#fun ghoul x reader fanfic

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Killjoys Never Die 15/15 - Save Yourself

Chapter Summary: There is only one way out: the way forward. And BLI does everything in their power to stop you. What nobody saw coming was your backup. Pairing: Fun Ghoul x fem!Reader Chapter Word Count: 4 360 Series Warnings:  mentions of drugs; poor mental health; suicidal tendencies; insecurities; throwing up;  jealousy; slavery (?); experiments on living humans; mentions of eating disorder; graphic descriptions of: violence, injuries, torture, death

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Recap: You had made it into BLI’s headquarters, freed Kobra, but on your way out directly walked into BLI’s trap.

You had made it so far, into the very heart of BLI, had found Kobra, but it had been a trap all along, and now a SCARECROW-unit had opened their fire on you.

You did not know how, but like a miracle the first salve of shot missed you, as you all simultaneously turned to run for the doors. Where would you go from there? Outside more SCARECROWs were waiting, and you had no idea where the Youngbloods were, whether they were even still alive. One step after the other, you reminded yourself, as you covered Jet and Party, who dragged Kobra along. First you had to make it to the doors.

Blindly shooting over your shoulder, you followed them. Judging by the noise behind you some of your shots even found their target.

The closer you got to the doors, the better you could make out the scene behind them. An explosion had set fire to a building across the square. Countless BLI vehicles and what looked like hundreds of SCARECROWs and DRACs had crowded between you and that building. Flames were lighting up the night, flashing cold-white lights from the cars flickered over the facades of the surrounding buildings.

There was nowhere you could go. Even if you made it out of this building, you were as good as dead. The DRACs outside would have surrounded you within seconds. The SCARECROWs behind you were closing the distance between you too fast. It was hopeless. This would be the end.

That was when Fun, being the first one in the group, reached the doors.

“Go,” he shouted, holding it open for Jet and Party, who dragged Kobra along between them. The poor guy looked like he was about to pass out.

Fun waited until you were past him, and shot you a smile.

“Save yourself, I’ll hold them back” he shouted at you, alarming you.

He wasn’t gonna do the stupid thing, which he had promised you not to do, was he? He just couldn’t, couldn’t! Still in full sprint, you tried to come to a halt, but you were already outside. And then Fun pulled the door closed between you.

“Fun!”

You scream alerted the other three, who also came to a stop, as you turned around to properly take in the situation. The glass of the door separated Fun and you. He was locked in with the SCARECROWs, you locked out, forced to watch from the other side of the glass.

He was trying to buy time, just like four years ago. He was sacrificing himself, breaking his promise to you. Because you had promised each other nobody would be left behind.

Everything else faded to the background, as you stared at him through the glass. His lips moved, saying something. You could not be sure but you were certain it was along the lines of “Can’t let you die.”

Anger bubbled in your chest, as you watched him turn his back on you, firing at the SCARECROWs who had almost caught up with him, bringing down one after the other. You remembered the huge scar right above his heart, where the blaster shot had hit him when he had been killed. History would not repeat itself, you swore to yourself. Fun would not die, sacrificing himself to save his friends. He would not die in an attempt to buy you time by protecting these doors. You would not let him die. You just couldn’t. As in a trance you lifted your own blaster, aiming at the glass, at a spot where Fun would not get hit, and fired.

Along with your first shot, suddenly the facade of a house several dozen feet to your side exploded into rubble. You could not be bothered, as you fired a second, a third shot. The glass did not splinter. Jet and Party had joined you, still holding up Kobra between them, firing at the glass relentlessly.

You ignored the SCARECROWs behind you, who had finally taken notice of you. You ignored the way the house next to the headquarters had a hole blown into its walls, ignored the white tank that suddenly rolled into the square.

No, not white. It once had been, but now graffiti and paintings were splashed all over it, the most prominent a first holding up a hand grenade. The tank moved surprisingly fast, until it was in the middle of the square, before it started firing. Not ammunition in the classical sense. It fired at the buildings, at their white facades, and wherever it landed a hit, colour exploded. Reds and greens and yellows and blues and purples and pinks.

The tank was followed by a pick-up truck, rattling over the rumble of the destroyed facade. A once blue pick-up truck with Sandman behind the wheel, Soul Punk on the passenger seat, and Novocaine and Phoenix setting of fireworks from the back of the truck; fireworks that flew to the sky, exploding into a million stars of purple and gold. They whooped and cheered over the noise of the vehicles, over the terrified screams of the SCARECROWs who had never seen this much colour in their lives.

And then came the Killjoys; shouting battle cries, and singing hymns of freedom, following the tank and the truck, dressed in the colours of the rainbow, armed with grenades of paint, and grim smiles. There were hundreds of them, swarming the square, washing over the white of the SCARECROWs and DRACs like a wave over the beach, leaving nothing in their wake but colours.

You saw none of it, did not bother. All you saw was the glass that would not shatter, the glass which separated Fun from you, the glass that trapped him with the SCARECROWs. Each shot by them that missed him was a blessing. He fired at them, while you, Party and Jet fired at the glass. But you were just as much in danger as Fun. Not all SCARECROWs had submitted to panic at the sight of the tank and the colours, instead heading straight your way.

You would not make it, you suddenly realised once more. The enemy was all around, and even with the help of whichever mysterious force the Youngbloods had brought out to play, you would not make it, not all of you.

As if to prove you right, the SCARECROWs behind you opened fire, their shots so barely missing your head that you could smell where it had singed your hair. Jet turned around, and fired back at them, but it was no use. There were simply too many.

If this was the end, you could at least say you went down fighting for the people you loved. And maybe an end like this was not too bad, with the flashes of blasters left and right, the white lights of the BLI car lights, the colourful fireworks in the sky, the colour and life of the Zones washing over the dead white of BLI.

A blaster shot from behind your back missed you so narrowly, that the white fabric of the BLI suit jacket turned brown from where it had been burned, just as the glass you had kept firing at relentlessly suddenly splintered, crashing to the ground.

Launching forward, you grabbed Fun through the splintered glass, and pulled him out backwards, your fingers twisted into the fabric of his jacket. As you turned around, you finally got a look at the scene in front of the BLI headquarters for the first time.

Colour and light were driving out the night, songs and triumphant howling roared through the air and right in the middle of it the tank, fat red letters splattered over the side. “American Idiots”. A myth, a legend, the story Killjoys told themselves to fall asleep at night. The rebels that lived on the narrow sliver of land between Battery City and the sea, the heroes who freed those citizens who began doubting BLI. None of those stories were myths, as the scene before you proved. You had never seen so many Killjoys in one place, and most likely never would again. They had come here, together with the Youngbloods. To save Kobra. To save the Fabulous Killjoys. To save you.

You only had a moment to take in the scene before the pick-up with the Youngbloods came to a screeching halt, blocking the SCARECROWs direct line to you.

“Jump in,” Novocaine shouted.

You did not have to be told twice. Party and Jet hauled Kobra to the back of the truck, trying to stay low enough to stay out of the SCARECROWs’ line of fire. Novocaine and Phoenix helped pull the others on board, before Party extended his hand to you, but you shook your head, pointing to Fun. No way would you leave him to get on last, he might just have another stupid idea. Party did seem to think the same, because he quickly grabbed Fun’s wrist and pulled him up, before both of them reached for you, helping you in as well, Fun tucking you immediately into an embrace.

You had not even sat down yet, when the truck already started driving again, accelerating so fast that you almost fell over, and off the back. Quickly Fun tightened his hold on you, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he could, keeping you from losing your balance, and dropping both of you to sit down.

“What the hell were you thinking,” you hissed at him, turning in his arms to be able to look up at him.

His eyes found yours, soft, and full of love.

“Couldn’t let you guys die there,” he answered, his face mere inches away from yours. You were wondering if he thought of kissing you. You sure as hell were tempted to kiss him, no matter how mad you were at him. Not the moment for such thoughts, you reminded yourself. “Not again. Least of all you.”

While the truck was racing over the square, Novocaine and Phoenix closed the back end of the truck, so nobody would fall off. You were heading right for the tank, as you could tell, now sitting squeezed between Fun and Kobra. Kobra’s body was strangely cool against yours, weakened from the years of malnutrition and torture, whereas Fun’s was hot from all the running and fighting he had done.

On top of the tank stood three figures, still firing what looked like paint balls, at the members of BLI, who were running around like a scared chickens, no order in their rows, as they were splattered in paint.

“Killjoys never die!” Soul Punk shouted from the front of the truck, a phrase that was repeated by the other Youngbloods.

It seemed to be a signal, because suddenly one of the Killjoys on the tank, one with dishevelled black hair, and black eyeliner, lifted a megaphone up.

“Killjoys never die!” He shouted through it, and as if on command, all the Killjoys on the ground suddenly began moving back towards the hole in the facade through which they had entered the square.

The truck took a different route though, sped off into the opposite direction and into one of the broad streets between the sky scrapers.

The last glance you got at the square before you turned the first corner showed you the extent of the damage that had been done.

The glass doors to the headquarters were broken, nothing left but shards on the ground now. The facade of the building next to it had broken down completely, where the tank had driven through it. The last Killjoys were just climbing over the rubble, the tank itself with its three Killjoys on top, the American Idiots, bringing up the rear.

The rest of the buildings were covered in paint that ran down the walls and collected in puddles of colour on the ground. The SCARECROWs and DRACs had crowded in the square, bathed in paint, still panicking, still running around aimlessly. They had been overrun. Terror had settled deep in their hearts. Within less than three minutes their precious, once white heart of the city had been turned into the most colourful place in all of the northern hemisphere.

Then they were out of sight.

Anxiously you waited for the sound of sirens, motors following you. Everyone seemed to do the same.

It was the groan of Sandman, over the rushing wind and the panting of the old truck’s motor, which drew your attention away from your fear of being followed.

“Hey, everything alright there,” Party asked. He had his arm wrapped around Kobra, but now he was stretching to see into the driver’s cabin where Sandman and Soul were sitting.

Doing the same, you found it was Soul behind the wheel instead of Sandman. You could have sworn it had been the other way around.

“Yeah, might need Jet to stich me up later,” Sandman answered, sounding both pained and amused. “Took a blast to the shoulder for you.”

The two had probably switched places after Sandman had gotten shot.

The last part was directed at Kobra, their eyes meeting, and Sandman grinned happily at the sight of his old friend.

Kobra had dropped his head to Party’s shoulder in exhaustion, but smiled too.

“Didn’t ask you to,” he answered. It sounded so awfully right to finally hear his voice again.

“I know. Still wouldn’t want it any other way,” Sandman answered, before he twisted back to sit more comfortably again.

Once the conversation had died down, you focused back on the noise around you. Wind, the motor of the truck. No BLI cars, no SCARECROWs or DRACs. No one trying to stop you from leaving the city.

The tall houses shot past, and you scanned the people around you.

Phoenix and Novocaine were sitting opposite you together with Jet. They all seemed to be as anxious to leave Battery City as you were.

As long as you were within these walls, you were in a lot more danger than literally anywhere in the Zones.

Next to you, Kobra had leant against Party, who kept his arm wrapped around his younger brother. On your other side, Fun was still holding onto the hand he had offered you when he had pulled you on the pick-up truck.

The truck was going as fast as its motor managed, and a few minutes later the tall, dangerously looming walls that marked the edge of the city, came into view. As you were driving closer and closer they seemed to lean down to you, as if they were to collapse on top of you at any moment.

You could feel yourself holding your breath, as you entered the tunnel underneath them, as you seemed to accelerate more and more. There was a barrier Soul just drove through, leaving wood and metal to splinter and fly through the air like a last reminiscence of the fireworks earlier. The tunnel was lit up with lamps, brighter than the night beyond, so when the end of the tunnel came into view it was just a growing black hole you were heading for.

You felt dizzy with relief. Finally you would be out of that damned city. The Youngbloods had saved you. You had Jet sitting opposite you, smiling at you as if to say ‘We made it. We really made it’. There were Party and Kobra, the latter’s shoulder pressing to yours, still cool, but slowly growing warmer and familiar. Oh, how you had missed him. And on your other side there was Fun, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close. You had them back, all of them. You were complete again, free.

The truck sped towards the black hole that was the night beyond the tunnel without slowing down, and the second the cool night air hit your faces, the smell of desert sand filling your noses, the people around you erupted in cheers. Soul Punk kept driving, but everyone was cheering and laughing, hugging each other. You were all alive. You had made it.

But before you could join in on the celebration, there was a tuck at your shoulder, and a moment later warm lips pressed to yours.

You did not think twice as you twisted around so you could kiss Fun back, just pressed yourself closer to him, wrapped your hands in his hair and pulled him in. He smelled of motor oil, and sweat, and pine trees. All these years you had dreamt of kissing him, all these nights you had spent next to him, wondering if maybe he felt the same. And now he was kissing you, breathless and euphoric about the life you finally felt pumping in your veins again.

You laughed as you kissed him, felt his lips pull into a grin too, but he refused to pull back. You had been separated for too long, he had been ready to give his life just so you had a chance to live, and you had proven that you could survive without him dying for you. That you did not want him to make such a sacrifice.

In the back of your mind you remembered the promise he had made you, that he would not try to sacrifice himself, and that he had broken it. But that was secondary now. Because he was kissing you, and your whole body tingled with endorphins, making you dizzy, but still you could not pull away from him, from his chapped lips, his rough hands holding you close.

You could feel his heartbeat, his strands of black hair whipping around you in the wind. When he pressed his tongue to yours lips, you almost flinched in surprise, but parted you lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, running over your own.

Fun tasted of freedom, of life, of safety, of love. Nothing in the world would be able to compare to it. His hands found their way through the layers of your clothing, past the once white BLI uniform, and under your normal clothes, until his palms were flat on your waist. Rough hands on delicate skin. You could tell he savoured the feeling of you under his hands, of the life he could feel under his fingertips, and he sighed quietly into the kiss as you cupped the side of his face, pulling him closer to kiss you deeper.

His heartbeat thrummed in his hands, his lips, against your palm as you held his face. He was alive and warm and kissing you as passionately as if he had longed to do it for years. Little did you know that he actually had. His whole body was tense, from trying to hold you to him as close as possible, but at the same time he seemed to relax into your touch; strong muscles and scarred but soft skin. And when he eventually pulled away, lips pulled into the biggest smile you had ever seen on him, you knew that – no matter what happened – you would never be separated from him again.

“I love you,” he breathed over the rushing of wind, just loud enough for you to hear.

You leant in, kissed him again, gentler this time, whispered the words back against his lips, and he tightened his embrace on you, smiling at the confession.

When you finally pulled away, you felt like you were drained off all energy. You had not eaten since this morning, had crawled through sewers, ran up stairs, had thought one of your best friends had died, not once, but twice, had run down stairs, had fought your way out from behind a line of enemies, and still somehow none of this was as exhausting as the feeling of relief to find out your feelings were reciprocated by Fun.

Leaning your head against his shoulder as the truck bumped over stones and rocks, racing through the nightly desert, you found the stars in the sky above you were shining brightly, untouched by the damage BLI caused. It was a comfort, knowing that nothing could touch that beauty, and even if they were not always visible from earth, they would always be there.

Fun brushed his hand over your arm, and rested his head against yours. He whispered something, and almost the words would have been lost to the wind, but you still caught them.

“I’m never letting you go again.”

They made your cheeks heat up, and quickly you turned your head, pressing your lips to the side of his neck.

“Neither will I.”

The sun was rising by the time you had made it to Zone 6. There was no reason to return to the Diner. It had been compromised, you knew that. If BLI had not burnt it to the ground as they had claimed, they at least knew where you had been staying, and it would certainly be swarmed by DRACs in a few hours. Instead Soul had stirred you further to the south, to a small shed, one you had not seen in years. There was one last good bye to make, before you would leave the Zones. It had been decided that you would all go East. To DEMA.

Soul did not drive too close to the shed, just close enough to be able to make out the details. Party was about to jump off the truck, when Kobra pointed to the roof of the shed.

“She’s there.”

Against the brightening horizon you could make out the shape of a person sitting on the corrugated iron roof. At the sight of the stopped pick-up, they stood up. Brown curls stood up into all directions, and they lifted a hand to their eyes, to help them see against the rising sun.

Jet and Kobra got up too, and Fun offered you a hand, as you all stepped to the edge of the truck.

It had been four years since you had last seen the Girl. You had never dared coming back. All she knew was that the men who had protected her had died. She did not know they were back.

Until now.

Even from the distance you could see how surprised she was, and then the relief.

“Wanna get closer,” Soul asked from behind the wheel, but Party shook his head.

Lifting his hands to his mouth he shouted: “Killjoys never die!”

It took a moment, but then the Girl repeated the gesture.

“Keep running!”

Her voice was quiet, clear like a small bell in the cool morning air. It tucked at you heart, and you wanted to run over to her, and hug her for hours, to explain all that had happened. But that would have to wait.

There was a new mission that needed to be taken care of in order to stop BLI from producing new weapons, new nightmarish technology. You needed to leave to protect her. She knew that. She had always known that. She had always been so much cleverer, so much stronger than a child of her age should have to be. And now she also knew that you were not alone anymore.

The truck began moving again, and quickly you all sat down, waving at the Girl until she disappeared in the distance.

There was purpose again, a new goal: Bring down DEMA. There were crews who had requested your help. There were people you wanted to protect, who you cared about. People who loved you as much as you loved them. There was a new fight, a new battle in an ongoing war. You had won the last one with the help of your friends and a mysterious group you had thought were nothing but a legend. You had lost many times, but now that you had won once, and you would win again. For the Girl. For the American Idiots. For the Youngbloods. For Party. And Kobra. And Jet. For Fun. Fun, who had his arm wrapped around you, his head sunk to your shoulder as he dozed off.

You ran your fingers through his hair. Fun. Fun who you always had thought disliked you, but simply did not know how to deal with his emotions. Fun, who got jealous easily, until the moment he knew your heart belonged to him, who was so protective, so fragile, so strong, so stubborn, so loyal, who loved so hard, so much, so deeply. And he loved you.

You kissed his hair, and buried your nose in it, inhaling the same scent that had brought you peace so many nights. Motor oil. Pine trees. You had almost lost him today again. You had been so close to losing everyone. But after all these traps BLI had prepared for you, you still had made it out.

Taking another deep breath against Fun’s hair, you settled in a way that allowed you to both bury your nose in it, as well as keep your lips pressed to his head.

