “If you didn’t like slavery, maybe you should’ve just offed yourself” WHO SAYS THAT TO ANYONE???

Always talking about politics, even when Hawke is trying to flirt with him.

The self deprecating remarks about how Hawke could still love him all the time. Why shouldn't Hawke love him, why is he self sabotaging? Just be cute and flirty for once GOD. Didn’t know I was reaching for the stars.

Did blood magic in Awakening but sh!ts on Merrill in DA2 while walking around as a textbook example of an abomination. Cognitive dissonance!

Dyes his clothes black in your bathtub? Whoa dude, he probably didn’t even clean it up.

Involves Hawke in terrorist plots without knowledge or consent.

KISSING? There was one. It’s obvious Hawke and Anders don’t have the same love language, HAWKE GET OUT!

Anders has no friends of his own, only Hawke’s friends

Does he wash his hair?? I have doubts...

Not even done with the game. Good for you Anders girlies, but I don’t get it. Looking forward to romancing Fenris again. I understand that Anders is a character who is supposed to be corrupted by Justice as he is turned to Vengeance, but he is so completely unlikable from the start that I can’t tell the difference. You shouldn’t have to play the DLC to understand Anders’ character arc.

[fancoloredglasses]

RWBY (a rather Grimm tale)

(Thanks to Story Teller's Corner)

[All images are owned by Rooster Teeth VIZ Media. Please don’t sue me or sic a Grimm on me]

RWBY (pronounced “Ruby”) is an “American Anime” (as in Anime style made in the US. Yes, it IS a genre. Yes, it IS anime; even the Japanese say so!) created by Monty Oum (who, at the time, was lead animator for Red vs. Blue) for Rooster Teeth Productions (sadly, Oum died due to a severe allergic reaction during the third season of the series. It was then taken over by head writer Kerry Shawcross, who worked from Oum’s outline for the series, trying to keep to Oum’s vision as closely as possible)

Nearly all characters are loosely based of myths, legends, tales, and folklore in our world (I will explain who everyone is based on as they are introduced)

The series takes place in the world of Remnant, which humans share their word with…

Faunus, human-like beings with animal traits. Often treated as second-class citizens, a number of them founded a group known as the White Fang, that worked to improve Human/Faunus relations. Unfortunately, the group slowly morphed into a terrorist organization thanks in no small part due to the actions of…

Adam Taurus, who seized control of the group. (I will explain who Adam is based on later, as he is tied with another character)

Also in this world are the Creatures of Grimm (or simply, the Grimm), soulless creatures who are drawn to negative emotions and will eat any living creatures that stand in their way.

Humans and Faunus are in constant danger from the Grimm, so members of both races were forced to step up to become the defenders of the world. These individuals are known as Hunters and Huntresses. Each of the 4 Kingdoms of Remnant have set up schools to train those who would be these defenders to fight and use their abilities, with an elite Academy set up in each capitol to serve as the official training ground for them.

In Remnant, all Humans and Faunus have an Aura that provides limited protection from damage (meaning students can go all out in their combat training until someone’s Aura in exhausted). Hunters and Huntresses are trained to hone their Aura into accessing special abilities called Semblances. Each Hunter and Huntress’s Semblance is different, reflecting the individual’s personality.

Additionally, the weapons used in the series are powered/loaded by a substance known as Dust that can cause elemental effects (such as fire or lightning) Any “firearm” in the series fires cartridges filled with powdered Dust (Dust’s pure form is crystalline)

RWBY centers on four Huntresses-in-Training at Beacon Academy in the Kingdom of Vale known as Team RWBY (At Beacon, the teams are named after the initials of the members’ names)

(Thanks to RWBY)

Leading the group is Ruby Rose (based on Little Red Riding Hood), a prodigy who managed to single-handedly thwart a robbery by a gang of armed mobsters. This got the attention of the Headmaster of Beacon, who immediately admitted her two years earlier than would be the norm.

Her semblance is incredible speed and her weapon-of-choice is a combination scythe/sniper rifle known as the Crescent Rose.

