#still baffled by the amount of support

[neckromantics]

More creepy and unsettling, creature Astarion please.

I beg of thee. Vampires are meant to be an uncanny valley type of thing. An undead creature of the night that passes itself as just the right amount of living and mortal for you to let your guard down. I need more examples of his vampiric nature showing once he's grown comfortable enough, and I need it now.

~

An Astarion who is so silent in his movements that you often got jump scared by it in the earlier stages of your relationship.

You'd be lounging around on the sofa. Reading a book, lost in thought, all serene and cozy beneath a nice knitted blanket-- just having an all around nice, relaxing time when you see movement out of the corner of your eye. You glance up for just a moment, to the space before you that was previously unoccupied, and his entire face is suddenly hovering right in front of you.

Just waiting. Not moving. Pupils blown so huge that there's barely any color left to his eyes. Fangs are peeking out over the bruise-purple skin of his bottom lip. He's pallid. White as a corpse. Definitely in need of a good feeding.

His intentions were entirely innocent. He really only meant to ask you a question, and here you are being all dramatic and jumping several feet into the air and throwing your book off to the side in a panic. Thankfully, you're able to catch yourself before you full on shriek in his face.

(You love him and his ghoulishly handsome face, you really and truly do, but you sincerely thought for a moment that he was a spectre come to take you to the afterlife.)

~

Astarion, who routinely forgets to breathe. Yanno, like it's nothing.

You're well aware of the fact that vampires don't need to breathe. It's more of a force of habit than anything else, really-- something left over from when he was still mortal, he says.

Although, during bouts of intense emotion, or some sort of uh, stimulation, the focus on something so trivial gets put on the backburner for a bit.

The two of you will be sharing a particularly passionate kiss (or worse) when you feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest stop short. It's like all of the air has gotten caught in his lungs, and he ends up making these creaky grudge-like sounds in place of his usual low moaning. A clicking in the back of his throat in place of a sigh. If you play your cards just right, there might even be a rattling from deep within his chest that almost sounds like a purr.

When he finally does breathe, usually due to a well executed nip to his bottom lip, or the gentle brush of your fingers against one of his ears as you play with his hair, it comes out as an animalistic hiss. A sharp, choking gasp that sends goosebumps down the length of your arms.

~

How you catch him watching you sleep.

How you'll wake up in the pitch black of your bedroom in a cold sweat. Your hair is stood on end, a fearful shudder threatening to rattle your frame. A spike in your pulse that has your sleep addled brain doing somersaults in your skull. All of your instinctual alarm bells go off at once, telling you that something must be terribly wrong. Something must be watching you.

You try to blink away the bleariness-- try to shake off the fog of sleep for long enough to get your bearings, and catch a glint in the dark so ominous that for a moment you're scared stock still.

Something is watching you. Someone, rather.

Astarion's eyes gleam back at you in the dark like a wild animal's might. A bobcat, maybe, like the ones you'd often find stalking pray outside the tree line of camp all those nights ago. Pupils that glow a filmy, holographic orange despite there being no light to reflect off of them.

You don't notice until after you've taken a second to calm yourself that he's hovering over you. The bed just barely dips from his weight as he supports himself, and you'd be baffled by it all if you had any braincells left.

"Go back to sleep, darling." His voice is so soft, even over the pounding against your eardrums. Soothing. Tranquilizing. And though your eyes do begin to feel heavy, you're not exactly in the mood for rest anymore.

Especially not when he's pressing cold, feather-light kisses down the length of your throat not a moment later.

~

Please, I beg. Give me more.

[trashfangirlsworld]

Hello! I've been inactive due to the current events in the mcyt community, but I've been keeping up with the qsmp admin situation and I thought I'd share some opinions because the amount of doomposting I've seen the last few weeks has been more than I've seen in any fandom in a while and I feel like it's reached the point where people really need to chill the fuck out because they're not thinking straight and actively not helping. Everything I'm gonna say is based on stuff I've seen on both tumblr and twitter.

they should not promote/release merch! : one of the things that baffles me the most tbh; how do you expect any employee to be payed then? Merch is so far the only big source of income for the server besides q's own cc salary or whatever income they get through the official qsmp channel on twitch and youtube (which I don't think is a lot). "I get that they said they have no funds, but still it doesn't feel right"... sorry but at this point I don't know what to tell you, do you expect them to pull money out of their asses? You can't demand that they stop making merch and then complain that they can't afford the twitter admins at the same time. If you don't feel comfortable buying anything from them it's fine obviously, but if your reason for it is that you're helping the admins then I have bad news for you. I have seen people propose that quackity sets up a patreon, and while I think it would be a good idea, I understand why he's not doing it, since with the merch he can at least give something back to the people that choose to support his project instead of people just giving him money for free, especially with what's happening now. Also with how much hate he's been receiving simply for the merch I can't imagine that a patreon would be recieved well.

we don't know if the money is going to the admins/ they should not use pomme's likeness! : the money is definitely going to go to the employees and admins because otherwise the server would not last. And as much as I understand people feeling protective over pomme's admin, quackity studios is very much allowed to sell merch of the character because it is not the likeness of the admin, it's a minecraft model made by the people that work there. Would you have rathered they skip her character entirely? Do you really think that would have been okay?. Also correct me if I'm wrong, but I've seen posts and tweets saying that pomme's admin has been confirmed to come back with the other eggs whenever it happens by pierre, who talked with her admin.

the admins of the update accounts got fired, it means they want to fire everyone, they aren't making things better! : it sucks that the updates accounts had to end and I feel bad for every twitter admin that clearly cared a lot about the project, but unfortunately it had to happen if there simply isn't enough money to pay them adequately like they deserved and ultimately the update accounts were not essential to keep the project going, so it makes sense that they were let go unfortunately. This is not gonna be the case for the egg admins because if they got fired (which they didn't), the server would basically end. Just because a cc does not know when they will be back does not mean it's not gonna happen. Just because tubbo randomly said that he's not sure if they will be back does not mean they were fired; tubbo is normally not a reliable source of information, even less so when he's been live nonstop for the past 20 days, which is prior to everything happening. If you genuinely didn't expect a reduction in non essential staff considering everything, then you have unreasonable expectations on how this stuff goes. As I write this, I'm seeing people saying that "they would understand this decision if q had set up a patreon to pay the admins", and once again I don't understand how people don't realize why quackity might not be keen on the idea of having his fans pay his own employees for his own project instead of, you know, doing it himself; and, again, do not fool yourself into thinking it would be recieved well. That being said, it's fair to criticize how everything was communicated to the admins, but I'll get to this in more detail later.

quackity should not have uninstalled social media, he's trying to avoid everything! : he's not avoiding anything, he's been off social media for a while now, which is why it took him that long to remove wilbur from the server. He has every right to not want to look at social media, as his focus should be on restructuring his server instead of doomscrolling on twitter because people think he needs to see how much people dislike him. The only people that he should talk to are those that have important information to tell him, like josè with the document. He explicitly said on stream where to contact him if you have helpful information and I'm sure that despite multiple well liked posts saying not to spam his email, people are definitely doing it anyway, which is probably gonna slow the whole thing down even more. I hope josè's document is able to be seen with pierre's help as well.

quackity studios is not communicating with their employees and leaving them in the dark and that's not okay : I agree with this. i think a huge chunk of doomposting lately has been due the lack of communication not with the audience, but with the admins, and they deserve to know what is happening behind the scenes more then us since this is about their current or future job.... that being said, I do kind of understand why they're being so secretive and shutting everyone out, and that's due to all the "leaks" that have been spread online. I understand the anger but I really wish some people would realize that discussing leaked bts lore stuff in ccs discord servers does not help the situation at all and instead makes it seem like they're only doing this to rile up the fandom against quackity studios by using the lore of people's fav characters.

