#he was in the brotherhood for so long that feeling uncomfortable was normal for him

[wispythreads]

Fallout Series Positives:

Pretty faithful to the look and feel of Fallout, whether we're going BIG with technology and creatures, or small with food and tools

First episode an absolutely stellar introduction, got me hooked to the plot, got me invested in the characters, absolutely trashed my emotions and made me cry twice, first at the very beginning then again more towards the end

That Fallout branded mix of goofy, corny humor and absolutely sobering scenes of either how terrifying or deeply sad the world is

Action Sequences that either feel completely accurate to the standard game or like someone has Bloody Mess active.

Our main Vault Dweller is exactly how I felt first experiencing these games and it has been lovely watching her progression from sheltered/slightly off socialization to adapting to the surface while still maintaining the root of her core values

The Ghoul is a terrifying badass that is very entertaining to watch and whose experience with the world feels on par with how I approach the games now

Maximus clearly is on the road to being disillusioned with the Brotherhood and slowly becoming a better person, it is taking him time and effort and the journey is not yet over

Not sure if this would be a positive for everyone but watching the Knight go from intimidating figure to "I'm bored and want to shoot something." "*Sees creepy cave that clearly has something dangerous AND something they need in it* Fuck." "(uses companion as convenient meat shield/danger scout)" "*Is in fucking power armor but as soon as he is faced with something terrifying in nature and it is not going his way:* (running) fuck fuck fuck fuck" as much as he was an asshole it was hilarious seeing a representation of a True GamerTM experience.

I missed the more rotten ghouls of earlier games and so was pleasantly surprised by the inclusion of other ghouls that followed their design rules more than 4's raisin ghouls. Robert and Martha were devastating.

Some pretty good Vault horror honestly

A character's actions that were kind a messed up in a way that was clearly framed as comedic has SHARPLY turned sinister due to stuff that gets revealed at the very end and makes me very excited to see what more of their deal is the next time we see them.

Fallout Series ehhhs... (Will be containing spoilers):

Personal ehhhs:

Putting this ehhhh at the top because it's a very personal one that might be shared or might be different for other people, but a lot of the sexual things that cropped up (and for the most part seemed like they were meant to humorous? To get a laugh?) just really weren't doing it for me at best and making me deeply uncomfortable at worst. Would love a version with them cut. It does feel in line with a small part of Fallout 2's humor though so again mainly a personal ehhhh rather than disparaging the show for it.

This one might just be because I'm asexual but the romance between Maximus and Lucy feels forced? Allosexuals please advise, is it normal for infatuation to strike that fast and hold weight for so long after? I don't mind the two together, looking at their individual characters I do think that it could work, its just it feels off when the story is very clear about the intention that these two will end up together immediately upon them meeting. Again, I don't hate romance subplots in theory, it's just, in general, when they show up like this where it feels like it was tacked on in order to check a box, rather than fully explored into how that would develop, that kind of just bothers me.

As a small branch to that last one, if it is forced than it feels kind of bad that a lot of the positive developments of Maximus's character seem to only occur because of his crush on Lucy. Him wanting to help Lucy because he earnestly does want to follow the one value of the Brotherhood he's internalized, being a pillar of Justice for the wasteland, and her being a Vault Dweller following the Golden Rule clearly paints her as an innocent needing assistance and justice, well, that's all well and good, but her being able to influence his decisions because he doesn't want her to think bad of him in a romantic sense, if I'm reading that right... don't like it. Not to say that his character growth completely involves Lucy! His disillusionment with the Brotherhood happens without her, and he has positive growth with Thaddeus as well, it just seems like its easier for him to take steps back from his personal growth when she's not in the picture.

Production ehhhs:

some of the scenes had backgrounds that looked a little bit too much like they were taken straight from the game, with the actors in the foreground kind of visibly sticking out from them. I'm not sure if this is because they were using green screens for certain shots or what other explanation there might be for it. If it is green screens though... Amazon you cannot pull the wool over my eyes and claim that you did not have the funds to build actual sets for this tv show.

The initial introduction for CX404 was absolutely great and I was excited with how some frames seemed to emphasize her own perspective of what was going on around her and this one man that's cared for her since she was a pup, but any shots involving her after seem kind of weird with how they're cut and the perspective shots seemed to get dropped. Maybe I'm just spoiled with how well the shots were done with Jed in the Thing, and the perspective thing being dropped is really just a personal disappointment than anything wrong with the show, but, it's my blog so I'm gonna admit I'm disappointed that potential wasn't explored.

This one is kind of a true "ehhh," it's really all I can think to describe this thought when I remember John Boyega's role as Finn and watch this film. It feels off that, in this 3 protagonist cast, Aaron Moten and John Boyega both are in the role of a character whose background is coming from a deeply oppressive regime he's been brainwashed by since he was a child, and whose main soldiers are unilaterally recognized by the masked armor they wear. I do really like the archetypes they chose for the 3 protagonist cast! Pure of Heart Vault Dweller/Indoctrinated Brotherhood Scribe/Disillusioned Pre-War Ghoul, just... Thinking on the fact Aaron got the brotherhood role. Maybe this was done purposefully for a positive reason, but right now fresh off the show without digging into director/cast interviews that maybe explore this specifically it just. ehhh.

As much as I loved the horror set up for Vault 33 the span of time that goes between Norm and Chet discovering that and the next bit of investigation Norm does on the subject is. Incredibly long??? Brother clearly seems very resourceful and good at finding information, but with how the episodes are cut and framed it feels like a great amount of time goes by before he next tries to dig up anything on what happened to 33/why they were trying to get into Vault 31. I don't know man maybe this is because it's easier to do in a video game but I feel like if I found a bunch of corpses that wrote with their own blood how a discovered deception drove them to madness and were frozen in various states of doing whatever they conceivably could to break into a neighboring vault because of said discovery I think I would. Not sleep until I figured out just what was going on???

Lore ehhhs:

Same problem that usually occurs when Bethesda is at the seat of Worldbuilding. Philly might've fit ok in the West Coast back in Fallout 1 and 2 but it feels weird seeing a settlement like this 100 years in the future. 100 years ago for us was 1924, to kind of help put it into perspective. Having this all handwaved and explained as: "Well of course everyone's acting as if no progress was made since 100 years ago! Nukes were dropped on the NCR/Shady Sands and set them back to square one just recently!" Really isn't... good enough for me.

I've been away from the lore for a while so a lot of what I remember is vague rather than detailed, but I am getting the impression that Bethesda is making a bunch of tweaks to the history that was already set up by previous games and. I mean just honestly speaking I really don't trust their interpretations (to put it generously) of Fallout 1, 2, and even New Vegas's established lore. (EDIT: Oh no yeah I was definitely right they've straight up changed a lot and where they haven't made changes per say they have made choices for this present space of time that makes events in the first games kind of impossible)

The vials the Ghoul is reliant on. I've been generous with interpreting them as something that was recently invented, and used by ghouls who, at varying lengths of age, start showing signs of going feral. If the way the show seems to be framing them is true, that they are instead supposed to be things that have always existed and quietly used by ghouls to prevent every single one of them from going feral in the background of the games, then. No that is awful try again Bethesda. You cannot get me onboard with something like that, especially when it would've presented a really interesting quest opportunity AGES ago if true.

Character/Story ehhhs:

The amount of times something absolutely horrible happened that could've been prevented by something as simple as a character speaking up instead of just being set dropping is. Not small and pretty annoying. Miscommunication is pretty bad too. It's like watching a shitty romcom that knows the only way the scene will progress the way they want is if miscommunication happens but don't take the time to have that miscommunication occur in a believable way.

There is something very disjointed with our look at Cooper in the first episode vs. where he's ended up. The last shot we have of him is riding with his daughter as the bombs dropped, presumably trying in vain to put distance between them and the bombs/find shelter. His wife/her mother seems out of the picture at this point in time. But the Ghoul asks Lucy's dad where his family is, indicating that at some point between the bombs dropping his daughter ended up with his wife and he was separated from both of them. The only thing I can think of is that he somehow made it to his wife even though they were incredibly far from where ever she could possibly be with the Fallout quickly encroaching at their heels, and she took the daughter in a way that somehow kept Cooper from following/knowing their end destination and left him to succumb to the said encroaching Fallout. But, again, thinking about that very last shot of Cooper in the first episode, that feels really contrived and kind of implausible? If not impossible. Maybe they'll pull off an explanation that has me feeling less grumpy about it, though, who knows.

So okay hang on a minute. The overseer (look I forgot his name I'm sorry) was upset that his wife left the vault and took their two kids with her. The only possible way he could've thought to get his kids back was to nuke Shady Sands??? And he somehow had access to resources that would allow him to do that??? When he's been in the Vault and either entirely was frozen until recently or has periodically been put into and taken out of the freezer for 200 years??? The kids survived that/are not noticeably harmed by this experience???? The Brotherhood are somehow involved??? (I mean I can't think of any other reason why a knight was present as Little!Maximus stepped out and witnessed the devastation around him, they mostly stay in hiding on the West Coast by this point and for all they're so-called values they really aren't ever inclined to help out people in desperate need of it, so whatever they were doing it wasn't anything "good". Unless Bethesda is thinking of tweaking this aspect of their history as well which. It's not impossible unfortunately, considering they keep doing that/have already made changes in the show so far)

Don't get me started on Moldaver. I'm really disappointed we did not end this season with some kind of conversation between her and the Ghoul that would've given us any actual concrete information about her specifically that we weren't already shown by flashbacks and side characters talking about her. She is alive and looks exactly as she did 200 years ago. She doesn't appear to be a ghoul, as one from 200 years ago is obvious in appearance, it doesn't seem right that she would've been in cryostasis until recently, as she was clearly around when Lucy was a small child with barely developing memories and she, again, still looks EXACTLY the way she did before the bombs dropped. No explanation is given for this. I have a theory that she might be some kind of Phoenix-style new mutant that comes back to life no matter how many times she dies and so might not actually be dead, but that's relying a little (VERY) heavily on her Flame Mother epithet and again me being baffled that they killed the season antagonist when she seemed incredibly important to multiple characters and there's still so much mystery surrounding her. If I'm right that cryostasis is not the explanation for her still being alive and she's just been in the wasteland for 200 years, why has she only coordinated an attempt to get her research back now? How did she convince an Enclave Scientist of all people (granted, one who clearly has a soft spot) to get that research for her AND have it transported instead of kept for the Enclave? Why wait to go after the overseer at least a decade after the bombing and the murder of Rose? Why rely on raider help when she seems to be such a huge deal that she could've relied on better armed/more intelligent help? Why massacre a bunch of innocent people people who weren't in anyway involved with what happened to Shady Sands? Why not just wait until the cover of darkness, the newly wedded wife and all the other vault residents deeply sleeping, and whisk the overseer away then? Why put the two children that Rose clearly cared deeply for at risk? The raid of 32 was our kicker into this series, was incredibly interesting and investing, but now it just. Doesn't make any sense since we've learned who Moldaver actually is.

The reveal of the Vault 31-32-33 experiment and what was in Vault 31 was. Ok. Kind of deflating, honestly, considering how much was built up around it in Vault 33. Not to say that the experiment isn't still completely fucked up but. I don't know it doesn't seem as bad as to result in that kind of reaction that happened in 33. Maybe there is more to discover, though.

Actually no wait hold on. How did the raid in 32 even happen??? Bud is overseeing everything that happens in each vault, and the overseer (and possible any other originally vault 31 residents) of 33 had been dead for a long, LONG while before the raiders showed up. Bud didn't notice Vault 33 died?? If he did, this information wasn't passed on to the overseer of 32?? There was no suspicion on either Bud or the overseer's side that 33 has been quiet for so, again, VERY long, and no one investigated?? Bud didn't clock that the door had been opened by Rose, who was dead for at least a decade by this point?? The overseer wasn't suspicious AT ALL that he didn't recognize any of these supposed Vault 33 residents, especially considering the long silence beforehand??? This is an incredibly huge failure of management hoo boy. (The one, again, very generous interpretation I could give this is that the overseer did recognize Moldaver and her name, but only vaguely, fuzzily, which he chocked up as him not paying attention well enough to remember someone who must've been skilled enough in management to be made overseer. That doesn't explain the raiders with her. That doesn't explain the fact that somehow someone he knows is not from Vault 31 was made overseer when the last 33 overseer perished. Like we see that there were backup 31 vault dweller's hanging around 32, why wouldn't the same be true for 33 based off everything we've learned so far???)

[lovethytendytenderly]

Thinking nesting fic thoughts this morning so have a 5 minute not!fic:

Blomma is billeting with Ned this season for fic purposes. Don’t question it.

Ned’s driving them home after the road trip when they stop by Tristan’s for plot contrivance reasons (I’m using the dogs as a plot device) and get pulled into platonic nesting. Ned and Tristan aren’t together or interested it’s just platonic brotherhood (with a hint of subtext).

Tristan promised Ned when he flew back to Pittsburgh that he wouldn’t stress nest alone about getting sent back. Tristan didn’t. Tristan doesn’t stress nest. It doesn’t help him. Unfortunately for them Tristan does happy nest and the Wilkes win is a happy event even if he then watched the Penguins lose on tv and felt bad about it. Ned should know better about Tristan, the last time he nested was the plane ride home after the goalie goal. He got the entire plane cuddling.

Anyway Tristan is back in his house from Wilkes. He’s in a better mood about hockey. He’s got his dogs and Ned’s dogs because they’re friends and this way Ned doesn’t need a sitter for as long. Somewhere in settling back into his house and prepping for hockey Tristan starts nesting about it. It’s fine. He doesn’t need his teammates just the dogs and his piles of blankets and pillows and snacks and he’ll be normal in a couple hours. Teammates would be nice, but aren’t required.

Ned comes by on the way back from the airport feeling kinda bad about the losing streak. Blomma is with him cause they’re living together. They’ll head home but first they have to get the dogs from Tristan. Ned would kinda like to go home and lick his wounds but first he has to be a responsible pet owner, then it’s care and keeping of the rookie, and then Ned can go hide in his room and be sad.

Ned lets himself into Tristan’s place and gets bowled over by the dogs and no sign of Tristan. After looking through the house Ned finds him in the spare living room where the conversation pit is absolutely decked out in blankets and soft things. I repeat, Tristan was fine nesting alone. He’s not celebrating the win with any of the Wilkes guys. The minute Ned walks in tho, Tristan pounces and drags him into the conversation pit turned nest. Ned gets wrapped up with blankets, burrito style, with a gatorade and a granola bar in reach and a fluffy penguin plushie he’s forced to hold. It’s got eyebrows. Ned has the uncomfortable realization that it’s him.

Blomma was playing with the dogs while Ned vanished to find Tristan. With Ned safely in the nest, Tristan goes and gets him. Blomma gets surprised by 200+ pounds of lanky goalie latching onto his back and then hustling the poor startled 22 year old into his nest. Blomma ends up in less of a burrito than Ned, but he does get tucked into the nest like Tristan is tucking him into bed. He is also given a tiny penguin plush to cuddle which Tristan pulled from who knows where since he cant see any stuffed animals among the many pillows and blankets in the nest.

All the boys are wrapped up in blankets like Tristan is putting them to bed. Which he is. Nesting time is for cuddling and napping and Tristan was about to lay down for a nap. The dogs follow them back to the room and jump down to cuddle. Ned ends up with his two on his thighs and Blomma gets Diesel while Kitty cuddles Tristan.

No sexy shenanigans, just platonic cuddling and too many blankets and pillows and mid day naps and also the dogs are there and getting cuddled.

Ned:

Blomma:

[amazinglyegg]

Oh and another hc! Danse is autistic but has little problem with eye contact for the most part because the Brotherhood trained him out of it, but when he's emotional in casual settings his ability to maintain it falters. This is most notice by him always looking away when he smiles

Y'know I've always imagined him to have a problem with Too Much Eye Contact, like, staring-into-your-soul levels of eye contact, but I think both of our headcanons actually work...

Danse hears that "not looking someone in the eyes is considered rude/people will think you're lying or untrustworthy" so he starts just STARING all the time. Maxson's giving a speech? Staring out of respect. Giving orders to his team? Staring so they know he's serious and trusts them. He's the living embodiment of this meme:

He gets so confused when initiates cower away from him because he tries hard not to be intimidating, what is he doing wrong? Is it his power armor? His rank? Is he not friendly enough?

And it's not like anybody will call him out on it because god forbid neurotypicals talk about their issues because of his rank, so he just continues doing this for years thinking he's being polite.

Maybe it takes Sole pointing it out to him or maybe he starts to feel comfortable enough around Sole, but he'll start letting himself look away more. While laughing, or telling a joke, or having a serious conversation. It's way more comfortable to him and Sole doesn't seem to mind. Danse looking away while he's talking is an easy way to tell that he enjoys someone's presence even when he won't admit it

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Would you do 🏫🍻🔪 for Maxson?😳

Yes indeed, I would ;)

NSFW below the cut!

M) Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

He's a young, fit, pent-up guy. So, here's to say his sex drive tends to be on the high side. However, Arthur has much less free time to pursue such urges as your average 20-year-old, so he can't afford to be constantly going at it, much as he'd like that. That being said, it's almost too easy to get the Brotherhood Elder hot under that collar of his. If the two of you are alone, it takes little more than a sensually whispered word for him to be ready; out in public though... No, yeah. It's still pretty damn easy. You give him a wink or some bedroom eyes in the midst of a meeting, and you'll find the young Elder shifting uncomfortably in his seat in no time.

A) Aftercare (what they're like after sex):

Maxson tends to go at it pretty fast and rough, losing himself in his actions a bit whenever he's with you, so he likes to take some time afterwards to relax and unwind for a few minutes before getting back to his work or passing out. This usually includes some praise, his rough hands rubbing softly over any marks he made, asking if you enjoyed yourself, and maybe getting just a little over-emotional during the pillow talk portion. He would never admit it to anyone, but Arthur always feels particularly vulnerable in the afterglow; the overwhelming feeling of all that pent-up stress and emotion causing his lips to loosen to reveal unguarded truths he wouldn't normally voice, and even occasionally prompting him to shed some tears that he's been holding back for much too long.

X) X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes):

It's no secret that Maxson is a pretty big guy, forced to train his body to peak athleticism from a young age in order to spearhead such a military-focused faction, and to maybe fool others into believing that he is older than he really is. He tends to like to show off the muscles he's worked so hard for, making sure his partner gets a good look at him from whatever position they're in, and often manhandling them a bit to prove his strength to them. As far as what's below the belt, Maxson is a bit bigger than average, measuring in at a little over 6 inches, and he's pretty girthy as well, so a little stretching during foreplay is a good idea ;)

S) Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?):

As fit as he is, Arthur can last a long time when it comes to the more rigorous physical actions that come with sex; and yet, his experience level is actually pretty low. So, sometimes he can be a little premature with his release, but he tends to have good recovery time, given all of his endurance training, so you shouldn't have to worry too much. On most days, having two or three shorter sessions is what he prefers, as quickies just tend to be easier with his lack of free time. Every once in awhile though, he likes to try and take a night off and spend a couple hours with you, with lots of foreplay and aftercare, and as many sessions as the two of you can handle.

O) Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He gets almost giddy at the thought of you going down on him, absolutely losing himself when you're between his legs. If you wanna hear this boy, this is one way to draw out every erotic sound he's capable of, and it's one of his favorite ways to just be with you quickly on days where he doesn't have a lot of time.