(Thanks again to RWBY)

Weiss Shnee (based on Snow White) is the heir to the Shnee Dust Company (the largest producer of Dust in Remnant) While Ruby considers Weiss her best friend, Weiss considers Ruby an annoyance (though their relationship improves as the series progresses)

Her weapon of choice is a rapier that can be charged with Dust cartridges, while her Seblance is the ability to make circles of power (Glyphs) that can be used as platforms, launching points, or speed boosts. Additionally, all Shnee have the ability to call forth phantoms of Grimm they have defeated.

(RWBY once again)

Blake Belladona (based on Beauty (some say the Beast as well) is a Faunus (her animal part is feline) and former member of the White Fang and Adam Taurus’s ex-lover (What Adam’s based on depends on how you view Blake: is she’s not also the Beast, then Adam is (I lean this way since the Beasts’s name in the tale is Adam); if she is, then Adam’s Gaston. Adam did NOT take the break-up well, and is obsessed with getting Blake back) She’s a bit of a wallflower, preferring to hide in the shadows than deal with people.

Blake has a number of stealth skills based on her time with the White Fang. Her Semblance is the ability to create phantom clones of herself as distractions, while her weapons of choice are a pair or weapons that are combination small automatic pistol, short sword, and whip (she’s nothing if not versatile)

(yep, RWBY again)

Ruby’s sister, Yang Xaio Long (based on Goldilocks) is a hot-headed happy-go-lucky brawler. Technically, Ruby and Yang are half-sisters (they have a common father: Tailong Xiao Long (voiced by Rooster Teeth founder Burnie Burns))

Her Semblance is a buildup of strength the longer a fight goes, while her weapons of choice are gauntlets that pack an extra blow due to dust cannons (that can also be used as firearms or booster rockets to for a speed and/or jump boost) within.

I would be remiss in discussing Team RWBY without discussing “Bumbleby”. Early on, it was hinted that there’s chemistry between Yang and Blake, which only increased as the series progressed (Black + Yellow = Bumbleby)

But Team RWBY aren’t the only students the series follows:

Meet Team JNPR (pronounced “Juniper”) From left to right…

First up is the leader Jeane Arc (based on Joan of Arc), who bluffed his way into Beacon and had, in fact, never did any initial training to become a hunter. As such, he doesn’t have a Semblance when the series begins and is mostly used as comic relief. Fortunately, he does learn tactics fairly quickly. His weapon is a sword that can expand into a shield.

Nora Valkyrie (based on Thor) is a headstrong warrior who tends to charge in without a plan (similar to Yang, but with less anger issues) She uses a Warhammer that can use Dust to rocket-charge her blows. Her Semblance allows her to gain strength when she’s hit with electricity.

Pyrrha Nikos (based on Achilles) was a youth combat champion (with her face on cereal boxes and everything!) before attending Beacon. She has a crush on Jeane and spends a lot of time behind the scenes training him to become the leader he fakes being. Her weapon of choice is spear and shield and her semblance is a form of magnetism (which allows her to make her opponents miss her)

Finally, Lie Ren (originally voiced by Oum before his death; based on Mulan) is a quiet individual who shares a history with Nora (they are the sole survivors of a village that was razed by Grimm) He carries his father’s daggers, as well as bladed pistols that can be thrown like boomerangs. His Semblance allows him (and any in his proximity) to be ignored by the Grimm as long as he remains calm

Teams RWBY and JNPR have other allies as well…

Penny Polendina (based on Pinocchio) is a robot from the kingdom of Atlas who has somehow gained an Aura. She befriends Ruby and has been an ally in a number of fights. Her mechanical nature means she is stronger and faster than a normal person and more resistant to injuries. Her weapons of choice are a set of at least 8 short swords that she can control remotely. Her Semblance boosts her already impressive strength.

Beacon is headed by Professor Ozpin (based on the Wizard of Oz), who is the wise mentor to the students of Beacon, as well as running a global surveillance network looking out for threats to the world’s stability. His semblance is unknown in the first few seasons, and his favored weapon appears to be his walking stick.

Qrow Branwen (based on the Scarecrow) is Yang and Ruby’s uncle (Yang’s mother’s brother) who is a bit of a drunk and lot of a scoundrel who is one of Ozpin’s main agents in the Kingdom of Vale. His semblance is unknown in the first few seasons (though it’s hinted and later revealed that he can transform into a crow; Yang’s mother Raven has a similar ability) and his favored weapon is the a gun-sword that can transform into a scythe (who to you think trained Ruby to wield her Crescent Rose?)