At the end of the day, I think people just aren't used to dealing with a situation that does not have a clear cut solution and someone to clearly hate, so the result is this doomposting and the over aggressiveness toward anything related to the project. Personally, I haven't witnessed anything that made me lose faith in the qsmp like some people have been saying, as every change that we've seen so far coincides with what quackity said on stream a while ago. I only wish things were communicated properly to the admins clearly, as they're the ones most affected, so I hope that's resolved soon. Ultimately quackity is singlehandedly restructuring the server from basically zero, has had to fire people that were misusing money and power and, depending on what josè's document said, is probably gonna have to fire some more. This is not an easy process, nor a quick one, you're not gonna hear about sunshine and rainbows for a while and doomposting about everything you hear because you expected quick change is useless. Think before you speak, have a clear head and most importantly have empathy.

[chocsra]

"Held like Glass, Kissed Alike"

chuuya x fem! reader - how he holds you 🙇‍♀️

a/n: to all my physical touch bbgs 🫶

content: how chuuya holds you, kissing, holding hands, fluff, drabble/small oneshot, smug! chuuya, soft! chuuya, not proofread, prolly grammar errors

"chuuya! hold my bag while you're at it!"

'cocky demands from a cocky person', chuuya thinks. "tsk," he tuts--the downpour of rain at the moment was horrific, especially in a city, a populated, developed, city drowned in sad puddles of slushy water. you and your trusted friend, chuuya nakahara, had came to go shopping, and unbeknownst to the subsequent downfall, you both stupidly didn't bring an umbrella.

so when the rain fell, he swiftly grabbed the closest umbrella in one of the restaurant's stands, successfully covering the both of you. chuuya is one of your close friends, and even though he's slightly annoyed most of the time and yaps a whole lot, he's also decently reliable.

you on the other hand, felt like you needed to make his life worse, a living hell. wanting to feel like those clingy girlfriends in romcoms, you pulled down your purse and dramatically handed it to him. watching as his eyebrows furrow in confusion, "might as well hold my bag while you're at it!" and yes, even with a baffled scoff, the redhead still held your bag for the rest of the day.

"i just realised, why do you always wear gloves?"

a romantic tune of jazz sung in the air, fancy clinks and clanks of cutlery swang past as you and your now fellow date, chuuya nakahara, sat in one of the finest restaurants in yokohama.

the ginger chews on his food intently, elbow planted on the table as he takes two gloved fingers, and motions you to come closer. you cock a brow, leaning forward, ear facing him.

"got a nasty case of athletes foot, but on my fingers." that's one way to swoon you, great work chuuya. the mafioso wiggles his eyebrows sarcastically watching as you sink away back into your seat. "thank you s'much," you reply, now picking at your food, "think I just lost my appetite."

the redhead snickers and pinches the tip of his gloves in between his teeth, removing it. "I'm joking, here." he smirks, a large hand urging you to place yours atop of his. you follow, feeling the warmth of his palms spread to yours, his hands were pretty damn big, bigger than a lot of men despite of his height.

"you like holding hands, hm?" the mafiosos smirks playfully as you try to hide the big smile creeping on your lips. he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, gently looking as the moonlight illuminates your eyes focused on your hands. chuuya felt damn lucky he could ever get someone to look at him like that. the redhead darts his eyes back to you and your interlocked hands, whispering, "i do too, it's okay." even though chuuya was a terrifying mafia executive, he couldn't help but hide the boyish smile as he held your hand in between his fingers, feeling as your soft skin smooths over his rarely bare, lithe hands.

"this is rush hour in public transit, would ya look at that?"

you beam a light-hearted smile at the redhead beside you, in one of the most crowded subways. sweat and humid air pierced through, and so did the amount of space you could breathe in. chuuya nakahara, your newly and beloved boyfriend, hasn't taken public transportation in years. so he wasn't used to the crushing claustrophobia of other people at all, you, on the other hand seemed rather desensitized to it. smiling and rambling about how 'it's not that bad'. the redhead could only scoff in return, his right hand tightening on the bar for support.

"actually," you continue, clutching your purse in your left hand, "you haven't been here in a while, have you?" you smirk teasingly, causing chuuya to groan in annoyance at your words. the subway doors opening yet again, "well, consider this your fir--"

a new line of bustling people rammed into the compartment, as they filled the station, you stepped back in oblivion, almost seperating you and your fellow company. but with a calculated pull, chuuya hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, thumb rubbing at your side.

the mafioso lets out a dramatic sigh, "yeah, well? continue?" you look at him in a surprised gaze, eyes darting to the hand still tugged around your waist, even as the sea of other people weren't in threat of a stampede anymore. you felt a knot twist in your stomach as chuuya cocks a brow at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence. "shit, well, now i forgot."

"opinion on people who sleep with socks on?"

you weren't so used to grand gestures in general, but every month your boyfriend, chuuya nakahara, surprised you with something new just because you could deal with his shit. this month, he took you stargazing, with a small theme park next to your designated spot. neon arcade lights reflected off your face and eyes as he took a gloved hand and brushed away some strands with an ever soft graze of his fingers.

you, feeling foreign to the affectionate brush of his fingers, smile tugging at his lips, eyes rested on yours, asked the most random and stupid question that popped in your head. "what's your opinion on people who sleep with socks on?" the ginger chuckles softly at your question, still cupping your cheek, watching as your eyes drag away to anything but him. "shut up already." chuuya smiles boyishly, which reminds you of his raw humanity every once in a while. you hum in a quipped agreement before stiffling a laugh.

"happy not-so-ani-aniversary, pretty girl." chuuya's pillowy lips come down on your left cheek, leaving a soft peck as his thumbs grazes against the side of your face. his lips then connect to your right cheek, making your pinch one of your eyes shut as the redhead pecks your nose. uncontrollably smiling as you giggle, pushing your hair to the side as he presses his soft lips against your forehead, bringing yourselves down.

the mafioso brings you in closer, "i love you." he mutters, as he connects your lips to his. a soft fluttering in his stomach occurs as he feels you smile against his lips, taking his fingers in between your hair as he smooths through it. he was truly enamoured, enchanted, beyond bewitched. chuuya took in how good it feels to have you, a girlfriend, an asshole, a companion.

from every place he held, it was always just you. chuuya knew, that if his fingers fit so perfect in the interlocking of yours, curled around your waist, or cupping your cheek, he was meant to hold you. to be yours, as they say.

a/n: sorry for my vanishing bbgs, ill upload more at christmas break😔😔

[weatheringandweary]

The “Jason died to teach Apollo empathy” take reallllly bothers me, because… no..? That’s not what happened..??