Around you the others, except for Soul who was driving, had already fallen asleep, neither of them having mentioned anything about Fun and you, maybe because they had assumed it was no new development. At least that was what you imagined they might think considering the conversation you had had with Soul about Fun the night before you had gone to Battery City.

Relaxing, engulfed by Fun’s warmth and the safety he provided, you closed your eyes. New adventures were waiting, but this time you knew you would face them side by side with your friends, with the people you trusted with your life. No, they were more than friends, had always been more than that. They were family.

As the pick-up truck kept speeding east, into the rising sun, into a new chapter of your lives, towards a new danger, a new adventure, you could not help but smile against Fun’s hair as you realised that even after your friends had died, they had all come back to life. Maybe there was some truth in that saying, you thought, as morning sun beams, wind and Fun’s hair tickled your face: Killjoys never die.

The End

Taglist:

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[deadsetromance]

any jet star or fun ghoul content 🙏 i adore your writing

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

not my gif!

fun ghoul x gn!reader

summary: you didn’t know loving someone could hurt this much. but god, you love him so much, you’re dying

warnings: angst, hanahaki, body horror, illness, blood, gore, mentions and graphic depictions of death/dying, no use of y/n, not proofread

note: thank you so much anon ! that made my day <3 i combined two prompts here! i had sososo much fun figuring out a way to work hanahaki into the killjoy universe. hope you all enjoy :))

there was no room for love in the cruel world you lived in. if your heart hadn’t been hardened by the drugs bli pumped into you, or the fear alone, the desert sun would wither it for you.

partnerships–if they were formed at all–were purely beneficial. you’d seen  it countless times. shell-shocked, desert hardened duos, with nothing left to cling onto but each other. 

you were part of the unlucky bunch. by some cruel joke the phoenix witch played, you found yourself tumbling head over heels for one of the fabulously famous killjoys. you’d met fun ghoul during a supply run which had gone costa rica. he’d saved your life, taken you under his wing, and somehow managed to run laps around your heart.

you weren’t entirely sure when you’d fallen in love with him. maybe it was when he patched you up after a run-in with a drac, scolding you for not being careful, his fingers leaving trails of goosebumps on your bare skin. it could have been one of the times you sat together on the roof of the diner, where you both mapped out made up constellations. if you had to guess, it would have been the time he’d shown you how to fix up a part of the trans am, his chest pressed up against your back as he whispered instructions to you. 

you would have been perfectly content running with your adopted crew of killjoys, denying the extent of your feelings for a certain black haired renegade. 

but fate was cruel, and reserved no mercy for you.  

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

you had heard of it in rumors, whispers floating around in the sand until the origin was as lost as you were. they called them desert roses, blooming after unrequited love. no one knew where it came from. some suspected it was the work of bli. others pointed to otherworldly forces, or even some twisted form of survival of the fittest. there was only one thing about it that was certain. it was fatal. 

no one really talks about how painful it is. 

it starts with shortness of breath, deathly rattling coming from deep inside your chest as roses sprout in your lungs. it’s supposed to progress rapidly. one day you start coughing up rose petals, and within a week your throat is torn to shreds. when you die, roses sprout from your throat. whether you suffocate before or after is unknown.

 after all, no one has lived to tell.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

you hadn’t thought much of it at first. shortness of breath and rattling wheezes go hand in hand with the coarse sand of the desert. everyone gets static-throat at least once, but it goes away after a few days. 

after the third day you began to worry. the pain working its way up your chest paired with an unfamiliar tightness was concerning. and then came the coughing. it sounded like death, shaking you violently, to the point where fun ghoul would shoot you worried looks. 

“hey, you alright?” he’d asked you after one particularly bad coughing fit, arm draped around your shoulders. 

“‘m fine.” the hacking noise you made said otherwise. you coughed into your palm, surprised when you felt something wet. blood. 

it trickled down your arm, but what scared you most was the blood spattered rose petal lying in your palm. 

“what’s that?” you were quick to hide your hand, assuring him that it was nothing. “honey…you’re coughin’ blood.” 

you couldn’t say anything more after that, the sound of the pet name leaving his lips made your chest constrict so tight you could hardly breathe. 

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

you’d never told anyone before, but you’d seen a body once. it was in one of the villages in the outskirts of zone four. it was just…lying there, the roses spouting from the poor soul’s mouth beginning to wilt under the scorching desert sun. someone was digging a grave.

that was you, in your nightmare. your decaying body replaced the one you had seen, bloody roses sprouting from your mouth. someone…fun ghoul, was digging your grave. he turned, locking eyes with you and…

you woke up screaming. your stomach flipped, and you ran out into the sand, spitting up a mix of stems and thorns. fun had followed you out, waking at the sound of your screams. you kicked sand over the blood before he could see anything. 

“sweetheart…” at the sound of his voice you turned around again, watching in horror as rosebuds fell from your mouth. “hey. hey you’re not okay.” he was worried. you could hear it in his voice, but you couldn’t look at him. 

“i told you, i’m fine.” wiping the blood from your chin, you turned to face him. “i promise. ’s just sand in my throat…promise.” you could feel the stems creeping up your throat.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

you were dying. you knew you were. you couldn’t eat or drink because of the roses in your throat. you were withering away, and no matter how hard you tried to hide it from everyone, they still noticed. 

fun ghoul was ever so worried about you. by the time you realized his connection to the roses growing in your chest, you feared it would be too late. 

the sound of someone saying your name woke you up. “hi.”

“hi,” you whispered back. you couldn’t do much more than whisper at this point, your throat slowly being shredded by the thorns you would spit up. 

“i’m worried about you.” he pet your forehead, wiping away the sweat from your face.

“fun…” you could feel the tightness of your chest grow. you held in your cough. he couldn’t know. if he knew…

“you haven’t eaten, or drank, or…” his voice was shaking. or maybe you were just hallucinating. “you’re running a fever, and i know you’ve been coughin’ blood…just….talk to me. let me help you…please.”

he was pleading now, and it made you feel sick. you loved him, god you loved him so much, and he didn’t love you back, and now you were dying. that was it then. you would die, and he would never know how you felt. at least, not until it was too late.

you coughed so hard you saw spots. fun ghoul must have left the room at some point, but you didn’t notice.

you knew you were going to die tonight.

you didn’t know dying hurt so bad. you would feel yourself slip closer to death with each rattling gasp you took. you were dizzy and you couldn’t breathe, stuck in some sick limbo between alive and dead.

they say the phoenix witch grants you peace with happy memories before you die. maybe they were right, because in your not quite dead state, you saw it all. the bad jokes, and the nor so subtle flirting, and hell even the longing glances shared between you and fun ghoul. you saw the time he saved you all those years ago, and the time you scared him while he was working on the trans am. you saw yourself sparring with him, and the other killjoys laughing in the sunlight. you saw the time the both of you had got caught in the garage during an acid storm, all the times he had kissed you forehead, and the way you slept wrapped up in his arms.

you were going to die, but he had to know how you felt. 

your legs felt like jelly and you almost didn’t make it to the door. the walls spun and your body slammed into the doorframe of fun’s room. the handle wouldn’t twist bo matter how hard you tried, you were going to die outside his room and he would never know. 

you couldn’t even call his name, your voice gurgling behind blood and roses. vision going dark, you heaved one last time, your chest caving alongside the door.

it was dark, but you could still see him sitting up. he looked so…comforting, and you all but collapsed into him gasping as he stroked your face.

“hey, what’s goin’ on? wh-“

“i love you.” you were choking on the words as the tumbled out of your mouth, flowers blooming in the back of your throat. you couldn’t breathe but you had to tell him. “i love you and i’m going to die”

he didn’t say anything and you gasped, fighting to stay alive for just a little longer.

“please. i just…the flowers….say something…” your words died in your throat as a rose bloomed in your mouth, silencing you. it was over.

his panicked face would be the last thing you would see, and it would all be over…..except….“you love me…?” his voice was warm, and sweet, and tired, and it sounded like heaven. you couldn’t do anything but nod, choking on your last breath. “you love me…”

*** 

the sun was always warm in the desert. but it felt different today, kissing your skin as you curled up against fun ghoul, who had been whispering love letters to you all night. he had told you he loved you with everything he had, he had held you close as you both thought that you were going to die. but death never came. 

he had been oblivious to the way you felt…just as oblivious as you had been to him. it all meant something, the touches, and the jokes…it was all there. it didn’t matter much, you had each other now…and while your throat still burned from the rose that had bloomed over the week, the way he kissed you made you forget about it all…

he took you out to the roof that night, careful and slow and you coughed, watching as a great red rose fell from your lips, before it shriveled and turned into star dust, joining the rest of the sand that you called home.

“i love you…” his voice was soft, his fingers trailing over your skin and you couldn’t help but smile. 

you were tired, worn to the bone but you were alive. alive and perfectly in love.

[ghuleh-recs]

Liss!! Helloo!! Can i pretty please request some phantom × f!reader smut 😚? Maybe bottom Phantom if you got any... but I'm just an animal

Helloo!! You sure fucking can! Not a lot of bottom Phantom fics to be found so I just kinda focused on "subby" Phantom. As always, thanks for your patience and I hope there's something in here that fits the bill!

recs under the cut.

Kinktober Day 1: Pegging - @bloodsuckingfiends

He looked so pretty like this. Hands hooked under his knees pulling them towards his flushed chest. His lips cherry-red and swollen from your kisses, and his teeth worrying into them whenever your strap dragged just right inside him.

the potential of you and me - @gravehags

He doesn’t mean to start doing it. It just sort of…happens.

Lessons - @sentientgolfball - Phantom x Swiss x Reader

Phantom admits he's never been with a human. You and Swiss share a look before deciding that's about to change. *He's not a bottom or all that subby here--but you've gotta just trust me on this one.

Rituale Septem - Day 2: Sloth - @da-rulah

With one sin down, your focus is on day two; the sin of sloth. Terzo sends his Ghouls to take care of your every need, so you don't have to lift a finger...

Uniform - @her-satanic-wiles

“I’m s-sorry.” “You will be.” You cut all physical contact with him and stepped back, leaning up against your desk again. “Kneel on the floor.” You told him. He obeyed immediately, getting on his knees and looking up at you with wide, expectant eyes. and don't miss part 2 here!

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

(There is always a standing invitation to add your own recs to any of my lists! Especially if you're a writer and you wrote something that fits the bill!)

[sw33tsuccubus]

Radiowaves

fun ghoul x reader

desc: reader is worried about Ghoul

genre: comfort/fluff

A/N: not proofread 💔 sorry i haven’t written in a while, writers block :((

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Poison turned on the radio, heading the crackling of someone in the other end. Everyone else looked at the red head.

“Hello?”

“Poison? Hey, it’s Y/n. How is everyone?”

Ghoul’s eyes widen. He would love to talk to his partner, but something tells him it would be a bad idea. Jet and Kobra look at Poison uneasily.

“Uhh.. we’re alright. You?”

“I’m doing fine. The missions almost over, I’ve got what I need. I’ll be home soon.”

Ghoul semi-panics. The others decide that the two need to talk, so Poison places the radio on the table in front of him. They three silently wish him luck and then leave.

Ghoul scowls at their backs, and places a hand on his arm. What’s left of it, anyways.

“Hello?”

“Hey, bug.”

“Oh, Ghoul! How are you?”

Y/n’s tone is happy, and Ghould doesn’t find that fair. They’re gonna be so upset when they find out!

“I’m.. okay. We got into a clap earlier.”

“Oh, that sucks. You all okay?”

Ghoul nervously chuckles.

“About that..”

On the other end of the radio, Y/n looks worriedly at the radio. They know that Ghoul and Kobra both fight recklessly.

“What happened, dear?”

Ghoul frowns. Y/n only calls him those soft pet names when they’re worried.

“Uhhh… you sure you want to know?”

Ghoul looks at his arm. Blown off above the elbow, it’s bloodily wrapped in a bandage and is now a stud.

“Yes? Ghoul, you’re worrying me.”

Ghoul’s past the crying and screaming part of being an amputee. He’s frowning and resisting the urge to touch it.

“Well.. my left arm is gone above the elbow and down.”

There’s silence for a moment. Ghoul bites a nail nervously. And then-

“WHAT!”

“Yeahh..”

“Are you okay? Ghoul.. I’m coming home right now.”

“No! I’m fine. Complete the mission.”

“I already did. I’m coming home. See you.”

“Y/n-“

Ghoul groans as the radio cuts out. He goes to stuff it away, and then stares at what’s left of his arm. What does this mean for him?

~~~

“Fun Ghoul!”

Ghoul looked up, grinning. He looks pained, but he’s happy.

“Hey, boo.”

“You okay?”

Reader rushes over, placing their hands on his cheeks, cupping his face. They kiss his forehead, their eyes casting to his arm. They gasp, their face a mix of fear and concern.

“Are… are you actually okay?”

Ghoul nods, turning his head to nuzzle their hand.

“‘m okay. Over the shock of it all, now. It’s just… gone now.”

Ghoul wiggles the stump of an arm, and then grins.

“Do I get benefits of being disabled now?”

Reader shakes their head, sighing. They lean down and hug Ghoul, placing their forehead against his.

“You are okay, right?”

Ghoul gives Reader a soft look, wrapping his arm around Reader’s waist.

“Thanks for caring, bug. I know you get tired sometimes, but you keep carin’ about me.”

“Because I love you?”

Reader wraps their arms around Ghoul, and lift him up. He wraps his legs around their waist, and they carry him to their shared bedroom. They lay him down, and stroke his hair.

“Sleep, Fun. I can tell you’re exhausted.”

Ghoul whines, wanting to stay up with his partner, but he knows they’ll be mad if he doesn’t rest. He closes his eyes, and he’s out in about two minutes. Reader continues stroking his hair, until they hear Ghoul’s soft snoring. They then stand, and walk to Jet’s room. He’s busy tinkering with something.

“What are you doing?”

Jet looks up and smiles at Reader.

“I’m making an arm for Ghoul. Buddy needs two for multiple reasons, and this should be stronger than any of us. Strong punches against BL/i, yknow. Plus, steadier than his real hands.”

Reader nods, and then walks over. So far, it’s just wires and trinkets. Reader hums, watching Jet work.

“We’re going to need to decorate it like he would, and let it be a surprise for him, yknow?”

Jet nods. The two stand in silence for a long time. The sun starts to rise, and the two are still there. Reader began to help Jet, handing him things he asks for. By now, Jet has the inside mechanism working. He’ll make the outside, like armor, and then Reader will decorate.

With the sound of footsteps outside, Reader hurries over to check. Just Kobra heading to the bathroom. They say ‘goodmorning’ and then Reader wishes Jet goodbye as they go back to their room. Ghoul is still asleep, but now curled in a ball.

Reader gently smiles and walks over, laying down to spoon him. They fall asleep, and wake up to Ghoul poking their lips with a spoon. They groan at the taste of Power Pup, and then open their mouth. Ghoul giggles, feeding them to the best of his ability.

After Ghoul’s finished feeding Reader, he pulls them into his lap. He grins devilishly at them, and then licks his lips.

“You know, it’s been a while..”

Reader rolls their eyes. They playfully push him, and then climb off his lap. They pick up clothes, assembling an outfit.

“Like that?”

Reader gestures to Ghoul’s arm.

I’d love to, but you’re not in shape.”

Reader makes a kissy face at Ghoul, and he pouts. He whines, holding his arm and stub out for his theyfriend.

“Sorry, dear, but I don’t wanna hurt you. Besides, I’ve gotta plug everyone else in with the mission. You keep resting, don’t wear yourself out.”

Ghoul whines again as Reader leaves. They can’t help but grin as they walk to Jet’s room. Luckily, they don’t hear footsteps as he closes the door and sits beside him.

“How’s it coming along?”

“It’s going well. See?”

Jet got about two layers over. He said he was gonna do five, keeping it strong and reliable.

Reader sits, kicking their feet as Jet builds. He hopes Ghoul’s glad; he’s never enjoyed getting help from others. He says it makes him feel weak.

When Jet’s finished with the fifth layer, he hums. They’ve both been in there for a few hours, and they’re both sweating. It’s like baking in the sun, but they’re both dedicated to taking care of their friends.

As soon as Jet finishes, he hands it to Reader.

“Go crazy.”

~~~

“Fun?”

Ghoul looks up. His bandage has been off for a week now; it’s been about four months since the incident. His tee shirt fits loosely enough that it covers the stub, going to his elbow on his arm.

“Yeah, boo?”

“Come here, I’ve got something for you.”

Ghoul smiles, and then skips over. He hums with curiosity. Reader hands him a robotic arm, and Ghoul’s face lights up excitedly. It’s decorated with little bomb and cartoony explosion stickers, and Ghoul giggles like an excited child.

Reader helps him out it on, and he tries it out. He clenched the fingers, and then wraps the arm around Reader. He pulls them close, and they squeak at how strong it is.

Ghoul’s face lights up, and he presses a sloppy kiss to Reader’s lips.

“I’ve gotta practice shooting now. And building bombs. I’m behind, I’m gonna get rusty. I need to do a lot with this actually-“

“Fun, my sweet maniac. Calm down. You’re gonna have this forever, you’ll have a lot of time to practice with it.”

Reader caresses Ghoul’s cheek, and he leans into the touch. He moves his head slightly, biting down on Reader’s finger. They let out a surprised sound.

Ghoul giggles, and then kisses their palm.

“You’re the… jelly to my peanut butter. You make things sweeter.”

Reader grins.

“That’s stupid Fun. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hard Feelings

Hancock x Fem! Sole Survivor / Reader Insert

(AO3)

Summary: You are the General of the Minutemen. Hancock is your companion when out on missions. It's all fun and games until there are hard feelings at play, the ghoul thinking that one day you just might leave him.

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for PiV sex, public sex (sort of), MAKEUP sex, switching, praise kink, heavy petting and kissing, fingering, biting, angst, a small domestic dispute, and negative thoughts and feelings associated with oneself (Hancock). In this fic, Hancock displays golden retriever boyfriend energy, and he is more submissive. He also experiences low self-worth, and feelings of inadequacy, which leads to doubt. At some point, he has a panic attack.

