#this is far too much fun to write
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The Fallen pt. 2
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader
A/N: Some light spice, no full on smut yet. This is in fact a Lucifer (TV) crossover. The beginning italics is a flashback.
Cooper Howard had perfected his aim in the many, many years of life spent in the hellish landscape that now inhabited Earth, so when he missed, it was purposeful.
“It ain’t good form, sneakin’ up on a restin’ man.”
His words were crisp, articulated, and honestly the intruder was just lucky he happened to be in a decent mood. It would’ve been easier to kill them.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”
The replying voice was a stark contrast to the harshness of the life he lived. It didn’t belong, sounded far too gentle, and it aroused enough curiosity for him to tip his hat back.
Not a damn thing in the whole of the Wasteland could’ve prepared him for the sight he was met with.
Pretty, that was his first thought.
Too pretty.
Ungodly so, actually. Your eyes seemed to shine so bright in contrast to the dingy lantern that barely provided enough light to see his own hands. The slope of your nose, the cut of your cheeks, the shape of your lips- too pretty.
Not to mention the tight jumpsuit you wore, the zipper tugged down low enough on your chest to show off a healthy amount of cleavage. His fingers twitched as his eyes traced a path down your body- slow, appreciative. It’d been a damn long time since something as simple as a look could get him this worked up.
You had one visible weapon, a knife tucked into the belt of your jumpsuit, pressed into your very alluring thigh. He wondered briefly what it would feel like under his hand, wrapped tight around his waist.
“I suggest you get on your way ‘fore the next one ends up in your skull.”
It was a threat, one he emphasized with the click of his gun’s hammer.
You seemed unbothered, almost bored.
Fuck, didn’t that just annoy the piss out of him? You stumbled into his space- that he commandeered with his hard earned bullets, thank you very much- looking like fucking Aphrodite, with an expression that could, at best, be considered unconcerned.
Last he checked he was still pretty goddamn terrifying.
“Understood,” you held your hands up, and damn it all if he could ignore the pain in your gaze.
He hesitated.
It was a fraction of a fraction of a second, where he almost slipped back into Cooper Howard: the man who cared, imperceptible to most, but the small upturn of your lips told him you saw it.
He glared, holding his gun higher. You didn’t say another word, just held your hands up and walked away, but not before you met his gaze one more time.
He wished he knew what you were thinking when you muttered a soft, “thanks,” before you disappeared from the rickety building. The image haunted him for weeks, of you with your sad eyes, your face untouched by the ugliness of the world, breathing out your gratitude.
He swore he’d shoot you on sight if he ever saw you again, if only because that one encounter lingered in his mind for far too long after.
“Think they’re fuckin’?”
You startled, whipping your head up to face Cooper so quickly he was sure that it hurt. The heat that flushed your cheeks was unexpected.
“Sorry, just didn’t think you’d be so blunt.” You cleared your throat, running a hand through your hair. “Maybe, they certainly seemed interested enough in one another to… engage.”
Coop barked a laugh, low and deep.
“Engage, huh?” You narrowed your eyes at him, resting your arms on your knees. “That’s a real innocent term for a bonafide tease like yourself.”
“Tease?” You echoed, almost offended.
The red from your cheeks burned a path down your neck, to the top of your breasts, where it disappeared beneath the fabric of your jumpsuit- a path Cooper was all too eager to trace with his eyes.
He hummed an affirmative, spreading his legs out in front of him. His back was leaned against the pole of an old billboard, giving him a nice resting spot from the traveling you’d been doing.
A few days ago, your little trio ran into the same knight Cooper had gotten into a shootout with back in Filly. He’d wanted to shoot the man and be done with it, but Lucy had argued that he could help.
After much deliberation, and more than a few pleads of your own, Cooper agreed to let him live. For now.
“A tumble in the ol’ hay gettin’ you nice and shy, huh?”
You groaned, forcing your eyes down to the sand beneath your legs. He waited eagerly for your explanation.