Ignoring the fact that Apollo was willing to take his own life minutes before in an attempt to save Meg, Piper, and Jason - he’s been putting his life on the line for others since THO.

You can make the argument that the only reason he went after Kayla and Austin was because they were his kids if you want, but even throughout The Dark Prophecy he was willing to die if it meant saving someone else. He went out of his way to save Lityerses despite the fact he was his enemy, he straight up admitted to Trophonius that he was willing to die for Meg even though she betrayed him for Nero in the prior book, and then he went back to fight for the Waystation with a broken arm because they went through so much effort in supporting him through his trials. It’s actually baffling just how easy it is for him to fall in love with humanity, it’s not something he had to learn!

Jason had stuck his neck out for Apollo in BOO because he saw injustice. He knew Zeus was looking for a scapegoat and he used what little power he had against the king of the gods to try to spare his half-brother. Jason knew that even though he had been nothing but loyal to the gods and had saved the world twice over (cough cough fighting a titan bare handed and defeating Gaea alongside the seven cough cough), he was still just a cog in the system. He was only mortal. The most change he could make to the status-quo was ensuring that the other minor gods were represented in Camp Jupiter, but then he was issued a death sentence months later, so what power did he have really?

But you know who could make a difference?

Apollo. Apollo could.

The thing is, as much as Apollo complained about being a mortal, I honestly believe he would have rejected godhood had Jason not died. He had almost died several times over and the only one who offered him any Olympian assistance was his sister. He resented the Olympians for having all the power in the world and choosing to use none of it to help him or his friends. Apollo's biggest fear - one that overruled dying in my opinion - was becoming a god again, once again a puppet of his father, and falling back into his old ways out of fear and self-preservation.

I can't even count the amount of times where he was on the brink of death and felt relief and satisfaction at the thought of everything being over. He didn't want to die, but it was an escape from having to one day stand up against his father, his abuser. It was the easier alternative even if it was ultimately the worse one.

But Jason made him promise to keep going. To remember.

He had to get back to Olympus, remember all that has been sacrificed in order to return him to godhood so that he could make a better future. He has to live forever to ensure that generation after generation of demigods have someone supporting them indefinitely. So that they would not be as fearful and powerless as he was. He has to be immortal again so that he can use his power for good, as much as that scares him.

He had to become a god so he can look Zeus in the eyes and say "No, this is never happening again."

That's what Apollo learned.

[netscapenavigator-official]

The amount of leftists who can't tell the difference between

"You should recycle, but it's not going to stop impeding climate doom"

and

"You shouldn't recycle because it's not your fault the planet is imploding"

is baffling. Like, you're allowed to be mad about greenwashing while still trying to live as sustainably as possible. Buying glassware instead of plasticware isn't gonna stop the planet from falling apart, but it's certainly better than saying "ah fuck it" and supporting the production and landfilling of plastic waste. Even if it's just by a tiny, individual's amount, it's still better than doing nothing. This "all or nothing" mentality that these people claim is tearing apart American politics is quite literally at the heart of their entire belief system.

[aimbutmiss]

Crocodile couldn't digest Mihawk and Buggy getting closer at first. Everything about their shift in dynamic bothered him.

It was another boring late night when he first realised the two were closer than he anticipated. He was sitting in his office, staring at the papers in front of him in futile effort. His eyes were refusing to focus and let him read their content. He had lost track of time once again, as he did almost every night. Overworking came as naturally to him as breathing. He slowly got up from his seat with a sigh as he realised he couldn't get work done in his state, so he might as well get some sleep to work tomorrow.

Work, work, work. That's all he'd ever known. Because even when the whole world is against you, hard work always paid off. Blood, sweat and tears never betrayed you like people did. He had always lived his life according to this ideal, and he didn't have any plans to change it anytime soon.

He walked out of the office to make his way to his sleeping quarters, but stopped in his tracks as he was passing by the library. The sound of chatting and laughing was hushed, but still obvious in the silence that covered the island during the night. Normally he couldn't care less about some crew members doing God knows what, but his tiredness made it harder to think. So, he couldn't ignore his curiosity as instincts took over, his feet acting on their own. He tried to listen in, walking closer to the tent walls separating them. He quickly realised it was the clown and hawk eyes on the other side, which was ridiculous. What were the two of them doing in the middle of the night at the library? It seemed they were talking about stupid, random things. He heard something about nail polish, utterly useless.

Crocodile would have left after satiating his curiosity, but something kept him in his place. That something was the fact that the two men addressed each other by their names. Mihawk and Buggy. Not hawk eyes and the clown. Since when did hawk eyes respect the clown enough to address him by name? So, he kept listening in instead of leaving, even though he really should have gone to sleep by then. The conversation shifted... to how soft hawk eyes' hands were? Weird. Then it was completely silent. Even weirder. It took everything in Crocodile to not barge into the room to see what his colleagues were doing. But he didn't care, he didn't have any reason to. So he just left, not caring if the other two could hear his angry stomping through the thin tent walls.

Over the next week, he was hyper aware of every interaction the two had. The soft lingering touches, the quickly exchanged looks, the sheer amount of care hawk eyes seemed to have for the clown... it all baffled him. What did Mihawk see in that mess of a man painted over with an even bigger mess? And why did it bother him so much? They were two adults, they could do as they pleased and it would be none of his business. But something kept eating at his insides whenever he saw the two together. It was probably because whatever arrangement they had going on went completely against his initial plans for Cross Guild. He thought he would be using Buggy with Mihawk by his side, and the man would support him. And that was indeed the case at the beginning, the two of them bullying the clown relentlessly, just for fun sometimes. But the swordsman just had to go betray him and go soft. He really didn't get it. What could Buggy have done to do a complete 180 on this man?

When he reluctantly approached Mihawk about it, discreetly of course, the man simply said they had a book club. What a ridiculous excuse. "Do all book clubs entail fucking each other?!" Crocodile wanted to ask but bit his tongue. He had no proof of a sexual relationship going on between the two, but the signs were alarmingly increasing. He saw Mihawk walk out of Buggy's tent one morning! But again, it was none of his business...

The late nights he spent in his office slowly turned from working overtime to thinking about what the two men were doing. There were very few things that could make him stop thinking about work, so that meant this situation was getting out of control. Crocodile hated losing control. He had to do something, but he didn't know what. He didn't have the right to stop whatever the two were doing, but he clearly couldn't just ignore them either.

While Crocodile was losing sleep over this, his struggle was not hidden from the watching eyes. Everyone realised there was something wrong with the man. He was much more irritable than usual, so everyone was acting more careful to try and stay in his good graces, but it was getting harder and harder every day. It was affecting crew morale, and therefore a lot of the Cross Guild functions. Buggy and Mihawk were enjoying watching Crocodile struggle with his feelings at first, but when they realised it was starting to affect their business they decided to cut their fun short and try to get the man to stop ignoring his feelings.

Easier said than done.

It took a lot to make the man see they liked him. In the end, it was the small things accumulating over time like hawk eyes offering to give him a massage after a long meeting, the clown offering to polish his hook, Mihawk making him breakfast, Buggy feeding the fruitwanis... Crocodile was confused to say the least, but he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the extra attention and care. He couldn't help but reciprocate the acts, being a lot softer with them both. It hit him one random evening, when they were having dinner together.