Notes: Another fanfic that is completely self-indulgent. I was inspired when I took Hancock to the Starlight Drive-In for the Minutemen mission. We were briefly separated when I (sole) climbed onto the roof of the movie screen. Hancock ran around down below in a panic, thus this idea blossomed; I mention it in this post. I stole Teeth's nickname for Hancock: Hanni. ;D )

Word count: 4.7k+

A gentle peal of thunder rocked the night, just hours from daybreak, the eerie green glow of your pre-war Pip-boy casting its luminescence across the present object of your interest: a sullied movie poster. It was curling at its edges, the faded face of a starlet frozen in time with her mouth agape having snatched your attention, for better or worse, as this potential settlement had yet to be explored—there was no telling what lurked out there among the shadows.

Rita Jean Scarlett was staring into the eyes of not man, but insect, The Barfly calling out to you from a bygone era. It was an Old World tale of weird science gone wrong, filled with hubris and lessons learned all too late. Not too far off from the reality of things, you mused, though meant as fiction, actor Chip Weathers having adorned the costume of the “ghastly” monster for his starring role. 

The creature had bulbous eyes and sticky clawed feet, yet wore a suit and hat. Once considered the stuff of nightmares, now things like this seemed to you like child’s play. You regularly joined in the company of ghouls; robots; synthetic humans, and even super mutants. You faced adversaries on the daily that would make prey animals of yesteryear look like teddy bears—an unnerving thought, but it caused you to smile regardless. 

“What are you grinnin’ about?” a curious voice asked, the creak of worn red leather signaling his closeness; two thin arms encircled you, pitted hands smoothing over skintight, extruded rubber, shiny as the ghoul’s black eyes.

“Just about how things that used to be science fiction are now science fact,” you offered vaguely, casting a glance downward to the sight of yourself being molested, Hancock groping your tit—like any typical man—before it maneuvered lower, gliding over your belly to dip between your thighs.

“Hancock!” you breathed, your pulse quickening, loins already beginning to throb as blemished fingers stroked the line of your vault suit, teasing you at its seam. 

“Hmm?” he hummed, ignoring the tone in which he had been addressed. He asked another question, even as he continued to fondle you sans mercy.  

“Things like me?” 

Hancock was unhurried, enjoying the sleek texture of the glossy fabric against the underside of his thumb. He was positive he was making you wet, wondering how long you might last before you were begging him to fuck you, just like a few hours previous.

However, his query caught you off guard, your mind preoccupied as your palm came to rest over John’s explorative hand, holding it firm, the ghoul taking liberty with your breasts again, cupping one’s shape to give it a squeeze.

“Things that shouldn’t exist? Like that monster up there who thinks he’s human,” he growled silkily, finely wrinkled digits pinching your pebbled nipple through that damnable suit that left nothing to the imagination, John’s prick hardening against the back of your leg.

“You might say that,” you replied without thinking, thoughts clouded with pleasure that would all too suddenly end, so careless was your answer that the ghoul recoiled.

“Really,” John flatly returned, as if for some reason not at all surprised, his warm, gentle touch leaving you longing, confused as to why he was beginning to walk away.

You turned from the ticket booth, staring after your lover as he kicked a loose rock across asphalt; it bounced, ricocheting off an overturned cigarette machine. Hancock pretended to be engrossed in the diner just up ahead, a part of the Starlight Drive-In theater, you both having been warned about raiders before traveling here.

“Hancock.” You followed closely behind; he did not pay you any mind, as if he had not heard you, acting about as mature as a spoiled child who was giving you the dreaded silent treatment.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you claimed, though it was the truth. To be asked that question to begin with seemed like he was fishing for flattery, but who were you to deny the charismatic Mayor of Goodneighbor a harmless stroke to his ego, especially when he meant so much to you.

“Is that where the “might” part comes in?” he snapped, his tone irritated; it was becoming obvious that he had not expected you to agree with him on such matters, the conversation quickly devolving. 

“Is this our first fight? Are we fighting?” you asked, Hancock’s beady eyes narrowing beneath his hairless brow at the flippant way you were brushing off his feelings, or so he thought. 

“Look, if you don’t want to travel with a ghoul, why didn’t you just say so— got better things I could be doing,” he groused, namely chems with his name on them. 

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to stop you from doing those better things,” you returned, not understanding why he couldn’t just forgive you for something said in passing.

“Always a smart ass,” he complained, as if Hancock himself wasn’t guilty of using his fair share of sarcasm.

Had you not been so heated, you may have remembered just how self-conscious the sociable, charming mayor actually was. His confidence was partially a façade, though he wasn’t one to normally bring down a mood with his own insecurities. Being the introspective sort meant that Hancock wasn’t afraid to get to the heart of things, even at the cost of his own self-esteem. 

John had even allowed you in, being vulnerable by sharing details of his sorrowful past; it was no secret the ending had been bittersweet, if not unhappy. His own appearance had sickened him; he found it hard to believe a gal like you wanted anything to do with him, much less desire to share a bed together, especially since he wasn’t exactly a looker by human standards.

Perhaps you had failed to give him reassurance when it was needed, though temporarily blinded by your temper. Instead of trying to clear things up, you made it worse. 

“You’d be one to know,” you baited.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hancock shot back, droplets of rain beginning to descend toward the ground.

“You know what? Go over there, check that place out.” You gruffly dismissed him, pointing toward the diner. “I think we both need some time to cool off,” you added, voice sounding less than amicable toward the man whose forehead lurched, as if he had been punched in the gut. 

“Yeah? Fine.” John’s feelings were hurt more by this simple demand than anything you had said thus far, Hancock behaving like a scolded puppy whose owner had treated it unfairly.

You shook your head as you watched him march away, Hancock’s red frock coat glistening thanks to a now steady sprinkle. You sighed, turning toward a slew of rusting, run-down autos, spying a shed somewhere in the distance—you hoped it had a crafting station, as your orders from Preston Garvey were clear.

---

No raiders were present, only mole rats and radroaches. Hancock had kept his distance at your request, though you weren’t so oblivious that you failed to notice the way he routinely hovered only a stone’s throw away. The ghoul was caught basking in your shadow more than once, stealing glimpses, a frown pulling down the edges of his thin-lipped mouth. Yet he would move along the moment you laid your eyes on him, as if embarrassed, not wishing to be the victim of your ire.  

Overall, he seemed to be taking things about as well as you had hoped, though he had technically been the one to start it. You weren’t a mind reader, either, refusing to try and decipher his body language despite the moping, waiting for a time you felt more at ease.

Although, it undeniably tugged at your heartstrings—knowing he was suffering in some capacity—but you kept a clear head, focusing on the task at hand—building a radio relay tower from spare parts in order to reach out to others, reclaiming the theater in the name of the Minutemen with the sole purpose of making the Commonwealth a better place, one settlement at a time.

It was when another accursed mole rat burst forth from its earthy den that you yelped in surprise, drawing your double-action revolver almost a moment too late. With teeth nipping at your toes, you shot the beast, Hancock having dashed to your aid.

You glanced back at him, rattled; he seemed satisfied knowing you weren’t hurt, though his gaze lingered, as if there was something on the tip of his tongue. 

After a moment, he asked, “Can we talk?”

“Not right now.” You shook yourself off, taking a deep breath to assist in the slowing of your pulse. You returned to your workstation, deciding it wasn’t appropriate to address any more personal issues at this juncture—you both had a job to do.

“Sure, got it,” Hancock said grouchily, the ghoul wandering off to continue sifting through various piles of refuse for any usable materials to add to your haul, though inside it felt as if gnarled fingers were cinching tightly around his heart. Anxiety was welling within him, as not being on good terms with you did not sit right; beneath the surface, he was a troubled bundle of nerves, though he did not want to rush you by any means.

If only you knew about the disturbing thoughts that were crawling up John’s brainpan, slithering through the cracks to possess his mental faculties, feeding them fear; unsurety, outwardly expressed by way of a sour attitude. So involved was he with the many voices collecting in his head, that he failed to notice when you had finished installing the relay tower, your instincts guiding you to the Starlight Drive-in’s once magnificent three-story screen.

You took the stairs, moving past a shoddy door to climb to the top. The sun was newly risen, a fine mist hanging over the expansive parking lot, rays of light from your planet’s star casting a beautiful glow along remnants of grass, present in patches, though the area was plagued by the contamination of rads—another item on your to-do list. 

You were enjoying the view when you observed Hancock poking around the last place he’d seen you, determining you were in a better mood and willing to talk. You had planned to call out to him when you saw him run the other way, circling the diner, and then the first place you had gathered—the ticket booth where you had exchanged unpleasantries. 

Confused, you continued your study of his erratic behavior, wondering if there was some unknown enemy skulking about, yet Hancock had no weapon drawn, his gait all at once frantic and without rhyme or reason, the ghoul seeming to have no particular destination in mind. 

“Hancock?” you asked yourself quietly, baffled at how John was going insofar as to peek inside doorless cars, or even under them, kicking into a full-fledge run as he made his way toward your perch. He wasn’t paying heed to anything that wasn’t at ground-level, failing to notice you up high above.

“Han—” you were enthralled, the ghoul almost as fast as a feral, which was a less than comforting thought, watching as John ran a lap around the base of the screen. 

You followed, pushing off the railing to walk the few short steps to the opposite side, catching him turn the corner as he looped back around. It wasn’t until you heard his panicked breathing and the terrified whisper of your name that you completely understood, gut clenching as Hancock came to a disconcerting stop. 

The poor thing looked to be having a meltdown, head darting to the left and right, though the only thing visible to you was the top of his tricorn hat. He began to pace, first one direction, and then another, not keeping to east or west, but zigzagging as if he couldn’t decide where to go, or what to do. 

He called your name again, this time louder, sounding more distressed. You could not tear your eyes away as Hancock fell to his knees, fingers digging into soft dirt as the ghoul appeared to be in the throes of a panic attack.

Was he—

Spurred to action, you turned toward the way you came in, quick to rush down the stairs as swiftly as your legs could carry you. You sprinted around the bend of the building, nearly bumping into an abandoned cooking station off to your right, skirting it in the nick of time; you passed behind the structure, witness to a heartbreaking sight.

“Hey,” you whispered, Hancock having pushed himself back against the wall, knees to chest. The ghoul was tightly hugging his own legs, his marred face buried in the folds of his coat.

You weren’t sure what was happening, or why, only that he seemed deeply upset he could not find you, not expecting your brief absence would have such a negative effect. The ghoul was mumbling words you could not discern as you tiptoed forward, bending down to his level to address his huddled form.

“Hanni?” you asked gently, calling him by a pet name you had given him so long ago, John’s head shooting up, onyx eyes glistening, though you dare not think he had shed tears on your behalf. 

Hancock gazed at you, his expression a mix of sadness, incredulity, and stark relief. You placed a hand on his shoulder, concern marking your features, John not budging from his half-fetal position. 

“I thought—" he began, voice cracking, words quavering with an emotion you could not quite define, “—I thought you’d skipped out on me,” he offered pathetically, the amount of hurt present in his eyes enough to make you feel as if you deserved to die. So devastating was the look plastered across his handsome, ghoulish face that you wanted to cry, moving to cup his ruined cheek in the crux of your palm.

“Why would I do that?” you asked, tone soft but firm, staring at your reflection within gorgeous, dark depths, as if the answer lay hidden somewhere deep inside them.

“Because I don’t deserve you; because you can do better than me,” he answered without hesitation, “because who would want to be stuck with this ugly mug; wouldn’t wish it on my own worst enemy,” he finished flatly, Hancock’s dispirited disposition arising from being rejected—that’s not to say he blamed you.

“Didn’t wanna talk, ignoring me, couldn’t find you—just figured you were through,” he continued, tone solemn, making you feel awful. 

You had deeply sinned to make this man react in such a manner—that was your first thought, Hancock’s gloomy mood permeating your defenses. All the walls you had in place came tumbling down, feeling nearly sick to your stomach as you scooched forward, prompting Hancock to drop his knees, legs finding even ground.

“No,” you berated, “none of that is true.” You shifted, straddling the ghoul, your other hand joining its partner to cradle his jaw opposite. “I won’t leave you,” you pledged, placing a kiss atop his furrowed mouth. “The thought never even crossed my mind.”

Hancock searched your face; he expelled a dejected sigh, breathing out through the hollow cavity that once housed his human nose. “You—you’re the best thing I’ve got. I don’t want to lose you, sunshine. I’d be dead in a ditch somewhere if it weren’t for you, hopped up on chems,” he admitted, hanging his head. “But don’t think I would blame you for hittin’ the road. I’d manage, somehow. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to make do, so just say the word. Don’t feel obligated to stick around.” 

“Is that what you think? That I would abandon you? That I would get sick of you? That I don’t want you here by my side? Hancock—” you emphasized, running your thumb over the curve of his ear, forcing him to look squarely at you with a gentle redirection, “—I mean it when I say I love you,” you lamented, kissing his raised flesh. “Please, don’t doubt me.” 

John lifted his head with your help, the concave divot residing front and center brushing lightly across your cheek. He presented you with a kiss this time, his cock enlivening beneath you, unable to help his arousal at the admission of your heartfelt words. 

“I won’t, not anymore,” he promised, another kiss administered, and then another, returning each touch of his lips with one of your own until they picked up in fervor, Hancock’s sly tongue subtly snaking its way between your teeth. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” you cooed, warm, wet muscles intertwining in an orchestrated dance that rekindled the deep-seated ache of your loins. 

“You listen so well,” you needled playfully; you had the ghoul’s number, knowing just what made him tick.

Hancock moaned a sound of gratitude, your impromptu praise causing his prick to flex, lean, wilted fingers creeping forward to place themselves deliberately along your thighs; they ran up the dips in your hips, and smoothed over the shape of your waist.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Hancock grated between avid swirls. His cock was riding up against your slinky blue vault suit—like liquid latex poured to conform to your body, it fit tight as a glove.

John held no complaints, only that you were still wearing it. Fortunately, you had ideas. 

“Being such a good boy for me,” you teased, your own hands roving, exploring the contours of his slender chest and waist, sweeping back and forth; you hooked his partially corroded throat, carefully capturing Hancock between the crook of your palm, thumb trailing his Adam’s apple in a light caress. 

“Not sure you know what that does to me,” he purred, the ghoul at your mercy as you gyrated your hips, your own sex succinctly aligned as you massaged his erection through faded black slacks.  

“Are you so sure?” you asked, grinning into your kiss, one of Hancock’s hands sneaking along synthetic fibers for three fingers to stroke the underside of your jumper. He pushed up only slightly, cupping your mound; you felt it in your core, a subdued moan breathed straight into the ghoul’s mouth—Hancock was so turned on, it was a wonder he didn’t just nut right then and there.

“You teasin’ me, sunshine?” John panted, groping your breast, digits fingering stitchwork; you bit down on your bottom lip as you reached for the clasp at the front of your collar.

“Get this off me,” you instructed, fumbling with the pull of your zipper.

“Is that a request?” Hancock asked cheekily, though he did not expect an answer.

“An order,” you responded, feigning authority, Hancock doing as he was told, though there was a hint of a smile crawling up the side of his face. 

“Yes, ma’am,” the ghoul chortled wryly, watching as you shed your suit like a second skin. You ushered it past the arc of your shoulders, the slopes of your breasts, to the base of your hips, leaving yourself half naked and assailable; John was unable to help his amorous stare.

“You’re so beautiful,” he declared, moving to knead doughy flesh, mouth finding your throat; Hancock sucked the sweat off your flawless skin, his other hand working its way underneath what was left of your vault suit, two fingers dipping into your already soaked cunt. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, slipping in and out, thumb pushing itself between the folds of your labia to rub your throbbing bud. 

“Yes, let’s,” you returned, swirling your hips, riding Hancock’s thick fingers as you clumsily moved to untie the flag wrapped about his narrow waist. 

“Right here?” he asked, perplexed. Though not one to argue, being out in the open without cover was dangerous; he knew better than anyone the risks of the Wastes. 

“I want you,” you answered, as if that in and of itself was all he needed to hear. You knew there might be consequences, but at that moment, your hormones were the ones in charge, a sharp gasp escaping as John’s fingers curled against the anterior wall of your sex.

“I’m all yours, love, forever,” Hancock vowed, following your example. He hastily unbuckled his pants after releasing your tit with reluctance, pushing apart the flaps to withdraw his glaring hard on; precum was already seeping out the slit at its head. 

“Promise me,” you insisted, lifting up off your thighs—and Hancock’s fingers—to shimmy the rest of your suit down toward your knees. It might be a little awkward, but you were too desperate to care, taking up the ghoul’s girth in the breadth of your palm.

“Cross my heart and hope to—” 

“Don’t you dare,” you protested, shoving your tongue back into John’s mouth, guiding his cock inside you. You sank down onto your haunches, inch by delicious inch, his variegated shaft filling you full up.

Then, the ghoul went rigid. “But sunshine, what about—” 

“Shhh, that’s it,” you whispered, though Hancock hadn’t done anything to warrant a reprimand. It was your own descent that had you crooning, dipping forward to feel that delightful pressure snug against your walls. 

“Not sure you wanna end up like—”

“—I took one a few hours ago, remember?” The darling man was more concerned with your well-being than even you; you could physically feel the tension leaving his body, John relieved to know you had things under control.

“You do love me,” you stated breezily, flicking the tip of your tongue inside the helix of the ghoul’s ear; Hancock shuddered, both his hands returning to your hips, touch featherlight, prompting you to press your palms against the partition behind him to prop yourself up on either side of his head.

“Wouldn’t mind you turnin’ Ghoul,” he replied throatily, thinkin’ spending an eternity with you sounded like the best damn thing a guy could ask for. 

Hancock watched with bated breath as you rose up to enshroud him in your shadow, breasts level with his eyes. He groaned his appreciation, seizing your right nipple between puckered lips, John’s bony hips pushing up against the round of your ass. The ghoul sucked diligently, dull nails clawing gingerly into supple, human flesh, incapable of keeping a straight face.

“What was all that about not doubting each other?” John huskily reminded you, the point of his tongue flitting against your sensitive skin. He returned to suckling, as if a babe latched to nurse, the hand left idle finally slipping down your thigh. Hancock spread your lower lips apart with the underside of two fingers, a third taking its place atop your thrumming clit, engorged with blood. 

“Shut up,” you urged, wanting him to belay speaking for fear the moment might spoil, Hancock grunting in indignation before he bit down lightly on your nip. 

You gasped a broken breath, cunt rising to the head of his cock. You dropped back down; Hancock bottomed out, sequestered in the deepest part of you, snug as anything, the ghoul hypnotized by your pretty writhing. 