“My dad was, uh, strict,” you supplied lamely, embarrassment burning a pyre in your stomach.
You would surely never hear the end of this.
“Darlin’, are you suggesting you’re a-“
“No,” you were quick to respond, beating back against the shame that you felt.
You’d never understand how Lucifer could be so free in his decisions, not bothering to feel any guilt over the many decidedly “un-angel-like” behaviors he had. His time on Earth with you was short, beckoned back to his prison before you could even spend a decade together, but he’d not been idle in that time.
“I’ve… engaged before.”
Cooper’s lips drew into a slow smirk, the brim of his hat hiding the way his eyes were drinking in your expression. He’d memorized the way you look time and time again- when you were happy, or sad, angry, annoyed.
Embarrassed, however, was a new one.
“And now?”
The indignation that flared in your gaze rivaled the red of your cheeks, a thrill running down Coop’s spine as you pulled yourself to your feet and stalked towards him.
“And now,” you whispered, voice barely audible above the crunch of sand beneath your boot.
As you approached, he raised his head, drawn to your stare. The breath he released was strained with anticipation.
“I think you know what I want, Coop.”
It was graceful, the way you dropped yourself to your knees and straddled him. His cock twitched at the look you fixed him with, filled with far more desire than he could ever hope to understand. A fire was burning in the air between you, begging him to close the distance and feel you.
His fingers ghosted up the side of your thighs, hovering just above your ass. He’d hoped for this moment- dreamed of it, even- but never did he expect the universe would be kind enough to deliver you to him, ready and willing.
“And what is that, darlin’?” His tone dropped low, barely a murmur from his lips in fear of ruining the moment. “Don’t be afraid to use your words.”
Your mouth was so close to his, warm breath fanning over his face. He was torn between wanting to pull you into him, and letting you take your sweet time with him. The vaultie and the knight would probably be gone for a bit longer, in search of medicine to help with his shot arm.
“Mmm,” that sweet, lilting voice was so close he could feel it, inching closer to his body.
It was overwhelming, the sensation of your thighs over his, your front grinding so gently down the hardening curve of his cock. It was heaven and hell at the same time, too much and not nearly enough. A groan might’ve tore itself from his throat, it was hard to tell over the sound of his blood rushing south, heart pumping double time to match the throbbing of his cock.
Every bit of his restraint was focused on letting you initiate, his hands flexing in the air, waiting for positive indication that he could have his wicked way with you. He could practically taste the sweet nectar between your legs, drooling at the prospect. If you tasted half as good as you looked, he’d never wish for apple pie again.
You, his tormenting angel, with wide eyes and full lips that he couldn’t seem to stay away from. You, who he once believed was a figment of his own imagination, if only because he couldn’t fathom such a delicacy still existing in this world.
“The hat.”
Your words were released on a breathy sigh, hands tracing up the textured skin of his neck, before you quickly grabbed hold of his beloved hat, delicately placing it on your own head.
The triumph in your expression didn’t last, as Cooper had no intention of this being just another game. Faster than you thought possible, and with far more force than you were used to, Coop had hooked his arms around the back of your thighs, caging you against him so you couldn’t back away as you had planned.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playin’.”
You pressed further into him, tipping his hat back with a smirk. His hips pushed up, aching for contact that you purposefully held from him.
“If I’m taking a ride, might as well play the part.”
His retort was hot on his tongue, only to be immediately swallowed by your mouth. Your lips crashed into his, rough in their ministrations. Years of dreaming about the taste of you didn’t do it any justice.
Your tongue explored his mouth with a ravenous hunger, hips moving in time with each stroke of your lips.
Fuck.
Fuck.
He was sure that all there was left to taste on the Earth was bitter and bland. You, however, were sweeter than he could’ve ever imagined. You tasted of vanilla, somehow, and the first crisp wind after a hot summer, and like the Earth before the war, the good things that had been destroyed and gone forever.
Holy hell, you tasted like life.