Giving oral though, is a little bit tougher for him. He's pretty damn inexperienced, and tends to just think he can muscle his way through it and that'll be good enough, but if you give him some guidance, he's a pretty quick learner. And once he finds what works to make you completely come undone, he gets really addicted to bringing you into that state. He's also just a big fan of having you sit on his face, so... that's a plus.

N) No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs):

As hot as the idea of having you in really risky locations around the Prydwen or Airport sounds, Maxson knows he has to keep a certain level of respect associated with himself. So, unfortunately, that means a lot of sex in his quarters with the door tightly locked and both of you fighting back the sounds of your pleasure, lest the rest of the Prydwen crew hears you.

He also will not stand for you being under the influence of any chems when you're with him. But that's just pretty much in general anyways.

For the most part though, he wants to experiment a bit, try new positions and kinks and just find out what he likes, since he hasn't had much time to explore it all that much, nor with a partner he feels this comfortable with.

[wehavebiggerproblems]

Fallout 4 Random Companion Headcanons

Wrote these a few years ago, too nervous then to share them.

Ada

-Ada was built in 2268. She's about 21 years old.

-Her first memory is of seeing The Mechanist in front of her. Then she watched as The Mechanist removed their head and smiled.

-She's Isabel's first project. 

-Her voice was originally supposed to be more synthesized and robotic, but the more human sound was easier for Isabel to work with.

-Ada prefers to travels in groups with 3-4 people, knowing fully well a robot is a higher target for scavvers.

- Her base body was constructed from many different trial runs of the "ADA" project.

-She's programmed to remain indifferent but the nagging voice in her programming says to do good things in order to to aid other people.

-Ada appreciates the effort Sole goes through to upgrade her body. She doesn't think it's necessary and she's somewhat sentimental about her original form.

-She finds Codsworth's attachment to Sole strange. Almost too human, those Mr. Handy's.

Cait

-Cait loves baths. Bubble baths with bath bombs and even a little rubber ducky. Only Sole knows this.

-The rubber ducky's name is Codsworth. Will not explain why.

-Can fire a rifle over her shoulder behind her. (Annie Oakley style)

-Hates Jazz music. Says it's too slow and calm. Really dislikes it because she's uncomfortable slow dancing with anyone.

-Allergic to feathers. Rad chickens make her sick to be around.

-But once the feathers are removed, the chicken has been cut up, and cooked with some veggies and a loaf of bread, loves it.

-Chicken soup is her favourite dish. Only likes Sole's chicken soup though. Will not eat anyone else’s.

-Shot put would be her favourite sport. Throwing a heavy metal sphere a very long distance is goals.

Codsworth

-Codsworth can speak 8 languages. Including: English, Spanish, French, Japanese, German, Italian, Polish, and Swedish.

-Can recognize almost every written language and translate but lacks the programming to speak every one.

-Nate/Nora got him two years before Shaun was born.

-Sole did minimal repair work on him, and offered to polish him every time he got a dent or scratch.

-He always accepted the polish offer. Very wary of Sole doing factory repairs on him. Would prefer professionals doing the delicate work.

-Always celebrated Nate/Nora and Sole’s respective birthdays. For 200 years.

-When Sole called him "Family", he felt an odd electric pulse through his core processor. He decided to call it a skipped heart beat.

-Calls synth Shaun "Sonny", and "Young Master Shaun".

-Makes Sole's favourite meal when they come back home from Vault 111.

-Will ask to take over if he catches Sole doing chores.

-Hesitates when he has to bring up Sole's spouse knowing it's a touchy subject.

-His favourite friend of Sole's is Nick. Thinks Nick is a good role model for synth Shaun.

Curie

-Curie, like Codsworth can speak 8 languages. However, after becoming a synth, she can only speak about 4.

-Curie loves the feeling of velvet. Collects pieces of velvet clothing. 

-Once wore a velvet cape around because she loved the way it draped over her shoulders and fluttered when she walked.

-Has sensory phases. Music, nice noises, soft materials, different foods, perfumes, etc. Collects whatever makes her senses happy.

-During the "feeling phase" her favourite feeling was holding Sole's hand. Loved running her hand over the surface of water. And velvet.

-Talks out what her feelings are with Piper. Piper explains to her what the "spin spin spin" in her head meant.

-Favourite smell is fresh baked bread. Bakes bread with Mama Murphy every weekend.

-Favourite sweet food is mutfruit pie. Will badger Piper to make it with her.

-Curie's motor functions are still new. Sometimes she misses what she was trying to grab and fumbles.

Danse

-Danse is a horrid mechanic. You'd think spending time in the BoS and dedicating time to auto repair with Ingram. Can't put a toaster together.

-But Power Armor is a piece of cake. Can't do much with pre-war tech, yet fixing power armor is as easy as making breakfast.

-Like all gen 3 synths, he loves Fancy Lad snack cakes. He'd share whatever box he'd find with the squires around the Prydwen.

-Scribe Haylen would volunteer to work alongside Danse on all his scouting missions.

-Danse found out Deacon was the one who stuck the dildo to his power armor. He made sure Deacon's wigs were the same bright purple color the very next day.

-Loves country music. When a traveling courier stops by and shares their western/country music, he actually dances. 

-Has a heart for kids. Even Billy. 

-Leg bouncing habit. Can't bounce his leg in power armor but as soon as he's out, his leg's jittering.

Deacon

-Deacon is in his late 40's. 

-Did not lie about his wife and the University Point Deathclaws.

-Enjoys learning about Pre-war culture, spends free time with ghouls asking them about the past.

-Sole can fool him easily about prewar facts though. 

-Has incredible luck with the pie claw game. Has won 8 times while traveling with Sole.

-Loves making silly bets. "I bet I can skip this plate across the lake at least 1 time." Proceeds to throw the plate at the water horizontally. 

-Doesn't hate Danse. He will pull pranks on him though. Once stuck a dildo on the back of Danse's power armour. 

-His hair grows quickly so he has to shave every day.

-Shaves his head, isn't bald. Shaved head works better with his pompadour wig. 

-Doesn't like mutfruit. Says it's too acidic and hurts his gums.

-Has a rifle-shaped scar on his forearm. Will tell a different story for it every time.

-Once drank a dozen Nuka Cola Quantums on a dare. His pee glowed for a week.

-Tried going vegetarian once. ONCE. Found out being vegetarian means eating no meat or dairy products. Had to have Sole explain that, while gross, radroach could technically be  considered meat.

-Is kinda clumsy. Always bumps into counter edges and stubs his toes on bits of debris.

-Doesn't lie about his family. And when Sole calls him family, promises to never lie about family again.

Gage

-Gage juggled skii balls to entertain the last Overboss, Colter.

-He enjoys small shooting competitions with MacCready, Sole, and X6. All four are sharp shooters.

-Fastest learner. Spent an entire week learning how to cook Sole's old recipes. He can cook them better than anyone with the exception of Codsworth.

-Hums when he works. 

-Had a one night stand with Nisha. Ended so bad, he avoids that area of the park at all costs.

-Hates cats. Had an awful run in with a rad lion. Radiated Mountain Lion that tore a scar deep down his back. 

-Does routine maintenance on the rides in the park. He knows how everything works there. From social hierarchy - to the intricacies of the Vault Tec: Among the Stars ride.

-His favourite flavour of Nuka Cola is Nuka Cola Victory. Rare to find but easily the best.

-Record farthest shot is a bean can from 410 meters. 

-He's a lightweight. Only two beers and he's buzzed enough to sing along with Red-Eye.

-Will tell a different story every time if anyone asks about the eye patch.

Hancock

-Hancock is a history buff. Loves learning about colonial era civilization. 

-Has spent days with Kent Connolly researching Silver Shroud information. He knows more about the Silver Shroud than any other companion.

-Has had a fling with every person in Goodneighbor at least once. Even Kleo. 

-At least in a sexual way, he is extremely open minded. Welcomes new experiences and new information given anywhere anytime.

-Had a decent childhood with his brother. He remembers tending to the mutfruit trees with him and eating every other piece they picked.

-Adores pickles. Would sit and eat an entire jar of pickles just because he loves the cronch so much.

-All time favourite chem is Mentats. Loves making intellectual jokes while high as a kite.

-Does not know what a lot of pre-war expressions mean, but enjoys saying them and hearing them from Sole.

-Is a master at repairing clothing. How else does the frock stay in such good condition? He tends to it every night.

-As far as euphemisms for ghouls go, he likes "beef jerky".

Longfellow

-Longfellow met Hannah while out hunting. She blasted a trapper's head clean off, and he fell harder than the trapper's body.

-He spent his youth training, hoping to become a Brotherhood soldier one day.

-And then he met a vertibird full of them. They called Far Harbor a dump while gathering supplies there. Officially decided to cease all training.

-Managed to take down 17 Mirelurks in 3 minutes. 

-Holds the record in Acadia for alcohol consumption. All records involving alcohol consumption.

-He's really fit? Longfellow could and has bench pressed Sole. 

-He only did so because Hancock and MacCready wouldn't shut up about it.

-Loves singing old shanty songs and dancing with Sole. Only when no one else is around though.

-After the events at Far Harbor, he decides to go sailing along the coast. Wants to see the world more.

MacCready

-MacCready does brush his teeth. He brushes his teeth regularly. He started brushing after he left Little Lamplight. By that point the damage was already done.

-Lucy was the one to convince him to brush his teeth.

-He can't stand the smell of lavender. Lavender candles, lavender lotion, etc...makes him feel  nauseous.

-He named his sniper rifle, "Lucy"

-Won't drink brahmin milk with cereal even to Sole's encouragement.

-Is very well read. Vault 87 had many educational textbooks hidden among the super mutants.

-MacCready was the longest lasting mayor in L.L. He was mayor for 6 years.

-He has no idea what television is and is afraid to ask any pre-wars about it.

-Wary of all ghouls, both feral and normal. He's not bias to non-ferals, but he is a little uncomfortable.

-Had a crush on Lone Wanderer when they first visited L.L. Mac told Joseph and he made fun of him.

Nick

-Nick has an oral fixation. Smokes out of habit and having the familiar feeling of a cigarette between his lips feeds into human nostalgia.

-His right hand is missing skin because he fidgets only his right. Whether it was picking at the fraying plastic or rubbing the fake skin raw.

-He lost the chunk of neck skin after Myrna accused him of working for the Institute. Tore off a chunk to prove he wasn't a perfect person or an infiltrator synth.

-Ellie was the first person in Diamond City to wholly accept Nick as he is. She asked to work with him as soon as he decided to stay.

-Piper and Nick have jam sessions where they have heavy debates about Diamond City law enforcement and criminal misuse of power in the capitalistic society of pre-war USA.

-Met Dogmeat under an overpass. He handed the dog a snack cake and scratched his head. They've been close pals ever since.

-Will "sleep" around Sole. He'll lay down and manually put himself into "sleep mode". Any unnecessary functions will shut down. He lets his thoughts take over. All Sole hears is the faintest fan whir.

Piper

-Piper plans Sole's 211th birthday. She goes all out, collects balloons, bakes several cakes with Codsworth, makes everyone attend and threatens anyone who would act up. "It's Blue's first birthday out here, you WILL behave!"

-Knows how to make mutfruit preserves, mutfruit pie, mutfruit jam and jelly. Makes it for Nat constantly.

-Has a notebook dedicated to little tidbits of info about Sole.

-Nat is exactly 8 years, 5 months, and 25 days younger than Piper. 

-Piper has interviewed every person in Diamond City. Made a game of it with Nat at first, then she just kept going with it.

-Piper has awful shorthand. Almost as bad as Curie's shorthand. Still illegible. 

-Piper's handwriting is so bad, Nat does the writing for the paper. Piper writes the final draft and Nat copies it, and sends it through the printing press.

-Despite bad handwriting, Piper is very eloquent. Can make a super mutant sound like good date idea or convince anyone how the mayor might actually be a synth.

-Her favourite of Sole's friends is Kent Connolly. Would gladly dress up and act out Silver Shroud episodes with him and Sole.

Preston

-Preston has insomnia. Cannot sleep well. Has had insomnia since Quincy. 

-Can sleep well if he's sleeping beside someone.

-Has a box under his bed of little knick-knacks children have given him over the years. Can't bear to get rid of the kid's gifts.

-He actually likes all of Sole's friends. Even Strong.

-Hates coconut. Once found an Almond-Joy while scaving and couldn't finish it to save his life.

-All time favourite candy is Peanut Brittle. Hard to find but gnawing on the hard chunks is somewhat soothing to him.

-Loves back rubs. Giving and receiving but only from close friends or lovers.

-Once accidently drank a bottle of perfume. MacCready told him it was a bottle of fancy expensive wine. 

-Sturges and Preston are the closest of friends, no less maybe more.

Strong

-Strong knows how to jump rope.

-But double dutch is a mystery.

-Before Sole, he only ate meat raw. Sole taught him how to cook it.

-Also lacks patience to cook, but slowly learning.

-Strong was created in Vault 87 after the bombs dropped but remembers nothing from being human.

-Doesn't understand bubblegum. Will always swallow it after a few seconds of chewing.

-Likes having poetry and plays read to him. 

-Sleeps holding Sole or having Sole laying across his stomach. 

-Loves fire. The smell, the feeling of heat against his hardened skin, the taste of charred meat, and watching the embers fly up and turn to ash.

-Strong can read, but chooses not to because super mutants discourage any educational behavior. 

-Likes the sound of clacking keys on a terminal. He'll turn one on and mess around with the keyboard just to hear the different sounds each key makes.

-He can't decide if hand-to-hand combat is better than using guns.

X6-88

-X6 doesn't like using plasma. He thinks the plasma is less accurate. 

-But laser weapons are his jam.

-Spends excessive amount of time augmenting his weapon. 

-If Sole helped, he would be "happy". Would never say it, but a tiny smirk would pop up on his face for half a second.

-Will collect Fancy Lad Snack Cakes. Hoards them in his bedroom in Sanctuary and in the Institute. 

-Sole found his stash and X6 blushed for the first time when they confronted him. 

-He called Sole "Mom" instead of Ma'am once. She won't let him live it down.

-He called Sole "Dad" after hearing Shaun call him "Dad" all day. He won't let him live it down.

-Actually likes kids. Won't show emotions, get down to their level, or speak to kids. But he doesn't hate children. 

-Especially likes synth Shaun. He taught synth Shaun how to use a laser pistol. Shaun found out and put X6 on probation for a month.

Bonus Vault Tec Rep and Kent Connolly under the cut.

Vault Tec Rep

-Rep spent a couple decades learning how to draw. Loves drawing from life. Mostly draws people. Occasionally draws ferals, mutants, and various animals.

-Was engaged before the war, lasted about 2 years before she died of cancer.

-His favorite food was and still is a well grilled medium rare steak.

-A total neat freak. Every space he uses as a homestead has to be thoroughly cleaned of any bacteria, ticks, dust, dirt, radiation residue, etc

-Teased in school for his red hair. "Rusty" was his least favorite nickname.

-He's extremely susceptible to pet names. Doesn't have to be anything sexual or romantic, just pet names. He blushes like a starstruck starlet.

-Loves love. Romance and old-timey corny love stories. He like to woo his partner. Flowers, chocolate, dancing, movie dates, hand written poems, you name it. 

-He misses his old red hair. Years of being a brunette and he's a little bitter about his hair.

-Least favourite part of The Wasteland is amount of bodies he sees on a daily basis. He saw about zero bodies a day on average before the war. Even in Goodneighbor, the average has risen to about 4 bodies a week. 

-Favourite part of The Wasteland is the ability to just go anywhere. After realizing he didn't have any obligation to stay any specific place, he just traveled around for a few decades.

-His father worked for Vault-Tec, and when he graduated high school, he was given a job immediately. 

-Didn't hate it. Didn't love it at first, but he had a real knack for selling.

-He never had an office in Boston HQ. He got the van, and got a sweet bonus for being top salesman, but never his own office. 

-Despite being top salesman, he was only allowed on the first and second floors. He didn't find out till after the bombs dropped that the basement and third floor up had the plans for the various vaults in the area.

-He can't apologize enough to Sole. After thinking on it and checking out vault 111 by himself, he truly feels sorry for what happened.

-Sole gets him a set of steak knives for Christmas. They're homemade by Sole. They tell him he's earned far more than a knife set, but if that's what he's pining for...

-He treasures it so much, he rarely uses them. Just before he leaves for work in the morning, he checks them over and admires them.

-He and Sole have spent days just telling each other pre war stories. He almost knows more about Sole than Piper does. And he's a little proud of that fact.

-He gets along best with, of all people, Deacon. Good sense of humour and always interested in pre-war info.

-Second best is Piper. A nice lady who snoops too much, but does treat everyone with respect and tries to remain unbiased.

Kent Connolly

-Kent was 23 when the bombs dropped.

-He was sleeping in on the Saturday morning when he heard the air raid sirens.

-Hid in his house's basement till the sirens stopped. 

-And then the radiation sickness took over. 

-It took him about 3 months to turn ghoulish. Quicker than most. 

-He dislikes Goodneighbor - the town as a whole. The people are fine, the resources are serviceable, and the safety assured is nice. But he hates how back alley it feels.

-Misses his family the most. They weren't the best, but they made him feel loved and important.

-Speaking of which, Kent had a huge family. I'm talking brothers, sisters, cousins for days, aunts, uncles...he remembers family reunions as huge gatherings chock full of food and kids running amuck.

-Maybe, just maybe, he enjoys seeing Sole all dressed like Shroud a little too much. He's a big fan.

-Once spent 4 grand on a mint condition Issue no. 3 Silver Shroud comic just to find out it was a forgery. Never got that refund. :(

-Writes really well. But only writes Silver Shroud fanfiction. Piper almost convinced him to help write an article about how crime differed before the war and after the war. But he turned her down.

-Nick has agreed to dress up as Shroud if Sole dresses up like Grognak or Mistress of Mystery. But only if Sole dresses up too.

-Irma refers to him as her son. Amari will not say the same, but she also doesn't protest.

-He used to work in comic book shop. (Of course he did.) 

-He writes self insert Silver Shroud fanfiction all the time. After the events at the hospital with Sinjin, the Shroud in his fanfictions suddenly start using Sole's pronouns and is described as physically similar as Sole.

[teecupangel]

I started via reply for @zero-saito but it got long and it pushed through @fanworldbuildingfun's ideas so here:

Yeah, Desmond is known as the best Assassin but he's such a doormat to Bill. People don't see it immediately because he's just so quiet and it's not like he's showing obvious signs like flinching when someone touches him.

But that's the thing, Desmond doesn't show anything because he's been told that he must not show any weakness. Any uncomfortable thing he feels, he just clamps it down and pretends it doesn't affect him. And, in some ways, leaning onto the Bleeds is just a way for him to change 'masters' so to speak.

He's been raised as a soldier and the big difference between him and Altaïr is that (as @fanworldbuildingfun said) Altaïr has a support system. Not only that, Altaïr grew up knowing what it's like to have a normal family too. He lost his father when he was eleven. Even if Umar was a distant father (although I hc him as a busy father who does try to make time for his son), he would still have nice memories of his father, most probably. Even if that's not true, Al Mualim treated him with kindness and patience which is the direct opposite of how Bill treated Desmond. Altaïr grew up knowing things could be better. Desmond grew up believing this is the life he is meant to have.