"Are you two courting me?"

Buggy and Mihawk shared a glance and broke into laughter.

"Thank fuck, I thought he'd never catch on."

"Took you long enough."

Let's just say they made up for all the lost time that night.

[maxdibert]

Feelings around Snape now are so, so different to how they were in 2007 when the final book was released (though there was a fair amount of infuriating sexual assault apologia on LiveJournal back then too). I do think that the predominant factor in the baffling online discourse around Snape over the last decade is the American cultural disconnect with Britain. Anglophone countries, but totally different societies. Current American dominance wins out on the internet platforms used for fandom. The unwillingness to consider the nuances in a ostracised boy who flirts with a fascist cult while looking for purpose definitely seems rooted in America’s extraordinarily polarised political environment. The ‘incel’ label incorrectly applied to Snape is based entirely on American archetypes of the male school shooter who couldn’t get a girlfriend.

I saw infinite dismayed reactions to the rumoured casting along the lines of ‘but if they cast Snape as a black man I’ll have to sympathise with him!’ which basically sums the disconnect up. The industrial history of 1970s Britain isn’t on mainstream fandom’s radar, everything is seen through the prism of America’s particular flavour of identity politics.

I completely agree, and in fact, this is something I’ve been thinking about for a while. It’s not at all a coincidence that the most fervent Snape haters I encounter online—or at least those who fail to understand how class dynamics work—are primarily from the States. And I say from the States because this doesn’t seem to be the case with people from Latin America, whose societies were colonized under a strong framework of social classes and strata due to the influence of Spanish imperialism at the time, in addition to being victims of multiple dictatorships, authoritarian regimes, and narco-governments. This gives people in Latin America a broader social perspective.

The States' people ones (because United States is not America, America is a whole continent and as a spanish person with a lot of Latin American friends i find quite disrespectful to call United States people Americans as if they where the only americans in the world lol) operate under a neoliberal worldview that is very different from this and also very different from Europe’s perspective on class struggle. Europe experienced fascism, and it’s Europeans who understand how fascism rose to power—not as something driven purely by economic elites suddenly deciding to start killing people, but as deeply populist political movements widely accepted by the social majority and even by much of the working class. These movements used propaganda to push rhetoric that fed into people’s needs and promised to address their economic and social problems.

This provides an objective perspective on how voting for Hitler or joining the Hitler Youth didn’t automatically make someone an inhuman monster. It was something that regular people, everyday individuals, did—people who didn’t necessarily have a vile or ruthless intent toward anyone but believed in a particular discourse and rhetoric. Understanding this is crucial for grasping how a character like Snape could end up joining the Death Eaters. But if you’re, I don’t know, living in a small town in Wisconsin and all you know is that it’s trendy to call any Trump supporter a Nazi and that everything is “Nazi” without having the slightest idea of what a Nazi really is, then you end up buying into a ridiculously simplistic narrative without any critical thinking or thorough analysis of the social and economic contexts that drive a society toward far-right ideologies.

I’m sorry, but they’re living in parallel realities. At the end of the day, the Harry Potter series, no matter how politically clueless Rowling is or how much her worldview is utterly bourgeois and biased, is still British. Britain is in Europe, and fascism was experienced in Britain just as it was in the rest of Europe. Similarly, Britain remains a parliamentary monarchy with a class system that isn’t based solely on economics and where a person’s value isn’t measured solely by their wealth but also by their lineage. It’s an aristocratic society, and aristocracy will always rank above the bourgeoisie. These people truly don’t understand this, nor do they make the slightest effort to try. And if they don’t do their homework, honestly, their opinions are worthless garbage.

[mawvax]

I’m kind of baffled by the amount of people saying Megatron was right. I totally get being sympathetic to him and his anger but right?

Brother was literally doing the exact same thing as Sentinel by the end of the film. Tearing down the previous government forcefully through violence with justice for the self and only using their own judgement of morality. Hell, he even ripped out Megatronus’s cog like Sentinel - dude is probably rolling in the allspark from this desecration of his cog.

Not to mention? Trying to kill OP again to make it stick??? Cause the first time didn’t?? I get being angry and done staying the “follower” like you have been your whole life, but oh my days. The crashout is galaxy threatening - above all, he needs a therapist. Get Rung in this universe.

How in the span of a few hours he villainizes Orion in his mind from being his best friend to another lying leader just like Sentinel is mind boggling. Never seen a person get more blinded by rage.

By all means, Orion could and should have been a better friend and listener - but he did NOTTT deserve all that aftermath.

Sentinel SHOULD die imo - there’s no argument against that. But it should be done fairly through the people and not decided by one mech. Maybe they even decide on something more fitting than a fast death. A new peaceful age really shouldn’t begin with an execution.

Optimus was more worried about exposing the truth to the people, while Megatron was more worried about tearing out the lie for his revenge.

Also, the “why did he banish Megatron?”. Like, what ELSE could he do??

1. he's absolutely dangerous. This mech was just about to singlehandedly take Cybertron's future into his own hands with the support of the old high guard behind him.

2. Optimus can't kill him - one, he still cares too much despite one murder and another attempted murder on himself by Megatron. Two, that would be massively hypocritical of him.

3. He sure as hell can't arrest Megatron - can you imagine the fallout? Optimus arresting another new faction leader as one himself immediately; it's asking for the High Guard to a fight without anyone to even arrest them in the first place.

So can’t kill him, can’t arrest him, sure as hell cannot hug and makeup - 1. You just tried to kill me again?? 2. You’re probably going to try again??? I don’t trust you anymore too after you literally killed me. The last words you said and I heard as I DIED was “I’m done saving you.” - so really, banish him and hope for the best when they meet again. (It goes the worst possible way)

[tabbiwritesgenshin]

failing light | various

synopsis: how would they act when you die

genre: angst

word count: 1,119

a/n: I don't have anything interesting to say but can I add how baffling it is the support my previous post got? like damn, i went from 20 notes to 253. tysm y'all omg

Collei wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, to yell, her whole world had crumbled in only a few glances, yet she couldn’t. She was struck with both fear and shock, you were her most beloved person in the entirety of Teyvat, you were the only person who had shown her any love in a long while and now..you were just..dead. She could only stare at your body for what felt like hours until she eventually lost consciousness.

Eula clutched your body with all she had, she had to make sure your last moments were ones of peace. She tried her best to contain herself, to ignore her tears, to do everything she could to look strong for you, yet, she couldn’t. She was left as a crying mess as the concept of losing the only person who loved her dawned on her mind. 

Again she had lost, again Ei had weeped, again was someone else taken from her, again, she felt hopeless, like she had lost everything she held dear. She wanted to move on, she wished to maintain strong, that’s what you desired, that’s what she promised to you..yet she couldn’t. The pain was too much, the grief overtook her. Again would she retire to her Plane of Euthymia, again would she abandon everyone, again would she despise herself.