Like a deep laugh that came straight from the soul- he moaned when you tightened your grip on the fabric of his shirt, chasing every inch he’d give you- and the man Cooper Howard used to be.
His hands were eager in their exploration, mapping out a path from your thighs, to your ass, up the curve of your spine.
Fucking hell.
Every inch of you was divine, perfect in a way Cooper couldn’t even begin to understand. He wanted more. He needed more. Needed it more than he needed those damn drugs, more than he needed anything, really.
He went straight from the junction of your neck the second you broke from the kiss, mouth watering at the very thought of pressing his teeth to your sweet, soft skin.
“Cooper,” it was a whimper, a plea, and a moan all in one, and damn did his ears ring at the sound.
It went straight to his cock, making him press his hips up into yours, desperately trying to bury his length in you despite the many layers of clothing.
Your head fell back, exposing your neck even more to him, and causing his hat to tumble somewhere by his legs. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered outside of the feel of you.
His hands slid higher, on a path to your shoulders, only to stop at the sudden intake of air from you. It sounded pained, and he was dazed when you pulled away from him with a speed he’d not seen before.
One second you were hot, willing, and moaning his name, and the next you were standing over him, your eyes haunted.
“Darlin’, what-“
He saw it then, the sticky, warm red on his hands, unmistakably blood. A baser instinct wanted to lick his gloves clean of it, taste an even deeper part of you, but the human in him won out, if only for a moment.
“You didn’t think to let anyone know you’re hurtin’.”
The anger in his tone is only trumped by the worry in his eyes. Somehow, you’d wriggled your way into his nearly fucking nonexistent heart, and it seemed that you had the self-preservation of a damn baby sea turtle.
“It’s an old wound.”
The way you held your arms to your chest, almost like you were hugging yourself, told Cooper enough. It was a wound that cut deep, not because it hurt, but because of how it got there in the first place.
“Lemme see,” he said sternly, picking up his hat off the ground with a scowl.
“Today, sweetheart,” he muttered when you made no move to do so.
There was a vulnerability in your gaze, a cut so deep he knew you’d never fully heal from it. He wished he didn’t want to know, wished he didn’t care to learn what made those bright eyes dim.
You unzipped the front of your jumpsuit slowly, tantalizingly, almost like the teasing was a part of your armor- and maybe it was. Maybe it was how you convinced yourself you didn’t care as much, or how you rebelled against the father you obviously still struggled with.
You turned your back to him, baring the marred flesh without another look in his direction. Obviously, Cooper had seen many, many scars in his time. Hell, he was scarred from head to toe, flesh marked with the passage of time and the heat of radiation.
This was a little different.
You tensed as he reached a hand out. Two large gashes ran down the length of your shoulder blades, the flesh pink and raw. Scratches, deep and angry, cut between them, some bleeding and others healed. Curiously, the tips of his gloved fingers pressed to the two big scars.
In a flash you were turned around, your hands wrapped around his wrist.
“Don’t.”
A command. A plea. A whisper.
“Who did it?”
His words were hard, a rage so deep and endless rose in his chest, feeling more feral than he had his whole life. That wasn’t the scar of someone who survived an attempt on their life.
That was the scar of someone who intended to cause pain.
“Was it your daddy?”
From the very small amount of information you’d given him, he tried to piece together exactly what happened between the two of you. He didn’t know the specifics, but he did know that he’d hurt you in some unforgivable way.
Your silence was an answer in itself.
Leather creaked as he balled his hands into fists, grinding his teeth together. Cooper Howard was a monster, self-made and self-proclaimed, but he didn’t let anyone harm what was his.
And make no mistake, you were his. That kiss did just about everything to solidify it in his mind.
“If he weren’t dead already I’d hunt him down and string him up.”
It was a promise, and he wished he could bring that bastard back from the grave to punish him for putting those marks on your back and that look in your eye.
“Coop,” you approached him cautiously, returning your jumpsuit to its proper position. “He’s not dead.”
That certainly was a surprise.
And an opportunity.
“It’s more complicated than that,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. The clench on your jaw was noticeable.