And that's the reason why everyone wouldn't agree at first to Clay's plan. He's letting his Bleeds decide everything but his Bleeds' first priority is Desmond's safety. Clay just told them to leave everything behind but this is everything Desmond knows.

Everything that Desmond has.

They rely on Desmond's status as the best Assassin to keep them informed and properly equipped to handle all situations. Any information they have come from Desmond and he's only given what Bill thinks he needs. Altaïr has just started checking the net for information and there's hella a lot.

They can't just give up everything without having a plan first.

But they don't say that out loud.

Of course not.

They didn't want to alienate Desmond even further, after all.

Not when Clay has other people helping him make this a reality.

So Connor and Ezio say 'maybe' but Altaïr is the one who says 'with conditions'. Altaïr is the one who tells Clay that they'll do it if Clay and his band of budding traitors can secure them the basic necessities of a Brotherhood:

A secured hideout

A secure way to have supplies and money they can use for their operations

At least a barebone network that will give them information and aid them with specialized equipment they may need

To be frank, they could do all that on the go if they need to but they needed to test Clay's commitment.

Everyone's commitment.

(Cue the most stressful days of Clay and his co-conspirators trying to complete all of Altaïr's demands like it's a limited event with special loot boxes)

@brandingbitches wanted to know about 11 from the List of AC Fic Ideas I have at the moment

11. Desmond didn't leave Farm

Instead of leaving, Desmond spends his entire life trying to be the Assassin Bill wants him to be. Lots of angst about how nothing he does will ever be enough and Desmond being more or less emotionless because showing emotion is a sign of weakness. (Bill's personal puppet)

Desmond being a successful Assassin but super isolated from the other Assassins. He only knows of Shaun via his reports and only gets emails from Rebecca of any tech related stuff for his missions. His only contact is Bill and he’s primarily used for the riskiest missions.

Including Clay’s retrieval mission.

Lucy tells Bill that Clay needs to be extracted but she thinks Vidic is on to her so Desmond gets them out.

It’s a trap to get him because of his genes but he manages to get Clay out first before he’s taken in.

(Think about: Knows Lucy traitor or not? Lucy still trying to play the ‘I’m on your side’ card)

Desmond is forced to relive Altaïr’s memories.

And he hates Altaïr.

Because Altaïr is everything Desmond couldn’t be (in his mind).

Altaïr is the son Bill would have been proud of.

Even if he was arrogant, Altaïr still manages to get the job done and his own father figure (Al Mualim) treats him more like a son than Bill does to Desmond.

Add scenes of Desmond comparing himself to Altaïr: born into the Brotherhood, trained early on, isolated from the other children due to their situation, known no other life than being an Assassin

Shit gets weird when Desmond has a severe Bleeding Effect and 'wakes' Altaïr up early because of how similar they are.

Cue reluctant allies type situation between the two as they try to plan their escape.

(That's the most I got. I don't even know if this one will go up to Ezio and Connor? I don't even know if this would be gen or not.¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Honestly, I got this idea because of how similar Desmond and Altaïr are and how Desmond would most probably be like a broken version of Altaïr if he had stayed on the Farm.)

[1984hater7]

So I'm working on like a whole ass essay about this book (and by that I mean I started and immediately lost motivation) so I'm just going to give you a nice little rant about Winston and Julia's relationship.

So in 1984 there are very clear black and white moral lines. Anything that aligns with the government is orthodox and portrayed as evil, while those who go against the rules are unorthodox and inherently good. Our main protagonist, Winston, does two main things that makes him unorthodox. He creates a diary explicitly stating his hatred for big brother, and he gets into a relationship with Julia.

Julia and Winston both work for the government and due to this status are explicitly prohibited from being together. This in turn makes their relationship an act of unorthodox rebellion. This idea of a forbidden romance being an act of defiance against a tyrannical government is pretty normal for a dystopian novel, however Winston and Julia's relationship isn't really all that romantic.

For starters the age gap between Winston and Julia is honestly very uncomfortable to read about. Julia is 26 while Winston is 39; a 13 year age gap. That being said they are both consenting adults so that in and of itself isn't the issue. A big issue I have is how Julia is often portrayed as even younger than she really is. While she's described as skinny yet curvy, part of what emphasizes her figure is the sash she ties around her waist. This sash reads "Junior Anti-Sex League". While I could make the argument that this sash in and of itself is uncomfortable, I just want to focus on the "Junior" part of the sash. Many of Julia's activities, such as the league, tend to portray her as a teenager. An argument could even be made that her personality play is to this as well. While Winston is "standing up for what's right" and "the last hope of humanity" Julia is simply rebellious.

---

"'I'm thirty-nine years old. I've got a wife that I can't get rid of. I've got varicose veins. I've got five false teeth.'

'I couldn't care less,' said the girl.

The next moment she was in his arms. At the beginning he had no feeling except sheer incredulity. The youthful body was strained against his own" ~ 1984

---

One of the biggest "twists" of the book is in the end when Winston and Julia betray each other. (Ha lol spoilers) The thing is any reader can see this "twist" from a mile away. Winton and Julia never really loved each other, they simply loved fucking each other. In their very first conversation they end up fucking and literally fuck every single time they see each other. Julia is never really interested in Winston's talk of rebellion and Winston quite frankly doesn't care all too much. Julia goes with Winston to join the brotherhood because she thinks it'll keep them close together. When asked what the one thing they wouldn't be willing to do for the brotherhood was, Julia's answer was fast and simple, she said she would never leave Winston. Winston has to think for a long moment before eventually agreeing. Julia never cared too much for the brotherhood, at least not in the way a revolutionary would. She cared about staying with Winston, and about sticking it to the man by fucking an older government worker.

---

"'You're only a rebel from the waist downwards,' he told her. She thought this brilliantly witty and flung her arms round him in delight." ~1984

---

Finally I'm going to leave you with this abomination of a quote because quite frankly this scene made me want to rip my eyeballs out and cry. If you know anyone who thinks Winston's a good character that's a red flag and honestly you should run for the hills while you have the chance.

---

"'Tell me, what did you think of me before that day I gave you the note?'

He did not feel any temptation to tell lies to her. It was even a sort of love offering to start off by telling the worst.

'I hated the sight of you,' he said. 'I wanted to rape you and then murder you afterwards. Two weeks ago I thought seriously about smashing your head in with a cobblestone'" ~1984

---

[pi-cat000]

FMA:B/BNHA Crossover (2)

Summary: Ed gets stuck in the BNHA world after the end of brotherhood. He starts trying to find a way home and ends up inadvertently working for the league of villains.

Part 1 here

..

..

At one point, the ground level of Ed’s building had probably been a nice-looking shopfront, maybe a flower shop or grocers or something more befitting this weird world…like a tech repair store.  Now, the ground level doubles as apartment space, large windows caked with dust and grime, curtains permanently drawn to hide its occupancy. Heck, if Ed hadn’t been around to fix the glass with alchemy the ground floor would have been pretty much unliveable. Like many buildings in the area, it was a victim of a villain/hero confrontation which always seemed to generate an obscene amount of property damage. Great for leveraging his repair skills in exchange for free accommodation and about nothing else. Not that the people here saw it as much of a problem.

Ed scowls, flipping his OPEN sign to CLOSED, yanking the door shut, locking up as he goes.

Ed doesn’t quite understand the whole thing, and he had had one of the worst track records for property damage when it came to state alchemists. The difference being that he had always returned to reverse as much of the alchemical damage as he could and if he couldn’t Mustang had some other military alchemist/personal waiting in the wings to see to the problem. Rebuilding here was the responsibility of some external agency or other. Ed is a little hazy on how the system was supposed to work, seeing as the military had little to no involvement with anything hero related. Though, considering how the Amestrian military had been in the process of feeding the souls of its citizens to a loosely defined truth God, maybe that was a good thing. Honestly, researching how this place ran its bureaucracy was low on his priority list.

“Hey! Ed! You’re out early? Off somewhere interesting?”  

“Did you see the guy who just came through here,” he asks, eyeing his fellow apartment-liver who seemed to have nothing better to do than loiter outside and yell at people on the street. The greasy-haired man is puffing smoke near the corner of the building with his two equally scruffy friends. They all have a physical abnormally, a lizard tail, claws, bulging eyes, that remind him uncomfortably of chimeras despite knowing it was a result of more quirk bullshit.

The guy blows smoke in his direction, “Big, tall dude? Pretty suspicious looking with the hood and all. I saw him go in. Didn’t see him leave …funny that.”

“Yeah…funny…” Ed mutters, “Did you recognise him?”

“I might have.”

Ed huffs, rolling his eyes and continues down the road. He would leave bribing his neighbours for possible information as a last resort.

He passes the vacant lot holding a near identical half-collapsed block, followed by another nicer looking building, then another, before they gave way to shops and smaller structures. That was something he was still getting used to…the sheer scale of the city. Even Central had barely been a quarter of this city’s size. Luckily, his destination isn’t too far so he doesn’t have to worry about getting lost.  

The building he arrives at is taller than the rest and full of office space. The main lift is out of order so Ed trudges up three flights of stairs to the top floor, stomping into the empty reception/waiting area only hesitating for a second before slamming his hand onto the bell sitting atop the front desk.

There is a muffled voice, “I’m coming. I’m coming. No need for that racket!”

The door behind the desk swings open.

“Edward?”

“Hey, old man,” he gives a small wave, “It’s been a few weeks.”

The man, tall, well-built, cropped brown hair, stares at Ed.

“Yeah it’s been a few weeks! You need to check your phone and answer your messages every now and then. You’re giving me grey hairs. More grey hairs!”

“Right…my phone….” He forgot he had it when not using it to help with navigation. Also, messaging was a pain. He had picked up the local spoken language fast enough out of necessity, but his reading and writing were still a work in progress. Lucky for him, this reality had a few languages similar enough to Amestrian that if he really wanted to read something he could get a translation. It still made written communication tricky.

“I'll try and check it more often," he placates, "I’m here for some information about a job I was offered and seeing you know a bunch of the local businesses I thought I would drop by.”

“Information?” Masao Uraraka lets out a long breath, “And there I went thinking that you were going to take me up on my apprenticeship offer.”

Ed shoves his hands into his pockets, shrugging. The older man grunts, “Well come on through. You’re lucky you caught me in the office. I’m usually on-site supervising about this time. But, can’t do much of that until those idiots at HC Construction.co get the go-ahead from their insurance company.”

Ed slips past and into a dimly lit office space which is surprisingly well organised. Across the wall is a collage of family photos, depicting a woman and young girl at various stages of growth.

“…that’s not your problem though. How have you been kid? Hope you haven’t been in too many fights.”

“Hey,” he objects, “Some idiots need a good punch,” and then adds a little less aggressively, “But no. No fights. I’ve been researching quirks....”

“Quirks. That’s different? Weren't you studying chemistry or something?”

Ed shrugs again, unwilling to divulge much else. Uraraka tended to be nosey out of some misguided notion that he could help Ed ‘get back on his feet’ after whatever tragic backstory he had cooked up for him.

“You’re still living at Old Man Watanabe’s right? He not pulling anything is he? Old coot always tries to weasel more out of his deals.”  

Ed can’t help but agree,  “He’s been trying to get me to re-wire the whole building. Nothing I can’t deal with.”

Of course, this just sets Uraraka off on a round of angry muttering, “Is that right? I can have a talk with him. I’ve told him that he needs an electrician and a proper plumber. He owes me a few favours so I can… ”

“It’s fine,” Ed quickly interrupts. Uraraka had his own problems and family to look after. The guy reminded him of Hughes in that he cared way too much. “One grumpy landlord isn’t worth worrying about.”

Uraraka visibly deflates, “Yes, well, most kids your age shouldn’t be worried about that sort of stuff at all. You should be finishing up your schooling, getting your Japanese up to scratch and studying for college entrance exams. You remind me of my daughter. Stubborn.” He pulls a framed photo from his desk, pointing it at Ed, shaking it for emphasis, “She wants to be a Hero you know. A HERO! Can you believe it! My cute little girl, getting into fights with villains.”

Ed clears his throat awkwardly. Yeah, this guy was definitely this world’s weird version of Hughes. If Hughes had worked in construction and had, you know, not died. This isn’t the first time he has had a picture of Ochako, Uraraka’s daughter, shoved in his face.

“About that information?” He cautiously interrupts and gets another sigh.

“Yes, yes. You kids are always so impatient. What’s this job then? What idiot is going around hiring 16-year-olds.”

“Actually, the guy that came in just mentioned some construction work,” Ed rubs his neck, now slightly subconscious, realising he doesn’t have a whole lot to go on, “he didn’t give me a lot of details, just left this.” Ed pulls out the envelope placing it on the desk next to the assortment of framed photographs and scribbly kid drawings.

With a raised brow, Uraraka pulls it towards him, peering in. The man’s eyes widen and he closes the envelope, frowning, “This supposed to be a down payment in advance of a job, or is it for material costs? Because it’s a bit much for a down payment and nowhere near enough for materials. Not if it’s for anything serious. What sort of work is it? You know I can’t lend you equipment without a licence…but I’ll help you source anything that you…”

“No,” Ed rushes to interrupt, “the guy said it was a sign of goodwill. I take it that’s not a normal thing people do in the, ah, construction business?”

“No. It definitely is not,” Uraraka now looks concerned, “there would usually be a contract for services before any sort of payment. Especially, if you’re going to be working as an independent contractor.”

So that just confirmed what he already knew. Ed continues, “So you haven’t heard about people asking around for under the table construction work then?”

“No. I can ask a few of my freelancers if they’ve had similar offers but I deal above the board with licenced workers only, so it’s unlikely they’ll have heard anything.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He glares at the envelope.

“What did he look like? This man that came in?”

“Oh, he was tall, made of dark purple smoke and had a teleportation quirk…I think. He also asked about my quirk and its limits.”

“I’ll keep an ear out.”  Uraraka promises and frowns at Ed, “I hope you’re not considering this offer.”

Ed grunts noncommittally and gets a look of disapproval that reminds him so much of Hughes its almost painful. He tries not to feel disappointed at the lack of answers because coming to Uraraka had always been a long shot. ‘You’re sad, lonely and the only conversations you’ve had this last week were yelling matches with your landlord and neighbours. Uraraka is a nice man. Of course, you would come to him for advice.’ A voice that sounds suspiciously like Al chimes in. ‘I don’t want him to worry. I’m not staying here long. What’s he going to think when I suddenly disappear,’ he snaps back and immediately feels foolish.

Maybe the isolation is getting to him a bit.

“If it's money you need that I’m more than happy to help you get licenced and certified…” Uraraka continues to talk oblivious to the fact that Ed is barely paying attention.

He doesn’t want to settle down and get a popper job or finish off his schooling or talk to youth services or whatever other things Uraraka had brought up in the few months they had known each other. That would be admitting defeat. Also, he had no ID or history and he was pretty sure you needed both to work any legitimate jobs.

“I can handle myself,” he says out loud.

“Yes, you’re worryingly self-sufficient but there is a difference between unlicensed quirk use and aiding and abetting criminals. No self-respecting, above board, organisation hires a kid to do construction work and throws a bunch of money at them.”

“I know.”

Yeah, he knows Tall-Dark-and-Mysterious was probably a criminal of this reality. He knows he is probably getting himself into something dicey and illegal but he needs to follow whatever lead he can to get back home. Finding a quirk with either the ability to transport him between realities or one with the power equivalent to a few thousand souls was his last hope of ever hearing Al's, the real Al’s, voice again.

The older man rubs his forehead, visibly exasperated, “But you’re going to ignore me. Stubborn brat.”

[anna-justice]

Superman - Part 2

PART 1

Summary: Jay and Hailey are a part of an officer involved shooting, the aftermath puts Hailey in a very dangerous situation, causing her and Jay’s lives to be at risk. (Pre-Established Upstead) 

...

Jay rolled over, groaning as he reached for his phone. He shut the alarm off quickly, turning back over to and reaching across the bed. His hand hit the cold mattress, waking him up. Jay laid flat on his back, running his hand over his face. He groaned again, the pit in his stomach growing at his own stupidity. It was the first time in a week that he had woken up alone, and for a minute he had forgotten that he was back to reality.

He reluctantly threw the covers off, immediately missing the warmth, but it wasn’t quite as warm as it had been the day before. The walk to the kitchen was dark and lonely, Jay squinting as he flipped on the lights as he went. When he reached his small kitchen he sighed, trying not to think about the empty coffee pot. Yesterday it would have been full. He filled the filter and turned it on before turning and heading back to his bedroom. 

He pushed the bathroom door open, ignoring his depressed look in the mirror. He turned on the water in his single stall shower, not taking notice of the lack of products on the rack. Jay ran a hand through his tousled hair, he needed to get himself together.

After the safehouse was broken into, he and Hailey were moved to a new one. They insisted Jay be put in protective custody as well, since he was now a (potential/connected) victim of the hit list. He insisted they be placed together and Hailey didn’t object, the lead detective on their case obliged and soon they were sitting together on a different uncomfortable couch. 

The entire experience was surreal to say the least, it felt like living in an alternate reality. They fell into a routine almost. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them: they would sleep in the same bed, wake up in each other’s arms, Hailey would make coffee, Jay would make breakfast and neither of them said a word. Why would they? It was easy, it felt natural and it was perfect. 

So, for a week the two of them played house while their team worked on taking down the brotherhood, and most importantly the post that put a bounty on his partner’s head. The day before they had finally caught a break in the case, finding the chain that led to the Kingpin and the owner of the chat. After a long interrogation, they had enough to charge and enough to solve multiple other cold cases in the area, and the post was taken down. 

Once their lives were no longer in danger, Jay and Hailey were released from protective custody and sent home to their own separate houses. Jay drove her back to the bar where it all started, her car was still there. They bid goodbye in the parking lot, Hailey giving him a kind smile before climbing in her car. It felt so wrong after a week of living the way they were. 

The cold water pulled him out of his trance, Jay shivered, shutting it off and reaching for his towel. Soon he was all ready for work, grabbing his keys and high tailing it out of his lonely apartment. He cursed himself for getting so attached, for getting used to their new dynamic. Because nothing had changed, it wasn’t real and now, it was over.

... 

Hailey was already awake when her alarm went off. She was sitting on her couch, a freshly brewed cup of coffee in her hand. She hadn’t slept well the night before. Her insomnia set in at around 3:00 that morning, and she had come to terms with the fact that a good amount of rest was a lost cause. 

She hit the button glowing on the screen, tossing her phone on the coffee table in front of her. For a second she waited for the familiar sound of shuffling feet, but then remembered her lack of sleep. She slept alone last night, or more like didn’t. Before the past week, it had been a long time since she woke up tangled with someone else, but she had no doubt that her return to a normal sleep schedule was a product of just that. 

Hailey stood, padding into her kitchen to get another cup of coffee…

“You good?” Jay asked from his perch on a barstool. If Hailey had a dime for everytime he had asked her that in the past few days, they’d be hiding out on a yacht. 

Hailey nodded, picking up the coffee pot and refilling her mug. “Yeah, why?” She asked, turning around to lean against the counter opposite of him. 

Jay grinned, gesturing to the cup in her hand. “That’s your third cup this morning.” 

“You keeping tabs on my coffee intake?” Hailey teased, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Jay stood, laughing. He made his way to the sink beside her, dropping it in. “Maybe. You don’t need it stunting your growth.”