Ganyu was afraid, she was scared, terrified of the idea of losing you. She tried everything she could yet nothing worked. The half-Qilin tried every bit of knowledge she had on medicine to try to save you, even those used only by the Adepti, if she could, she’d even give out her life for you. Perhaps it was due to the panic of losing someone again, but during her numerous attempts to extend your life, she hadn’t accepted the fact that you were truly gone.

Kujou Sara was unfortunately experienced in the concept of loss and death so when you approached her with heavy battle wounds, she knew better than to panic. Her pain and grief were incomparable to whatever suffering she had seen before in her life, yet, she kept strong. She didn’t want you to pass in fear or sadness. The moment you died it shattered whatever facade was left in her. She collapsed onto the floor, still clutching your cold body. The mighty Tengu general of the Shogunate was lost..truly destroyed.

The skies were split and thunder roared as The Raiden Shogun weeped to your lifeless body. All semblance of hope..all happiness which she had ever felt in her life vanished as her eyes gazed at the ones which had given her so much with so little in return. No longer would the Shogun hold back against humanity, she would make all who dared harm her beloved pay, none shall be spared. All will suffer for the sake of eternity so no one she held dear would fear again.

Rosaria always acted like she didn’t care, Rosaria always acted like nothing mattered to her, even when she had someone to love, someone who loved her, she still acted with this cold exterior, yet, when she was faced with the news that the most significant person in her life had died every facade she had, every coldness in her heart, they were crushed as a sense of hopelessness would crush her like a boulder. Never again would that be a facade, after you had died, after she was left alone once more, that coldness overtook her heart and no amount of warmth could heat it ever again.

The Anemo Archon Venti would hold you on his lap as you slowly passed away, even in your last moments, his love was there to comfort you. Even after you were gone, he would not leave this position, even when you were buried, even when everyone thought you had died alone, even when everyone thought you two hadn’t even spoken to eachother, he would always be present in the place of your passing. Every night, every month, every year, he would sit there for hours at a time, drinking away as he talked to himself in only praises of yourself.

The Wanderer felt different, he was the creation of a god, mortals were below him, none were equal to him, he was above every single one of those worms, yet, there was one of those so called “worms” that for a single moment, for a brief second, could make him believe he was only a human, that he could feel happy, he could feel everything those he called below him could feel. There was only one person who could make him happy, only one person who could help him forget about his betrayals yet even them suffered, even them were hunted down due to his past, even them suffered because of him. Some would say, that the Wanderer, after so long, would return to who he was, even for a single minute, would enjoy murder once more.

He knew it would happen, a karmic debt was placed on Xiao a long time ago, he knew it, he knew that those around him would suffer because of it, but even then, the mighty conqueror of demons could also fall prey to the enticing and intoxicating love he used to think he was undeserving of. His more rational side was prepared for such an occurrence, of losing his most loved one yet deep down, he knew he wasn’t, he knew the moment you were at the brink of death, he would sacrifice his own to keep you safe..but he was too late, you were dead before he could heal you, before he could save you. Never before had the Yaksha felt such deep hatred, such unfeeling rage, so much was it that when he was done with his vengeance, when he had bathed in blood in the name of love, he felt nothing but a consuming sense of hollowness.

Zhongli grasped your hand with all the softness and grace he could have. He had a rather long talk with you, reminiscing about the fond times you two had, the love you shared, the pain and the happiness you had shared. He knew it would come to this, he knew that this would happen eventually. You were a mortal, a mere human, he was an archon, a god. Once you were gone, once time finally caught up with you, he couldn’t help but to shed a tear. Once again, none who would share his memories, once again, another loved one had been hit with time. Some could say that from that day, the enigmatic consultant of the Wangsheng funeral parlor seemed more distant, more cold, even.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

😼😼😼 I really liked your headcanons for the Sdv+Sdve bachelor's! i think they're all super fun to read. Could you do the bachelor's reacting to a spouse whose like a mad scientist doing crazy shit like reviving a dead body with chemicals alone or growing hybrid crops, or even just laughing manically in their secret farm lab while they work on one of their crazy (and usually improbable but they still make it work) experiments again. HAVE A GOOD DAY THANK YOU :-)

This ask fits the spooky month vibe perfectly, hee hee 😈 Thank you for the ask and your kind words, hope you have a great day too! Enjoy 🫰💕

_________________________________________

You know that meme about "My hot witch wife and me doing whatever she wants"? That's how you could describe Farmer and their spouse Sam. The young guitarist was naturally surprised at first, but Farmer has so many amazing things and pots with unusual plants that it just takes your breath away. He'll even ask to be their assistant. By the way, Farmer can forget about the fact that the lab was "secret" because Sammy will post a ton of photos and selfies with his beloved spouse in front of all the reagents.

It is not new to Sebastian that Farmer was obsessed with science and mysteries, as they were constantly discussing some discoveries with his half-sister and stepfather. It's also not new to have a laboratory under their farmhouse. What Sebby didn't expect was that Farmer's place would be full of things that he doesn't know whether it's science or magic. So cool, and he's eerily curious to hear what Farmer will tell him about the new kinds of crops. Although necromancy makes him uneasy ("Is that... a zombie rats running around on the floor?"), he's generally intrigued.

Alex may not have understood most of what his spouse told him in their lab, but the athlete's gut tells that just about every object and plant in here could be a potential threat. He realizes that Farmer knows how to handle everything, and clearly loves being a scientist in addition to working in the fields, it's just... weird. And yet... Can they really bring the dead back to life? And can they bring his- No, that's wrong. Forget what Alex said. He won't mind Farmer's hobby, just... promise him to be careful.

Shane has had all sorts of strange things happen in his life. Mostly thanks can be said to Joja.co and their "special laboratory to improve the quality of products for life". Shane has only been dragged to such demonstrations once, but it was enough to last him a lifetime. So don't let Farmer be surprised that chicken man's face turned pale, because not only is the flashback, but Farmer's creations look even scarier. "They're useful!" Thanks Farmer, but Shane didn't feel any better.

Baffled by the plants he has never seen before, dumbfounded by the huge number of flasks with a rather dangerous liquid, and a little frightened by Farmer's maniacal laughter, which is the envy of any actor playing a super-villain... But with all this, Elliott tries to support the hobby of his dearest spouse, although the writer and little understands in what Farmer tells him boisterously. Plus, the whole mad scientist vibe is sure to inspire Elliott to write his first Gothic novel about the love between a mad scientist and a lonely vampire (we'll pretend we don't know who that vampire is, m'kay).

As soon as Farmer finished showing Harvey their secret laboratory, describing the experiments in detail and laughing triumphantly, the poor doctor forced a smile out of himself and gave a thumbs-up. Inside Harvey, though, everything was screaming. New kinds of plants raised a lot of doubts about whether it was safe to eat, the amount of dangerous liquids increased the desire to wrap the Farmer from head to toe in clothes protecting him from burns, and in the case of necromancy Harvey would be just speechless, considering it immoral. Really... mixed emotions, to put it kindly.

The whole Farmer's laboratory, their experiments with crops, going beyond the boundaries of science and even magic, intrigues Victor as much as it scares him. Although, to be honest, it frightens him much more. The spaghetti lover really wants to support Farmer in their hobby, but there are a few things that make him very wary. It seems that one of the books written by the adventurers stated that necromancy is forbidden. And also, Victor himself thinks it's not very ethical, soooo.... Should he be worried about Farmer's experiments?