“Let’s find the fucker, then.”
A long, tired sigh parted your lips. There were clearly parts of the story he was missing, and it seemed those parts painted a picture he didn’t understand.
“Let’s focus on Lucy and her dad.”
He let the silence simmer, wondering just how much he should tell you of his past. A bit of irritation flared at the idea of revealing anything. It was better to let the past die, like you said.
He grunted his agreement, not bothering to explain it to you. Maybe you’d try to stop him, or maybe you’d help him. It didn’t matter either way. You were already far closer to him than he wanted, he couldn’t risk any more of a bond forming.
“They’ll be back.”
His words were noncommittal. It was likely the vault dweller and her puppy-dog of a knight were probably alive, but he couldn’t really care less, especially when the girl's own naivety got them into this mess.
“Her heart was in the right place.”
You could see it on his face, read the expression etched in his battered skin like nobody else could.
“The right place for dyin’, maybe.” He clicked his tongue. “But I ain’t got that sorta wish right now.”
“They didn’t have to shoot,” you muttered, not nearly as worked up as you’d been earlier.
Anger isn’t an expression you wear often, so he was a little surprised when you’d been so upset with the fiends. Lucy had the bright idea of making it around them without violence, a plan that was doomed from the start.
Cooper voiced his opinion, and so did Maximus, but your encouraging little smile to Lucy made him follow with a scowl. The second they’d drawn their weapons, Coop had already shoved you behind him and dropped one of them. The knight wasn’t nearly as quick with the draw, and got a tooth bullet lodged in his arm for the effort.
He and Lucy had departed about a day ago, claiming they’d be back soon with a fully patched up knight. If it were just him, he would’ve tied them both up and dragged their asses to the head.
Better yet, just killed them both.
But you wouldn’t let him.
You’d always erred on the side of good, a little too soft for the world around you. He’d seen you mean, seen you stand your ground, but you helped far more than you’d hurt. The vault dweller seemed to only be intensifying it, making you believe in a pipe dream that was sure to get you a one way ticket to eternity.
“I’m going to check-“
“(Y/N)!”
Lucy’s voice cracked through the Wasteland like shattering glass. Whereas his annoyance at the sudden arrival of his unwanted companions reflected on his face, you managed a small smile.
“I was beginning to think you’d left us.”
It was a joke. Whatever bond had formed between you and Lucy had clearly earned you some amount of loyalty, and even if she would’ve ditched Cooper any chance she got, she definitely wouldn’t have left you. And if she refused to, it was no surprise Maximus also did.
“I take it you’re feeling better?” Your gaze fell where the bullet had struck, and there was a curious look in your eyes. You’d mentioned before that you used to be good with fixing people up, so he had a feeling you were reminiscing on another tidbit of life he wasn’t privy to.
“Ain’t no reason to gawk here like a bunch of sittin’ ducks,” Coop stalked passed the three of you, not interested in the camaraderie.
“Right,” Lucy cleared her throat, “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”
“Just ‘cause you took lover boy here for a little ride on company property ain’t mean the rest of the world changed.”
Your sudden intake of breath definitely didn’t go unnoticed. It seemed that despite the previous interruption, you were enjoying rubbing yourself up on Coop as much as he was.
“Sex,” Lucy clarified to Maximus at the man’s confused expression.
“Watch out,” Cooper warned the other man with a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Them Vauties are just breeding factories, might end up with a little unexpected squire.”
“Cooper,” you chided, catching up to walk beside him.
Sometimes, being bitter about children in general helped him cope with the loss of his own.
“It is our privilege to one day repopulate the Earth,” Lucy confirmed, shrugging. “Women just have the responsibility of choosing the right partner.”
“I’m not sure-“ Maximus tried to speak, only to be interrupted by Cooper.
“Unsurprising.”
“(Y/N)?”
It was a low blow, Lucy asking for your opinion, knowing that even if he didn’t say it in so many words, it was obvious the ghoul valued it far more than any others. You raised a brow, shrugging.