Finally (isn’t this cast of protagonists large enough?) Weiss’s older sister Winter (based on the Snow Queen (AKA Elsa from Frozen)) is another of Ozpin’s agents and is an officer in the Kingdom of Atlas’s military. She has a fierce rivalry with Qrow, seeing his as a layabout while she exudes military discipline.

(Thanks to Nightcore Dimensions)

Like Weiss, her semblance is Glyphs and calling files she’s defeated, though she wields a longsword instead of a rapier.

While it would be nice to say the series is all about hijinks and battling monsters, there are some very real threats to the world besides the Grimm in a coalition that includes Adam Taurus and the White Fang, plus…

Roman Torchwick (based on Romeo Candlewick/Lampwick from Pinoccio, though he resembles Alex from A Clockwork Orange) and his mute sidekick Neapolitan (or simply “Neo”; based on the goddess Hecate but resembles Neapolitan ice cream) are a pair of scoundrels hired to steal as much Dust and cause as much havoc as possible. They got sideways with Ruby when they tried to rob the Dust store she was shopping in (the same incident that got her early entry into Beacon)

Torchwick wields a cane that doubles as a sniper rifle and his Semblance is never revealed, while Neo wields a combat umbrella and her Semblance creates illusions that can be seen by everyone present.

The coalition’s field commander is Cinder Fall (based on Cinderella) She is young enough to pass as a visiting student from another training school. She spends her time reigning in Torchwick and the While Fang while also fomenting discord among the population.

Her Semblance allows her to superheat objects, allowing her to either reshape them or cause them to explode, and her weapon of choice is a pair of glass swords that could be connected to form a bow.

Cinder’s minions are Emerald Sustrai (based on Aladdin) and Mercury Black (based on the god Mercury) Emerald was a street urchin who Cinder found and recruited, and as a result Emerald is totally devoted to Cinder, while Mercury was an assassin on the run when Cinder recruited him, so his loyalties aren’t quite as fanatical. Mercury also lost his legs some time in his past, so he sports mechanical legs with guns within (his weapons of choice).

Emerald’s weapons of choice are a pair of blades chained to pistons and her Semblance allows her to project illusions to a single victim. Mercury is adept at martial arts to supplement his leg-guns and has no Semblance (his father somehow stole it)

The first couple of seasons (or “Volumes”, which consisted of episodes that usually lasted at most 15 minutes (though the finale could be half an hour or longer)) were mainly setting up the world and cast, and was mostly the students being students feeling out their abilities and relationships in the silliest ways possible.

(Thanks to Dorraj)

However, the seeds for the rest of the series were planted in Volumes 2 and 3, with the show taking a very dark turn (which saw the deaths of a number of cast members), which saw Teams RWBY and JNPR teaming up to leave Vale to take on the shadow coalition.

The show lasted for 9 volumes when it went on hiatus due to Rooster Teeth being closed by Warner Bros-Discovery. However, this would not be the end of RWBY as Shawcross managed to sign a deal with VIZ Media to allow him and his team to finish RWBY’s story (based on the progression thus far, I would guess they have 3 more volumes left)

Unfortunately, with Rooster Teeth gone there’s very few options other than a paywall to watch the series (though I did find it on Internet Archive)

There are also two spin-off series as well

RWBY Chibi has the cast re-imagined as cutesy (or “chibi”) characters doing short skits that are little more than fluff (but very entertaining fluff, such as when Ruby writes, directs, and stars in the original production “Little Red Riding Hood” (with Blake wondering why SHE has to be the Big Bad Wolf) or when Jeane becomes the masked vigilante the Huntsman (and fails miserably at it)). The series is available on YouTube. [SPOILER ALERT: Episode 6 contains a MAJOR spoiler for RWBY Volume 3]

RWBY: Ice Queendom is a re-imagining of the first volume of RWBY in which Teams RWBY and JNPR must fight a Grimm that attacks its victims through their dreams. It’s available on Crunchyroll.

If you would like to see any volume reviewed, let me know!