When Lance first met his future spouse, in the depths he was a little hesitant to trust Farmer to find and grow monster crops. But after they showed him a laboratory with a huge number of very strange but quite interesting plants with unusual fruits, the gallant adventurer immediately realized that for Farmer to deal with such crops was not the first time. He would still warn about necromancy, though, for although there were still debates about whether to ban or allow this dark school, Farmer could bring trouble on themselves and others...

Aside from the fact that Farmer's wicked laughter over the table of reagents reminded Magnus of his ex-wife, who was also laughing almost like that in front of her bubbling cauldron, the wizard wasn't particularly bothered by such a quirk of his spouse. The only BUT will be if Rasmodius notices their attempts to revive the dead. Necromancy is forbidden by the Ministry of Magic, at least without official permission and a mentor to supervise at all times. Besides, showing such disrespect for the dead is simply immoral. Magnus doesn't mind Farmer's experiments, but no necromancy, or they'll be in big, big trouble.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hello Cal!! 💕💕💕💕

Maximum for 🧜‍♂️ please!

I am LOVING this fic!

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn! ❤️THANK YOU!!!!

1k for 🧜‍♂️:

---

 Like he needs the support right now. Eddie wants to give it to him. Carefully, he wraps an arm around Buck’s shoulders. Buck tips his head onto Eddie’s collar bone. 

“Thanks,” Buck mumbles. “For all of it.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Eddie says. “We have each other’s backs, right?”

Buck inhales sharply. “We do.”

🌊

The next few times Buck shifts in the water, it hurts. Not as badly. Not as intensely. Like his tail is growing more and more used to the pain. Still, he avoids it more than he would like. More than he should. More than his body needs. But the pain concerns him. Makes him think of the accident. So he avoids it, going to the ocean only when he becomes desperate. 

Instead, he focuses on getting back to work. He attends mandatory physical therapy appointments. The practitioner is also baffled at Buck’s speedy recovery process. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this for the injury and surgery you had,” she says. 

“Guess I’m just lucky,” Buck shrugs it off.

He is. He is lucky. He knows that. Just, sometimes he feels like a freak and not even a freak that gets to properly enjoy the water anymore. 

But it’s not all bad. He gets back to work in late June. A Fire Department legend, apparently. As long as that’s the only thing they think is legendary about him, he’s fine with it. Bobby is watching him like a hawk. Like he’s waiting for him to crumble to pieces. He doesn’t know why Buck is okay. That’s his own near death is why Buck is unharmed right now. A very strange thing to be grateful for. 

Plus, on top of work, he still has Eddie. Eddie, who he spends more time with nowadays than anyone. Eddie, who is without a doubt the best friend he’s ever had. Eddie, who is the only person who knows the weight of the secret on his shoulders. Eddie, who Buck has started to look at differently lately. 

It’s sort of strange, because Eddie is always making Buck feel things he didn’t really think were possible. For example, before he’d met Eddie - and for a good amount of time after he met Eddie - Buck would have confidently called himself straight. Comfortable in the fact that he’d been attracted to all the women he’s been with. Content with that identity. Not looking to explore. 

Except, if that were entirely true, things would be a bit different for Buck, wouldn’t they? He wouldn’t think about things like how Eddie’s eyes are so beautiful. His smile wouldn’t make Buck feel warm. Buck wouldn’t have wished, that day on the beach when Eddie held him, for Eddie to have touched more of him. He wouldn’t want to be around him all the time. He wouldn’t wonder about what kissing him would be like, when he is. 

Maybe Buck should do something about that. But he’s too damn chicken. 

🌻

It starts as a joke. 

Eddie swears. Just a joke. 

Buck is over one weekend day. Christopher is at a classmate’s birthday. Buck is sort of down. He tried shifting again recently and the pain was still there. They decided to take it easy. Movie, beers, chips.

“We should watch Splash. Study your culture,” Eddie had teased him.

“I don’t know what that is,” Buck says. “Is it set in Pennsylvania or something.”

“Oh my god, Buck,” Eddie had sighed. “We’re fixing this.”

Buck shrugs. “If you say so.”

“I do!” Eddie insists. “There’s a mermaid.”

“Oh?” Buck raises an eyebrow. “Is it a cartoon?”

“Just watch, Buck.”

And they do. Buck is delighted by it. The humor. The ‘unrealistic’ mermaid plot. Though, what does he know, really? He’s only met himself. 

There’s a strange moment, midway through the movie, where Tom Hanks’ character is dressed in 80s-style gym shorts. The type that are pretty short cut, reveal a lot of thigh. Buck shifts a little. He sort of looks at Eddie out of the corner of his eye, and then looks back at the screen.

“They’re both kind of hot, huh? Like, both leads?” Buck asks awkwardly. 

“Daryl Hannah and Tom Hanks?” Eddie asks.

Buck nods. 

Wait a minute. What is going on here? Buck is into Tom Hanks? A young Tom Hanks. Okay, yeah. Eddie can see the appeal. He certainly did as a kid watching this. But Buck? Buck isn’t… Is he? He called himself an ally. 

“Can’t say either of them do anything for me personally,” he replies, trying to keep it casual. “But I see the appeal.”

“Right, yeah, well…” Buck stammers. “Right.”

“Good job on the complete sentence, there,” Eddie teases. 

“Shut up,” Buck nudges him. 

They’re sitting a bit closer on the couch than they were when the movie started. 

Then it sort of takes another turn. See, it’s been years since Eddie has seen the movie. Well over a decade. Sophia used to watch it all the time, but Eddie started spending less and less time with his little sisters when life got… Well, complicated. Anyway, the point is, Eddie doesn’t remember it beat for beat. He doesn’t remember the scene where Madison is sprayed down with water leaving a party, by someone determined to out her, and shifts immediately, being photographed and mobbed and eventually taken by government scientists. 

Eddie can’t miss the way Buck tenses. Goes a little white. Honestly? Eddie feels it too. He’s not a merman, obviously. But the thought of being outed like that makes him queasy. And scared. Very scared. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells Buck. “I forgot about this scene. I… I can turn it off.”

“No,” Buck says. “It’s okay. I want to see how it ends.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie mumbles again. 

“Don’t be, Eddie. It’s a movie.”

“But you know… You know I’d never let that happen to you, right? I’d… I’ll always protect your secret. I’d never-”

“You’re not always with me,” Buck says lowly. “And I have more control over it than her.”

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I wouldn't really agree that boys are just arm candy in magical girl shows and only there to look cute. Yeah, sure the girls' friendships are the focus, but the boys are usually very much involved in the plot and most shows do explore their feelings about the odd things that happen due to magical shenanigans even if they aren't in the know (It's why ML baffles me even more with how they screwed up Adren's arc when he's the deuteragonist, when all these boys are supporting cast and get well rounded arcs)

I'm not much of a winx fan, but the specialists were very much not arm candy. Did the girls talk about them being cute? Yes, it's what teenage girls do. Did the narrative suggest they were good looking? Yes, but that's standard for most love interests in any genre. But we still got scenes with them talking amongst themselves about how they themselves feel and they got a fair share of badass fight scenes even if they wield no magic. A large amount of episodes actually included the boys and girls working as a team solving a mystery or fighting a villain. The girls might deal the finishing blow but the boys were still integral to the plot.