“I haven’t really thought of it.”
“Of having kids?” Lucy pushed.
This was quickly entering uncomfortable territory, and Lucy didn’t really know where the boundary was.
“Of any sort of future, honestly.”
She took your answer in stride, though. Allowing the topic to drop off into silence. It didn’t stay that way for very long, idle chatter amongst you, Maximus, and Lucy. Cooper would very rarely comment, but he preferred to stay focused on his surroundings.
Day bled to night, which bled to day again. Time was beginning to slip past as you neared the location of the head, frustration growing in Cooper. Any opportunity he had to speak with you in private was interrupted, the traveling party growing too large for his liking.
Perhaps, after this whole ordeal, it’ll be just you and him.
Perhaps he liked the sound of that a little too much.
#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard insert#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#cooper howard x you#the ghoul insert#fallout x reader#fallout reader insert#this is far too much fun to write
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PLEASE write some stevepop where soda sees steve maybe defending or secretly being kind to ponyboy!
i love steve and ponyboys friendship
AGHH the scream I screamt when I got this request ABSOLUTELY! Adore these boys I am HAPPY to provide! fic under the cut!
"Ponyboy get your ass out here or I'm leavin' you!" Steve slams on the horn 'n Darry appears in the kitchen window to shake his head firmly. Ah, it was seven thirty in the mornin'. Steve had forgotten. Pony ducks past the open screen door to flip him off 'n Steve has to fight the urge to throw the door open 'n drag the kid out by his hair.
"I'm gonna kill that kid. I swear to God." Steve hmphs, kicks a foot on the dash.
Soda leans through the rolled down window 'n chuckles to himself. "Glory, Steve, ain't there bigger things in the world to be mad at? The injustices 'n all are a tad more serious then a bitchy kid brother, dig?" Soda snorts 'n Steve rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, well, the injustices aren't about to make me fuckin' late!" Steve hollers 'n Pony makes an indignant noise from somewhere in the house. Soda cracks up. "You comin' to school today?"
Soda tilts his head to the side, opens his mouth but before he can say anythin' Darry cuts in from the porch, "He better be takin' his lil' ass or I'm gonna bust it." Soda hoots a laugh 'n wiggles his hips from where he's bent down to talk to Steve from outside the car.
"Well, I think the decision's been made for the safety of both me 'n my ass." Darry rolls his eyes, grabs Soda by the back of the shirt 'n hoists him up, plantin' a kiss to the top of his ruthlessly messy waves. He releases him 'n turns to climb into his truck.
He's halfway in when he stops 'n turns. "Pony come out yet?"
"Fuckin' no-" The screen door slams 'n Pony leaps off the stairs, hair ungreased 'n curlin' around his eyes, backpack slung over one shoulder 'n unzipped, a piece of burnt toast bit between his teeth.
He skids to a stop to let Darry drop a kiss to his temple 'n then whack him one up the back of his head. He whines wordlessly, mostly 'cause if he tried to speak he'd lose his breakfast, 'n rips open the back door to Steve's beater, crawlin' into the back seat.
"If you get crumbs in my car I'm gonna kick your ass." Steve twists around 'n Pony takes his toast from his mouth just to stick his tongue out.
Soda takes one good leap 'n slides across the roof of the beater to get to the passenger side, slammin' the door shut 'n kickin' his feet up on the dash. He idly flips the radio station until Jimmy Gilmer and The Fireballs Sugar Shack starts playin' 'n he grins 'n cranks the volume.
Pony groans 'n leans over the seat to change it 'n Steve puts an elbow up 'n shoves him back into his seat. "Shotgun picks the music 'n last time I checked you weren't even in the front, brat."
Pony narrows his eyes, scowls, 'n breaks off the crumbliest end of the bread, grindin' it into Steve's carpet where he can't see. "You don't even like this song!"
Soda twists around, throws a hand out the window, grins with his whole mouth. "Nuh uh, Pone. This is Stevie's favorite song. Know why?" Pony stops scowlin' just long enough to look confused.