“Why don’t you make me.” Hancock intensified the patient revolutions of blotched fingers, dragging you down by compressing your cheeks with his thumb and index; you slumped your shoulders just enough, angling to meet his current height, tossing your arms about John’s neck to humor him with another passionate kiss.

“Done.” You rocked forward, feeling Hancock’s sizeable member immured to its base. Indecent sounds kept each other company, the squish of your conjoined loins combining with the wet, obscene spirals of your whorling tongues. It wouldn’t take much longer to climax, your slick cunt tightening its grip on John’s rock-hard cock. 

The ghoul’s chest heaved between ragged breaths, Hancock practicing his self-control. He didn’t want to cum until you did, sliding his palm up to carefully cradle the small protrusion distending your lower abdomen. 

Feeling the outline of himself inside you was nearly too much to handle, a visible tremor preceding what was to be an early warning.

“I-I can’t hold back, angel.”

“Wait,” you countered, guiding the ghoul’s head toward your breasts, driving his noseless face into your cleavage; Hancock’s tricorn shifted backward as he followed your lead. He vested himself in the cocoon of your limbs,  moaning his approval, grabbing onto a fistful of ass as your back arched in pleasure. 

You opened your eyes to gaze at the sky—it was pale blue and cloudless, for once.

You came hard, the flat of John’s palm supporting your spine as you released your ecstasy to the heavens, the ghoul’s tepid seed discharging in spurts to paint your inner walls white; his ejaculate had been offered as payment for your lovely little song.

The ghoul felt overwhelmed and full of deep affection for you; Hancock’s teeth bore down on beautiful, unblemished skin; he broke capillaries, drawing your blood to the surface, leaving his mark in the form of a dark red welt. 

You gasped at the bite, Hancock ensconcing you tightly in his arms, both of you allowing your orgasms to run their course. His grip was a comfortable vise, brittle nails burrowing into lithe flesh with almost paradoxical tenderness; John was always so careful with you.

From an outsider’s perspective, the embrace of a ghoul meant certain death, with the expectancy you would be rent into unrecognizable pieces. Such a pose as you presented now was questionable, one that evoked alarm from bystanders, settlers who had followed the beacon to their new home, expecting to find the general of the Minutemen, but not like this.

“Ghoul!” someone shouted; you heard the shuffling of leather, the clink of metal.

“No!” you yelled, protecting your lover with the entirety of your body, encapsulating his slight frame. You shielded his vitals with your bare back, hunkering down to speak to these newcomers over the peak of your shoulder. 

“He’s not feral!” you growled, hating that you had to defend him, knowing how John must feel at this moment as he gazed up at you with surprised, wide eyes. You cared not that a horde of people had seen you naked; you only cared for Hancock, determined to preserve him and all his parts.

In reality, the ghoul was seconds from tears, knowing—without a doubt—that you had meant what you said. You were guarding his wretched life with your own without question, willing to die to keep him from harm, just as he gladly would have sacrificed himself to see you live another day. 

A day, he thought, that might have been better off without him, but now he was glad to be alive (in some form or another), swallowing hard against the knot in his throat, eyes never once leaving your impassioned face.

“We’re together; we came here together, and we will leave here together, do I make myself clear?”

A person stepped forward, separating themselves from the crowd. “Yes, General,” they said, having fortunately, or rather unfortunately, recognized you.

With a sigh of relief, those gathered departed. John practically smothered you, so forceful was his hug that it nearly choked the air from your lungs. 

Hancock didn’t know what he’d done to get someone like you, and he was afraid to ask. If there were any powers at be—something, or someone—watching over him, he supposed he’d owe them one, but for now he was more than happy to count his blessings. And the sad thing was, everything, all of it, could be a dream—or one long, hallucinatory chem-trip. If this turned out to be nothing but a fucked up Jet flashback, he’d just as soon never wake up. 

“I’ll follow you to the end of the Wastes,” Hancock blurted, voice strained and rasping, fingers; arms; chest tightening as he spoke against soft tufts of hair. “You and me together, the world ain’t got a prayer.”

Despite what had just transpired, you cradled him against the bow of your neck, oblivious to the inner workings of his mind, only wishing to absorb him, for him to live in the space between your ribs that stored your heart. All you wanted was to keep him safe for all time, knowing that he deserved the world, though the ghoul would most certainly outlive you. 

It was a melancholy thought, if ever one existed, but you did not allow your mind to dwell. “Sweet man,” you murmured, “it doesn’t stand a chance in hell.”

—-

Fallout Masterlist

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

Gimme your most stupid ghoul headcanons possible, like Sodo is scared of idk dust particles or something funny.

“silly ghoul headcanons”

Synopsis: It’s in the title you silly goose. Just the ghouls with their silly little shenanigans

Pairing: Nameless ghouls (platonic or romantic) x GN!reader (they/them)

Theme: fluff ✿ , crack ✦

A/N: Heres my first fanfic to my Ghost blog! I gotta thank my bestie for making this request despite the silliness in it. I hope you guys enjoy it because I certainly had fun writing it. I might make a separate version for the ghoulettes cause I love my girlies <33

I also decided to add Aether in this one cuz I love him, remember to respect both him and Phantom as ppl because we don’t support that negativity and hate 🫡

TW: Swiss and Sodo joke about sex but it’s because they’re Swiss and Sodo

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Sodo, oh dear Sodo. He can be such a silly ghoul sometimes

He likes to act like he’s all tough and that he’s hot shit, but some of his habits you can’t help but laugh at

For starters, Sodo is the type of ghoul to be scared of really dumb stuff. Take hamsters for example

Sodo has this really inexplainable fear of hamsters. One day you picked up a cute little hamster from the pet store, and he hissed and erupted in flames the moment you brought it near him

“Sodo its just a hamster—“

“GET THAT THING’S FILTHY PAWS AWAY FROM ME.”

Aether once pranked him by putting a bunch of hamsters in his closet and he let out the most unmanly scream ever, it was funny

Oh and we all know Sodo has a habit of slapping people’s asses

It’s basically his trademark at this point

But there was this one particular time where he tried to slap your ass, but he somehow missed and accidentally slapped Copia’s ass instead

Needless to say, he spent a good while trying to explain to the unamused Papa that he didn’t mean to slap him, but the other pair of cheeks that was in front of him in that moment

He once played Five Nights At Freddy’s and he had nightmares about Freddy for a whole week

No joke, he once thought that Swiss was Freddy because he was so disoriented from a previous nightmare and he socked the poor guy in the nose

You forced him to apologize to Swiss after that

I imagine he’s also the type of ghoul to write stupid little messages and graffiti with a sharpie on his fellow ghouls faces

He once made you help him literally knock out Aether just so he could write “number one cocksucker” in big bold letters on his forehead

Needless to say, you two got chased around by the angry ghoul who was holding a fly swatter for a whole ten minutes

Also we all know damn well this man has a dirty mind

Like have you seen him on stage? Of course he does

He has a habit of slipping in sexual jokes and in innuendos every now and then, because he snickers when seeing people’s reactions

Though there was this one time where he made a comment about your ass and he got slapped across the face

Idk Sodo has a weird obsession with your ass

He has toned down on the jokes, but that doesn’t stop him from slipping up every now and then. And it’s quite obvious he won’t stop with those jokes anytime soon

Rain is such a sweetie and we all know that

But sometimes he can be a little bit of a menace, even to you and his fellow bandmates

To start things off, we all know Rain is a clumsy little guy

Like he’s a walking talking disaster with trails of chaos in his wake. He can hold a glass for someone and drop it like not even ten seconds later

Well there was this one time where you were giving him strumming techniques for the next upcoming ritual

Sodo tapped him on the shoulder from behind to ask him for something. When Rain turned around he accidentally slapped Sodo in the face with the neck of his bass guitar

Sodo then stumbled back in pain and literally destroyed Mountain’s drum set. You were just standing there processing what just happened, and Copia just looked… disappointed.

Rain also collects a lot of plushies

He has a literal pile of squishmallows in the corner of his room. Sometimes he likes to bury himself in that little nook of his room.

He made a little pillow fort in that area for him to snuggle in. Sometimes he’ll invite you to come and watch movies with him in there

However he once impulsively bought so many plushies so they were all flooding his room. You opened the door to his room and they all came flooding out, with a very euphoric Rain on top of them

“…. Rain what are you doing?”

“Feeling great. Thank you, Y/N.”

You helped him organize all of those little plushies in his room afterwards, even giving some of them to Phantom (who was new at the time) as a little “welcome home” gift

As a water ghoul, Rain naturally enjoys water

However he has this really cute habit of splashing around in pools/tubs like he’s a bird in a birdbath, but he gets embarrassed about this fact because the ghouls tease him for it

You once caught him playing around in the a storm in such a manner, it was so cute seeing him so happy and enjoying himself

The minute he spotted you, he immediately got all embarrassed and shy, but you reassured him it was all good and that it was fine to be excited about water

Needless to say, he’s a lot more comfortable showing off that side to you now

Oh Mountain. Sweet sweet darling Mountain

Like Rain, Mountain is a sweetie. However he tends to have his silly moments.

I’d like to imagine that Mountain often bumps his head on doorframes or walks

The fucker is really tall, I mean it’s hard to not hit something along the way.

So he has a habit of sticking his hand over his forehead to avoid bumping into anything, the poor guy

I’d also like to imagine that Mountain had that light skin stare

Like he doesn’t even mean to look creepy. He just… has a habit of zoning out, so therefore he looks like he’s staring into your soul

Though this does make him really good at staring contests. One time Swiss challenged him, and they lasted for ten minutes

Swiss needed eye drops after that

Also he deadass looks like a sleep paralysis demon when he stands

One night you couldn’t sleep so you went to the kitchen to get something to eat. Mountain happened to hear the noise your footsteps were making, so he went to check up on you

He was just standing in the doorframe… staring at you, making sure you were okay while you grabbed something from the fridge

Needless to say, when you turned around, you dropped Swiss’s leftover cheesecake you were gonna eat upon seeing the tall earth ghoul in the doorframe

Also your scream was loud as FUCK

“MOUNTAIN WHAT IN HELL— YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK! Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“… I don’t know. At least you’re okay.”

He apologized to you afterwards and promised to not accidentally spook you. Because for a moment you swore you saw the hat man

Mountain also rarely gets mad, the dude is as passive as a sheep

But the moment he gets angry… hide your children

The dude is scary as hell. Like, he’s even got Papa on his knees begging for mercy

There was one particular day during practices where Sodo and Aether were arguing a little too much. It’s normal for them to banter, but this particular day was getting out of hand

Everyone was already getting upset with them, even with Papa telling the two ghouls you knock it off, but of course they wouldn’t

Well, they didn’t until a drum from Mountain’s drum set came hurling towards both ghouls. Making the fire ghoul and quintessence ghoul yelp and duck instinctively

No one had noticed the fuming earth ghoul sitting in the corner up until that point. Everyone was speechless. Your jaw was on the floor even

Needless to say, Mountain apologized yet again, but now everyone knew not to fuck with Mountain after that

Swiss is an… interesting specimen.

For starters he was accidentally summoned,

He was summoned at the same time as Aether. And they bonked heads upon getting summoned

It was rather funny seeing Papa being so confused as to why the ritual spell summoned two ghouls, and seeing said two ghouls yell at each other for bonking heads

But it all worked out because after Swiss showed off that he can literally do fucking anything, Papa just let him stay

And Swiss was the perfect flare of spice to add to Ghost, and he’s a sweet ghoul to be around

But that doesn’t stop him from being a literal menace to society

Swiss has a really strange habit of breaking into people’s rooms and just jumping on their beds to wake them up

All while he’s obnoxiously telling them to get up, much to the other’s annoyance

You once threw him across the room for waking you up, and Swiss was just laughing so hard on the floor when he saw your reaction

Since he’s quite literally known as the Swiss Army Ghoul, he’s good at almost everything.

Including cooking. He likes to cook a lot of meals for the people living in the ministry

Bro even has a stereotypical pink “kiss the cook” apron, he got it as a birthday gift from you

But the “cook” part is crossed out with a red sharpie and instead Swiss replaced with “dick”

Why? Because it’s fucking Swiss.

He also made it a point to bake everyone’s birthday cakes, but he’ll slip in something stupid to be funny

One time Cirrus was cutting her birthday cake and she got a whole ass doll head in there, which left her very confused

Swiss isn’t allowed to make people’s birthday cakes anymore because of that

Also sometimes Swiss will get high out of nowhere

No one knows what the fuck he’s doing because this ghoul is all over the place, but when he’s high he says the most out of pocket stuff

There was this one time he messaged the ghoul group chat while taking an edible saying “this edible is weak as shit.”

But then right after that message, he attached a picture of you and sent it with the caption “I’ve always wanted to fuck them.”

You could hear Sodo’s laughter from his room after that.

And when Swiss got sobered up, you asked him about the message, but bro literally refuses to acknowledge he sent it

“Swiss did you send that message from earlier—“

“No.”

“Then who did?”

“The hat man.”

“THE WHAT MAN?!”

“Oh so this suddenly isn’t a safe space?”

Ah Aether. We all love Aether. I mean who doesn’t?

We all know how much of a little psycho Aether can be, but he’s a lovable psycho that just exerts a lot of fun energy

That doesn’t stop him from being a little fucker however

He likes to pull a lot of pranks with Swiss, Sodo unfortunately being his main target

So there was this one time he asked you to help him prank the poor fire ghoul, and you said yes because you felt like messing with Sodo

(And also partly because you were kinda pissed with him due to the fact that he ate your leftovers)

So the prank was to put a bunch of sticky notes in Sodo’s room that all read “big cock energy” (because of course it did)

However during the process of putting the sticky notes in the room, Sodo walked in on two idiotic fools, those fools being you and Aether of course

And it’s safe to say that for a solid twenty minutes, the two of you were running around the ministry with an angry flaming fire ghoul hot on your trail, giggling like little children

(Sodo spared you, but Aether wasn’t so lucky)

“SODO PLEASE SPARE ME— WHY SPARE Y/N?!?!!”

“Because I hate them less than you, NOW C’MERE—“

Aether once fell asleep with a rotten ass banana peel

Like no joke— you once walked in his room to ask for something and his whole room STANK of rancid and rotten banana

And Aether was just sitting there, confused as to why you looked like you were about to throw up on his bedroom floor

Rain had to fucking disinfect the room (with a gas mask because it smelled that bad)

Oh and you Rain breaks things? Aether is so much worse

He once tried to clean up Swiss’s mic stand for an upcoming tour and the damn thing just- fell apart

Swiss was more bewildered than upset, because how in hell does that happen?

You literally do not let him touch your equipment because he’s gonna somehow find a way to break it all

When Aether departed from Ghost you were very sad

But then he messaged the group chat with this message “I’ll miss all of you fuckers. Be nice to the new ghoul, love all of you <33 (except for you Sodo, fuck you)”

Sodo then bursted out of his room tackling Aether, but it was more so out of love rather than being an ass

Needless to say, you all still keep in touch with Aether

Phantom!!! We all love Phantom here

Since he was newer and the one of the more recently summoned ghouls, he had a hard time fitting in

But you and the other ghouls thankfully made him feel welcome, even if it took a little more time for some other ghouls to get used to him

And because of that, it didn’t take long for Phantom to start joking in the ghoul chaos

He is literally a walking meme

Phantom is the type of guy to quote old vines and also keep up with any meme trends

Part of being the youngest ghoul I guess

He often confuses Papa with his little antics (because he’s an old man), and you’re just silently laughing at Papa’s reactions to Phantom

Also Phantom has a habit of holding things weirdly

You thought it was just his guitar? Bestie no, the dude is holding things the wrong way all the time but still somehow makes it work

Like— he holds onto a pen like it’s about to grow a pair of legs and run out of his hand, but he still somehow has the most beautiful cursive handwriting there is

“…. Phantom— what are you doing? You’re holding that pen like it’s a—“

“Hush, Y/N. I’m writing everything I want for Christmas this year.”

Phantom can also be a bit of a nerd sometimes

Like— you know those kids in school that are so dorky and have that awkward teenager energy? But you can’t be annoyed at them because they’re so cute? Yeah, that’s Phantom

Man’s will ramble about the most nerdy thing so passionately that you can’t help but listen, it’s cute seeing him get all excited over… legos or something

Oh and if someone dares to insult his passion he will spread legos all over their room

(Poor Swiss was a victim of that unfortunately)

Oh yeah he almost once accidentally vacuumed Copia’s pet rat

The dude was just trying to clean up his room, and one of the little fuckers scurried in his room, and the rat’s tail got stuck in the vacuum

Phantom’s high pitched scream upon realization was enough to have you bolting in the room to check in on the poor ghoul

And you were met with the sight of Phantom desperately trying to pull out a screaming rat from the vacuum while the ghoul was on the verge of tears because he didn’t want to get scolded

You ended up helping him because no one wants to see Phantom sad

And it’s safe to say Copia now has one pet rat with no tail.

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[ghoulbrain]

hello! my name is amy. i'm a long time on-and-off fanfic writer new to fallout. i made this blog to cater to my newfound infatuation with the ghoul. i like mature and taboo themes with a throughline of toxic obsessive love. there has to be love (or something masquerading as it) for me to be invested, so while you can expect dark content, it generally comes packaged with an attempt at a happy to bittersweet ending.

currently i'm very interested in writing ghoul x lucy (vaultghoul) and ghoul x reader.

my asks are always open! i love sharing my headcanons and taking requests, but please remember that i'm under no obligation to answer every single one. this is a fun hobby for me and i'd like to keep it that way.

because of my own age and the type of stories/content i enjoy and create, i'd prefer not to engage with minors. thank you! 🖤

fanfic tag | headcanon tag

The Saddle Up Verse: a series of snap-shot fics. can be read as standalones, but were written with continuity in mind.