Hailey’s jaw dropped, a laugh bellowing out of her. She slapped his bicep (taking note of how much her hand stung afterward: damn) as he lept away, he knew what was coming. “You better sleep with one eye open tonight.” Jay held up his hands in surrender, backing away slowly. “I’m serious.”

She leaned against the counter, smiling to herself. That was how the whole week had gone, jokes, banter and lots of cuddling. If there was a line before, it was now so blurred that it might be broken. They were inseparable, you would think that being stuck in a house with someone for a week would make you want to kill each other, but not them. The only time either of them were truly alone was when they were in the bathroom. And even then, the amount of times one of them snuck in to get something while the other one was showering was unreal. 

Hailey cautiously approached the bathroom door, grimacing to herself as she knocked. “Jay.” She called, hand on the handle.

“Yeah.” He shouted over the running water, it was much louder than it needed to be and Hailey chuckled to herself. 

“Can I come in? I need my meds, I left them on the counter.” She asked.

“Sure.” He said. Hailey felt flushed as she pushed the door open, steam filling the bedroom. It clicked behind her and even though there was a curtain covering him, Hailey avoided looking towards the shower at all. She made it to the vanity, rummaging through her toiletry bag and ignoring how red her face was in the mirror. 

There was a thud, the noise of lots of water hitting the shower floor. Hailey’s mind wandered to what could’ve made the noise, the image of him running his hands through his wet hair as water cascaded around him gracing her mind. Hailey wasn’t paying attention, causing her to knock her bag as well as his shaving cream to the floor. “Shit.” She muttered.

“Hailey.” He said, “You good?” He asked, she looked up from her crouching position on the floor to see him poking his head and one shoulder out. She froze, her eyes trained on the droplets of water sitting where freckles normally were.

“Yeah.” She said, jumping up clutching his shaving cream. “Uh, this fell.” 

Jay eyed her funny, “Okay.” Hailey didn’t move. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Hailey nodded, “See you then.” She turned and grabbed her medicine, booking it out of there.

She splashed some cold water on her face after brushing her teeth, she needed to snap out of it. Of course, the whole situation was disorienting. She had admitted a long time ago that she had feelings for her partner, or at least she admitted them to herself. And after the week they had, she thought maybe he felt the same way, but he never said anything. He said everything else, they talked so much, they both opened up so much, but he kept his mouth shut about that.

She even gave him a chance. It was a few days in and they were laying in bed. She was facing him, laying on her arm. There were several feet between them, but she could still feel the heat radiating off of him. 

Hailey watched Jay roll onto his back, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry.” He groaned out, looking at her with a sad look. 

Hailey shifted, leaning on her elbow. “For what?”

Jay sighed, “Dumping all this on you. You didn’t sign up for me complaining about my ex for an hour.” They had both decided they were tired, even if it was only 9:00, but once their heads hit the pillow all they could do was laugh, and they were both wide awake. Teasing had turned to talking, which led to Hailey attentively listening to Jay finally open up about his relationship with Erin. 

She reached out, placing her hand over his as it rested on his stomach. Jay watched her cautiously, noticing as she moved closer to him. “Jay.” She said, “I am here for you. If you ever want to talk, I will always want to listen.” 

He smiled at her, “I know.” He squeezed her hand. “Me too.” 

Hailey rolled onto her back beside him, only turning her head to face them. “I didn’t know any of that.” She confessed, “About Lindsay, I mean. I knew you guys had broken up, but no one ever mentions it.” 

Jay nodded, “Yeah. It’s kind of one of those things we all ignore. It’s been so long.” He turned his head to face her. “You know, nothing good ever comes out of a workplace relationship.” 

Hailey faked a smile, turning away. A week ago she would have agreed with him, she would have just let it go. But laying next to him, feeling what she felt, she couldn’t. “Not always.” She said. “Maybe, if two people are just...right for each other, it doesn’t matter the circumstances.” She took a risk and looked over at him, surprised to find his gaze on her, a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Hailey shrugged on her jacket, grabbing her keys off the hook by the door. She gathered her things and headed out the door, and she felt like she was going back in time.

…

Hailey pulled into the parking lot, spotting Jay’s truck immediately (not that she was looking for it). It was odd that he ever beat her there, he must have been having a good morning. She headed inside, hoping to brush past their jem of a desk sergeant. “Hey blondie.” Mission failed.

“Hey serge.” Hailey said, stopping at the base of the stairs. She gave her a pointed look. 

Trudy shrugged, “Oh nothing. Just glad to see you survived a week trapped with chuckles.” She said, smirking. 

Hailey shook her head, before heading up the stairs. “Barely.” She said over her shoulder, which was bullshit, but Trudy didn’t know that. She buzzed herself up, climbing the stairs quickly. It felt good to be back, being off duty was never fun. Her eyes met Jay’s immediately and he gave her a bright smile that she quickly returned. 

“Good to see you Hailey.” Kim said, interrupting their wordless conversation. 

Hailey nodded, “You too, I’m glad to be back.” Kevin looked up from his desk, reaching out and fist bumping her she walked by, while Adam gave her a short wave from the breakroom. “Hey.” she said quietly as she reached her desk, taking a seat in front of her partner.

“Hey.” Jay said, lifting a cup of coffee over their monitors. “Here.” 

Nothing has changed.

Hailey smiled, taking the cup graciously. “Just so you know, this is only my fourth cup today.” 

“Hailey.” Jay said, shaking his head. “You have a problem.”

Hailey laughed, holding a finger to her lips and making a “shhh” sound. A second later, Voight exited his office. “Upton,” He said, “Glad to have you back.” 

“Glad to be back.” She said, settling in her seat. 

Jay watched her, back in her natural habitat. It was strange watching her walk in, it seemed to always be him that was the last one up, but he couldn’t complain. He loved watching her blonde ponytail swing as she walked, he loved watching how naturally she floated through the room. 

They spent the next ten minutes being caught up on the current take home case, this one being a series of drug overdoses. Jay had a CI he thought was connected and had gotten the go ahead from Voight to chase the lead. He was about to tell Hailey, but Adam beat him to it. 

“Hey Hailey.” He called across the room, approaching their desks. 

Hailey looked up, “Yeah.” 

“You remember that warehouse we searched once? Found the kilo of heroin? You called dispatch, do you remember the address?” He asked. 

Hailey nodded. “Yeah.” Adam started again, but Hailey held up a finger and grabbed a sticky note from the corner of her desk. She stood slightly, reaching over Jay’s monitor and grabbing a pen out of his holder. She scribbled down the address and handed it to him. “Go check it out with Kev.” She said. 

Jay smirked, watching Adam thank you and then retreat to his own desk. 

Nothing has changed.

“Wanna go meet a CI with me?” He asked, standing. 

Hailey jumped up immediately, “Of course.” 

…

It was a long day, they chased lead after lead that basically went nowhere. Finally, Voight decided they weren’t getting anywhere and sent everyone home. Hailey collapsed on her couch at almost eleven, debating just sleeping there. She was exhausted. 

The day had been emotionally draining as well, she spent the whole day convincing herself that her and Jay were fine, and while they most definitely were, there was a little voice in the back of her head that was telling her she had ruined everything. She had never felt more insecure in her life. 

Maybe hearing about Erin was part of it. Within’ Intelligence, the only time she was spoken of was when they were all reliving their greatest hits. Like the time they pulled off a drug bust and destroyed an OT pickup or the time she saved Jay from a heavy hitter with only a polypropylene switchblade, she was a total badass. That wasn’t a secret, and Hailey had never felt like she had to live up to her memory. 

But now she knew a different side of her, she knew how deeply Jay had loved her and how much it had destroyed him. How could she ever expect him to put himself on the line like that again, for his partner none-the-less. 

The doorbell rang, pulling her from her thoughts. She smiled as she pushed herself off the couch, there was only one person who would show up this late unannounced. She pulled the door open, immediately meeting his bright green eyes. He held up a pizza box, “I figured you hadn’t eaten.” 

“My hero.” She said, stepping back to let him in. 

Jay laughed, heading straight for the living room. Hailey stopped in the kitchen to grab plates and beers. She made it in time to watch him fall back onto the couch. He sighed dramatically, “I’ve missed you.” He said, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. 

Hailey chuckled, settling in next to him. “Feels good to be home, doesn’t it?” She asked.

Jay flattened his cheek against the couch to look at her. “Yeah.” He wanted to say no, that it felt good to be there, because home was wherever she was, but he kept his mouth shut. He had thought back to their conversation a few nights before many times, he read between all the lines, replayed the words over and over again. And he was almost convinced she was talking about them, but here they were several days later and nothing had changed. 

Had it though? He caught himself today, smiling a little bigger, laughing a little louder, he felt lighter. Like he was riding a high, a Hailey high and he couldn’t complain. 

Hailey stood, grabbing her already empty beer bottle. “You want another?” She asked, heading towards the kitchen. 

“No.” Jay said, “thanks though.” He took a beat. “Actually,” He stood, following her into the other room. “I wanted to talk to you about something-'' He had barely gotten the words out and there was a loud pop, it sounded just like a gunshot.

Before she knew it, Hailey was on the ground on her back, Jay laying on top of her. “This feels familiar.” She said, trying to lighten the mood. Jay looked up at her, fear showing clearly in his eyes. Hailey immediately softened, reaching out on instinct to cup his face. “Jay, it was just a car backfiring.” 

She watched it click, his face contorting from fear to pure panic. Jay scrambled off her, “Sorry, habit.” He said shyly. He wanted to eat his own foot, he had just tackled her to the ground for no reason and she was being so understanding, it felt like his heart was being out of his chest. 

“It’s fine, really.” Hailey said, genuinely. “As far as bad habits go, instinctively saving people’s lives isn’t a terrible one.” 

Jay smirked, “We already established that I’m a superhero.” 

Hailey grimaced, “I was hoping I dreamt that.” 

Jay shook his head, “Nope, it happened.” He stood, holding out a hand for her. “Talk about an ego boost.” 

Hailey took his hand, “Happy to help.” When she was fully standing up, she couldn’t help but notice how close she was to him. She peered up at him, finding that he was already watching her, he squeezed her hand gently, showing he had no intention of letting it go. “What did you want to talk about?” She asked, trying to keep her cool.

Jay’s confident facade cracked and crumbled in front of her. “Uh, nothing. It wasn’t important.” He said, dropping her hand and taking a step backward. 

Hailey groaned internally, she was so sick of this. They always came so close and then one of them would get scared, she couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m right.” She said softly. “I know I am, if two people are right for each other-” She took a breath, no more games, no more riddles. “If two people are as good together as we are, then nothing else matters.” 

Jay looked at her in shock, she was saying everything he was waiting to hear and part of him was mad at himself making her say it first. “We’re really good together.” She sighed out.

“Yeah.” Hailey said, Jay closed the gap between them, capturing her lips with his. Hailey reacted by grabbing his neck and pulling him closer. Jay’s arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her onto the counter. Hailey wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. 

Jay eventually pulled away, breathless. “Look, you're finally as tall as me.” He said. Hailey rolled her eyes, pushing on his chest, but Jay grabbed her waist, holding her firmly against him. He leaned again, this time kissing her so slow that it was almost painful. 

Hailey bit her lip, “I wish I would have said something a week ago, being trapped in a house together would have been much more interesting.” 

“Yeah.” Jay said, smirking. “You would have been gawking at me from inside the shower instead of outside of it.” 

Hailey blushed, looking down at their intertwined hands. “You’re terrible.” 

“You love it.” He said casually. Hailey’s head snapped up, waiting for him to apologize or back away, she was ready for such a strong word (no matter how much she felt it) to screw this up before it started. Jay caught on, cupping her cheek gently. “Not as much as I love you.” 

Hailey swore she stopped breathing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Hailey wasted no time smashing her lips to his, letting her fingers get tangled in his hair. She drug her lips from his to his ear. “I love you too.” Jay grinned against her cheek, pulling her back to his lips. “You wanna try tackling me to the floor again?” She asked, smirking.

“Yes.” He said immediately, pulling her off the counter. Hailey laughed as he lowered them, looks like she wasn’t waking up alone tomorrow and she couldn’t be happier. 

…

A/N: You ask and you shall receive! This one kinda got away from me to be honest, and I have no idea where it fits in the timeline (maybe post new york but pre season 8?), so there’s that. Thanks for reading! <3

[m-y-fandoms]

Mondo Oowada x an effeminate male S/O

Request: Oml heyyy may I request a Mondo x male! S/O (imagine or headcanons i don't really know the difference dkfjlds) where the s/o is very feminine and tries to get Mondo to do feminine things? Painting nails, etc.

Of course! This was gonna be a head canon post but I just kept writing so I turned it into an imagine. The bullet points were getting too long LMAO, but it does include some personal headcanons throughout. And thank you for giving me my first ever request! Means the world to me! - Mod Kokichi

Imagine below the keep reading cut! SFW and no spoilers included~

     Your first day at Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Tailor, you got teased a bit. It was inevitable. You were the new transfer student, fresh meat to pick on, and you were a dude in a skirt, a doubly enticing threat to bullies. Immature high-schoolers were always going to whisper and glare at the ones willing to step outside the norm.

     On one of your first days there, during a particularly ruthless bullying session, the school’s hall monitor and student council president, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, stepped in after noticing the noise, breaking up the situation by standing between you and your oppressors.

     “Bullying is not supported in this progressive and nurturing school environment!” Taka’s loud and volatile personality always made quick work of the school’s trouble-makers. He spun quickly around to you, inviting you to spend lunch at his table for your trouble.

     You hesitantly agreed, but were glad you did in the end. That day, you met Taka’s best friend, Mondo Owada, a toothpick between his teeth and his feet kicked up onto the lunch table as he fixed his perfectly styled hair.

     You immediately found him extremely attractive: the sharp jaw, the bit of chest hanging out the top of his tank top. Quickly, you fell into their little friend group full of excitable and extroverted men. There were random stragglers to your lunch table on certain days, with Akane and Shuichi tagging along occasionally, but the main staples that ate with you every single day were Fuyuhiko, Mondo, Taka, Kaito, and Nekomaru, subconsciously scaring away anyone who wanted to start shit.

     You weren’t nearly as close to the rest of them as you were with Mondo, however. You often found yourself leaning against his chair, sharing your packed lunch with him, entranced when he laughed.

    He found himself always hanging out with you, shootin’ the breeze, smoking up on the roof after classes, putting his hand around your shoulder when you told a joke that made him and Taka crack up at lunch. He kept many secrets of yours, and promised to take them to his grave.

     When you came out to him as someone who likes men, he stuttered his response a little, but pulled it together.

     “It takes a real man to admit what his heart’s feelin’, S/O, you can be sure your secret’s safe with me until you’re ready to tell everyone else.” Feeling the atmosphere become awkward out there alone on the rooftop, he quickly changed the subject “So, Ultimate Tailor, huh? Shit’s pretty sick. Seen some of your clothing designs out in the art wing’s showcase. Don’t tailors just tighten up and fix a person’s clothes, though?” You smiled at his interest in your field.

     “Uh, yeah, normally I think they take in and size up clothes, b-but,” you put a hand to the back of your neck, nervous with his complete attention on you, “ I think some make designs from scratch, I have always loved making my own clothes. Maybe I should just be the Ultimate Fashionista instead of Enoshima…” you giggled, feigning envy humorously. Mondo smirked.

   “Yeah, maybe you should. You gotta design me a new coat sometime. This one’s seen better days.” You both looked at the dirt caked at the bottom of his coat, permanent stains throughout, and loose threads hanging in random places.

     “F-for sure!” You grinned.

     Your days returned to normal, lunch together and group hangouts after school, but something was different...to Mondo at least. He had to admit, to himself only of course, that he felt a little jealous of you. You could just come out and tell him who you are inside. He could never be that open. He usually was the one keeping secrets, not expressing them. But then, he caught himself. Why should he feel jealous...he was a simple guy, he didn’t even have any secrets or desires to share, even with who would listen. He brushed it off as just his normal hot-headed mindset, and packed up his stuff in his bag for the day.

     But the next few days, his eyes would linger on you even more, and he would become uncomfortable, his insides warm, his head clouded with that same envy tugging at his heart strings. In the hallway after last period, he kicked his locker, frustrated at this knot in his head and mind. What the fuck is up with him. Then it clicked…

     “It takes a real man to admit what his heart’s feelin’.”

     The next day, he pulled you out to the rooftop, his cheeks red and his heart beating wildly. You waited patiently, sitting down, figuring you were just in for another hang out session like usual, and pulled out your homework from third period, until he began to speak.

     “L-look man, I have been thinkin’, ever since you told me you’re into dudes…”

     Oh no...your head dropped expectantly. You felt like this was bound to come eventually, no matter what. He was this macho dude and hung around you all the time. It must be bothering him, ruining his rep-

     “That shit takes heart, like I said before, and I owe you my truth too, r-right, since you trusted me with yours?” He startled you, looking for validation. Mondo only stuttered when he was pissed and screaming, but he looked nervous now, a look of begging to be understood that you empathized with all too well.

     “I…” he looked out over the roof. Stop being a little bitch, Mondo, he seethed internally. “Fuck, I don’t know, man. I like you? I want us to be more than just friends. I mean, you’re cool as my bro, but…” He didn’t expect you to reach out and take his hand hesitantly, his cheeks flushing. You didn’t want his evident struggle to drag out until he blew a fuse.

     “I think that sounds ‘sick’ ” you mused, taking up one of his favorite sayings. He nodded, a arm around your shoulder, unable to look you in the eyes. But he felt a wave of peace run over him.

     Your close friends immediately picked up on this new relationship, seeing you lean on Mondo a little harder at lunch, Mondo’s blush as he rested his hand on yours over the table. Nekomaru slapped your shoulder loudly that first day as a new couple, almost shattering the bone there. He laughed, saying he couldn’t wait for you two to just finally admitted your feelings. A team works smoother when everyone is on the same page, after all.

     Weeks passed, and inside school, there was little issue. It’s the 21st century. Most were accepting of your obvious relationship. Those bigots who weren’t didn’t try anything. No stupid ass student was picking on a dude with Mondo, Taka, Fuyuhiko, Kaito and Nekomaru at his back.

     The problems started to arise when Mondo took you on rides on his bike, to his gang’s HQ or stomping grounds in general. That was the outside world, not an institution of modern and formal learning like Hope’s Peak. Japan itself was a little behind western society in terms of LGBT acceptance, and like the rest of the world, had a long ways to go.

     With Mondo being the leader of a biker gang, a setting known for violence, masculinity, grit, toughness, and a yakuza-like brotherhood of men, it just wasn’t an environment most conducive to openly gay relationships, but no one in the gang dared to call out Mondo, knowing how hot-headed he is and ultimately respecting him as their leader. They owed him unconditional loyalty.

     That was, until one day, a rather cheeky second-in-command saw you filing your nails, sitting in Mondo’s lap on a couch at HQ, and decided he’d had enough. He confronted you both in front of everyone, all eyes on you, making you shrink back into Mondo’s chest.

     “Eh, boss. If you’re gonna have a dude in a fucking dress doin’ his nails and twirling like a princess on your dick, why not just date a chick? This is gettin’ a little embarassin.” He spoke angrily. Mondo was taken aback, not used to being challenged by his men, obviously the alpha of his pack. He paused, struggling to find a response.