I hope this doesn't come across as hate, it definitely wasn't my intention. I'm just a bit too passionate about the magical girl genre.

I do think you have a good point with ML having a problem choosing a genre or blending two genres successfully.

For the CCS fans, I will add though that Cardcaptor Sakura had both Tomoyo and Syaoran serve as sources of motivation for Sakura. And both Sakura and Syaoran collecting cards even if Sakura is the only one who could seal them and yet never made you question whether Syaoran was even necessary for the job the way ml does with Chat.

I wasn't trying to say that boys have no part to play in magical girl team shows or that they're always treated as having no lives beyond the girls, that's why I mentioned that the Winx Club boys - aka, the Specialists - have their own (mostly off screen) lives and occasionally show up help the girls:

the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship

Even then, this is certainly a simplification of the roles that they play in the story, but I kind of had to simplify their roles down to their base components for the original post's discussion as I was talking in broad strokes of how these stories are written.

In terms of those broad strokes, the Specialists are absolutely only there for shipping fodder. That's why each one is assigned to a girl from the start and why their main role in the narrative is supporting their assigned love interest or causing relationship-based drama for their assigned love interest. If it weren't for shipping, then the Specialists would not exist.

While the Specialists do have fleshed out characters and may even effect the plot, the execution of those elements is designed around the girls. A really obvious example of this is the character Timmy, who has character development as the boy's tech guy. Why is he into technology? Because he's the designated love interest for the fairy of Technology and we have to show why they're a good match. Along similar lines, the boys don't really get plots that are removed from the girls because this is the girl's show. Every episode features one or more of the Winx, but the boys are optional and often don't appear.

This is because, narratively speaking, the boys are just love interests and that brings us back to Miraculous' big problem. You can't have a show where Adrien is written like a Specialist while also being part of the Winx Club and where Alya is written like she's part of the Winx Club while technically being more of a Specialist in terms of power set and actual narrative role.

I'm was thinking back to my memories of various Winx Club plots to find one that really highlighted what I mean here and I remembered that one of the big dramas in season one was the reveal that Bloom's love interest - Sky - was in an arranged marriage and had just never told her. As it turns out, that's a great example of what I'm talking about re Adrien!

Is that plot line technically based around Sky and letting his life effect the plot? Sure, but the fallout of that reveal revolves around Bloom, not Sky. The story doesn't really care how Sky's feeling as the conflict progresses. Instead, it focuses on how it affects Bloom and her friends because of course it does! She's the main character. It would be really weird if that plot suddenly focused on her side character love interest and his friends during one of her darkest hours/biggest moments.

Think of that and then consider how the ending of season five is written. Notice any similarities? Sure, this is Adrien's family drama, but because he's just a Specialist, the focus isn't on him. It's on Winx Club member Marinette and Adrien only shows up at the end for a kiss. That is the problem. That is what I'm talking about when I say that Miraculous will randomly write him as if we're watching a magical girl team show where Adrien is just the love interest.

In fact, let's really dig into this example because it's a good one.

You can have a look at the transcript for the finale episode of Miraculous season five here and see for yourself that Adrien doesn't even show up on screen until the final scenes when the big drama is over. The Winx Club wiki also has episode transcripts, so I took a look to see what happened in Winx land during the arranged marriage reveal plot (I love that this is a thing. It's so useful for fact checking myself!) This is the script for the episode after Bloom learns the truth. Sky does not appear even though his lies and family drama are the fuel for this episode's events, which are a major part of the season's arc. Note how perfectly that matches Adrien's writing?

Similarly, Sky's dialogue in the reveal episode is all about Bloom. He's worried about her learning the truth and thinking less of him. To match that, here's Adrien's only real dialogue in the penultimate episode of season five (full transcript):

Adrien:(Covers his ears.) I cannot transform... (Looks at his ring and tries taking it off.) Plagg: What are you doing?! Adrien: I'm not in my right mind. I'm too angry — at myself for falling short of Marinette's love, at my father for sending me here in London, at this stupid app and these rings that use my image... it makes me sick! This nightmare is giving me the horrible feeling that, if I transform, I'll get akumatized and destroy everything with my Cataclysm — Marinette, Ladybug... (Takes off the ring and hands it to Plagg.)

Switching back to Winx. After Bloom learns the truth about Sky, bad things happen because she's depressed. This results in her and the Winx going off on a journey to learn the truth of who Bloom is. After the girls share this big plot moment and Bloom gets her mojo back, the boys show up to be their ride home and to give Bloom her romance moment where Sky wins her back by declaring that he broke off the arranged married because he loves her.

Sky notably doesn't get an arc about choosing between his arranged marriage and his true love. We don't even know that the marriage is broken off until he tells Bloom because that was never really a conflict as far as the narrative was concerned. Of course he's going to pick Bloom! He's her designated side character love interest! He only exists to be with her. We don't need to treat this as a serious thing for him. The arranged marriage plot was never about him anyway. It was about giving Bloom a reason to have a darkest hour moment that moves the plot forward. Similarly, Sky calling off the marriage is nowhere near as important as him telling Bloom that he's called off the marriage to be with her in a grand romantic gesture.

This perfectly mirrors Miraculous' season five ending where Adrien doesn't appear until after Marinette is done fighting her big girl power fight against his father. As far as the writing is concerned, that fight isn't about him. His connection to the villain only really matters in terms of how it affects Marinette's actions during the final battle. Then, when the battle is over, Adrien shows up to give Marinette her big romance moment because, while the plot may be driven by Adrien's family, he is not a Winx club member. He's just a Specialist. Or, in the words of the head writer:

[image text: She's Barbie, he's Ken. You don't like it. I get it. It won't change. Anything else?] (The full, even more damning context of this tweet can be found here.)

What else can I say other than, "I rest my case."

Oh, and also that I didn't take this as an attack. I just thought it was a good opportunity to really dig into the nuances of this and what I was talking about in that original post as I never know how obvious this stuff is if you don't closely study story telling. As this case study hopefully shows, if a show is about a group of girl friends using the power of friendship, then their love interests may have important roles, but the boys are never going to be more important than the girls and most of the boy's screen time will be focused on romance and how their existence effects the girls because it's ultimately the girls' world. Without them, the show wouldn't exist. Without the boys? Well, then we just wouldn't have a romance plot.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)

PART THREE: THE HERO ALWAYS GETS THE GIRL

Also on AO3

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

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

WC: 5.9k words

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

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

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

In the Past….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not yet, at least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(*I love you with all my heart)

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

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

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

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

——————————————

The Present….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————————-

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

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

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

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

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

Only one way to find out.

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, it wasn’t just them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh? We aren’t?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nateezfics]

one thing that’ll always baffle me is the amount of likes vs the amount of reblogs on fics. like it’s staggering. so many likes, but not even nowhere near half the amount of reblogs. and reblogs with actual feedback and comments are fewer still. not to say that i or other fanfic authors don’t appreciate likes, because we do. but reblogs help us out so much more, especially when you reblog and leave feedback or maybe just leave a few supporting words in the tags. i know we sound like a broken record at this point.

but please consider reblogging and commenting on your favorite fanfic authors’ fics.