"Saddle up, sweetheart." - the ghoul x reader

Animal Instinct - the ghoul x reader

Happiness is a Warm Gun - the ghoul x reader

Standalone

The Cost of Flesh - the ghoul x reader

"Open your mouth." - the ghoul x reader

"Where'd you learn that? - the ghoul x lucy

(banner credit)

[gortashs-skidmark]

11/17/24 edit: temp mouthwashing blog :)

Master List <3 if it says "edited" it means i've looked for grammatical errors and color coded with warnings. !!!!MNDI +18 CONTENT, SMUT, NSFW, NOT SAFE FOR CHILDREN!!!! Unfinished, in the works: - !!He Who Was Headcanons!! NSFW - !!Astarion Headcanons!! NSFW - !!Beloved Tieflings Headcanons!! NSFW - !!Zevlor Headcanons!! NSFW - !!Gortash Headcanons!! NSFW

<3 <3 <3 Existing Fics: - Single Astarion Headcanon NSFW - Single Astarion Headcanon - Gortash x Durge Headcanons (edited) - Enver Gortash Headcanons (short) NSFW (edited) - Single Durge Headcanon - !!Kar'niss Headcanons!! NSFW

Enver Gortash x Reader SMUT 18+ MDNI NSFW (edited)

Enver Gortash x Reader Drabble SMUT 18+ MNDI NSFW (edited)

The Gate's Mouth - PARTS 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

Biggest fucking Lore Dump about Bhaalspawn's timeline

<3 <3 <3

Popular;

! Tiefling Canon Facts for writers and artists to spice things up! (edited)

! Single Astarion Headcanon

! BG3 Blurb Headcanon

! Zevlor whereabouts

Not fics or headcanons, but thoughts

<3 BG3 Act 3 thoughts + BG3 Raphael thought

<3 Wizard thought + Faerun Geography Lesson

<3 Gortash fic idea + link to voicelines

<3 Gortash drawing idea

<3 History that applies to Durgtash

<3 Orin Becoming Bhaal's Chosen , sarevok thought

<3 cute kar'niss fanfic idea

<3 Astarion convo

<3 Beyond Impressive (Gortash)

Other:

- The Tepid Bard: House of the Dragon X Modern!Reader 𝐐𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐯 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝

- Differences: Larys Strong X Reader (Quotev: ciggysn’milk) (Wattpad: sensorycarrot)

- The Gate’s Mouth: BG3 X Modern!Reader (Quotev: ciggysn’milk) (Wattpad: sensorycarrot)

- Moon: BG3 X Thorm!Reader (Quotev: ciggysn’milk) (Wattpad: sensorycarrot)

- Devils of Marley: AOT X Ghoul!Reader (Quotev: ciggysn’milk) (Wattpad: sensorycarrot)

- Absence: AOT X Modern!Reader (Quotev: ciggysn’milk) (Wattpad: sensorycarrot)

<3 <3 <3

Key:

Orange - Canon - it's written about in DND lore

Purple - Headcanon - made up, just for fictional fun.

"!! !!" - Headcanons, though, includes Canon history beforehand. ALL INCLUDE NSFW, eventually.

[you-know-honey]

The L rule

Part 1/2

Sodo/Dewdrop x f!reader

Summary: You know what they say about short boys...

Word Count: 1930

Note: bad english, the L rule is something that until now I have only heard in Latin America but if you are from other countries and have heard it, comment :).

"Yeah!" You squealed excitedly at your phone, you were in Aurora's room where a girls' night out and Swiss was taking place. Aurora had begged to be let in and well…no one can resist that smile too much and a blackmail of candys that Swiss had brought with him.

As a fun act in your pajamas, you had been logging into internet forums about yourselves, looking at fan edits, and overacting fanfic scenes, plus of course a LOT of Reddit gossip, and now you were trying to get into a group of theories about the band by idea of Swiss. You offered to take care of searching the forums, but the WiFi signal in the ministry is terrible, especially in the ghoul area, so you were lying on the ceiling of Aurora's closet, with the ceiling of the room at few centimeters from you, while the page loaded.

"I'm sorry Rain, I can't be with you" Cumulus posed as Sodo in a fanfic about him and Rain, the performance fell into ridiculousness and that was the funny thing "I am a fire demon, you are water, we are opposites, destined to never be together." He flopped onto the pillow fort.

"Love can do everything Sodo!" Cirrus responded with the same drama. They both read the lines from their cell phones. "Let me love you" Cirrus dramatized, dropping onto Cumulus in the fort and ending his excellent play amid laughter from everyone present.

"I almost cried," Swiss exaggerated while applauding as if he had seen the pinnacle of theater drama.

"Stay still!" Aurora scolded the ghoul and pulled her left hand back in, trying to finish polishing her nails.

The night was more than perfect, even though it was a 'girls' sleepover, the idea of the masks and manicure had been Swiss's idea, he had really committed herself to making sure everyone had a good time. They had eaten popcorn, pizza and done spicy food challenges, challenges that Cumulus had won.

"Girls, enter the forum" you said as you slide out of the prison between the closet and the ceiling, Swiss made space for you next to him as he waved his hands to dry the polish.

"Let's get this started!" Cirrus said, excited to hear the fans' crazy ideas.

They avoided all theories that had to do with Papa Tenzo since it was a nostalgic topic, it was funny how many tried to guess Montain's height, he had made edits about Swiss promoting toothpastes, or about Rain being a kawaii girl.

"Wait! See" Aurora pointed out on the screen.

Test Who is your Ghost Soulmate ¡Click Here!

Without asking permission Aurora clicked, they were stupid questions like: What is your favorite food? What is your favorite instrument? What is your favorite color? Favorite Ghost song? Etc.

The results were curious to say the least.

Cumulus result was Mountain and she seemed to blush a little as she sank into the pillows. Something that you guys didn't waste and joked about.

Cirrus was paired with herself, and in an exaggerated way she went for a hand mirror from among Aurora's makeup and kissed her reflection, definitely nothing better than being your own love of your life.

Aurora and Swiss's turns were fun, they both appeared as the love of each other's lives, they looked at each other and burst into laughter. Swiss put her arm around Aurora's shoulders. "Maybe in another life, dear" she said in a diva tone as she laughed and Aurora agreed.

When it was your turn everyone was curious, you completed the questions and waited a few seconds before the pixels showed an image of Sodo on the screen with a brief description of why he would be your soulmate:

'A wild boy who will get you out of any boredom✨, his hands work magic🔥, his name says it all.🥴 All good girls die for a bad boy like Sodo. You already know the L rule 😏'

You laughed nervously as you shook your head, there was no way the gremlin was your ideal soulmate "No, never that" you said between nervous laughs but the others only gave each other knowing looks, perhaps your insistence on denying everything ended up confirming it. “Come on guys, it’s just a silly test,” you tried to ignore him.

You and Sodo weren't very close, but on the part of the ghoul who always seemed to want to be away from you, you had even felt that being close to him drained his energy and you weren't really looking for that. So if Sodo was in the room you practically became part of the furniture and in the few times they had to interact you were always too stiff to be natural while you stammered vague responses or ran away from the room, leaving the ghoul somewhat bewildered. The group had interpreted those things as 'romantic advances' and if they were like that they would be the most pathetic romantic advances in the world.

"Stop guys, seriously, it's not funny. It's fake." It was actually funny, if you weren't the victim you would joke just like they do now.

"Of course it's funny, just look at you, if it weren't real, your cheeks wouldn't be as red as tomatoes" Cumulus took the opportunity to say.

"You blushed too!" You replied, you weren't expecting that attack from Cumulus.

"At least I can admit that Mountain is cute!" Cumulus said. Low blow for you.

You wouldn't deny that Sodo was cute, it was an opinion that you and millions of others shared, even in his demonic form, you had always thought that there was no way Sodo wouldn't look attractive. But he had to stay alone in your thoughts.

"One way or the other!" You raised your arms in a sign of peace. “Also, what the hell does the L rule mean?”

"I don't know" Aurora answered, looking at the others for answers but both Cumulus and Cirrus raised and dropped their shoulders.

"No idea girls" Cirrus said.

A small, almost imperceptible laugh escaped Swiss's lips and like owls they all turned towards him, smiling maliciously at each other.

"You know what it is, right Swiss?" Cumulus approached him with a tender puppy look.

"I won't tell them," he replied, but there was a small crack of weakness in his voice. If they pressed harder he would speak.

"But we invited you to our girls' night" Cirrus pouted and crossed her arms childishly, something very cute and she knew it.

"It's a boy thing" He responded, crossing his legs looking at the ceiling to avoid falling into the manipulative tenderness of the ghoulette.

"But you said you were one of us. We girls tell each other everything" you said in the sweetest tone you had, one that worked very well with Rain or Phantom. You leaned on her shoulder like a cat to be closer to her ear.

If an outsider saw the scene they would think it was some kind of satanic harem and not a group of girls trying to convince their dear friend to betray their gender and tell them the secret.

"If it's not the good way, it's the bad way." Aurora pretended to roll up the sleeves of her pajamas. "Girls, hold it down."

With evil smiles they all understood the plan, Cumulus and Cirrus held the legs and you held their wrists. Swiss writhed like a snake but it was impossible for him to get free.

"It's not okay! It's cheating!" he screamed as he tried to get away, laughter escaping him.

"Come on Y/N, you wouldn't do this to your good friend" he begged you with his cute smile.

"Sorry Swiss, curiosity first. Give it Aurora!" Swiss opened her mouth to say something but Aurora rushed over her stomach, beginning the torture.

Aurora's hands ran over the most sensitive areas of Swiss's body, causing him to tickle and laugh loudly and uncontrollably, as well as broken pleas for them to stop. The scene made the girls laugh.

"Confess!" You yelled at him between laughs.

"No," he replied. "It's a boy thing," Swiss gasped as he tried to take a breath, his chest rising and falling violently, tears beginning to escape from his eyes and roll down to his neck.

"We can do this all night!" Aurora hummed and she wasn't lying.

"I…" I gasp "Fuck it…Fine!" He gasped again but louder, "I will confess!" the tickling stopped abruptly letting him breathe properly after some endless minutes.

"Okay" Aurora stayed on him for a few seconds waiting for some sign of a lie but it wasn't like that. She raised her hands in peace and moved away from her stomach. You and the girls let it out too. Swiss wiped away his tears and took some time to get back to normal.

He stood up and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from Aurora's nightstand before sitting back down on the cushions and scribbling a few things down. She ended up showing them an L on the paper, next to the vertical line she had written the letter 'B' and under the small horizontal line the letter 'D'.

"Any idea?" Swiss asked and the four shook their heads, Swiss sighed.

"What does 'D' mean?" you asked innocently.

Swiss smiled mischievously "This" he pointed to his own crotch.

You looked at his crotch for a few seconds before understanding, the blood went to your cheeks at a fantastic speed and you covered your face embarrassed to let your gaze go to the area of Swiss's body and everyone's eyes widened in surprise when they understood. They didn't need to look to understand.

"So if I have the page vertically and the B refers to the boy and the D refers to his… 'little friend', it means that the taller the boy, the smaller his 'D' will be, do you understand?" I explain Swiss as if it were a university class.

"But Sodo isn't that tall, the rule doesn't make sense then" Cumulus was the least uncomfortable of all, Aurora had a nervous smile, you and Cirrus covered half of your faces with a cushion each, absolutely embarrassed.

''Quite the opposite, my dear Cirrus." Swiss turned the page horizontally and changed the place of the 'B' and the 'D'. "As you see, everything changes, now the boy is small so his 'D' will be bigger."

If it could still be possible, your cheeks took on an even redder color. The girls let out a group "Ohhhh…" as Swiss threw the piece of paper against the door.

"Happy with the answer?" Swiss asked, crossing his arms, proud of his explanation. "I hope this betrayal of my gender merits some reward." She looked at her nails with feigned disinterest, before Aurora handed her a handful of candy.

"I was expecting something funnier, but it's okay," you said as you looked out the window, hoping that your blush would stop and that no one would notice.

"Forget it, let's do something interesting now" Swiss said, returning to the fun of a sleepover.

Swiss had finished singing 'London Boy' by Taylor Swift and had even tied the sheet of Aurora's bed around her waist as an elegant dress. You regretted not being able to record that moment. Now it was your turn. You spun the little spinner on the screen of Swiss's phone, it spun for a few seconds and stopped on 'I Love It' by Icona Pop. Your eyes sparkled with excitement.

A long night of talented divas was coming.

I hope you like it, I plan to write some "short" stories to cover my obsession with the band while I continue writing the fanfic.

[klarex]

It's been a lot since I have written any fanfic, so I'm sorry for all the mistakes or if something is off. Just let me know😊

I love writing fics that fit gifs, okay? Get used to it!

Genre: fluff

Warnings: swearing, kneeling, kind of annoying reader, sleeping in a bus, ghouls bullying you and Sodo, angry and annoyed ghouls

Summary: Smoching Sodo can be really fun.

Paring: Sodo/Dewdrop Ghoul x guitar player! Ghoulette! reader

The stage is ours

Being a ghoul was amazing. You get your own place to stay in a church, and you play in an awesome band!

Now let's go back to reality...

I stole Swiss tambourine and shook it around everywhere. Everyone was getting annoyed with the sound that it made and told me to stop it, but I didn't. After a while, Swiss had enough and started chasing me.

- (Y/N)! GIVE. IT. THE FUCK. BACK!

He shouted after me and we ran around the kitchen island. I was laughing hard while Swiss's expression was getting more and more frustrated. I decided that I would turn around the corner to go to the other room and hide there, so I tried to do it.

I looked behind me to see if Swiss was still chasing me. When I turned around the corner, I bumped into someone. I pressed my chest against theirs. They pulled the tambourine away from my hands harshly.

- OW!

I looked up, frowning. I saw Sodo looking madly at me. I was still leaning on his chest. I quickly pulled away from him.

Sodo threw the tambourine to Swiss. He caught it and nodded his head, walking away. Sodo ignored me and started to walk away. I groaned and I followed him.

- Sodo! Sodo!

I nearly like jumped around him and he stopped, and looked at me with his eyebrows furrowed.

- What?

He asked, I stood on my tiptoes and pecked his lips. He covers his mouth with his hand like he was suprised and flustred at the same time (of course, it was an irony). He rolled his eyes and we laughed together as we went back to other ghouls.

••

I was a bit more time after that and it was now evening of the Ritual.

I took my guitar and quickly hopped on the stage. I walked near Aurora's stage. I leaned against it, and we waited for our time to blast. Papa looked at us and crossed his fingers, smiling. I took a deep breath before we started playing Kaiserion.

••

I danced a lot with Aurora on her stage, and we sang into the mic together. After a few songs, I jumped off the small stage and slowly went to Sodo. I pocked his back with my finger a few times, and he turned around to face me. We were still playing our guitars, and I leaned my face closer to his. His covered forehead lay down on mine. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then we pulled away and continued playing.

The song finished and Sodo went to his stage to do his "epic" annoying solo. Everyone on stage was sooo done with him. I groaned and leaned my head backwards in an irritated behaviour. I walked up to him and threw my pick at him. I cupped Sodo's face (or even mask) and smoched his lips.

The crowd started screaming, but I didn't mind it, they always do it when we do something different or hot on stage.

Sodo stopped playing his guitar and put his hands into the air like he was surrendering. I giggled and pulled away from him.

In this time, Papa started talking about everything and how happy he is that we are here. I took a few steps to back away from Sodo, and he put hand over his mouth like he did earlier today. I giggled again and walked to the edge of the stage to say "hello" to our fans. I sent them kisses and made hearts with my hands.

When Copia's talk was over, we started playing another song "Respite on the Spitalfields". We all know it's Sodo's song. So when his part was on, I looked at him. The lights perfectly shined at him, making it impossible for me to look away.

- "Oh.. Satan, he looks soooo hot..."

I thought and I started fanning myself with my hands. Then I fell on my knees for him. He looked at me and walked up in front of me, smirking. My head fell backwards, and we played for each other for a moment. His head tilted to get a better look at me. I smiled and he helped me get up. We played together, having a lot of fun.

••

When the ritual was over, we all took our things and packed them up on our bus and truck. We didn't have to ride for a long time, but we had to stay on our bus overnight. It was, of course Copia's idea, 'cause "someone" didn't want to stay in a hotel and pay for it. 🙄

The ride was quiet. Everyone was tired and most of us fell asleep, but not me. Soft music was playing from the bus speakers and I watched the views from outside my window. The seat next to me was empty, only my backpack was laying on it. My body was covered by a blanket with a pretty design. It was a gift from Cumulus. There was also a pillow under my head.

My eyelids were getting heavy and I closed my eyes. I opened them rapidly when I felt someone poking my shoulder. I looked around and saw Sodo nearly standing on the floor. He was really sleepy, and I could see that.

- C- Can I? Phantom spread out on my chair, and I don't have a place to sit...

He mumbled, pointing at a seat next to me and later at his earlier chair, with puppy and sleepy eyes. I quickly nodded and put my backpack on the floor between my feet. Sodo sat next to me. I lay my back against the bus window and took my blanket of off me.

- Sodo.. Lay down on my chest, okay?

I said softly and he nodded. He slowly put his back on my chest so he was laying in between my legs. I put my blanket over us both.

Sodo sighed when I gently put my hand in his hair and started playing with it. He closed his eyes, melting at my touch. I kissed his forehead when I saw him slowly falling asleep. After a while, I fell asleep too...

••

I woke up to Sodo's wriggles. I opened my eyes and saw that it started to get light outside. I saw a pretty sunrise.

I groaned, feeling the pain from sleeping wrong hitting me. Sodo quickly looked at me with worry and shame.

- Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up..

He said and smiled weakly. I smiled and I saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

- No, it's okey..

I said and slowly lifted myself up to a sitting position. I saw Sodo going to his seat next to Phantom.

- (Y/n)!!! How's your sleep been?!

Cirrus shouted and I jumped, surprised. She was looking at me with really happy Aurora next to her.

- My whole body hurts, but why are you asking..?

I asked suspiciously. Cirrus opened something on her phone and handed it to me. It had a photo of me and Sodo cuddling and sleeping together. I blushed deeply and handed the phone back to her. They laughed and pulled away from me.

I saw Phantom, Swiss, Rain, and Sodo talking. Rain and Swiss from above the chairs. Phantom nudged Sodo with his elbow and nodded his head in my direction, laughing. Sodo looked down, blushing, and I looked away, blushing.

- "They are not gonna let this go, are they?"

I thought and looked at the views outside a window...

masterlist

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Killjoys Never Die 13/15 - Silence

Chapter Summary: It seemed like your mission was over, but you refuse to believe in failiure and together with the Fabulous Killjoys you prove the impossible possible. (eventual) Pairing: Fun Ghoul x fem!Reader Chapter Word Count: 3 537 Series Warnings:  mentions of drugs; poor mental health; suicidal tendencies; insecurities; throwing up;  jealousy; slavery (?); experiments on living humans; mentions of eating disorder; graphic descriptions of: violence, injuries, torture, death A/N: This is my favourite chapter. Therefore: whatever happens, no matter how much you think you hate me: please read to the very end

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist

Recap: For years you had survived on your own, found your friends, broke into BLI to save Kobra but now that the door to his cell has swung open…

Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

Jet was the first one to move, taking a step behind Party. You could see him freeze and pull his mask off. Underneath he had grown pale, and he stumbled a few steps back against the wall behind him. He was shaking.