"Why?"
"'Cause it's mine 'n Steve loves to please- OW!" Steve howls 'n jabs Soda in the ribs. Soda jumps, whoops 'n scrambles to the side to avoid Steve's fingers. Pony groans theatrically 'n drops his head to the window.
A horn blares 'n all three of them look up 'n realize their still blockin' Darry in the driveway. Darry leans out the window with an exasperated sigh, "Steven Thomas, I thought you were so worried about bein' late!"
...
Steve rolls into the parkin' lot goin' so fast he nearly spins out, throwin' the car into the first empty spot he finds. The clock on the dash reads seven fifty- already twenty minutes late.
"Pony move your ass." Steve snatches the keys from the ignition, spinnin' to grab his bag from the back. Pony flips him off again but wiggles out, draggin' his stuff across the seat. Soda jumps out, not even a pencil on his person.
Once they're out of the car, however, none of them hustle across the lot. It was the principle. You couldn't look too eager headed into a school buildin'. They had a rep to protect.
"C'mon." Soda leans around the corner when they get to the top of the steps, watchin' for the lady at the front to turn her back. "Pony go." Pony skids through the door, squats down low under the desk 'n tries to slip by.
So, of course, the woman takes that exact moment to look up.
"Excuse me, young man, you're late. Do you have a note or a parent with you?" Pony freezes like a deer in the headlights 'n both Soda 'n Steve groan.
"Uh-"
"Sorry, Mrs. Baker." Steve doesn't stop to think, just hoists his bag up on his shoulder 'n strolls over to grab Pony by the shoulder. "I gave him a ride today. Him 'n Soda. Sodapop Curtis, that is." He turns around to jerk his head at Soda. Pony looks back at him, frown lines of confusion knittin' between his brow.
"Ok." The woman folds long fingers together 'n looks at him expectantly. "Do you have a note?'
"Naw, I'm just sayin' it ain't their faults. I was-" He grits his teeth together, digs his fingers into Pony's shoulder, "runnin' a little late today. My fault. Traffic was a real bit- uh mess." He offers his best charmin' smile 'n wishes he had Soda's stupid big eyes 'n innocent long lashes that could let him blink his way outta anythin'. Maybe he shoulda thrown Soda under the bus. She raises one thin eyebrow but sighs.
"Well, alright then. I'll write them passes. You, however, will have to get a mark on your record." Steve does his best to look apologetic, waits 'til she turns, 'n flips her off. Soda snorts 'n tries to, poorly, hide it behind a cough. The woman glances over her shoulder 'n Soda lets his dimple show.
He definitely should have let him take the fall.
She tears two slips off a pad 'n hands them across to Pony 'n Soda. Soda shoots him a little apologetic grin 'n Pony begrudgingly mutters his thanks. Steve flicks him in the forehead 'n before Pony can open his mouth 'n say somethin' smart, Soda grabs him 'n pulls him along.
"Name?" Steve frowns, watches as Soda 'n Pony horse around, splittin' at the end of the hall to go to their respective classes. Steve has a sudden pit in his stomach.
"Huh?"
"Your name, hon?"
"Sorry, uh, Randle. Steve." She makes quick work of the papers, handin' Steve over his own pass.
"Alright, Mr.Randle," Steve cringes internally but doesn't let it show, "get to class, now. 'N don't let me see you again, today."
...
Steve's supposed to be skippin' third period with Soda but the knucklehead hadn't shown where they had agreed. Steve had hung around the bleachers for as long as he dared before sighin', concedin' he wasn't gonna show.
He pushes off the rail he'd been leanin' on, debatin' his options. He could head straight out to the beater 'n call the day a wash, come back for Soda 'n Pony when school let out. But Pony, the little shit, was just as likely to tattle as he was to keep it to himself. Plus he was supposed to have fourth with Soda, assumin' he showed.