     “What’s the fuckin’ issue?! Like most of you idiots aren’t so close that you might as well be tuggin’ each other’s dicks anyway!” He spat defensively, refusing to take back talk from a subordinate. He looked down to your shaking form in his lap, seeing that you were obviously disappointed with his response and looked up at him with a bit of anger, tears at the corner of your eyes.

Why was he defending his rep, and attacking the man back? He should be defending the relationship, and pushing forward acceptance. It made you feel like he wasn’t proud of you, ashamed of what you two had become.

     He saw this in your eyes and hated himself, changing his stance quickly. He scooped you up from under your thighs from his lap and set you on the couch beside him. He stood, stepping up to the out-of-line gang member, chest out, looking down on him with malice.

     “Maybe you’ve forgotten your place, yeah? You forget who’s in charge? I’m involved with S/O, he’s with me, so he’s part of the gang. You’re gonna accept that, or there’s gonna be trouble to deal with, got me? What, you such a pussy that you can’t accept shit if it ain’t what you expect it to be?!” The second-in command cowered, breaking eye contact with Mondo, and the rest of the onlooking members returning to what they were doing. “Now, we got any other issues?”

     When Mondo drove you home on his bike hours later, you sat behind him as always, but squeezed onto his waist a little tighter than usual, and his heart beat proudly, knowing for once he was sure he did the right thing. You two rode silently, you pecking his cheek before slipping inside your house. He walked back to his bike, blushing like mad, and you two texted all night.

     The very next week, Mondo was over at your house for the first time, doing homework in your room. Well, that’s what you were supposed to be doing. Mondo wasn’t exactly the model student, much the the chagrin of his best friend Taka, and you just weren’t in the mood. And so you sat, him eating some chips from your pantry, watching you paint your nails on your bed, a towel to catch loose drips under your flattened out palm. You looked up to him, smiling at having his full attention on you as per usual when you were alone..

     “Want me to paint yours next?” It just slipped out. You didn’t really mean it. A guy like Mondo wouldn’t want that, surely, but you figured it wouldn’t harm to tease him. To your surprise, he responded rather quickly.

     “I seen Kaito walkin’ around this week with that shit on his nails. Maki apparently forced him to after he lost a bet to her. Didn’t look that bad, actually. Kinda looked sick with his jacket, all purple and shit,” he paused to think, “ fuck it, sure. But no pastel shit, yeah?” Your heart leapt with excitement. There’s no way you expected him to answer in a positive manner, but in this relationship, you quickly learned that you often underestimated Mondo, and let his macho-biker-gang persona leave you biased. You didn’t want people judging you by your sexuality or the eyeliner you wore, and suddenly felt hypocritical for ever pre-judging your big motorcylce-head of a boyfriend.

     Mondo held his hands out after you finished, observing the slick coat of black polish that covered his once grisly and battered nails. Yes, you had to manicure them real quick to even get the polish to stick. They had dirt under them and the cuticles were disgusting.

     “Hell yeah.” he simply spoke, smirking before pulling you in to lean on him as you finally pulled out your homework.

     Weeks turned into months, and soon Mondo was watching you get your ears pierced again in a new place, then sitting in the chair to get his done. He took you, in turn, to get “ink that matched your bitchin’ sense of style” as he put it. The tattoo didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, and certainly inspired you to design clothes that showed it off and accentuated it.

[tolcnsky]

SO

Re-watching X Men: Evolution as an adult who is pushing 30 was pretty eye-opening for me, and not just because I now know that high school is not nearly that exciting and that basically everyone in that show was out of dress code all the time. The two big things that I noticed this time around both have to do with Professor X and his Institute.

Let’s just say the man has a very “hands-off” method of dealing with children, which leads to problems, but also (and I’m just speculating here): I think Professor X doesn’t take on poor kids? Like, does the Institute have a tuition fee? Because I couldn’t help but notice that all of the kids in the Brotherhood, with the possible exception of Pietro and Wanda (does Magneto Money convert to American dollars?), are not well off.

And I’m not trying to find fault with our favorite Bald-Ass MotherFucker (the BAMF, as I have suddenly decided to call him), but I call it like I see it and unfortunately what I see of his attitude toward The Brotherhood is…let’s say it’s not what you would want in someone whose life’s pursuit is to help and educate children.  And in this show, The Brotherhood are, you know, children. I know any teenage readers may disagree with me on this point, but it’s true. The oldest among them is maybe eighteen, and the youngest is fourteen or fifteen, so they are no more mature or capable of making decisions than any of the show’s protagonists.

As an example, let’s look at Todd, whom Professor X tests in the very first episode in…honestly a really weird and deceptive way, by having him fight his other new student, Kurt, and giving neither of them a heads up about what the hell is going on. Then, when this (again) young kid flees in terror after being accidentally teleported into the room full of lasers and saws, aptly called the “Danger Room”, BAMF’s just like: ah well, he wasn’t ready.

WHO could have been ready for THAT? Also, is not being good at fighting really a good reason to not accept someone to your school where you’re going to teach them to fight anyway? You couldn’t take him aside like a normal person and go: hey, here’s what we’re about at the Institute... Nope, just send Storm at him with no context, that works. Oh, well, at least it was nice of the Professor to stop Wolverine from mercilessly shredding a fleeing teenager with his knife hands, right?

And then, just to pour salt in the wound, in the final episode of the first season, when Todd actually does prove his skills in combat by doing more than about half the core group of X Men did in the same episode, Professor X is like: Alex (who almost got us all killed just now) is always welcome at the Institute 😊 Oh, hey, The Brotherhood, do you kids need a ride back to your dilapidated house, where you live with no adult supervision*, or do you think you can walk home from here?

Now, I’m not saying that our dear BAMF doesn’t care about The Brotherhood, but I am saying that his hands-off approach to teaching valuable life lessons is, uh….well it just sucks.

His problem with these kids seems to be that they lack discipline, have attitude problems**, are just annoying etc. but, my man, is that not why you keep Wolverine around? To be an authority figure? I know you want to value these teens’ autonomy but I think their well-being should outweigh that. At a certain point you should really insist that they have somewhere safe to live that has things like *checks notes* uh, food and running water. Good thing you let them make their own decisions, Professor!

For real, can you imagine being any of Tabitha’s family who aren’t her jailbird dad and calling to check in and finding out that she got upset and ran away to live unsupervised with four teenage boys and this BAMF just let her do it?? I would lose my shit and no amount of calm assurances that it was her decision would make me not lose my shit. The point here being that there is a vast difference between encouraging kids to make informed decisions/allowing them to have agency, and allowing them to make decisions that have potential to ruin their life or, at the very least, make their life much more difficult than it would be if you were to say: “we can talk about your problems and work them out, you don’t have to live in a house where the water gets shut off.”

  Yeah, did I mention that the water at the boarding house gets shut off at one point? It happens one time but I think it’s worth mentioning because it joins my two points. The first point being what I just said about Professor X being lackadaisical when it comes to the well-being of minors (who he deems too irresponsible to join the X Men, but apparently not too irresponsible to look after themselves), and the second point being: hey, Professor. Do you accept poor kids?

You thought I wasn’t going to come back to this point, well you were wrong, here it is!

In the show, it’s kind of a running joke that Todd has bad personal hygiene (especially in the first episode) and from a storytelling perspective this is to establish that he’s a sleazy type of character. However, there’s never really an in-universe explanation given and, as an adult pushing 30, I am left to assume that he’s been living below the poverty line, as I feel most of the Brotherhood have been. As a kid watching the show, I was just like: lol smelly, but as an adult who spent a lot of time growing up hanging out with kids like Todd who would wear the same clothes every day and rarely bathed because they came from less than ideal living situations, I have a perspective that the show’s target audience doesn’t have. Which makes Professor X’s apparent disregard for the Brotherhood troubling to me.

Now, you might be thinking: it’s not that deep. The Brotherhood is dirty and their house is a wreck and they don’t pay the bills because they’re just bad people,right? To which I say: that’s actually a worse interpretation, but it’s also what we’ve been trained to believe by the media we consume.

And I want to make it known that I’m not blaming the writers of the show or saying they’re bad or the show is bad, I obviously don’t believe that. I think it’s complacency rather than spite that has allowed this trope to endure so long. Poverty is uncomfortable to talk about, especially in a reasonably light Saturday morning show, so tv and movies have a habit of framing poverty as a personal failure of the people it affects. It’s not that these kids live incredibly difficult lives because of any tragedy of failure of the system, it’s just that they make bad choices and it’s their fault.

And if that’s how you engage with this show and interpret its characters, that’s fine, they’re not real people. However, I would like to caution everyone reading this to be critical of this trope when it shows up and not to let it affect your perception of real life and real people who actually are suffering, not through any moral failure on their part, not because they’re the “bad guys”, but because they’ve been abandoned by an unfair system, or they’ve fallen on hard times and been unable to find support.

And I guess that’s really what kind of bothered me in my recent re-watch of the show: that Professor X is someone who is fully capable of giving much needed support to kids with hard lives, but doesn’t do it because he hopes that leaving them to make uninformed decisions before their brains are even finished developing will somehow build their character.

* Even when she’s around, Mystique does not count as “adult supervision”; if anything she’s the reason these kids need therapy

**And by the way, I question the decision to look at Lance, an aggressive teen with dangerous earthquake powers and be like: that problem will solve itself if we ignore it.

[firewoodfigs]

Summary: Roy thought this was fine. Perfectly acceptable, in fact. Stolen, furtive kisses over daybreak and evening-time tasting of ginger tea and caffeine; the occasional quiet embrace or two filled with warmth and suppressed ardour. Little indulgences like these were enough to keep them hanging on to each other, to their shared resolve.

“... her eyelids flutter, her breath hitches, and Roy thinks there’s nothing more exquisite than the taste of her. Her morning coffee lingers within. Two spoonfuls of sugar, but it is the indiscernible hum in her throat that sweetens the kiss.”

(for @royaiweek day 5: picture prompt - lovers at sunset; part 6 of Royai Week 2020. thank you mods for the wonderful week! 💕)

~x~

It happened once, on Miss Hawkeye’s thirteenth birthday. Roy had overheard from some of her peers as he was making his way back from a trip to the nearby grocer’s that it was that strange girl’s birthday, and did you see, she didn’t receive any presents - does she even have any friends?  

In truth, it wasn’t difficult to figure out why she was friendless. From the little time he’d spent with her in the Hawkeye’s manor she wasn’t the nicest person around. Roy had tried to approach her a few times in the spirit of the good Samaritan, but any attempts at friendliness had been met with hostility. Like that one time he saw her swinging alone on the makeshift swing in their backyard. He had offered to push her on the swing, but she’d pushed him in the chest instead before disappearing back to her room. Or the other time he’d offered to help her with her chemistry homework when he saw her struggling with a permanent scowl etched on her features, in which she had merely stormed off after remarking angrily that she didn’t need an arrogant city boy like him rubbing it in her face.

… Like he said, Miss Hawkeye wasn’t the nicest person around.

Nevertheless, in spite of her antagonism, Roy liked to believe that she was an inherently good person somewhere deep down, if one looked hard enough. Really hard. He’d seen her feed leftovers to the dogs that visited their backyard occasionally though she barely had enough to eat for herself. The Hawkeyes’ abject poverty also meant that food was scarce, but even then she always made sure he got the bigger portion instead.

(Of course, he had tried - multiple times, in fact - to insist otherwise, but any resistance he put up was only met with a baleful glare and a stiff upper lip.)

For the most part, therefore, he was content to leave her alone, and she generally seemed to prefer dogs to people anyway. His days were filled with studying and thick tomes and incomprehensible codes, and Roy was focused on becoming a remarkable, respectable alchemist. One that his aunt would be proud of. Any spare time he had was typically dedicated to trawling through the awfully dusty library in the Hawkeyes’ estate for research and reading.

But this was different.

Birthdays were special, sentimental, as his sisters had indoctrinated in him from the time he’d learnt how to count. Enough to count their birthdays, they claimed. Roy therefore felt terrible at the thought of her spending it alone, without so much as a single gift or birthday wish. From the little he’d gleaned from her relationship with Master Hawkeye it was clear that the man didn’t pay much attention to her, and he found himself wondering if his Master even remembered that it was his daughter’s birthday.

Sadly, his theory was proven right over lunch.

As usual, Miss Hawkeye had been the one to prepare their meals. While he wanted to help, the kitchen felt a little like Miss Hawkeye’s untouchable holy ground - except for the fact that even the removal of his shoes wouldn’t permit him to enter. He ended up waiting awkwardly in the living room, pretending to be engrossed in a thick alchemical tome for the rest of the afternoon amidst sizzling pans and fragrant spices.

When lunch was ready, they ate together as a trio, but neither Master Hawkeye or Miss Hawkeye made any mention of her birthday.

It was just like any other normal day - tense, quiet and sombre.

Afterwards, he returned to his studies, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his gut, but not from Miss Hawkeye’s cooking. Lunch had been fine - great, in fact. Her culinary skills were fantastic, second only to his aunt’s and sisters’. Miss Hawkeye didn't seem to react well to compliments, though, so he smartly refrained from singing her praises.

Alone in his room, the mangled mix of emotions only multiplied tenfold. He'd tried to distract himself with the textbooks strewn across his table, on his bed, but it failed. Nothing could pacify the guilt that had been gnawing at him.

Roy sat upright on his bed, pillow to his chest as he thought long and hard about Miss Hawkeye’s birthday.

He didn’t even know what she liked, and he most certainly didn’t want her to feel like he was lording his money over her. Ordinarily, he might have gifted his sisters with a handmade card, but he didn’t know her well enough to know the words to write. Saying thank you for being so kind and loving all the time didn’t seem to sit well for some reason, and given how sharp she was she would probably see through the lie.

So perhaps something that didn’t cost him anything, and didn’t require him to pen down his thoughts (because really, it was hard to have that many thoughts about a person who barely said much to him) would work best.

A piece of driftwood, or flowers plucked from a nearby bush, maybe?  

But those sounded absurd, even to him, and he failed to see what purpose Miss Hawkeye had for those things. Maybe a place he could bring her to?

Then, it hit him like an epiphany. Of course.  

He had recently discovered, during one of his recent trips to the forest when he’d been tasked by his Master to collect firewood, that there was a secret hideout that lay within. Oddly enough, that particular corner was unshrouded by trees, and the sunsets there were exceptionally breathtaking - especially when the sunlight refracted off the clear, emerald lake in the middle of the little sanctuary. Occasionally, Roy would take a short break on the abandoned bench to admire the view and empty his mind of the vicissitudes of life that plagued a fifteen-year-old. But the bench was large enough for two, and he sometimes yearned for a companion who could enjoy the scenery with him…

And now, Miss Hawkeye could.

He grinned excitedly as he sprinted over to her room, though when he arrived the wooden door suddenly seemed rather... intimidating.

But Roy was determined to make sure that Miss Hawkeye had a decent birthday, at least. Such occasions were not meant to be spent in isolation, in bitter solitude.

He would not falter.

Taking a deep breath, he mustered all the courage in him and finally knocked on her door, mentally rehearsing what he was going to say. Why am I getting so nervous, anyway? It’s not even a date -  

She opened the door to stare at him quizzically. “Uh… hi,” he stuttered. Words eluded him.

“May I help you, Mr. Mustang?”

“Ah, yes... Would you mind taking a stroll with me?” With that one question the look of curiosity on her face was quickly morphing into scepticism, distrust.

“What for?”

“It’s your birthday, right?”

Now she was most definitely suspicious. “... How did you know?”  

He gulped. “I… overheard some… things…” he finished lamely. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you a little gift, that’s all.” The large, overbearing grandfather clock in the hallway signalled that it was about five o’clock in the afternoon, and if they went now the timing would be perfect. “Nothing weird, I just wanted to show you a place. If you don’t mind?”

Miss Hawkeye scrutinised him carefully, as if searching for any hint of deception. He kept his palms open, pupils dilated in earnest, and gave his most charming, sincere smile.

When she was finally satisfied that he was being honest, she relented. “... Okay. But not for long, I have to be back to prepare dinner.”

He smiled sunnily at her in response. “Of course, Miss Hawkeye. Shall we go?” She nodded in agreement before following him quietly, and he was thankful for the relatively comfortable silence that had settled between them as they walked through the forest.

Miss Hawkeye was quite a sight to behold, he realised. The sunlight that crept through the dense crowd of trees cast a charming light on her stoic but pretty countenance, and in the forest she seemed a lot more relaxed; a childlike innocence and joy twinkling in her golden eyes. Her skirt billowed gracefully along with the falling leaves that frolicked in the autumn breeze, but despite her attire she moved lithely; feet shuffling through detritus with disconcerting familiarity and ease like she’d done this before.

Eventually, they arrived at their destination. A light sheen of sweat was beginning to form on their foreheads, but they found, much to their delight, that the sun was starting to set in brilliant shades of aureate and tangerine. Roy tugged at her wrist gently to lead her to the bench, to which she shyly obliged, settling them both onto their respective seats. “Here we are. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“It is. I’ve been here before, actually,” she said, fingers fiddling idly with the hem of her skirt as she gazed at the picturesque scene ahead, lulled by the sighs of the water and the gently rocking waves before them.

Roy was a little taken aback by this new revelation. “How did you know about this place?”

Miss Hawkeye’s fingers continued to pick at the threads, and he wondered how they hadn’t come loose by this point. “My mother used to bring me here, too, a long time ago,” she murmured softly, a brittle sort of reverence in her voice.

He stiffened, fervently hoping he hadn’t offended her in some way by bringing her here. “I… I’m sorry, Miss Hawkeye, if this place brings back bad memories.”

She shook her head, but though her lips were beginning to curve upwards in a small smile there was a poignant  look in her eyes, like she was reminiscing a distant memory that could never be recreated. “No, it’s not like that. I just… it’s a nice place.”

“It is,” Roy echoed. The silence that had dawned upon them suddenly felt very awkward to him. He swallowed nervously, but decided to ignore the thoughts swimming in his head. Instead, he continued to stare at the sunset that was unfurling in front of them, silently hoping that Miss Hawkeye enjoyed her birthday gift.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Mr. Mustang,” she whispered, legs swinging in tandem with the water’s rhythm.

It broke him out of his reverie. Roy was delighted with the small affirmation that she did like her present, after all. He turned to look at her again, and was mesmerised by how tender she looked, saturated in orange. “Roy.”

“What?”

“Please, call me Roy.”

“... Okay.”

“Can I… can I call you Riza?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t behead him there and then in the middle of the forest. She nodded imperceptibly while keeping her eyes ahead. Roy couldn’t tell if it was the sunset glow that painted her cheeks in the subtlest shade of scarlet, or if it was a blush.

Either way, he beamed, happy with the progress they had made. “Happy birthday, Riza.”

This time, the smile reached her eyes. Roy’s heart began to pulsate in his throat. He felt his breath being taken away, but he was unsure if it was because of the breathtaking scene in front of them or something else. For while the sunlight continued to scatter glittering diamonds on smaragdine, the sparkles dancing in her ochre eyes suddenly seemed infinitely more fascinating.

In front of them, their shadows began to lengthen with the sun’s movement, before slowly merging into one.

~x~

“What’s on your mind, sir?”