Fearing the worst, you and Fun also took a step forward, trying to get a glimpse past Party’s shoulders.

And there he was, Kobra. Still in the stupid, stupid yellow-black striped tank top and the black jeans. His jacket was missing, and so was the holster for his ray gun. His hair had been shaven, short, almost down to the skin. Blood was soaking the top, the jeans, was pooling on the floor, a mocking splash of colour in the white room.

You were too late.

You were too late.

How much too late?

Not much. The blood was not dried yet.

Your eyes stopped at Kobra’s face. Where his face was supposed to be.

They had shot him. Not in the chest. In the face. So often that it was unrecognisable anymore.

You thought you might faint. The only solid thing was the sleeve of Fun’s uniform you had bunched up in your fingers.

Taking his mask off as well, Party stepped into the room slowly, very slowly, right up to the body of his dead brother. Gently he ran a finger over his short hair, before he bent down and lifted him off the chair on which he had been sitting. For a moment you thought he wanted to carry him outside, but instead Party just sat down in the middle of the room, cradling the body, leaning his forehead against Kobra’s. Fresh blood soaked Party’s white BLI uniform. Red on white.

Like frozen you watched him. You wanted to cry, wanted to cry your eyes out, but you were too shocked. It felt wrong to watch Party slowly fall apart as he held the body of the one person who had been with him all his life, who had always supported him, the one person who Party had loved unconditionally. But you could not look away from how he brushed over Kobra’s hair, clung to him.

And then he screamed.

It was the worst sound you had ever heard. It made you blood freeze, and you knew that if you made it out of here alive, you would have nightmares of this sound for the rest of your life. Party screamed like his heart had just been ripped out, and a part of you guessed that would have been less painful. But love was so much worse than any physical pain, cut so, so much deeper than any knife.

You flinched as something suddenly something tucked on your mask, but it was just Fun, pulling it off for you, his own having been discarded, too, before he dropped his head to your shoulder. Quickly you wrapped your arms around him, placing your hand on the back of his head as you pulled him against you, letting his tears wet the fabric of your shirt. Jet was crying too, sitting against the wall opposite the door. But for you the tears just would not come. You knew that once they did, it would be a relief.

It was probably a bad idea, the worst idea, to just stand in a corridor of the evil company you tried to defeat and cry, but neither of you could move. Fun was clinging to you as if you were what kept him from drowning in pain, in memories, in trauma, in grief.

But you had to get out of there. How much longer until someone would come down this corridor?

Turning your head, you looked at Party again. He was still holding Kobra, crying uncontrollably.

That was when you noticed it.

One of Kobra’s arms had slipped away to the side, the tattoo of the spider on the inside of his right wrist clear on display in the bright light.

He had had this tattoo for as long as you could remember; the spider with the lightning on the back. It was the symbol of the Killjoys, since there were no spiders in Battery City. None at all. Nowhere. It was a well-known fact. Therefore the rebels of the early days had chosen the spider to represent them. You could find it anywhere really; spray painted on old motels in the Zones, carved in stones and tattooed on people like Kobra.

Carefully peeling Fun off of you, you walked over to Party. The small room smelled of blood, iron, making you want to gag. Up close the injury, where Kobra’s face had been, looked even worse than you had imagined. You quickly looked away, and instead took his wrist in your hands. His skin was still warm. He could not have been dead for more than an hour when you had found him.

“Fun, come here for a moment,” you asked, making him shake his head.

“Don’t wanna-” he shut himself up, growing even paler than he already was as he peeked into the room.

“What do you want,” Party asked between tears. “Leave us alone.”

“Fun! Move your ass over here now!”

Knowing that this was the wrong moment to pick a fight, Fun shuffled over to you. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, and red rimmed his lips where he had pressed them together the whole time to silence his whimpers.

“Take a look at that.”

“It’s the desert spider tattoo. What do you want?”

“How old is it?”

Fun was the one with the most tattoos, he was probably the one who knew the best how fast tattoos healed.

“He’s had it for years-”

“But how old is this here? It’s relatively new, wouldn’t you say?”

Fun sighed, clearly unhappy about his decision, but crouched down next to you. He reached out his hand but his fingers only hovered over the tattooed skin.

The moment he realised what you were implying he looked up at you, then to Party.

“This isn’t Kobra,” he breathed.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Party shouted at him, finally lifting his head. You had never seen someone as clearly and deeply in pain as him right now. It tore at your heart.

“This isn’t Kobra,” Fun repeated. “This tattoo is not much older than two days! Kobra’s had his for years! They dressed some poor dude up in Kobra’s clothes, tattooed him, and then shot his face to pulp so we had no choice but to assume it was Kobra. But it’s not!”

“Shut up,” Party pleaded, shaking his head. “Shut up. Please, shut up.”

But now Jet joined the conversation. He had not bothered getting up from the floor, just had crawled over to where you were all sitting around Kobra.

“That time Kobra cut himself with a broken bottle that a SCARECROW’d thrown at him,” he remembered. “It left a huge scar in his left hand. It should definitely still be visible.”

“It’s there,” Party shook his head. “The fucking scar’s right-”

Having taken the left hand of the body he was still cradling, he turned the palm up, and stopped. Smooth, even skin covered it, fine lines. No scar. Not even the remains of a scar.

The room fell silent.

“That’s not-”

“No.”

“Then he’s still out there.”

“He might still be alive.”

For a moment you all stared at the body Party was holding. Who was it? Who was the poor guy who had been killed in order to make you believe it was Kobra. And considering how soon before your arrival he had been killed… BLI had known you were coming.

“It might be a trap,” you suggested carefully.

“Do I look like I care,” Party asked, before carefully lifting the body out of his lap, and placing it on the floor gently.

“Do I,” you asked back.

“Then let’s go,” Jet decided.

“Control room,” Fun inquired, and you nodded.

You left your masks behind. Party was covered in so much blood, and since BLI already seemed to know you were coming, there was no use in pretending anymore.

Again the journey started down the halls, and you were surprised how calm Party was again all of a sudden, how he still remembered the way, even after all this stress.

The next time Party stopped in front of a door, it was a bit broader than the one to Kobra’s cell. The sign next to the door gave away the purpose of the room behind it: DRAC control.

“There will be people in there, so get ready,” Party warned, placing his hand on the door knob.

You all grabbed your guns, and quietly Party counted down from three. When he reached zero he pushed open the door and you stormed inside. Immediately voices got loud, but they were silenced just as quickly. Except for one.

“Don’t shoot, oh please, don’t shoot!”

The whimpering came from a corner, and Jet and Fun immediately stormed over, dragging a small man out from where he had tried hiding behind a cabinet. He was thin, with sparse, grey hair even though he was only in his late thirties, and watery blue eyes.

“Where is Kobra Kid,” Party hissed, pressing his gun to the man’s throat.

“I don’t know, I don’t know, please don’t hurt me!”

“I won’t if you find out for me!”

Party grabbed the poor man, and dragged him over to a console for the computer. Under different circumstances you might have pitied the guy, but not right now. You needed to find Kobra. Nothing else mattered.

While Party watched the man punch something into the keyboard, your eyes wandered over the walls of the room. Maps covered almost every inch. You stepped closer to a map of what had once been the United States of America, your eyes stopping at the mark that was printed over where New Jersey once had been.

“What’s that,” you asked, pointing at it.

The man did not dare turning to you until Party told him to. Slowly he glanced at what you had pointed at before turning back to the computer, continuing his search for Kobra’s location.

“That’s DEMA,” he answered, quietly with a thin voice.

“What do they do there?”

“If I tell you, they’ll kill me,” he whimpered.

“If you don’t I will,” you replied coldly.

“They experiment! They experiment! And develop and produce new technology. Like sensors. And masks!”

“Masks?”

“DRACOLOID masks! Like the infinity mask. Or the omega mask!”

“Infinity mask...” you trailed of. “The ones with the infinity symbol, the ones that can be put on dead people?”

“Yes, yes, those, exactly those,” the man babbled.

“What are omega masks?”

The man did not answer until Party pressed his gun to the side of his head.

“She asked: what are omega masks,” Party repeated.

“They’re the next generation,” the man cried out. “Can be put on anyone who hasn’t been dead for more than 72 hours!”

72 hours. Three days. The Zombie Masks – or infinity masks – worked only as long as they were put on in the first few hours after death. Three days was a long time. It meant in the future you’d have to burn dead bodies in order to keep BLI from bringing them back as DRACs.

“What else? What else do they do,” you asked.

“Nothing! They do nothing!”

“Oh, come on, don’t sell me for stupid. You wouldn’t name these masks after the last letter of the Greek alphabet for nothing,” you snarled, stalking over to the terrified man.

By now Fun had taken over searching the computer. His eyes flickered over the screen, and his fingers flew over the keyboard.

“They- they destroy the DRACOLOID’s brain,” the man stuttered out, shrinking under your gaze. “The problem that the subjects were alive underneath the infinity mask got fixed. Within hours of going under, the masks destroy the brain entirely; erasing the personality, memories, everything, and the mask takes over completely.”

“Brain-eating Zombie Masks,” Jet concluded, a reference the man did not seem to understand, but he nodded anyway.

“So to say, yes, so to say.”

“And these masks are developed in DEMA?”

“Yes, in DEMA, yes! And produced there too!”

“Do you already use them here,” Party asked. When he got no reply he shouted: “Do you already use them?”

“Only for experiments, only experiments!”

You exchanged quick glances with Jet and Party. If they put Kobra under one of those…

“Got him,” Fun suddenly announced. “Lab 745.”

“I don’t know where that is,” Party realised, looking at you as if he were searching for help, as if you knew what to do next.

“I do,” Jet interrupted. “Let’s go.”

Fun had just stepped away from the computer, when suddenly the man leapt forward in a burst of false heroism. Before any of you could react, he had pressed a button on the computer.

“Omega the Kobra! Omega-”

He was cut short by the blast from your ray gun, but it was too late. His voice echoed out over speakers in the hallways.

“Fuck. Let’s hurry,” Fun decided, and you all followed Jet out the door, running this time.

Once more you stormed down corridor after corridor. They all looked the same, and still, you were certain you had already been here. Then you recognised the door to the stairwell you had come up, and a few doors further Jet stopped.

“Here,” he pointed at the door. You had walked past here before, you realised. You had already walked past Kobra.

Again Fun fell to his knees, wanting to pick the lock, but Party shook his head, and pushed him aside.

“No time,” he declared, pulling his blaster, and with three shots to the lock it fell out of the door.

This time you were the first one to storm into the room. It took you a moment to orientate yourself. It was dark, the only light that fell into the room came from a huge window on the left hand side. Behind the window was a second room. Tiled, with a drain in the centre of the floor. Just as Jet, Fun and Party had described the torture rooms. And there, in the right in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, sat Kobra.

His fear widened eyes met yours only for a split second past the glass of the window, his mouth opening as if to call for you. But then two SCARECROWs besides him pulled a DRAC Mask over his head, and he went slack. It was no normal DRAC Mask though. It was purple, and on the forehead, where the Zombie Masks had the infinity symbol, this one had a white, capital Omega.

“No,” you gasped, just as the others followed you into the room, and immediately you all pointed your guns at the SCARECROWs behind the glass, firing.

They went down before even a scream could leave their lips, or the glass of the window had completely splintered. You stormed into the tiled room just as the second body hit the floor.

Frantically you grabbed the purple fabric of the mask. It stunk of dead animal, and was just as oily as all the other masks you had touched so far.

“Wait!” Suddenly Party’s hand closed around your wrist. “What if it’ll kill him?”

“You heard the other guy! If we don’t take it off, it’s melt his brain away,” you cried.

For a moment Party looked at you, then at the motionless, in BLI-white dressed body in front of him. You could tell the exact moment he made the decision to trust you with this. Like for Jet and Fun before, you were Kobra’s only hope now. He entrusted you with the most precious thing he had: his brother’s life.

Slowly he let go of you.

With all the force you could muster, knowing every single moment wasted was moving Kobra closer to complete extinction, you pulled at the mask. Adrenaline seemed to have given you extra strength, because the mask came off with a jolt, making you tumble backwards to the ground. You landed hard on your behind, your hands barely lessening the impact, as you landed in the broken glass.

Immediately Party was at Kobra’s side, cradling his face in his hands.

“Kobra, Kobra it’s me,” he whispered, running his still blood smeared fingers over his brother’s cheeks.

But Kobra did not move.

You waited, staring at him, sitting on your butt in the splinters of the glass window. Jet stood in the door, Fun halfway between Party and Jet. All of you waited, held your breath.

Again there was silence. Just like when Party had opened that first door. But this time it was worse. So much worse. So infinitely worse. Because you had seen him, had seen Kobra’s face, the fear in his eyes, the way he had opened his mouth to scream for you, and you had not been fast enough. If you had been just a split second faster…

Party sat down next to the chair Kobra was chained to. Kobra’s head hung limply to his chest, and Party placed his own in Kobra’s lap.

“Go,” he told you. “Get out of here. I’m staying with him.”

Nothing he could have said could have been worse than this.

“No,” you shook your head. “No. We all agreed nobody gets left behind.”

Slowly you sat up more where you had been landing in the shards of glass. Your hands were littered in small cuts, dripping blood to the pristine white floor.

“It’s okay. Just leave us,” Party shook his head.

He had given up. The ultimate death sentence in the Zones. You could not help but feel the same. You, too, refused to leave Kobra here. What had you promised each other in the sewers? You would stick with Party the whole way, to the very end, no matter what, no matter the outcome.

Another few minutes passed as you just sat there, looking at Party and Kobra. In the back of your mind you wondered where the DRACs were, and the SCARECROWs, why they were not coming for you. Did it really matter?

This time neither of you still had the strength to cry. You just sat there, and watched as Party refused to get up and leave his brother behind. A glance at Jet and Fun gave away that they shared your sentiment, and the bizarre feeling of relief tucked at your heart. So you were not alone. You would all go down together.

The silence that engulfed you was absolute. No air conditioning, no humming lights, no machines that buzzed.

Just silence.

Kobra looked awful, you noticed. He had lost weight, lots of weight, far more than would have been healthy. Anger tucked at your heart. Not only had they tortured him for years, they had barely kept him alive while at it. Probably feeding him only enough that he did not starve to death. Now his cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken in, his skin grey.

The only colour on him were nasty bruises on one of his cheekbones, looking as if someone had punched him in the face. He had struggled. Even after years of this hell he had still struggled enough for them to punch him in the face. Why had he not given up yet? Had he hoped you would come for him?

The bruises were green and blue, with hints of purple and yellow. His hair was the same brown as his brother’s, the once bleached strands long having grown out, and his hair having been cut shorter. It was not quite as short as his doppelgänger’s, having probably grown out since the last time BLI had cut it.

You wanted to get up, wanted to run your hands through the strands before his body grew cold; a last comfort, both for him and yourself. Maybe his soul might still feel it, might feel the pain you were in, might understand how hard you had fought to reach him, to get him back, and how utterly useless the world felt now, that you had failed him.

You had failed him. All these years, in which you had been running around in the desert, you could have been looking for him, for the others. All the nights you had spent comforting yourself with dreams of Fun, you could have made plans on how to free your friends. All the evenings you had tried forgetting the world around you, just cuddling into Fun, you could have worked. You should have worked harder, but now you had failed him. It would have felt wrong to dirty his body with the very hands that had failed him.

So you let the silence swallow you up, let the pain take over, let it paralyse you so no tear and no sob escaped you. Silence was the only thing that felt appropriate now, silence was the only thing you could ever stand to hear again.

But it was broken by a very quiet, very weak voice.

“I always knew you’d come for me.”

Next Chapter - The Kobra King

(I was looking forward to finally using this mood board)

Taglist:

@alexstyx​​​​​ @jayloverthe3rd​​​​​ @robinruns​​​​​ @lookalivefrosty​​​​ @butterflycore​​​​  @omgsuperstarg​​​​​ @fivelegance​​​​​ @deadlovers​​​​ @casmustdiee​​​​  @moisheee​​​​ @layla2-49​​​​ @thewordworrier​​​​ @prty-poisxn​​​​ @cmtryghoul​​​​ @ren-ni​​​​  @heartsfromdoll​​​​  @phantomluck​​​​   

[fruityfics]

~Blog Introduction~

Hi, I’m Felix (he/him) and this is my gayass fanfic blog🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

Im mainly known on here for my other blogs: felix-floyd, lucifers-slutty-waist, bulletsforyourtrain, and geefrankieroway.

I’m a 20 year old trans man who loves reading fanfics, but hate that all the male ones are x fem!reader, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. So I’m dedicating this blog to writing fanfics that are x male!reader, x transmasc!reader, x male!oc, male character x male character, etc.

I can do SFW or NSFW

And I am planning on taking requests eventually!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

People/characters I plan on writing for:

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss:

~ Lucifer

~ Alastor

~ Vox

~ Angel Dust

~ Husk

Game Grumps/NSP:

~ Dan Avidan

~ Danny Sexbang

~ Alex Taylor

~ Arin Hansen

~ Ryland Tate

~ Ninja Brian

~ Ryan Magee

~ TWRP members

My Chemical Romance:

~ Gerard Way

~ Frank Iero

~ Mikey Way

~ Ray Toro

~ Party Poison

~ Fun Ghoul

~ Kobra Kid

~ Jet Star

Bullet Train:

~ Tangerine

~ Ladybug

~ Lemon

Umbrella Academy:

~ Klaus

~ Five

~ Diego

~ Viktor

~ Hazel

Other:

- Markiplier

~ Jeremy Jordan

~ Jack Kelly

~ Luigi (Mario movie version💚)

~ Bowser (also Mario movie)

~ Deadpool

- Beetlejuice

- Link

- Revali

~ Dylan Fuentes (Deadrising 3, look him up I love him)

~ And more if I feel like it🙃

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course, a lot of these would be upon request and I could do more in those fandoms if requested, or even other fandoms if I know them. I wanna do a little bit of everything so everyone has a place to go for good mlm fanfics and not be triggered reading she/her pronouns when reading x readers <3 <3 <3

Stay tuned for the fics!