He hesitates a moment more, hedges his bets, 'n figures he might as well just head to class 'n beg off bein' late. His English teacher was a real doll, she might even turn a blind eye.
He slips the back door open 'n ducks his head through, lettin' his eyes adjust. The hall's deserted, though he can hear some kinda ruckus bein' kicked up somewhere nearby. Some real brawl by the sounds of it.
He creeps the rest of the way in, easin' the door shut. Steve turns the opposite way as the noise, figurin' they were bound to get busted 'n if he was anywhere nearby so would he. He's just creakin' the door to the stairs open, idly listenin' when he catches somethin' that makes his pulse rocket up.
"How do you like that, huh, Curtis?" Steve doesn't even bother to catch the slam the door makes as it shuts. He's movin' before he can think, down in the direction of the voice. Someone groans 'n Steve picks up the pace.
The voices sound too young to be Steve 'n Soda's age. Which really only left-
Steve rounds the corner fast, slidin' a little on the tile 'n the scene he comes up on has him clenchin' his fists so hard half moons carve into his palms. Oh, Jesus.
Here's the thing. Pony ain't half bad in a scrap. Somethin' about growin' up with two brothers 'n a house full of boys made you either sink or swim when it came to gettin' pounded. 'N maybe the boys currently beatin' the ever-lovin' hell outta the kid knew that. Considerin' it was five on one 'n Pony was still on his feet.
Steve doesn't hesitate. One of 'em has Pony's arms pinned behind his back, Pony writhin' 'n strugglin' for all he's worth, 'n another is sluggin' the hell out of him. Landin' sloppy, wide punches along the kid's ribs.
Pony groans at each one but nothin' more. God, maybe the kid was tougher than Steve gave him credit for. When he wasn't bein' a baby.
"Hey, asshole." Steve catches the wrist of the kid sluggin' Pony 'n for a second both of them just blink at Steve in surprise. "Leave my fuckin' kid brother alone, yeah?" Then Steve cracks his fist across the kid's face 'n he goes down, hard.
Pony wriggles out, immediately turns to swing on the boy behind him. Steve catches his shoulder, gives him a hard shove. "Beat it."
Pony freezes, chest heavin', blood tricklin' down his temple that makes Steve want to put whoever did that's head through a goddamn wall. "No!"
One of the others steps up, lands a punch under Steve's elbow 'n Steve jams his palm into the kid's nose. "I'm not havin' a fuckin' conversation go." Pony scowls 'n a kid goes to sock him one. Steve grabs him by the shirt front, easily sends him careenin' into the wall.
"Fine." Pony hesitates a moment more 'n Steve gives him another push. He whips around 'n vanishes down the hall 'n around the corner.
Steve's losin' track of who's who 'n where's what, throwin' punches 'n easily manhandlin' the younger boys steadily backward. "Look at the baby run!" Steve's vision goes red 'n he grabs the boy by the hair 'n slams his head into the goddamn lockers. Tears instantly spring to his eyes 'n Steve yanks him close.
"What are you gonna do? Cry?" He throws him down 'n the kid crawls back 'n away from him, runnin' a hand over his face.
Before he can go for him again, someone's got a hand around his wrist, jerkin' him backward. Fully on instinct, he swings around to slug them one before he realizes its a teacher.
He shakes his head to clear it, bares his teeth at the group of kids now clustered together. The fight's over now 'n it's fuckin' clear who won. But Steve can't help but dig his heels in 'n lean toward them again.
"If I ever hear about you goddamn punks layin' another finger on Ponyboy, you're not gonna be able to walk your pantywaist asses home to your mama's. Got it?"
The last thing he sees before he's dragged off to, presumably, the office, is the blood drain from their faces 'n the flash of a familiar form duckin' through the crowd.
...
Steve rubs a hand idly over his achin' knuckles 'n sighs. He was acutely familiar with the view from the hall outside the office. He'd spent enough hours there they should probably put his name on a seat permanently.