“Nothing, just appreciating the sunset,” Roy chuckled. After regaining his vision, he’d come to rediscover an appreciation for simple things that he might have previously taken for granted. But while the sight of the setting sun engulfing the tall buildings in Central was rather glorious in its own way, it paled in comparison to the warm, fulgent rays delicately kissing his Captain, painting her lovely visage in a warm, tender gold.

Roy often found himself wishing that he could be the one kissing her there and then instead during moments like these. Quite unfortunately, though, any semblance of a relationship they shared would have to remain strictly confidential. Their duty to make reparations took precedence over anything else, and in any case the anti-fraternisation laws were still in place.

Dating like two normal civilians were therefore prerogatives that they did not have.

But this was fine. Perfectly acceptable, in fact. Stolen, furtive kisses over daybreak and evening-time tasting of ginger tea and caffeine; the occasional quiet embrace or two filled with warmth and suppressed ardour. Little indulgences like these were enough to keep them hanging on to each other, to their shared resolve.

Anything beyond that - holy matrimony, domesticity and normalcy, perhaps a family of three - probably teetered dangerously close on the precipice of avarice.

This too, shall suffice. Roy ran a hand through his unkempt hair, as if doing so would quell his desires, before turning to give her a soft smile. A conspiratorial whisper, one that only she could hear. “And you.”

“I see,” she replied impassively, although the gears in her brain were already clicking as memories of her thirteenth birthday flashed behind her eyes. Speaking of sunsets and birthdays…  

Of course, it didn’t escape her that Roy’s birthday was coming up soon, the same way his daily schedule was never a mystery to her. Birthdays weren’t a particularly special occasion to Riza, but Roy liked to make it so.

She smiled gently as she observed fire dancing in obsidian, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that his schedule was mercifully empty for the next few days.

Perhaps a trip to Tobha is in order.  

~x~

The train ride to Tobha was one filled with companionable silence as vast conglomerations of buildings faded past them into rustic fields and lush valleys of green. Roy picked indolently on a slice of cake that the train staff had kindly provided for their journey. Whether this was a surprise of sorts from his beloved Captain, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help chuckling at the memory of almost-begging a young girl to follow him somewhere on her birthday nearly decades ago.

The close proximity between them now reminded him of that memory - the first time he’d inched so close to her without a looming death threat. But now, sitting so close to one another felt like second nature. Wherever they went, his feet always somehow drew him subconsciously nearer to her, and vice versa; revolving around each other like planets in orbit. In some ways, he supposed their presence had the effect of pulling each other in like gravity.

Slowly, he encroached into her personal space to lean his head on her shoulder. Then, he took her right hand in his (hers were smaller, colder) and ran a thumb gently across her knuckles, committing every callused ridge and line to memory to reassure himself again that this wasn’t a dream. That she was well and alive before his very eyes; eyes that could see once more.

“What are you doing, sir?” Riza muttered under her breath, an accusation and a protest. She’s a little embarrassed by how overtly affectionate he was despite the cabin’s privacy.

Roy, on the other hand, could care less.

“There’s no one else here,” he whined, like he was fifteen again. “And it’s my birthday, so let me have this privilege, please?”

She doesn’t bother deigning him with a verbal response. But with a free hand, she cards through his unkempt hair, and Roy feels the faint thrumming of a quickening pulse as she does so. He grins triumphantly to himself before allowing the inconsistent rhythm to lull him to sleep. It’s the most peaceful slumber he’s had in months: he dreams of gossamer webs and sunsets in autumn, reliving a treasured adventure, a cherished memory.

It’s short-lived, though. Soon enough, he’s awoken by her shoulders shrugging against his neck. “We’re here, sir.”

Roy places a finger on her lips. “Please call me Roy,” he requests politely, mirth and nostalgia dancing in his eyes as she rolls hers.

“Fine, Roy. Shall we go?” Roy can’t help but let out an unbridled, wholehearted laugh. It feels a little like a fairytale told in reverse, he thinks. One that he doesn’t mind countless retellings of.

“Of course, Miss Hawkeye,” he replied, intertwining his fingers as they got off the train. She grumbled at his idiocy, but was nonetheless thankful for the lack of prying eyes in this isolated, raffish town.

Together they walk to the forest, hand in hand, and with a quick glance at his pocket watch Roy realises it’s five. The perfect time to watch the sunset. Roy already has a rather accurate idea of where they’re going, but nonetheless obliges - teasingly, of course - when Riza tells him to close his eyes as they pass through magnificent woodland. The smell of wood and damp earth makes for a cornucopia of childhood innocence, one that he’s more than happy to immerse himself in.

“Close your eyes, Roy.”

“Or what, you’ll blindfold me? I didn’t know you were into stuff like -”

“On second thought, maybe I’ll just knock you out myself.” Riza glares at him, feeling like he’s just ruined the magic of the moment with his predilection for bad jokes.

Roy laughs again before complying, lifting his hands to cover his eyes. As he peeks through the infinitesimal gaps, he sees her shaking her head in exasperation, but the slightest hint of amusement makes itself known in the form of a subtle smile.

“Okay, now follow me.” Riza says, and he does. It’s easy to follow her. Roy knows her so well by this point that he understands every change in pitch, every hitch of her breath, every tug at his arm like simple chemistry.

(There’s an electrifying chemistry in the air between them, and he wishes he could seal it with a kiss right there and then.)

Patience, patience.  

“I’ll follow you into hell if you wish, Riza,” he opts for teasing her again, and though his eyes are closed, he can already envisage her scowl in his mind.

Regardless, she’s still a sight to behold, as she’d been as a thirteen-year-old.

“We’re here,” she announces a little excitedly, breathily. Instinctively, Roy removes his hands from his eyes to cover her open palm instead.

Tugging at her wrist gently, he leads her towards a wooden bench that’s all too familiar. It’s a little weather-beaten by time and rain, but sturdy all the same: it supports their weight comfortably as they sit, bodies adjacent to each other. Their shadows merge once more as the sun bathes their silhouette in crimson and orange. Roy pulls her in with an arm and relishes in the contact, sneaking a glance at her every so often while she watches the sunset unfold.

Before them, the vivid blaze began to soften into a gentle lilac as the lake drowned out the final vestiges of the sun. Any worries and sins and tragedies that might have plagued them receded like a spectre with the setting sun to give them a moment of undisturbed quietude. It’s incredible to watch, and Roy might have been fascinated by the show if he wasn’t so entranced by the way it reflected in Riza’s eyes; the scarlet mottling her cheeks (he’s pretty sure it’s a blush this time).

Lost in admiration, Roy doesn’t even notice that the enormous sky above them has turned a deep, dark blue until she points out that the first star of the night has appeared.

“Could be Venus instead of a star,” he muses out loud.

“You really have an uncanny ability to spoil things, Roy,” Riza frowns.

“Well, in Roman mythology, Venus was the goddess of love and beauty, and also sex and fertility...”

“... Let’s narrow it down to the goddess of love. Your point being?”

Her question is pure rhetoric at this point as she turns to look at him. Their noses bump against each other’s, but neither makes a move to withdraw. Roy leans in closer, nearer, the same way there was no distance separating their hearts.

Finally, their lips touch, and it feels a little like stars are being born in the enormous universe above them. It starts off tentative, gentle. Riza runs her hands tenderly through a crown of raven black to draw him deeper into the kiss, decades of pining and memories and love unfurling beneath them. It continues like a slow waltz, as though they had all the time in the world, but soon it quickens into a passionate, heated dance as they open their mouths to offer an invitation to explore charted territory. Her eyelids flutter, her breath hitches, and Roy thinks there’s nothing more exquisite than the taste of her. Her morning coffee lingers within. Two spoonfuls of sugar, but it is the indiscernible hum in her throat that sweetens the kiss.

“Happy birthday, Roy,” she whispers after they pull apart.

“Not Mr. Mustang?” Roy manages to quip, a little breathless himself.

Riza sniggers good-naturedly. Idiot. “No, sir.”

He flashes her a smile, one of bittersweet understanding, before leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “Let me savour this moment for a bit more before we get back to business, Riza.”

“Of course, Roy.” She supposed they could afford just this one moment of indulgence before resuming their roles as Brigadier General and Captain.

At the very least, we’ll have these hours of glory to keep our hearts alight, alive.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Romanced companions react to an autistic!Sole having a meltdown because of sensory overload?

Romanced!Companions React to Autistic!Sole with Sensory Overload Anxiety

This was a great prompt! I hope I was able to do it justice, I wanted to get it posted, but I also desperately need sleep 😅 But thank you so much for the ask, Anon! I might expand on this more at a later date as well, when my brain decides to function again. 

This prompt with FO3 and FONV

Cait:

She understood Sole's reaction more than the specific cause of the overload. It seems like all Cait has ever been around are stressful and overstimulating situations, so it’s difficult for her to differentiate occurrences that will cause Sole distress and those that wont. Once Sole was able to specify what it was that was bothering them, Cait would put an end to it. Preventing whatever it may be from doing her partner any more harm. She’s not a particularly soft person, everyone knows that, but she can’t stand seeing Sole like this. She may not know a whole lot of fancy breathing exercises that are medical journal standard, but she knows enough from her own experience to be able to improvise something in the way of support for her partner. 

Curie:

She would be an absolute pro. Like, the perfect combo between health professional, and understanding romantic partner. If their surroundings were secure, she would focus all her energy on helping Sole, doing breathing and grounding exercises to help them through their breakdown in a clinical way. In the aftermath of Sole's overload, Curie would turn back to doting girlfriend as she looks after her love, helping them to come down from their nerves and maybe being just a tad too touchy feely for them in this instance. But she means well!

Danse:

If this were to happen in the midst of combat, Danse would instantly take a more defensive position, and would root himself firmly between Sole and any enemies they may be facing. In other instances, he would use what he had learned in the Brotherhood when it came to PTSD episodes that he would experience for himself. He would remove them from the pressured conditions they found themselves in, taking them for a walk to calm their nerves, engaging in breathing exercises with them, and encouraging speech when it seemed possible. He would try to be supportive in every way he could, but Sole would have to be patient with their partner when it came to more intimate forms of comfort, as Danse tends to turn back to soldier-type tendencies in these situations. As a more preventative measure, Danse would attempt to craft a power armor helmet modification that could aid in depleting noise during combat, and otherwise try and dull the senses to make the outside environment more bearable for Sole.

Deacon:

He would actually be really good at dealing with this situation? Given his own experiences in life, and the many interactions he's had with a variety of types of people (and synths) in stressful situations, he would be able to sympathize with Sole, trying to draw any attention away from them, knowing that'll only make it worse, and helping them recover afterwards. He wouldn't be phased at all by their outburst and would try to help calm them down by making a few jokes here and there, if only to let them know that it wasn't a big deal to him.

Hancock:

His mostly chill demeanor would work wonders on Sole's nerves when they were around him. He was just so easy going, and non-judgmental and he seemed to never strip their energy from them when they spent time with him. Should they get themselves into a situation where sensory overload does occur, he'd do his best to guide Sole to a safe place where they can unwind and focus on returning their breathing to normal. If they think chems will help, he'll be more than happy to oblige, even going so far as to specifically scavenge whatever type of treatment chem that Sole had in mind for these overwhelming instances and would always keep it on his person.

MacCready: 

He’s a little panicked himself in these types of situations, but he makes an effort to be the calm one of the two. He finds his way to Sole in whatever way he can, looking into their eyes and trying to ground them with his voice as he desperately tries to keep it from shaking. He’s never had any formal training or anything like that, but when his PTSD episodes flare up, he has a few tricks that he uses to get back to reality; identifying objects around him, breathing in through his nose, sitting down with his head between his knees. He’ll try and suggest a few ways Sole can deal with their overload, going through the motions himself as well, since his partner’s anxiety tends to somehow inject itself into him whenever these meltdowns occur.   

Nick:

He’s calm, collected, and used to dealing with people in distress. It’s like he was built for this. Though he isn’t as familiar first-hand with the reactions that the human body has in these types of situations, he knows how to help. He’ll quickly try and get them out of the environment that is causing their meltdown, or eliminate the person or thing responsible for causing their anxiety. Afterwards he will try to help them come out of it easily and on their own terms, trying not to pressure them, but acting as a source of unwavering support for however long it takes for them to settle down. 

Piper: 

The woman truly tries her best, but it always frightens her when Sole is panicked in this way. She’s just too damn empathetic when it comes to Sole, that she can’t help but dissolve into the same state of discomfort and panic that her partner finds themself in. She would try anything to calm herself down and would frantically gesture for Sole to join her as she works on her breathing, counting, and amateur grounding exercises. As the pair come out of their shared panic, she’ll try to return to her normal self as soon as possible. Once her breathing returned to normal and Sole calmed down as well, she would offer her companion some much needed verbal and physical support, as well as some snack material to replenish their strength in the aftermath of their overload. 

Preston: 

The man is the definition of “works well under pressure;” he knows what it feels like to let people down, to lose people because of his mistakes, and he doesn’t intend for that to happen again. Ever. Especially when it comes to Sole. When his partner is in a compromised position, feels uncomfortable, or looks like they're about to have a meltdown, Preston is immediately at their side, putting himself in harm's way in order to ensure their safety and comfortability. He tries to use his voice, which for some reason he can keep totally calm even when he's under great stress, to keep them grounded. Counting along with them as they try to stay focused and keep from becoming completely overwhelmed. He is usually able to calm them down before their discomfort can escalate to the point of a meltdown, but if for whatever reason he can’t, he’ll be there to support them through the entire ordeal. Afterwards, he’ll speak softly to them, taking them far away from whatever situation was the cause of their stress, and ask if there was anything more he could have done to help. 

X6-88: 

X6 tends to notice when Sole is becoming uncomfortable even before they themself know. He’s memorized the types of environments that tend to set them off, and if it’s possible, he tries to usher them away from the cause of their anxiety before it can become an issue. If he is unable to do so, X6 will then take control of the situation as best as he can, eliminating points of stress almost to the point of overdoing it. There may be instances where Sole has to pull him out of his protective frenzy as he relentlessly removes anything that could be causing Sole's distress. In that case, X6 tends to provide enough of a distraction himself to be able to help Sole focus and stay grounded as they try to aid him. Does he do it intentionally? If they ask, he'll insist he doesn't know what they're talking about. He’ll just thank them calmly for assisting him, and begin to tend to their needs in the aftermath of their distress, assessing their physicality and mental state before allowing them to continue their travels. 

[wanna-b-poet31]

Crowley’s Truth and Aziraphale’s Lies (A 3-part series) Part 1: Crowley’s Heartbreaking Honesty

So I could do a whole series about why Crowley (in all his piety) is fallen and Aziraphale (in all his temptations) is not. However, I wanted to focus this series strictly on the use of honesty and lies throughout Good Omens. I argue that honesty (and the irony of an honest Demon and a lying Angel) is a tool for establishing their place in-between Heaven and Hell.  They serve as hybrids, a liminal space between holy and hellish, allowing for their supposed “flaws” to shine, and enable them to form their own side.  

Crowley’s Motivation:

One of Crowley’s defining traits is his imagination. Unlike any other celestial entity, he can create ideas, questions, and fabrications at a moment’s notice.  Crowley’s no Saint, he lies to Hastur easily (about calling the demonic counsel), he impersonates Aziraphale stunningly, and (if Aziraphale recalls correctly) he takes credit for all of the horrendous things humanity has done throughout the years (even earning himself some commendations along the way).  So he CAN lie, quite well actually, so long as he has the proper motivation.

And, without fail what IS his motivation? Who (or what) inspires him and allows him to focus his thoughts even when he’s panicking (and possibly trying his best to cope with his piles of trauma)?  Certainly not humanity alone, and certainly not because he has any sense of self-preservation. The man ran into a burning building head first without a second thought; he drove his beloved car through literal hellfire; he walked across consecrated ground despite being burned simply because he told himself he could.  No, he there’s only 1 thing that motivates him.

Aziraphale (of course) 

Crowley: Would I Lie To You?

Crowley lies at least 5 notable times throughout the series.

His reports about the ill-deeds he’s responsible for are riddled with lies and half-truths (which is a general fuck you Hell kind of lie)

He fails to tell the higher-ups in Hell about his knowledge about the Anti-Christ, the location of the Anti-Christ and neglected to correct Hell about it (a Fuck you Satan kind of lie)

He hides and ignores the agreement he’s made with Aziraphale from Hell (A Fuck you Heaven and Hell kind of lie) 

He deceives Hastur, several times but most notably after Ligur’s death (a fuck you Hastur kind of lie, and he’s murderous so he deserves it sorta)

He Impersonates Aziraphale (An F to the U to Heaven kind of lie) 

The notable exemption from this list is Aziraphale. 

Unlike the demons who he deceives at any given moment (particularly in defense of Aziraphale), he refuses to lie to Aziraphale. 

Are you Satan and have just “blessed” Crowley with the staring role in the Apocalypse?  Yeah, great (lies through his teeth about wanting to partake). 

 Are you a Duke of Hell inquiring about where the Anti-Christ is and trying to confront Crowley about his relationship with Aziraphale? “So Longggg Suckaaas” I’m gonna lie lie lie and possibly kill you for coming towards me. 

Are you heaven trying to torture my best friend >lover< with hellfire that will surely kill him? Not today motherfucker, because guess what? Now I’m him and I’ll lie my ass off to protect him. 

Are you an Angel who shows free will and loves humanity as much as he does? 404 Error lies not found. 

This is not to say he’s always straightforward with Aziraphale. because God, Satan, Someone knows he’s got a flair for the dramatic. But not even does he lie through omission.  Whenever Aziraphale asks a question, no matter how light-hearted or series Crowley’s being, he will always give an honest answer, even if it sometimes goes over the angel’s head. >see: Crowley being a blubbering mess because his best friend died and Aziraphale not quite understanding that the best friend is him< 

He’s also oddly cryptic when he’s asking for holy water, but never once does Crowley lie. Sure, he’s trying to speak in code “because the trees have ears”, but when he says it’s for insurance, not a suicide pill, it is for insurance. 

He can tell that his relationship with Aziraphale has morphed in such a way that it would put him and Aziraphale in danger if Hell ever found out about it.  Aziraphale, simply, does not believe him that his only motivation is protection because it is too close to his own fears about Crowley being destroyed. 

Which is why I think he’s so upset about the word “fraternize”. First, there is a class element involved with the Victorian use of the word (usually referring to someone of a higher class interacting friendly to a lower class member). Where Aziraphale may have meant comradery (and brotherhood, which also not how Crowley views their relationship) Crowley certainly acts as if he took it to mean Aziraphale was speaking to him like an enemy or an “inferior” species. 

This is only further supported by Aziraphale’s accusatory “we may have both started out as Angels, but YOU are fallen”, placing (in my opinion) too much emphasis on Crowley’s fall (a huge trauma trigger for him). But this whole characterization of their relationship is a lie Aziraphale tells himself to repress his fears about Heaven’s traumatic treatment of him. By this point in their partnership (as we’ve seen) both he and Crowley go out of their ways to treat each other as equals. To deny it, to repress their feeling is a slap. in. the. face. 

Further, the audience for lying clearly matters to Crowley.  In the relative privacy of the park, Aziraphale says “fraternize”, which doesn’t do enough justice for the kind of intimacy the uniquely share. It implies they could be enemies or strangers (which they aren’t, they’re at least friends). Crowley is so intimately aware that even now, in the 1800′s, it’s them (and humanity) against divinity.  And, Crowley refuses to lie to Aziraphale, especially about the sort of relationship they share. Sure he won’t tell the other demons, and sure as hell won’t tell the angels how deep their relationship goes, but in this private moment, where he’s approaching as a partner (not an adversary)? It would be the worst kind of lie. It would ignore or erase the new space they’ve created for themselves where they can be equals. 