[sinon36]

Echoes of Salvation: The Deal (Part I). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader  (Zombie AU)

Part II

The story starts after the dash.

Warnings: some gore, some mistakes, some bad writing (eh… we all have to start somewhere), not proof read, some independent woman surviving on her own without the need of help from men (cause I like self reliant women and people in general, they are a great inspiration to us all, really).

Disclaimer:

Dear readers,

Please be kind. This is my first fanfiction ever that I wrote and posted, so please be kind and overlook any potential inaccuracies, mistakes, grammatical errors as I’m not a professional writer and also English isn’t my native tongue. Though I have studied British English I am sure I haven’t really managed to accurately portray the British way of speaking, so please, feel free to point out anything that might poke you in the eye while reading this.

Also, I would like to tell you that this fan-fic is the love child of my obsession with our favourite masked man Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, and my love for anything zombie apocalypse or world-ending alternate universe or actual universe. Tbh If I wasn’t a poor student I would probably be a prepper, just like Frank from HBO’s TLoU. Most likely will be. I’m a little weird like that, you’ll see more in the future.

To close this little rant, I hope you’ll enjoy it, even if it’s short, I would really like to continue this if you deem it worth it enough. This will probably be a slow-burn kind of romance: 1. because I’m a sucker for the kind of slow-burn strangers/enemies to lovers fanfics, and 2. because it’s more realistic, let’s calm the whore-y instincts and be reasonable people that don’t climb masked 6-feet-tall strangers like trees.

With everything said I do not own the Call of Duty character Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (*whispers*Though I wish I did*) BUT I do own this piece of fanfic. Please don’t steal it. Repost it but please do give credit to other people’s work. You may notice some similarities to other fanfics, cause duh, I also read a lot of that, (isn’t that one of the incipient stages to becoming a fanfic writer?), but I would really like to give a shout out to the fanfic author that really inspired me to put fingers to keyboard and a fanfic into Tumblr, please, *drum rolls* a round of applause for @nsharks with her lovely fanfic ‘Bleeding Blue’. She’s really wonderful and you should really check her out.

Have fun reading and don’t forget to leave a comment or a heart. I wouldn’t mind suggestions of what to name Simons’ daughter. That would really make my day 😊

P.S. Sorry to all the fishing loving people out there, what I said was based on my impression of the fishing experience and should be taken with a grain of salt.

            Yours truly <3

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.                     

-

The sky is cloudy above but some sunbeams break through to warm the crisp air this fine early spring morning. It’s a good time for fishing now that the water is warmer, they come closer to the bank in search of food. It’s a boring task after you arrange all your tools and launch the line in the water. It’s a game of waiting and watching for any small tugs or movement of the neon-coloured fishing line. You picked up fishing after a couple of months into moving here, when everything was a mess and so many repairs and renovations had to be made around the house. The guy from the tutorials you used to watch on YouTube talked about the calmness and relaxation fishing brought to him. Maybe you weren’t cut out to stand all day on shore and gawk like an idiot for hours at the thin plastic line submerged in the lake water. But you cannot deny the proud feeling catching a fish brought to you when the line finally went taught.

You try and ward off the boredom and instead try to focus on the warmth that spring brings after months of endless cold. The birds are singing in trees, preparing nests for future offspring, and the lake is calm, with bubbles on the surface indicating the abundance of fish. Life is good. Bellamy enjoys sunbathing next to you rolling in a patch of grass. Everything is peaceful. Nothing really happens here anyway. You close your eyes basking in the good feeling that overtakes you.

A branch snapping behind you wakes you from the meditation you have fallen into. You raise and turn from where you are crouched over your equipment. You come face to face with a strange figure.         

‘Show me yer hands’ he tells you in a thick British accent, eyes focused on you and handgun aimed at your chest. He wears all black and a haunting white skull mask. He is tall, at least 6 feet tall, body poised to kill. In his other arm, you can see a little girl hugging his neck.

You slowly raise your hands. At your foot, Bellamy growls baring her teeth at the stranger sensing danger. You shush her grabbing her by the caller to keep her from attacking the armed man. You stand still watching in apprehension as the man studies you. You look at the ground where you left your backpack and your hatchet.

‘Don’t even think about it’ comes the gruff order. You nod trying to convey that you understand the situation. ‘There’s nothing in that bag worth a bullet’ you tell him in an even tone despite fear creeping down your spine. He hums in agreement. ‘And if you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it by now.’ He watches you like a hawk its prey. ‘So…’ you pause carefully measuring your words, ‘what it is that you want from me?’ he gestures you to take a few steps back and you drag Bellamy by her collar.

He kicks at the backpack spilling the contents. A bottle of water and a half-eaten sandwich, a hunting knife, and a rectangular box in which you keep the hooks, lures, fishing lines, and other small fishing equipment. He turns his gaze back at you and nods toward your dog. ‘Put a muzzle on it or I’ll shoot it’. your blood runs cold at the thought of losing your sole companion. You scramble to untie the scarf you keep tied around your wrist that you use to wipe away sweat from your forehead. You wrap the piece of cloth around the dog’s snout tight enough to not slip away. Next, the dark-clad man tells you to pack your fishing gear and collect your backpack, with one hand keeping it outstretched to the side and the other one grabbing at Bellamy’s collar guiding her forward. ‘Move. Eyes forward. Any sudden moves and I drop you.’

He walks a couple paces behind you. For how big he is you can barely hear him walk on the path. You can feel his gaze burning in the back of your head and the gun pointed at your back. As you start down the path you can make out the roof of your small house. Once you get at the gate you stop. ‘open it’ he instructs. ‘The key is in my right pocket’ you say slowly gesturing to said pocket. ‘Mhm,’ you hear him grunt. You slowly release Bellamy and fish for the key in your jacket’s pocket. You slowly take it out and put it in the keyhole turning it and opening the gate.

The familiar sight of your front garden does nothing to appease you in this situation. Bushes full of colourful flowers hug the narrow path toward the house. The wind catcher hung above your porch clinks melodically as a gust of warm wind catches on it. you take a few more steps on the stone path before you and you hear the gate closing behind you. What once was your safe space now traps you in with a stranger ready to shoot you or worse.

‘Tie the dog to that pole’ he orders you again. On your right, there is a small pole stuck in the ground. He throws a roll of paracord next to you. You don’t move at first. You had never tied Bellamy down before. You can’t even remember when you last put a leash on her. She likes to roam free and run around. The click of the gun behind you tells you that you have no choice. You drop the backpack and start to drag her to the pole. She tries to resist but you shush her and urge her to move. Once you finish tying her you turn towards the stranger. He nods towards the house and you start walking hands raised on either side of your head. Once you open the door he urges you inside.

‘Where do you keep the medicine?’ he grumbles urgently. ’Bathroom.’ you nod to the right of your living room. ‘Go get it!’ you don’t wait around you spring toward the white door. After a couple of minutes grabbing most of what you keep in the over-sink cabinet you emerge hands filled with gauze of all sizes and different bottled pills. You return to find the man placing the girl on the couch. She appears to be asleep. You almost forgot about her. She looks about 8-years-old. Brown hair is chopped short in a pixie cut. She’s wearing blue-washed jeans and a dark green hoodie that’s too big on her.

You watch as he peels the hoodie from her limp body. Underneath she wears a striped t-shirt, but what catches your attention is her left upper arm. Red stained gauze is wrapped around. You are still in your approach keeping a safe distance. ‘Was she bit?’ the words rush out in apprehension. From where he kneels next to her his eyes snap at you. ‘No’ he denies the implication of your words. ‘Put that on the table and go sit by the door’ You do as you're told eyes darting between the girl and the man. You drop everything on the coffee table and go sit by the entrance door hugging your knees. You watch as he works on bandaging the kid. Your eyes are glued to the girl’s arm.

Even though you lived so far out into the wilderness you saw pictures on the internet of bites from the infected. You read the posts of the survivors and heard the news broadcast on all channels. Then everything went quiet. The cable didn’t work and your phone had no signal. You knew shit hit the fan and that it was serious. Then, a few weeks later you saw your closest neighbour, Neil, an elderly farmer who lived about half a mile further up the river’s bank, growling and stumbling trying to catch Bellamy who was running scared towards you. You tried to talk him out of the trance-like state but to no avail. He kept stalking towards you, ready to take a bite out of you. You tried to tell him to keep his distance and warned him that you would protect yourself. The rest was a blur. You faintly remember grabbing the hatchet that you used to cut down logs for your stove. And then the struggle with the man, Bellamy barking, you crying out pleas for him to stop. In the cacophony of noises, you hit him with the blade right in the neck. The next thing you knew, your neighbour lay in a pool of dark blood hatchet still. It took you a while to register what you have done. You just killed a man. You couldn’t forget the way he lay there, on the gravel, hands stretched outwards bloodshot eyes staring emptily at the sky. That was the first time you encountered an infected. You distinctly remember the fear and adrenaline that took hold of you. The feelings that gripped your heart so tight and that made you take a life take over you as you watch the little girl, possibly infected, unconscious but on her way to the same madness that turned Neil into a savage monster all those years ago.                                                 

'She's feverish. You got meds or something to bring the fever down?' his question brings down from your rising panic at the thought of being stuck inside with a possible infected. ‘There should be some anti-inflammatory pills and some antibiotics. They are out of date but they could still work.' He grabs hold of the med kit you brought. He sorts through the drugs checking the expiration dates. When he comes across the antibiotics, he studies the pack carefully, his eyes darting back and forth from the label to the girl. 'How much can I give her?' he asks with a hint of concern his stern facade crumbling slightly.

You look at him unsure what to say. Those pills have been bought before the start of the outbreak. You doubt expired drugs have any effect anymore. You refrain from saying that though. He is stressed, he might take his anger on you. ‘She’s a kid, you mumble, so, about half of each.’ He carefully considers his next action. ‘She’ll need water to take them, you add from down the floor. And some food…’ He nods in understanding. ‘May I?’ you don’t know why you offer this stranger help. First, he disturbs you from catching dinner, next, he threatens to kill you and your dog, now he takes over your house and medicine. But you can recognize the desperation in his look, the way he fumbles with the packaging. He is a parent trying to save his kid. Even though you don’t have any of your own you recognize the parental instincts, the same ones you exert on Bellamy.

He looks at you unsure of what to do. He surrenders in defeat and nods at you to go on. You rise to your full height, which doesn’t add up to much compared to him. You walk past them all the way to the back of the living room where you disappear behind a white door. After a couple minutes, you reemerge from the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of steaming vegetable soup you made this morning. You slowly approach the couch watching him for any sign that you might cross a line. Instead of any aggression he takes a step back and allows you to go closer to the girl. You place the bowl and the glass on the coffee table and kneel next to the couch.

The girl opens her eyes and looks at you with distrust. Like father like daughter… you think to yourself. But you try to smile at her try to reassure her. ‘I brought you some soup, love’ you say in your most sincere and kind voice. ‘You must eat a little and then take some pills that will make you feel better’. You try to persuade her. She stares at you for a minute then at the man. They are suspicious of you and they have all the reason to be. You are a stranger to them as much as they are to you. Funny you are in the position to try and win their trust in your own home. You take the spoon you brought for her and dip it in the bowl. You take a spoonful and hover it close to your face blowing a little over it and then you swallow it. You can’t help the little moan of appreciation for your own cooking skills. ‘See? It’s good.’ You look at her with a small smile.

You don’t know where this came from; you blame it on the 6-foot-tall armored stranger whose stare drives daggers at the back of your head and your desire to keep your head on your shoulders and all your blood in your body. You don’t outright hate kids but you were never good around them. With a sigh, she sits upright and takes the spoon from you. She eats slowly. You keep watching her. She is a pretty kid. She has blue eyes and freckles on her small button nose. You wonder if she looks anything like the man behind you. She is pale and sweat collects on her little forehead most likely from her fever. She eats half of the soup you brought her and then turns her gaze towards the man. He hands her the two halves of the pills. She takes them in her small hand and grabs the glass. She hesitates. ‘It’s okay’ you reassure her and with a nod, she puts the half tablets on her tongue following up with large gulps from the glass. She scrunches her little nose in disgust at the chalky taste. ‘Atta girl’ you hear him utter from behind you. ‘Now lay down and rest.' he says to the girl in a stern yet gentle voice. He watches her nod and lie back on the couch her eyes half-lidded. He sighs, 'Good for now. ' he mutters under his breath. His eyes are fixed on her as he gestures to you. 'Come with me.' You rise from the floor and follow him outside the front door.

He leads you outside. When you cross the threshold, he takes a deep breath and a look of relief washes over his stern features. He gestures for you to sit on the front porch with him. 'We need to talk...' 'Yeah' you say crossing your arms defensively over your chest and standing as far away as the length of your porch allows. you take a moment to study him as he fixes you with a cold stare. You notice the many pockets on his vest and belt. A patch on his chest reads S.A.S. He's ex-military, you muse. His uniform makes much more sense now. But the mask still unnerves you.

He leans against one of the wooden porch support beams right hand hovering on the pistol holster. You think it's an act to intimidate you, to remind you that he is still armed and ready to strike you down in your own home.  You stare at him a little defiantly. You’ll be damned before you let this weirdo intimidate you on your turf. He studies you from head to boots and back up. You sigh and square your shoulders showing him you are not afraid of him. ‘I’ve been watching you.’ He tells you in a matter-of-fact tone. You try to suppress the surprise on your face. You look down at his boots avoiding his icy gaze.

He’s been stalking you, and the realization dawns on you. You didn’t even notice his presence around the house. Stupid, you think to yourself, I’m growing complacent. But not even Bellamy caught his smell and she usually barks when someone or something comes close to the house. But earlier at the lake, he took you both by surprise. He’s good at keeping his presence concealed, you have to give it to him. You nod to yourself in understanding. He probably knows the layout of your house by now, he knows you are alone, and he waited for you to be outside and ambush you. You start imagining all the horrible things he could have done to you. But no, he instead approached you, gun pointed at you, nevertheless, when he could have already killed you and taken over your house by now. You hum and make eye contact with him.

‘Why keep me alive then?’ you ask him without beating around the bush. You study his mannerisms trying to catch something, anything to prove you he’s human. But he’s as unreadable as a statue. His gaze remains fixed on you, unblinking and stoic. You feel him studying you, taking in every detail of your person. He seems intent on reading into your every move.

In an even tone, he answers, 'Because you’re not a threat.’ His response catches you off guard, ego a little bruised at that, but you can’t argue with his logic. If he wanted to, he could have killed you by now, that’s for sure. You remain silent for a moment, processing his response. ‘But that doesn’t mean I trust you.’ He adds kicking off the beam and taking a step closer to you. He looks down at you tilting his head a little like a bird of prey watching a mouse, waiting for it to give chase and make the hunt more fun. You don’t give in to the urge to run inside and hide in your bedroom. Instead, you take a step towards him and look up at him ‘Because you need me’ you speak quietly. You can imagine a raised brow under that mask. You smile in triumph; even though he acts tough he needs help and all the intimidating façade was in a desperate attempt to get it.

‘I get it’ you continue having him figured out. ‘Your kid is sick and out there dangers are lurking at every turn. You need a place to stay until she gets better.’ You finish voicing your theory on why he’s really here having this conversation with you. His eyes closed in defeat. Gotcha, you smile even more widely at your deduction. ‘You can stay, you say as you turn and walk down the three steps of your porch heading towards the gate. ‘On one condition, you add stopping in your track. You turn fully towards him and he watches you curiously as if you’d have any power to demand him anything. ‘No harm comes to me or my dog’ you say remembering his earlier threats of him offing you both. ‘Do we have a deal?’ it’s not unreasonable, though it irks you that you have to bargain for your safety with a stranger. ‘Deal.’ He says in his usual gruff voice nodding to you in sign of respect for your demand.

‘Good’ you say as you stalk off towards where Bellamy lays muzzled and tied like a prisoner of war. You free her and she jumps at you happy to be in your proximity. She must have been worried sick here all alone. Poor thing. You then go to the gate and slide the too-large bolts meant to keep any unwanted guests outside. Or inside in your case. ‘And to think nothing interesting ever happens around her, right, Bell?’ your rhetorical question is met with a bark of agreement.

[kyleoreillylover]

Ryan Bergara x Fem!Reader Headcanons

Summary: What’s it like being best friends with Ryan Bergara?

A/N: In my Ryan mood and I can’t resist not writing him anymore! I barely see any Ryan x reader fanfics so I had to write one myself!

If you were not already a Boogara, he would absolutely do anything to try and convince you to become one.

Sends you videos and calls you at 3 am to share “evidence” that he had.

“Ryan, I am trying to sleep!”

“I’m sorry, I just needed to show this to you before I forgot to!”

You forward the videos to Shane and he always responds either with a “😂” emoji or just full on making fun of Ryan.

It is funny either way.

Shane is your shared best friend.

He likes to tease you and Ryan.

But he loves when you gang up on Ryan with him.

And you both tease him.

Ryan acts like he hates it but he secretly loves that both his best friends get along and are besties 🥹🥹

Shane sees you like an annoying loving sister.

Ryan is definitely the more protective out of the two of you.

You are super chill, and one thing everyone can agree on is that you are one of the sweetest people ever.

But it does lead to you letting people walking over you sometimes.

But you have Ryan!! And he does not let that happen. He doesn’t hesitate to step in and check a bitch if he sees you uncomfortable.

He hates seeing the people he cares about being hurt or treated like crap.

When you are with Ryan you both feed into each other’s recklessness. You might be calm and chill, but when you are with him, it is like all your fears go away and you can let go of responsibilities and common sense!

It also helps that you trust each other with your life, so you know the other would never lead you to getting hurt.

It does lead into both of you doing stupid shit, though that Shane makes fun of you for.

One time you convinced him to do the handcuffed for 24 hour’s challenge for a video, and you both lost the key within an hour 😭

You are also the scriptwriter for Buzzfeed Unsolved/Watcher, so Ryan sometimes will come to your house with the both of you and staying up late until 2 am searching for information about a case/ location and cracking stupid jokes

You once woke up to him laying on top of you, you in his arms and laptops and papers scattered across the desks, and your legs tangled together and him snoring in your ear.

You grabbed your phone, took a picture, posted it on your story maybe knowing the internet would explode, then snuggled into him and went back to sleep.

You are not on camera that much, usually you are behind it with the crew, but Ryan begs you to at least do the Postmortems/Debriefs with him and Shane.