[makedonsgriva]

Devil Venerable Also Wants To Know : A Review

So I generally don't do reviews. But going through the tumblr tag and then on AO3 and seeing the abysmal amount of posts and fanfics, I am writing this review in hopes of someone reading this and then getting convinced by my agenda.

Because Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know deserves to be read by yall.

IT. IS. SO. GOOD.

To summarize, we start with the leader of the demonic Xuanyuan Sect, Wenren E, getting a copy of a trashy romance novel, Abusive Romance.

What baffles him is that he, a logical, rational person who has never felt love in his life, is the second lead and falls in love with the Mary Sue female lead and gives up everything for her and dies in the end for her too.

What makes him even more confused that after he dies in the novel, his loyal subordinate Yin Hanjiang is driven to madness and is hell bent on revenge, pursuing the female lead to kill her.

Wenren E decides that this cannot be allowed. He is not afraid of death, (although he does mind that it was for a stupid reason and not on his own terms) but he very much minds the fact that his subordinate went insane after it. So he sets out to re write destiny.

Now let's talk about the highlights of this book

The Characters

DVAWTK is full of interesting, fun and exciting characters who will remain etched in your memory. Whether it is the sensuous, ruthless and ambitious Shu Yanyan or the wise, perceptive and kind Zhongli Qian, there is a multitude of characters to pick from to love and adore and all of them have deeper and hidden depths that give them layers of complexities.

Not to mention, DVAWTK has several strong and amazing female characters. I have mostly read MXTX books and this is where she lacks the most: hardly any strong female characters. She writes shockingly amazing characters but most of them are male and I mostly don't mind but I do wish I got some great girls to cherish in there too.

Cyan Wings does not disappoint in that aspect. All their female characters are wonderfully well fleshed out. Especially Baili Qingmiao. Seeing her go from the biggest girlfailure to an absolute girlboss over 70 something chapters is satisfying in a sense the way, and I quote the book here, "one feels about their first daughter finally grow up" Chef's kiss truly.

The Plot

The plot is engaging but nothing too crazy, if I am being honest. Apart from a couple of reveals and plot twists that were shocking, it mostly stuck to a more or less predictible story line. That does not mean it was not good; it was. Most of the arcs keep you engaged enough to keep reading without being able to put the story down and tie into each other seamlessly. As such, there are no plot holes and stupid or unnecessary story lines. It works very well to support the characters and their personal growth and arcs.

The Humour

Top notch. So well done. Got me laughing out loud multiple times and earned me a lot of weird looks from my roommate but all worth it. SVSSS was the funniest work I read but DVAWTK gives it a run for its money in terms of the comedy it has and also it's general unhinged-ness, mostly thanks to it's characters. Everyone at the Demonic Xuanyuan Sect is a goofball although they are not trying to be. The skeleton lady Qiu Congxue has no brains. Literally. A ghost ate it so you can guess just how well she is faring in the books.

(she still is immensely powerful tho)

The Romance

So far the biggest freaks I had found while reading Danmei are Mo Ran and Luo Binghe.

Yin Hanjiang is a hundred times worse.

He is an absolute psycho, a complete nutter, powerful beyond comprehension and hopelessly devoted to Wenren E. And Wenren E, once realising his own feelings, thinks it is all so hot!! (makes you really wonder just who is more insane among the two)

My subordinate wants to destroy the entire cultivation world after my death? He has my full support that's so cute of him <3

Freak4freak with some very beautiful and tender moments and an absolute badass power couple who kick ass together in battles. Truly amazing. I love love love wenrenjiang.

The World building

Wonderfully well done and also easy to follow! I especially liked how cultivation was viewed from a different light in this novel and how the book explores the ways it is actually harmful to mortals. I actually learnt a lot about various cultivation stages from this novel and came to understand some common aspects of xianxia novels. DVAWTK uses many technical terms in terms of cultivation and it is fun to read and learn about it

Found Family

Need I say more? Like what's better than a bunch of idiots coming together and growing on their journey thanks to each other? *gently holds Su Huai, Baili Qingmiao, Qiu Congxue and Zhongli Qian in my palms* they are so important to me

Final Thoughts

DVAWTK is a great read with a very satisfying ending. It keeps you hooked till the very end and I am honestly surprised it is so underrated. I am very glad it is getting an official translation soon so hopefully, it will amass more readers although the unofficial translation I read is also very good. It deserves way more hype and fans then it has because it's so silly, so good and so well done. Ugh I hope it also gets some kind of adaptation some day to make it more popular because it deserves it all.

Please read this novel. That's what I want to say. You will not be disappointed.

[dark-dragon-8]

Me writing a fic planner for my Supernatural fic series/AU and it slowly turning into a "try and keep as many of the characters you like and/or need for the plot to get where you want it to without it being too OOC and/or nonsensical all while still keeping your current ongoing plot relevant and have it make sense" challenge

Because ISTG people are dying 𝘸𝘢𝘺 too often in this show. I had to get creative with Sam's reactions and power limitations just to keep Crowley alive during that one scene Dean tried to kill him when they both first met him.

I had to give Sam a fucking aftershock from Dick Roman exploding so that he won't kill Crowley right then and there.

I know I'll need to find a way to keep Rowena and Charlie alive at some point in the future because they'll be killed off later on in the show and I can't have that.

I'll have to somehow keep Death alive (haha) too because I love him too much to let him go.

The only characters I plan on keeping dead so far are Bobby, Meg, John and everyone else who died in earlier seasons (besides maybe Jessica, but that's just because she's not as close to Sam in this AU)

Ellen and Jo will still be alive, though, since I'm not leaving the boys without a support system. Downside is that the two of them will be experiencing the death of their husband/father (respectively) all over again.

I'm keeping Balthazar alive too because I 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 Castiel to still have some sort of loyal subordinate/connection to Heaven.

At least Dean doesn't kill anyone (important), not yet at least (I just finished season 7) hopefully it stays that way because that man is pretty much the only one I don't have to keep on monitoring 24/7. He's honestly the most chill person in my fic when it comes to killing off plot devices, which is hilarious because I plan on making him a sadistic half demon that's kind of like the Antichrist once he gets the Mark of Cain (which was surprisingly the easiest plot twist I had to write, thanks to how I saw his demon self has been written, I swear he's the only one not killing everyone else around him just because).

I'm currently holding on by a thread of "Sam believing he's impure and therefore doesn't use his powers often" logic while also applying a good amount of "Sam uses his power in every single scenario in which he thinks Dean might be in danger" logic. It's a very stressful road and I swear to Chuck, if I didn't have an ending in mind, everyone would've been dead except for the (good) humans, and Sam would have been the culprit, maybe Castiel too, and Dean would've been surprisingly innocent (I know, it baffles me too).

I just realized, as I was writing this that maybe I just need Crowley to chill, but I can't write that because that would be character assassination of the highest degree (Crowley is a sassy drama queen and I'd rather die than take that away from him)