In the above gif, we see Crowley angry and lash out. He says harsh words and insists that he doesn’t need Aziraphale. Since we’re counting, I don’t think this is a lie. Now no, he clearly does need Aziraphale in his life, but he’s just been smacked in the face with the insinuation that they are not equals, they are not friends, they are enemies, and I believe him at this moment, a very hurt Crowley, decides if that’s how Aziraphale is going to treat him, then he will treat him like all his other enemies. At the moment he says I think it he means it because Crowley cannot make time for someone who won’t take his concerns seriously and thinks so little of their relationship.  If he can’t be seen as an equal, he’d prefer not to be seen at all. 

Although, this is a temporary truth, and one Crowley is willing to correct Aziraphale about in a way he never does for his hellish counterparts. Crowley cares too deeply to wish Aziraphale any real harm, even if Aziraphale can’t call a spade a spade. Crowley sure as Hell would move heaven and earth to demonstrate the extent of his love. He shows as much in his rescue in 1941, and again when Aziraphale once again lies and says “we’re not friends...I don’t even like you” in the bandstand. These lies actively hurt Crowley but not once does he retaliate with.  Instead, he meets Aziraphale with blunt honesty. Saying “yes you do” doing everything he can to get Aziraphale on the same page, and share their truth. 

Look at the above gif. Not only does Crowley KNOW Aziraphale is lying, but Aziraphale knows it too. While he clearly loves Crowley and has loved Crowley for some time, his inability to work through his anxieties and rely on Crowley as a support system, as a partner, he can’t come to terms with his own trauma. 

So, he lies. 

He lies and he hurts Crowley. He lies and he dismisses Crowley’s honesty. He lies and he harms himself because they both know this is a facade he can’t keep up much longer. He lies, and Crowley still meets him with honesty and forgiveness. 

And honestly, it breaks his heart to be lied to, but he knows the alternative solution would be no best friend at all. Under normal circumstances, Crowley could be patient. He could wait for Aziraphale to come to terms with their relationship almost for forever. But, shit hits the fan, and he needs to show Aziraphale that two of them need to stop dancing, stop being cryptic, and cut through the bullshit for once. 

Which brings me to the first Gif of this section. Take a moment, scroll the ridiculous amount up, and just look at the indignation on his face. in the earlier gif “Would I lie to you?”, he clearly consciously makes a point to never lie to Aziraphale, despite it supposedly being “the demon’s way”. Not in anger (like at the bandstand) not even if it’s uncomfortable (like when he’s criticizing Aziraphale for being so clever and so stupid), not even if the angel is (knowingly or unknowingly) hurting him with his lies. 

Crowley draws the line at tainting his relationship with the kind of lies Heaven tells, and the kind of disregard Hell tells.  Because despite the lies he’s told by Aziraphale, Crowley knows who he can trust, who he needs on his side, who he wants to spend the end of the world with, and it sure as hell isn’t Hastur or Beelzebub.  

Because at the end of the day, Crowley knows what the two of them share together.  One great way to see this comparison is to checkout @theladyzephyr ‘s meta on Crowley and his glasses. Because while he does let his guard down for Aziraphale (even if only drunk), his autonomy, his consent to wear/not wear his glasses is taken from in by Hastur in the above gif’s scene.  Aziraphale, for all his lies, does not cross the same boundaries as Hell does, and genuinely cares for Crowley. He shows remorse for his actions and is clearly just as hurt by his own lies as Crowley is. 

A Very Crowley’s Conclusion

But what does this mean in terms of his Honesty? Well, for starters, demonstrates that while he has the power to lie, and could lie to Aziraphale (functionally I mean) he chooses not to.

He might, every now and then poke him and partake in some friendly banter, but never is it mean spirited, not even when they’re both at their breaking points. His ability to lie but restraint from lying; his ability to deceive, but his choice to trust, sets him apart from the rest of the demonic mold.  

Quite honestly, He probably could tempt (like really tempt) Aziraphale to his side. He could manipulate and push the Angel into situations they both know he would be uncomfortable with. But, he doesn’t. He doesn’t become the abusive force Heaven and Hell have pushed on the two of them because that’s not how he wants or needs to cope with his loss. No, he needs an equal, not a lackey. He needs an equal, not a boss. He needs love, not control. 

It becomes clear that his loyalties have never (at least not in the series) been with Hell. Crowley doesn’t trust or care about his fellow demons. He kills one (permanently) and another (not so permanently) without hesitation. He defies (actively and with little regard for the safety of other celestial creatures) the desires of Hell, working with his bestie to ensure the world breaks even. 

Consequently, he’s creating a “third” option with Aziraphale. It is distinctly not a human space (neither of them is human). It’s is not heavenly or hellish, but space for them to be who they are, fight for what they love and feel safe knowing they are a team (romantic or otherwise). And it’s clear based on who he lies to and how he lies, that he’s not cut out for the Demon frenzy or the demon.

Their third space is what Crowley’s been working for since day one because Aziraphale is worth lying to others to protect and worth telling the truth to love. 

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

III

September 17, 2277.

From her reaction to Ahzrukhal’s murder alone, I had a hunch that she’s different from my previous employers.

“I assume Ahzrukhal wasn’t very high on your list of favorite people?” my new employer comments, eyes still fixated on the stump where Ahzrukhal’s head used to be.

“Ahzrukhal was an evil bastard. As long as he held my contract, I was honor bound to do as he commanded. Now, you are now my employer, which freed me to rid the world of that disgusting rat,” I tell her, to which she smirked. “And now, for good or ill, I serve you.”

“You won’t have to throw drunks over the balcony or make young women land on their asses without good reason, I promise you that.”

In secret, I held on to that promise.

Half past midnight, my new mistress and I sit at one of the tables in the Ninth Circle while Ahzrukhal’s body starts catching flies. She skims through my contract, and tucks it away under her Pip-Boy glove. Onlookers were staring, but no one dared approach me, the tall, intimidating ghoul with a shotgun, and the smoothskin girl with a Gauss rifle who holds my leash.

“Right! First order of business. My name is Percy Zhou,” she introduces herself, and extends a small, gloved hand. I stare at it at the moment, trying to read any discomfort or disgust on my mistress’ face, and when she raises an eyebrow, I grasp it, and she gives my hand a shake. I couldn’t help but notice how large my hands are in contrast to hers. I let go as soon as I could; it wasn’t unpleasant. Not a lot of employers would go out of their way to touch me, and I am not used to it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“If conversation is what you wish, then I shall provide it.”

“So formal…” she chuckles. “So, is your name really pronounced ‘Sh’aron, or is it ‘Kh’aron, like in those old mythology books?”

No one has pronounced my name like that in quite the long time. When a barely literate raider boss acquired my contract years ago, he started to pronounce my name as ‘Sh’aron out of mockery. It stuck. At my new mistress’ pronunciation of my name, however, my brain is starting to itch again, but the need to respond to her holds me back. “You can call me whatever you prefer, mistress.”

“Don’t call me mistress, please.”

Please. A word employers never use. Coming out of her mouth, it felt strange.

“Anyway, if I start calling you Mr. Dreamboat, you wouldn’t object?”

I snort, despite myself. The reaction elicited a giggle from my new mistress and she waves her hand. My previous employers, Ahzrukhal included, laughed at me, not with me. “Ah, so you have a sense of humor,” she laughs, pushing her glasses into her face. “I’m kidding, don’t worry.”

“Charming.” It came out of my mouth dry and flat.

“I’ll start calling you ‘Kh’aron, then.”

Percy starts digging in her pack and produces two sticks of bubblegum. She unwraps and starts chewing on one of them, and offers one to me. I took it partly to stay in her good graces, and partly because I have been eating nothing but disgusting mole rat meat for quite some time, courtesy of my previous employer, of course. The last time I had sugar... I still had skin.

“Charon,” my mistress calls my attention. She is showing me a map on her Pip Boy.

“This,” she starts, pointing to a waypoint on the map, “is the Museum of Technology. It’s right across us, but getting there isn’t a walk in the park. Unlike ghouls, Super Mutants don’t ignore humans out in the open.” I nod in response.

“Which is why I wore my sneaking suit for the occasion. I don’t want to engage in a direct gunfight. It’s too dark, and my eyes suck. Are you any good at stealth?”

“I am proficient,” I respond.

“Perfect. Anything else that you’re good at that we can use to our advantage?”

“Aside from firearms, I am trained in handling explosives.”

“Great,” she exclaims, and her small hand disappears into her pack once more. She hands me three frag grenades. “I was planning to sell these to Tulip. You can hold on to them.”

I nod, storing the grenades away. “Also, I’d like you to provide me cover fire in case we get detected and this bad boy fails to take down the muties,” she adds, motioning to her Gauss rifle, and I nod. How did a kid like her get her hands on a powerful weapon anyway?

She then starts briefing me on our objective. A satellite dish. Seems simple enough.

When she started a damn treasure hunt in the museum, however, things got more interesting than I previously anticipated. Percy picks off the mutants with her rifle, and scouts forward. She sees the museum terminals and decides to tinker with them. The next thing I knew, I was tailing her around while she hunted for more terminals. My mistress, deep in concentration, stares at numbers at a terminal, muttering something about prime numbers as the green glow reflects on her glasses. At the moment, I was annoyed, but when we found a key in the safe, I was astounded to see a missile launcher inside the gun locker it unlocks. In poor condition, but it’s a fucking missile launcher nonetheless.

At that point, I stopped questioning myself how my mistress can get her hands on valuable loot. She’s thorough. I respect that.

As soon as we finished looting, we proceeded with the mission as normal. We acquired the dish, and what was supposed to be a simple task of locating the Washington Monument to replace the old one turned out more complicated when one of the big green bastards spotted us when the missile launcher rustled against the satellite dish.

“Here we go,” Percy yells, rolling behind a barricade. “I’ll snipe. Cover me.”

One. Two. Three. The mutants start falling. One with a sledgehammer is heading to her blind spot and I finished that one with my shotgun. Four. As my mistress was reloading, one of the mutants threw a grenade to draw us out. Faster than I can think, my reflexes kicked in, and I tackled my mistress, covering her body.

I can barely hear my name as my ears rang, but I can clearly hear the distress in my mistress’ voice. She slips from underneath me and retrieves her rifle while I lie face first in the dirt.

Five. The last mutant fell. I got on my hands and knees and I felt a small hand grasp my bicep, forcing me to sit.

“Shit. Shit. Charon, are you okay?”

I nod. “Are you injured?” I ask her back.

“Shit, big guy, don’t worry about me, you’re the one who’s bleeding” she curses, looking at my back. “You have shrapnel all over you.”

“Your safety takes priority. I can withstand the pain.”

“Bullshit. Once we arrive at the monument, I’m patching you up first before we do anything else,” she insisted, pulling me up and wrapping an arm around my waist as we walked all the way to the monument.

“That is not necessary.”

She ignored me.

As we arrived, the Brotherhood soldier standing at the gate almost opened fire at me if it wasn’t for Percy waving her arms. Percy sets me down near the radio, and starts rummaging her pack for medical supplies, yelling at any gawkers to give her and her patient some privacy.

“This is not necessary, mistress,” I tell her, and she rolls her eyes at me.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘mistress?’”

“I apologize. I will not call you mistress again, ma’am.”

Percy groaned, throwing her hands up in the air. “Hey. Stop. I’m not used to being addressed as a superior, and it’s making me uncomfortable,” she starts, taking a bottle of antiseptic and giving it a good shake. Taking off her gloves, she splashes them all over her hands.

“I’m asking you to adjust to my methods. In this partnership, we are equals. Got it?”

“The contract dictates that we are not.”

Percy pauses. “It does?”

“Yes.”

My mistress lets out an exasperated groan. “Jesus, dad is right. I need to read contracts before agreeing to them…” she mumbles to herself. “Let’s sort it out later. Take your shirt off.”

Complying, I shed my shoulder pads and stripped from the waist up. My back is revealed to her, along with all the scars, peeling skin, and my protruding spine. I can feel Percy’s gaze as she kneeled behind me. She wasn’t making any movement, or talking.

“Is there something wrong?”

Soft fingers press on old scars, tracing an old whip mark. “Who did this to you?”

Her voice came out as a cracked whisper. Tension started to boil in my head. “If my mistress wishes to find out, I will do my best to recall.”

“You don’t- you don’t remember?”

“No.”

“I won’t press any further. My mistake,” she whispers, apologetic, and she finally moves again. “Hold still, big guy.”

Through clenched teeth, I let out a grunt when she started to pull the bits of shrapnel from my back. “Some of these wounds need stitches. We have no anaesthetic, sorry. Tell me if the pain is too much.”

“How I feel is irrelevant.”

“How you feel concerns me,” she insists. “You said that my safety takes priority, yes?”

“...yes.”

“Then,” she continues, plunging the needle in my ruined skin. “How can you focus on protecting me if you are injured? Or ill? Or in pain?”

“I am trained to withstand great injury and pain. My main objective is ensuring your protection regardless of my physical condition,” I grit through my teeth, and exhaling in relief when I feel her sew the wound shut. “And you did. I’m just returning the favor. Just let me fuss over you, big guy. It won’t hurt either of us,” she argues, her breath warm against my nape, and I hoped she didn’t notice the goosebumps I had on what’s left of my skin.

I stopped arguing with her at that point. She is different from my previous employers indeed.

Percy injects me with stimpaks, then moves in front of me and turns on her Pip-Boy light. “I’m just gonna check for a concussion.” She shines it in my eyes and everything is white.

“I was training to be a doctor before I was forced to leave the vault, you know,” she tells me, then she turns off the light. My vision readjusted to the rising sun, its rays hitting her eyes through the holes in the building, her irises shifting from almost black to a vibrant brown. They remind me of chocolate, a rare treat from pre-war days.

“Your pupils are dilating and constricting equally, so no brain injury. I think. How are you feeling?” she asks me, and I look away, not daring to meet her eyes.

“Better.”

“No headaches or pain?”

“None.”

“Good. Get dressed and rest up, I’ll install the dish.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t feel the need to.

When she returned, she had a smile on her face and her bun had come undone from the wind up the tower. She slumps next to me and opens a bottle of Nuka-Cola from her pack. After taking a swig, she passes the bottle to me.

“What a day. Let’s rest for awhile here,” she tells me, rolling her joints.

“Certainly.”

“Help yourself to whatever food we still have in the pack,” Percy half speaks, half-yawns. “I’ll take a nap. Wake me up in thirty minutes?”

“As you wish.”

Thirty minutes passed, but I didn’t touch any of her food, content on drinking the sugary drink in hand. I gently shake her awake. When she wakes up, she blinks a few times at me, smiles, and she runs her fingers through her hair, sticky and matted from her sweat. “I should probably get a haircut. Let’s get to Underworld. Snowflake offered to do it for free.”

After resting for a few more minutes, we stood up, collected our gear, and I followed her. While walking back to Underworld, she turns on her radio, and Galaxy News Radio comes in clear as day.

“People of the Capital Wasteland, you can hear meeeee! Yeeeaa haaaa!!! You can't stop the signal, baby! That's right, from Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we are coming to you loud and proud, in a special live report! ”

Percy beams and laughs. “That Three Dog is quite the character, huh?”

“But Three Dog? You're in that cool radio studio in D.C. How do you know I can hear you, all the way out here in the ass end of nowhere? Because of the kid from Vault 101, that's how! That gal actually managed to repair our antenna relay. But get this, she wasn’t acting alone! Sources say that a tall, dark, and scary ghoul was accompanying Miss 101 as she braved through the super mutants in downtown DC. Who is this mysterious ghoul? Hired muscle? A slave? A friend? Whoever he may be, the Ranger of the Wastes is safer with him around, so cheers to him too. Now, the two of you, hurry over to GNR. We have a lot to talk about!”

I doubt the last statement.

As we approached Underworld, Willow is nowhere to be found. Something’s wrong, and Percy feels it too, turning off her radio.

“Charon. Willow’s missing. And it’s too quiet.”

“There may be danger here,” I tell her, placing my body defensively in front of her as we approach the entrance.

The doors swung open, and Doc Barrows stood there, along with Willow and a few other residents, pointing their guns at us.

“We need to talk.”

[eskalations]

"My persona is a flirt." She whispered, lowly. With her hands wrapped around his neck, she dragged him down far enough so that she could breathe against the skin of his ear. She could feel her grin turn proud as she felt him shiver in response. "You make it more believable by leaving marks."

A set of Genderbend AU Royai One Shots

Read from the beginning (x)

A/N: Don't worry, I didn't forget about these two lovely characters! It took me a long time to figure out which scene I wanted to tackle next and this one just seemed to keep on popping up in my head. Now, I warn you - it's kind of spicy. Now there isn't anything explicit, but it's certainly enough to get the blood pumping. I don't think it's enough to warrant an "M" rating, but if it makes you uncomfortable leaving it at "T", just let me know and I'll change the rating. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Thanks for reading! 

~

East City - Spring of 1909

Ray Hawkeye wasn't sure how it had happened, but he found that the mechanics of it mattered very little. The truth of the matter still stands – in all its guilt-ridden glory.

He had taken his father's ex-apprentice to bed.

The words made his toes curl in a less than pleasurable way from the hour before, bile rising in his throat at the thought. How could he have done this? How could he have turned his back on his promise to protect this girl against all harm that came at her? How could he be so stupid?

The answer was plain and simple – alcohol.

The war had ended earlier in the month and both he and Raina had made their way to East City. Ray had returned to the Academy to finish his training for graduation in the summer – and Raina, after a brief stay with her foster mother in Central – had decided to put in a transfer out East. Though most saw it as a dead-end position, Raina insisted she had it on very good authority, that it was the right place to get her start. Ray didn't question that.

They hadn't spoken much since the end of the war. Ray was busy with his training and Raina was busy with the responsibilities that came along with her recent promotion. Upon her arrival back from Ishval, the young woman had been given the title of 'Lieutenant Colonel' – making her the youngest soldier in history to wear that rank. While anyone else would be proud of such an honor, Raina remained relatively quiet on the matter. She accepted, but there was no happiness behind it.

All Ray could see was determination.

He knew from speaking with Maes Hughes at the end of the war that Raina had all but committed herself to reaching the seat of Fuhrer. She saw it as the only option she had to repent for all the sins she had committed in Ishval.

Ray didn't exactly know what he was going to do, but he felt he would know once he was freed from the curse written into the skin of his back.

Raina had been fighting demons that night, causing her to call out to him in the most unexpected way possible. When his superior had told him he had a call from a young woman, he had hardly believed it, unable to imagine who would be bothering to call him at such a late hour. However, when he lifted the phone to his ear, he recognized the voice instantly.

"Ray?" She had asked, her words slurred against the sound of raucous laughter in the background. From the clank of glasses and drunken shouts, he deduced she was at a bar. "Ray, are you there?"

He hadn't heard his name from her lips in so long, having gotten use to her normal address of "Hawkeye" while they had fought alongside each other in the war. There was a vulnerability in her tone that had his heart clenching in fear, as though he somehow thought she couldn't handle herself in her current state.