You are hesistant at first, what is the fans don’t like you? Or they think that you are trying to get in between the ghoul boys?

Ryan assures you that they will love you.

And he is right!

They end up loving you and your dynamic with Ryan and Shane!!

Which gives you the confidence to go with them to ghost and crime sites.

Every time Ryan felt anxious and fearful, he would look at you and see you behind the camera and that makes him feel 1000 times better.

And if it got to the point that he was freaking out and panicking(like that ep where Ryan was laying on the floor and Shane was trying to comfort him) you’d get out from behind the cameras and hug and comfort him.

Because you can’t stand to see him like that

“Breathe Ryan, you’re good. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

If you were staying at a haunted hotel, if everyone was sleeping in separate rooms, he’d FaceTime you the whole night

There’s no way in hell he’d sleep through the night, and Shane would make fun of him if he called hum throughout the night

You didnt even have to talk to each other, your presence was enough for him

He’d wake you up randomly though if he thought he heard something in his room 💀

“Y/N! Y/N, Are you awake??”

You groggily woke up, moving your phone away from your ear at Ryan’s screams.

“What?? What happened?”

“…”

You let out a sigh at his silence. “It was your shadow, wasn’t it?”

“…..Maybe? But I swear I thought I saw something move!”

You rolled your eyes at the camera. “Go to sleep Ryan.” You ignored his voice as you went back to sleep.

The internet ships you guys a lot

They tend to do that with most male and female friendships online tbh

And it doesn’t help that the both of you can’t help but be naturally affectionate to one another.

Whether it’s wrapping an arm around the others shoulder, jumping on Ryan, scaring him and forcing asking him to give you piggyback rides and him throwing you onto his shoulder as revenge, the fans will eat up every moment.

You guys just find it hilarious 😭 It becomes a game between you guys to try and make the fans go insane 😭😭

You guys are honest with each other all the time and are open books with each other. If you are feeling down, he can tell just tell, no matter how hard you try. If someone is not good for Ryan, you will straight up tell him. He trusts your judgment because he knows it’s coming from a place of love and you rarely steer him in the wrong direction.

You tried to teach him to cook once and he almost burned your house down 😭 So he just randomly comes to your house to eat your food because he swears your cooking is the best.

Makes fun of your height. You're taller than him? It doesn't matter, your still getting attacked lol. You're shorter than even? Even worse for you, you can't make fun of him at all without him calling you a dwarf at least once.

He is a gymhead (He's not Biceps Bergara for nothing) and makes you go with him all the time. He claims you need to get stronger in case someone tries to attack you but you think it's cause he likes to see you suffer.

You take the ugliest pictures of him known to existence. He tries to delete them but you just keep getting more (Shane sends a lot to you but Ryan doesn't need to know that)

Acts like he hates your music taste to annoy you but secretly loves it

He drives you everywhere because you are quite literally the worst driver he has ever seen.

"Slow down, slow down, you almost hit that car!"

"It's not my fault they were in the way!"

"The light turned red and it was their turn!"

You force him to do Tiktok dances with you, and he's surprisingly not that bad at them?!! 😭

Whenever one of you needs comfort, no words are needed. You just wrap each other in your arms, the hugs and comforting presence silencing the outside world for as long as you both want.

All in all, Ryan would be a loving, playful best friend who holds you and your friendship close to his heart. He'd do anything for you to see you happy, he would make fun of you ( he is the only one allowed to do that) but would defend you in that same breath if anyone messed with you. He is truly grateful for you, and even though you guys joke and make fun of each other all the time, he makes sure you know it every single day.

[guusagi]

MCR Fanfic Rec/Review List #2

Welcome in!

I recently created a long mcr fanfic rec/review, that you can find here. This post is a continuation of that! Less introductory yapping in this one, I promise. I read a lot more fics since writing the initial rec/review list, and I just HAD to make another one. Please give all of these a chance! This took longer than I expected oops...

Ships: Frerard & Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, Gerard/Bob Bryar (yep).

AUs: Office Workers, Gardening Services, Ghost/Paranormal, Superheros/Radio Show Host, Murder Mystery, and more!

Without further ado these are my picks!

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The Science of Sleep by chimneythunder

Rating: Teens and Up (there is smut near the end) Pairing: Frerard & Frank/Party Poison Main POV: Frank AU: Modern World/Danger Days Status: Completed with 9 chapters and 93k words Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883120 My Summary: Frank is living a boring office-job life, but one day he starts having reoccuring dreams about a certain apocalyptic California...Little does he know, they aren't really dreams after all! He also meets an artsy guy at a coffee shop that is somehow connected to all of this? Frank dreams start taking over his waking life...what is really going on here?! Personal Thoughts: This fanfic was really fun!! I was surprised with how unique the premise is here. Frank travels to the Danger Days world everytime he falls asleep, and reading about his journey from thinking it's a dream, to figuring out it was reality after all was super entertaining (this isnt a spoiler as a reader you know its real). I also love the portrayal of everyone in this story, especially Ray and Party Poison, they're just so fun and believable! I can't stress enough how original this story is, honestly a super fun take on the usual Danger Days AU! It also has excellent writing and pacing, can't beat that!

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Living for the knife by drunkonyou

Rating: Teens and Up (no smut) Pairing: Ferard Main POV: Frank AU: Superhero Frank x Radio Show Host Gerard Status: Completed, oneshot with 50k words Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41442144 My Summary: Frank is what you would call a superhero, after rescuing Gerard from being mugged by a mysterious man and saving his life, he almost quits being a superhero due to the trauma of that night. Inspired by his rescue, Gerard starts a radio show where he discusses what Frank is up to, and his listeners share their experiences, theories on what his secret identity is and...ultimately lots of false rumors as well. One day, Gerard recieves a weird listener on call who claims to know who this hero really is...and that he wants to come back for more. It looks like Frank is going to have to rescue Gerard once again! Personal Thoughts: This is a shorter fic, however it felt really long in the best way! I was super invested in the plot of the story, and Frank suffers SO much in this one, it's really sad actually. The relationship Gerard and him build is super cute, who doesn't love a classic rescuing scenario?! I don't have tons to say about this, but the atmosphere is super cool and film noir-esque! Radio show host Gerard is an excellent idea all things considered, please give this one a read!

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Shadowplay by findingsaturn

Rating: Explicit (smut near the end) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Frank AU: Ghost/Witchcraft/Vampires & Murder Mystery Status: Completed with 27 chapters and 147k words Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20872241 My Summary: Frank lives in a small town, where magical occurences such as ghosts, ghouls, witches, vampires and the like are part of the norm. He works as a paranormal investigator alongside Ray. One day on a particularly brutal case, they are tasked to find out what happened. Little did he know, it would be the start of a huge conspiracy and a unique relationship! Personal Thoughts: Wow I can't use fancy enough words to describe how I feel after reading this fic. It's honestly in the top best-written ones that I've had the honor of reading so far. The intrigue and mystery is amazing, Frank's relationship with Gerard is just..so tragic yet beautiful, you really feel for the characters in this story. Everyone went through different tragedies in their lives. And the slowburn uuugh uuuuughh.. please give this one a read! It was also surprisingly scary, the atmosphere was real creepy and some of the later scenes are super TERRIFYING! Otherwise, I loved this one so much I'll read it again someday!

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The Best Part of My Day by pixie_revolver

Rating: Explicit (there is smut in the middle and end.) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Frank AU: Office Workers! Status: Completed with 14 chapters and 63k words Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45339874 My Summary: Frank works at an office, and one day bumps into a person he had not seen before and spills coffee over himself!.. This person is also the most gorgeous person he had ever seen, and fell in love at first sight! We follow Frank's shenanigans as he tries to learn more about his crush, while also being teased relentlessly by his coworkers. Will he get the courage to learn more about Gerard..? Personal Thoughts: This fic was short but SO fun! I was entertained from chapter 1, it's honestly written in a really comedic way. I was laughing and giggling throughout the entire story. Frank is sooo down bad for Gerard, and Gerard is so oblivious about it! Their relationship blossoms in the most adorable way... I want to re-read this one if I'm ever feeling down. There's also a cute touch at almost every chapter where you see Frank texting various friends who keep teasing him about Gerard, this gives a lot of personality to the story! I usually don’t comment on the smut, but it’s really good not gonna lie. Otherwise it’s a very fluffy fic and one of my faves on this list!

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Tints of Rainbow Hue by turps

Rating: Mature (no smut) Pairings: Part 1 thru 2 is Frikey; Part 3 focuses on Gerard/Bob Main POV: Bob & Various AU: Gardening Services Gang! Status: Completed with 3 parts, total word count 65k. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3399 My Summary: Ray owns a small gardening business, he travels around with Bob, and decides it's high time to hire someone new. They hire a younger Frank, who's very colorful and full of energy! They decide to work on the miskept and overgrown Way house, where two brothers live. Gerard seems to be ill and doesn't leave the house, while his little brother Mikey provides for both of them. This story follows along the relationships that blossom there! Personal Thoughts: This one is the only fanfic I'd recommend right now that includes Bob Bryar as one of the main characters. He's actually the main POV we usually follow throughout the story, especially in the 2nd fic. The characterization of Gerard's depression was hard to read, in the sense that it felt super real. I personally have not suffered with depression, but this felt more seriously written than most others who write him in that way. THE CUTENESS of Frank and Mikey though?! I read this fic originally cus I love me some Frikey, and Frank's pretty different from his usual punk aesthetic, he's actually quite the opposite! He's like, flowery colorful pastels if anything! It was a super refreshing take on him, though his personality mostly stays the same, he's super earnest and clumsy too. I never read fics with Bob due to obvious reasons, but I was actually cheering on this fictional version of him to allow himself to love Gerard. He's so gentle, yet firm with him, and super kind and it was lovely to read... Anyways before I gush and spoil everything, give this fic a chance!

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Lethal Attraction by desolationglow

Rating: Mature (obviously, there's smut here since Frank's ya know) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Frank AU: Prostitute Frank x Billionaire Gerard Status: Ongoing with 41 chapters and 130k words Last update: 01/22/24 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40619025 My Summary: Set in the late 90s, Frank gets by living in Los Angeles by means of prostitution. His once best friend Gerard disappears after high school, and still misses him to this day. After a series of brutal murders, people are warned about a serial killer on the loose, and Gerard reappears into Frank's life once more. Gerard is now a successful billionaire, and invites Frank on a journey of revenge against those who wronged them. Yet, their relationship is turbulent to say the least... Personal Thoughts: SO TRIGGER WARNING... this fic includes homophobia on Gerard's part. It's set in the 90s so there's typical bigotry in this one. Also this is the idiots in love trope to an extreme! I still recommend this fic cus the story is super well-written, I couldn't put this one down! Gee's mean in this one, but you can't help but like him as a sort of anti-hero/villain. Frank's the poor dude being dragged around by him... I don't want to spoil cus there's quite a few fun plot twists in this one. Also it has not updated since January of this year, however I bumped into the author randomly on discord! Yep, it was a super funny coincidence. I don't want to say much to respect their privacy, but I will say that they have not abandoned this fic! So I definitely recommend it, please continue supporting them as there will be more eventually!

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If I Could Say the Things I Want to Say to You by I_am_but_a_holyman

Rating: Explicit (some implied smut) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Frank AU: single Dad Frank and college dropout Gerard / Found Family Status: Completed with 25 chapters and 97k words Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46030816 My Summary: Frank has been a single father for a while now and has been struggling with finding a babysitter for his 10 year old non-binary child. One day, his friend Ray introduces him to Gerard, who babysits his own kids as well... it was definitely love at first sight! For who..? Well you'll find out soon enough! This story navigates the difficulties of being a single dad, as well as being a gender non-conforming child in an unaccepting world. Personal Thoughts: I loved this story so much omg!! Frank's kid is an original character for the story and they did not dissapoint! I loved that Frank is so supportive of his non-binary child, and protects them the best way they can. Gerard's just too cute in this one as well, he's also not completely cis and likes to wear more fem clothes, like the perfect rolemodel for Frank's kiddo! Overall a fluffy story, please give it a try!

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And that about wraps it up!! Thank you so much for reading!! I don't think I will make any more of these, but who knows?!

[stormy-writer]

All Hallows Eve

Tags: platonic x reader, platonic fic, Henry Mills x reader, Henry Swan x reader, ouat, Once Upon A Time, x reader, fluff, fanfiction, fanfic, fanfiction fluff, fanfic fluff

Catergory: platonic, fluff, flufffffff, you'll need to brush your teeth after this, see your dentist, this is soooo sweetttt

Tw: mentions of religion, spirits, teeth rotting

Wc: 1.2k

It was Halloween.

Not your favorite time of year, especially being the babysitter for a certain mayor's son. Most kids were out trick-or-treating, having fun with their family, and generally doing normal, fun, safe things.

Not Henry, of course.

Henry, at the ripe old age of 4, decided that he must, absolutely must go look through the woods for ghosts. Not even to hunt them like a normal little boy, mind you. Just to… find them, you assumed.

“Hallows Eve is when they're most active!” he chittered excitedly, sounding more intellectual than most children, even people your age. Really, you would have just stayed at the Mills’ residence, their giant, cushy home, watching scary movies and eating candy ‘till your teeth rotted.

But he just had to go see the ghouls. Well, his mother said to do whatever he wanted, within reason. And you just couldn't say no to those big, dark brown eyes, could you?

As your plastic lanterns seemed to flicker and the noises of the forest sounded haunting, you started wondering if maybe you should have said no.

Another twig snapped beneath your foot, leaves crunching under your weight as you stepped over yet another root, minding not to trip over one again.

“… You sure this is a good place, Henry? It's a bit…” you paused, unsure of how to put “fucking spooky” nicer than that.

“… off-putting…”

The little boy giggled, turning back to you in his oversized coat. “Well, yeah. The spookier, the better!”

You internally groaned, managing only a tight-lipped smile at the boy. Once he turned back around, however, you visibly deflated and let your head hang for a moment before continuing after him.

Maybe you should have been the one in front, protecting him from whatever grotesqueries would be about this chilling night. But to be honest, you didn't have a clue what to do, and he seemed pretty knowledgeable about all things Halloween.

“You know how Halloween used to be All Hallows Eve?” He chimed, slowing his pace to walk a little more beside you. You nodded, giving him a hum of confirmation. ‘I mean, it's the only thing you'll call it, so I'd hope so,’ I thought.

“Well,” he continued, “Hallows Eve being on the last day of October would imply that November is All Hallows!” He was pretty proud of the fact, from his tone to the little pep in his step. Nodding thoughtfully, you took a second to try and remember a fact you learned in the second grade, years and years before the stress of being a young adult.

“Huh,” you hummed in thought. Henry couldn't help but be a little curious. “Huh? Huh what?” he questioned. “Oh, I was just thinking.”

Years back, you remember somebody telling you, maybe not a teacher but a mentor nonetheless, about All Hallows Eve. About the day after, and how important it was.

But the foggy memory could barely bring up an answer, so you just gave him what you had.

“I believe it's supposed to be November first that's important. Something called All Saint's day, or All Hallows day,” you explained, although a little unsure if you were right. “It's a day to commemorate all the Saint's of the Catholic and similar religions.”

A normal kid probably would've thrown a fit, or gotten quiet at the subtle hint that their deductive reasoning was wrong. Good thing Henry wasn't normal. The new information made his eyes light up with some kind of joy, as if learning and stories were the best thing in the world.

“What's Hallow’s Eve for then? Do they celebrate for two days?” He likely would've been brewing with questions if it wasn't so late, seeing as the both of you were getting the slightest hint of drowsiness. Make no mistake, the second he showed sign of wanting to go home, you'd be throwing him over your shoulder and running.

But your memories seemed to only disappear the harder you tried to think about them, something holy and something lost. So you used whatever you had left and some estimation to get an alright answer.

“Might have been to clear out any bad spirits for the spirits of the Saints to come,” you shrugged, switching the plastic lanterns to your other hand and letting the tired arm rest. “Wouldn't know, though. They might have something about it at the library, but I don't think they'll be letting anyone in anytime soon.”

Being reminded that a vast treasure trove of stories and learning was trapped behind boarded windows and a city mandate, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fizzle a bit. You never liked seeing him down, so you nudged his shoulder gently as you two came to a stop.

“Hey, it's alright. We can always write our own stories,” you winked. This made him beam, and that sparkle glittered once more. Feeling accomplished, you looked around at the thickly wooded area, fog shrouding your sight, and sighed. But before you could say anything about heading home, Henry let out a deep, sleepy yawn.

“Looks like someone's getting tired, huh?” You cooed at the puppy-like boy, seeing his cute little scrunched up face as you remark.

“Am not! I'm wide awake!” he stomped his little foot, not wanting to stop the search for ghosties. You, however, very much so wanted to get out of the chilly, foggy, spooky ass woods and watch over a cute little kid from the safety and comfort of a mansion.

“C'mon, Henry, it's getting late, and you're getting sleepy anyways,” you stepped closer to the boy, handing him your lantern. “Here, hold this for me.” He took it, albeit a little confused.

“Why do you want me to hold- wAH,” he yelped as you scooped him up and threw him over your shoulder, heading straight back for wherever it was you came from. “Nooo!” he whined, kicking his little legs. You could just tell he was pouting, probably making the saddest, biggest puppy eyes you'd ever see. Good thing he was on your shoulder.

“Yeesss,” you chuckled back, knowing better than to give in to his adorable pleadings. “Your mother’ll kill me if I don't bring you home now. Besides,” you grinned, having a trick up my sleeve, “I’ll make you some… pasta?”

His whining and pouting almost instantly dropped, and he was smiley again as he flipped back, knowing you'd catch him and let him lay across your arms. “Okay!” he chirped, getting the better end of this deal. The fog was dense and humid, but soft enough and easy to navigate through, so you were out on the street in no time.

As you were walking back to the mansion in the center of the city, the sleepy boy in your arms yawned again, cuddling closer into you as his eyelids slowly started getting heavier.

“Nighty night,” you whispered to him.

“Nighty…” he mumbled back, already fast asleep before the second “night” could leave his lips. The sweet boy looked so peaceful, so adorable in your arms as you made the silent and careful trek to his home. Hey, maybe it wasn't such a bad Halloween after all.

Sorry for not posting for a while, life has been beating me up for months. Might have endometriosis, might not. I do, however, have unexplained constant limb pain. The curse of the fanfic writer is true, won't stop me tho ;P