"Where are you?" He asked, not bothering to confirm his identity to her, knowing she would recognize his voice. The anxiety in his words were obvious as he pressed on. "Do you need me to come get you?"

There was a pause over the line. From her side, he could hear another round of laughter break out and the snap of a pool stick before she finally came back with an answer.

"Yes."

He had retrieved her from the bar, shocked at the sight that met him. She was a vision to be sure in a low cut, black sleeveless dress with a pair of heels that looked like they had been made to kill. However, it was the look in her eyes that made him pause. While she had certainly had the eyes of a killer for well over a year now, the pain he saw within those dark depths was new.

He imagined it had to have been from the alcohol.

They hadn't spoken as he walked her to the apartment she now resided in. The building was near Eastern Headquarters and just a few blocks down from the barracks where he was currently staying. He hadn't realized how close in proximity they were to each other and part of him was glad he hadn't. With the current state that they were both in, he doubted them hanging out together would do much good.

He had walked with her up the stairs and had even turned the key for her when they had made it to her door. He had intended to leave once he was sure she was safely in her room – however, it seemed the younger girl had other plans, tugging his hand and leading him into her apartment. Cautiously, he chose to follow.

Her home was nothing spectacular. From what he could see, her living area was sparse with a single green couch in its center and a fireplace against the far wall. There was an entry way that led to what must have been her kitchen and dining area with a hall on the opposite side. Certainly, these were not the plush quarters of a Lieutenant Colonel that he had been expecting. It was simple; it was minimal.

Raina had ditched her shoes at the door, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to release the tension that had settled into them. She still wobbled to the side as she made her way to the living room, but she wasn't nearly as inebriated as she had been when he first retrieved her from the bar.

Ray didn't bother removing his coat, resolute in his decision to only stay for a few minutes to make sure that she was alright.

"Want a drink?" She had asked casually, swaying her hips as she walked towards the kitchen. Her long black hair fell down her back in an intoxicating fashion – so intoxicating that Ray felt himself swallowing harshly.

This was a bad idea.

Despite every warning whistle that was going off in his head, telling him that he was playing a dangerous game, the man for whatever reason answered in the affirmative.

"Yes." The words made a smile appear on her features, though it didn't touch her eyes. Ray could still see the pain from earlier swirling in those dark depths. "But only one."

The one drink had eventually led to two, which then became three, and things slowly escalated from there.

They spoke of what they had been doing since they last saw each other. Ray shared with her the topics of his last several trainings while she spoke in return of the work she had been doing in Eastern Headquarters. At nineteen-years-old, the older soldiers respected her very little, seeing her as nothing but a flirty upstart – however, she had become quite good friends with the old General Grumman who was at the head of the region.

They both avoided the topic that they had been mulling over for the past several weeks, neither forgetting the promise they had made upon their departure from Ishval.

After throwing back his third drink, Ray reveled in the relief the alcohol provided. He had been burying himself in his studies to avoid the pain of his memories of war, but it seemed to him that Raina had been conquering them in a different fashion. She had certainly developed a tendency to drink in Ishval, something told him though that it had only gotten worse since her arrival home.

It was after this last drink that he noticed a change in Raina.

She had shared one drink with him, but was nowhere near as intoxicated anymore. He figured that after how much she had drunk in the past year, her tolerance was probably even better than his. He had a buzz at the moment but was still completely aware of his actions. Surely, he could still make rational judgements in this state.

That was until he felt a warm pair of lips on his own.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. It was if the world had stopped and all had ceased to exist at the touch of her lips. It took him a moment to realize what was happening and that the whooshing sound that was plaguing his ears was actually the sound of his erratic heart.

Before he could respond, Raina had pulled back, her dark eyes peering into his own and waiting for a reaction. He imagined the shock he was feeling translated on to his features. There was a warmth to his cheeks that hadn't been there before and he tried to convince himself it was from the drinks.

Raina raised a brow, still waiting for a response.

"No."

His words had been sharp, despite the alcohol and despite his shock. He knew what her eyes were beseeching, though he had very little experience in that department, but he simply couldn't give into such desires. This was the girl he had vowed to protect and taking advantage of her in such a position, certainly wouldn't help him with that.

Raina pouted at his refusal. "Why not?"

"Because you're not thinking straight." He had answered, glued to his seat. His mind was telling him to run, to return to the Academy and to wait a few weeks for all of this to blow over before meeting with her again – however, his body was saying differently. Just from one touch of her lips, it was though he had fallen under a spell.

It made him uncomfortable. It made him feel out-of-control. It made him feel dirty.

"I'm thinking perfectly fine, thank you. I'm not as drunk as you think I am." She had answered, scooting closer to him on the couch. Her bare thigh was touching his own, her warmth seeping through the material of his sweatpants. "And I know you're not drunk, either. I think we are both perfectly able to make decisions for ourselves right now."

"Well I'm making the decision to say 'no'."

The words had not been the ones she wanted to hear.

"Why?" She asked, venom laced in her tone. "Because you still see me as that child who showed up on your doorstep? Because you still see me as a girl rather than a woman?"

"That's not it, Miss Mustang."

"Yes, it is!" She exclaimed, jumping from the couch to stand in front of him. She stood with hands on her hips, her black eyes piercing into his own. "If it wasn't about that, you wouldn't have just called me 'Miss Mustang'. I haven't been 'Miss Mustang' in years!"

It had been a slip of the tongue, but Ray knew better than to take it back. Maybe if he let her rage long enough, she would fall into a drunken sleep and this would all be forgotten.

"You know what the major difference between 'Miss Mustang' and I is?" She didn't give him an opportunity to answer, instead poking a shaking finger into his chest. "That girl had never killed anyone and never thought she would have to. That girl had never taken advantage of her friend's trust and used the power he gave her to murder."

Ray could tell that her anger stemmed less from his response and more towards her own actions. Behind such furious words, guilt was evident in the wavering of her tone.

Ashamed, Raina turned from him. Though the fireplace was unlit, she stared into it, as if it would give her an answer to her problems. In a show of vulnerability, she wrapped her arms around her chest, hands pressing down on her shoulders.

The sight nearly broke the young Hawkeye's heart.

Silence drifted between them, the only sound coming from outside in the hall, as a band of friends walked drunkenly past her unit. The tension in the room was thick, so thick that Ray felt even a knife couldn't slice through it. There was a charge in the air and he hated to admit what that electricity was stemming from.

Surprising even himself, Ray stood from his position on the couch. He walked without thinking towards his old housemate and turned her around to face him. Once he saw the tears streaming down her face, he knew he was a goner.

He pulled her into a tight hug, one hand drifting to the back of her head. After her initial shock had worn off, Raina responded by wrapping her arms around him, her hands meeting over the expanse of his broad back.

They both tried not to think of the ink that his shirt was hiding underneath her touch.

"Why?" He was finally able to whisper, his breath rustling the hair that laid over her left ear. The sensation sent a shiver down the young girl's spine. "Why did you ask me to come get you? Why did you ask me to come over?"

Burying her face into his jacket, she tried to hide the blush that warmed the surface of her features. "I wanted to feel something besides shame. I wanted to feel something besides guilt."

Ray pulled away from her, holding her at arm's length. While they had been tentative friends during his stay in her home, he couldn't remember a time when he had been this close to her. Even when she had studied the plane of his back, they had always been careful to remain at a reasonable distance.

But now, in the dim light of her living room, both broken from their experiences during the war, it seemed that every wall that they had ever built between them came crashing down.

Ray just had one question. Well, he actually had a million – but there was only one that was burning in the back of his mind.

"Why me?" He asked her quietly, his eyes never straying from her own. "Why would you chose me over some random guy you could have found at the bar?"

The question didn't surprise her – however, it did have her face heating up once more. When she answered though, the words came out simply, as though they were a truth he should have known all along.

"Because I trust you."

There was no hesitation in her voice, just a quiet acceptance.

The trust she put in him was surprising, especially after he had spent so long questioning his trust in her. After she had taken the secrets of his father's alchemy and had committed such heinous acts, he really began to question whether she was the girl he thought she was.

It turned out though, that he had a monster living inside him as well.

He couldn't fault her for falling into the military propaganda in Ishval when he had done exactly the same. She wasn't the only one with blood on her hands – in fact, he had killed so many in Ishval that he was being given the 'honor' of graduating and gaining an instant promotion to second lieutenant upon his entrance into the State Military.

He was just as guilty as her as far as he was concerned. They had both committed war crimes and both deserved to be punished somewhere down the road.

For now, he couldn't deny that he too had been seeking some kind of validation for being alive other than the constant pain and guilt he felt. He had begun to wonder whether he had died back on the battlefield and his body now continued on in an endless loop of time. It was so hard to get a grasp of reality when all you seemed to do was live in the past.

It was that kind of thinking that got him moving.

After little hesitation, Ray leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the plump surface of his companion's lips. He could feel her surprise, even with his eyes tightly closed – however, she soon responded, her arms coming up from around his waist, to wrap around his neck.

He kissed her gently several times, allowing all the affection he felt for her to pour into his actions. Though he could feel Raina's own eagerness, she responded to the ministrations in kind, letting her fingers play with the ends of the dirty blonde hair that rested against the skin of his neck.

"I don't want to take advantage of you." Ray murmured against her lips, pulling back momentarily to catch his breath. Raina was breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against her's. "I don't ever want to hurt you."

His honest words had a smile appearing on her lips, this one finally reaching her eyes as she unwrapped one of her hands from his neck and placed it on his cheek. Their eyes met and in that moment, Ray knew he was gone.

"This is what I want."

Her words weren't slurred and her actions were as sober as they could be after the one drink she had partaken in earlier that hour. This confirmation was all his body needed to jump into action, even with his brain still telling him to stop.

The truth was…he wanted this, too.

His lips descended on her's once more, gently pressing against the smile on her mouth. They stood there for a few moments, reveling in the gentle kiss, arms wrapped around the other before progressing any further.

Just as she usually did, Raina commanded the situation. While keeping the kiss soft, she sighed in invitation, allowing him access to the contours of her mouth. He hesitated for a moment, struck by her boldness, before tentatively sticking his tongue through the slit of her lips. The girl moaned in approval, her own tongue reaching out to dance with his.

As the kiss became more heated, Raina found herself pressing closer to Ray's chest. The hand at the back of his head now tugged roughly at his hair, causing him to grunt in pain, though he didn't break away from her lips. The sound itself sent a shiver down her spine and had an unknown heat pooling at the bottom of her belly.

They were all feverish limbs as they made their way to the single bedroom in the apartment. Neither bothered to turn on the lights, the moonlight pouring through the window enough to guide their hasty actions.

Though their movements were heated, Ray laid Raina down on the comforter with a gentleness that spoke of years of hidden affection. She could see the emotions behind his eyes as he hovered over her, his lips swollen from the kisses they had shared earlier. His expression was so soft, it had her eyes closing in shame.

She truly didn't deserve such a gaze.

Tilting her head back, she led him right where she wanted him. In the lonely nights she had spent in Ishval, she had always imagined what it would be like to have his lips on her neck. Now, she was determined to find out.

"I don't want to leave marks." He wheezed, his breathing heavy from restrained desire. She could tell he was making an effort to go slow for her, unsure of her reaction to the experience.

The woman simply smiled in response.

"My persona is a flirt." She whispered, lowly. With her hands wrapped around his neck, she dragged him down far enough so that she could breathe against the skin of his ear. She could feel her grin turn proud as she felt him shiver in response. "You make it more believable by leaving marks."

The alcohol still coursing through his veins took that as a good enough reason to proceed.

At the first touch of his lips against the tender flesh of her neck, Raina closed her eyes in bliss. He started by leaving small, wet kisses against the skin, before following them up with a puff of air that had her toes curling over the edge of the bed. She couldn't hold back the breathy sigh that left her lips once he paused to suck at the particularly sensitive flesh over her pulse point.

Though she expected the act to be rough, he sucked gently, still pouring every ounce of affection he had for her into every heated movement.

After pulling a bit too roughly with his teeth, Raina let out a moan, which had the man lapping at the faint marks he had left behind on the pale surface of her neck. The bite had been gentle, Ray still fearful to try anything too extreme, not knowing the girl's preferences when it came to bedroom activities, but Raina didn't seem to mind. In fact, she pulled his face closer to her neck, her quickened breath practically begging him to continue.

He continued these ministrations for a few minutes, remaining careful in his actions, until Raina had decided she had enough of following his lead. He couldn't remember how, but at some point, she had rolled him over and on to his back, her legs straddled on either side of him, and her own lips attacking his neck.

Ray hissed at the pressure he now had on his lap, trying hard not to give in to the animalistic urges that threatened to make their way to the surface. His breathing became harder as she began to unbutton his shirt, her kisses drifting down the planes of his abdomen and causing the muscles to contract.

Maybe he had been right all along. Maybe he had died in Ishval and somehow found his way to heaven.

In a whirl of limbs and scattered clothes, the two found themselves bared to each other, the moonlight the only other witness to their act of desperation. They had both said they wanted to feel something and now they were getting the opportunity to provide that validation to the other.

Ray was gentle as he pushed forward, but became concerned as he saw the pain etched on his childhood friend's features. After a few minutes, though, she seemed to find herself lost in their closeness and thoroughly enjoying the act of making love to one another. Finally, she wasn't only feeling grief and guilt, she was feeling pleasure.

As they both came undone, their teeth clenched in an attempt to keep quiet in case Raina's neighbors were listening in, their sweat slicked bodies automatically clinged to the other.

Just like magnets.

Although he enjoyed the actions in the moment, it wasn't until after it was all said and done, that the guilt finally replaced the heat at the bottom of his stomach. With Raina curled against his chest, he couldn't help but hate himself at reveling in such actions.

He had tainted her once again.

It wasn't enough that he had given her a powerful alchemy at too young of an age, but now he had also taken the last ounce of innocence she had if the blood on the bedsheets was any indication.

In the aftermath, Ray found that his breathing still would not slow. Though Raina was relaxed in his grasp, a peaceful expression alight on her features underneath the sweat soaked bangs of her forehead, such peace would not find him in this situation.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The room had been silent for several minutes, the only sound being that of their gentle breathing. Raina looked up at him, her dark, tired eyes staring curiously into his.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was deep, the remnants of passion still lingering in her tone as she reached a hand up to lay on his cheek. "What did I not tell you?"

"That I was your first."

The words caused a blush to develop on the girl's exotic features, bringing forth more bashful a reaction than the act they had been partaking in just minutes before. "I thought you knew."

Her words were honest, so Ray had no reason to suspect deception. Sighing, his breath fanning over the bare skin of her shoulder and causing her to shuffle closer, Ray fought the urge to dig his nails into her side in frustration with himself.

Of course, he should have known.

Despite Raina's bold personality and naturally flirty nature, he had never seen her come close to a man in any intimate fashion. The only man she seemed to spend any amount of time with alone had been Hughes and everyone knew that Hughes' heart belonged to another. With how young she was when she joined the military, he guessed he should have assumed that she was not as experienced between the sheets as she appeared.

However, with the way the recruits that he bunked with at the Academy acted, he had suspected that her experience during training was similar. He figured with her extroverted nature and rather alluring features, she had had no trouble at all finding men to keep her company during her time at basic training.

He guessed he was being a bit of a hypocrite.

"You were my first, too."

The words were so quiet that, for a moment, Raina wasn't even sure she had heard him. In the pale moonlight, she searched his features, looking for any sign of jest. She saw none.

"Really?" She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice, her arm finding its way to his chest so that she could rest her chin against the back of her hand. "I would have thought you would have gotten plenty of experience in the Academy."

The man gave her a wry grin; his thoughts having been the same in regards to her. "I guess we were both wrong in our assumptions then."

Raina smiled in return, her cheek resting against the skin of her hand. The look she gave him was so affectionate that it sent his heart into another round of palpitations. His guilt still weighed heavily on his mind though.

"I hate that you wasted your first time on a lecherous man like me."

Raina's brows furrowed at the term. "Lecherous? You're four years my senior – that's practically nothing when you consider we're both adults."

Ray knew he was being ridiculous pulling the age card – however, it still didn't sit right with him. "I just hate that I took your last piece of innocence from you."

Raina huffed, sitting up so that her face was level with his. Ever the bold one, the young woman didn't even attempt to hide the sight of her unbound chest from him. Ray fought to keep his eyes locked on her's, refusing to gaze upon her in a disrespectful manner after what she had given to him.

"Ray Hawkeye," The young woman poked her hand to his chest, the accusation clear in her tone. "I chose to give this part of myself to you. You took nothing that I wasn't willing to give. If anyone should feel guilty, it should be me. I had no idea that I was taking the same thing from you."

Ray wouldn't have her feeling any remorse on his part. "Don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't have given this to you unless I wanted to. Even though I feel guilty over the whole thing, I don't feel regret for anything I've given you."

"Not even Flame Alchemy?"

Well…

"No," He finally answered. He gazed up into Raina's deep black eyes, his words brooking no room for argument. "You are the only person in the world that I trust enough to share that with and I know you will repent for what was done in Ishval. Once you burn my back, we will no longer have to worry about the evil that Flame Alchemy can cause."

Raina grimaced at the mention of their promise. She sunk back to his chest, her chin resting on her hand once more. Unlike before, her eyes averted from his gaze.

"You promised," He reminded her, bringing a hand up to brush a few errant strands of dark hair away from her forehead. Her eyes still wouldn't meet his. "Once I've graduated, I want you to hold up your end of the deal. I want you to set me free from my burden."

"You'll hate me," Raina muttered quietly, staring at the crisp white sheets wedged between their bodies. "I'm glad I had this moment with you, because I doubt you'll ever be able to look at me the same again."

"That's not true," Ray assured her, pulling her in closer. His actions caused her to glance up, her eyes finally meeting his own. "I could never hate you. I tried – oh, trust me, I tried. When I found out what you were doing in Ishval, I wanted to hate you – but I couldn't. It turns out, you're just as human as the rest of us."

This did little to help quell her fears. All she could think of is the smell of burning flesh and the fear that would grip her heart knowing that it was his. They still had a few weeks before he graduated and Raina hoped it was time enough to get him to change his mind.

"This can't happen again."

His words brought her back from her thoughts, fear gripping her heart for another reason entirely.

"What do you mean?" She heard herself ask, but it was almost as if she was listening in on a conversation from far away. Though she knew what he was going to say, it didn't help her increasing heart rate or the nervous sweat that broke out over her skin.

"We can't have an intimate relationship with each other," Ray clarified, back to his usual blunt way of wording things. "Once I've graduated, this will become fraternization. If you plan on one day becoming Fuhrer, the last thing you need is a court martial on your record."

"So you have decided to stay in the military?" Raina asked, knowing that before they had left Ishval, Ray had begun to question his path in life. She knew he had always wanted to become an engineer and she found herself secretly hoping that he would still pursue that career at some point in the future.

"Not yet." Ray admitted, his eyes narrowing pensively as he stared at the ceiling. "But you're not the only one who needs to repent, so I think I will likely follow in your footsteps."

"Just as you did before."

Ray smiled, though it held no humor. "Yes, just as I did before."

"You know," Raina's brows rose, her hand guiding his chin so that he was once more looking at her. "That didn't work out so well the first time."

"It didn't." He admitted, placing his hand over her's where it lay on his cheek. "But I have a promise to live up to as well."

Raina couldn't help but think that one day these promises were going to be the death of them.

"Hm, we'll see."