He can hear the Principal as he calls Darry, hell it's quiet enough he can hear Darry's irritation from behind the shut door. Steve sighs again, picks at his cuticles. There was a good chance Darry wouldn't be mad about this, considerin' the circumstances, but he'd be spittin' nails about it until he could get him the full story. 'N he wasn't particularly lookin' forward to it.
"Fancy meetin' you here, Randle." Steve jars 'n whips his head up, but it's just Soda. He plops down in the chair beside him, sprawlin' his legs out in front of him.
"Yeah, real rare sight." Steve scoffs, dryly.
"Heard you got into some fight, huh?" And here's the thing. Maybe, maybe, Steve gave a shit about the goddamn brat that was Ponyboy Michael Curtis. But he had no interest in admittin' that. Hell, he wouldn't even be tellin' Darry if he thought he could get around bein' whooped without it. So he's not real interested in tellin' Soda. No matter how stupid it probably sounds.
"Yeah. Somethin' like that." Soda rolls his eyes, produces a folded paper frog from somewhere 'n flicks it at the wall.
"Man, aren't you just Michelangelo this afternoon." Steve shoots him a confused look from the side of his eye 'n Soda huffs. "Full of words."
"You mean like, Alan Ginsberg or somethin'."
"I'll call ya Romeo if it means you spill what happened." Soda blinks his stupid big eyes at him 'n Steve feels his ears go red.
"Nothin' happened. Just a lil' scrap. Some assholes said the wrong thing 'n so I beat their asses. End of story. Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart." Steve ribs him back 'n Soda just giggles, the bastard.
"Yeah, didn't take you for a child beater, though." Soda cackles to himself 'n Steve shoves him hard in the shoulder. "I heard they were Pony's age." Somethin' in Soda's sharp eyes gives Steve the impression he knows more than he's lettin' on.
"Yeah, what about it? Do I need an age limit on lettin' someone be a dick?"
"Nah, I'm just sayin'. You know. Kids can be cruel. To each other." Steve narrows his eyes 'n Soda just grins. "All I'm sayin' is I saw Pony. 'N I was wonderin' if you had." Steve opens his mouth to answer 'n the door bangs open, the principal takin' a long stride out into the hall.
"Steven Randle?" He catches one look at Soda 'n his shoulders drop a little lower. Soda just beams at him. "Sodapop Curtis, what are you in my hall for?"
"Well, no reason. But now that we're all here I figure you'll wanna send me to the office for skippin'. Say, think you can get ol' Dar back on the phone or d'ya think twice in one day is excessive?"
...
Darry couldn't get off for the remainder of the day so the principal elected to let him stay in the office for the final period. Fourty-five minutes had never felt so long.
Steve was nearly tearin' his hair out by the final bell. He jumps up immediately, swingin' his bag over his shoulder 'n jettin' out to the parkin' lot. Pony's already there, leanin' against the car, dejectedly.
"Hey, Pone. You ok?" Steve goes to push his bangs back from the spot on his temple that had been bleedin' 'n Pony bats his hand angrily away. "Jesus, kid, what's the problem?"
"I don't wanna fuckin' talk about it." Steve feels a hot rush of anger slips through his veins 'n he clenches his fists.
"Fine. Whatever, kid. Get in the fuckin' car." He unlocks the door 'n Pony practically throws himself into the back seat with a huff.
Ohh, he was never goin' down for that kid ever again.
Soda comes bouncin' across the lot just as Steve's lightin' a kool, nearly snappin' the match in two with short, angry movements. "Well, hey good lookin'." Soda shoots him a questionin' look 'n Steve waves a hand dismissively.
"Hey, Pep. C'mon, let's go." He ducks into the driver's seat 'n Soda climbs into the shot gun. He twists to look at Pony, the backseat clouded up with Pony's own smoke.
"Hey, Pone, how was your day?" Pony scowls 'n shoots daggers at the back of Steve's head.
"Why don'cha ask him." Soda cranks the window down 'n sticks his head out.
"Well, glory, aren't the two of you just a blast."
...
Soda's got a shift down at the DX, a rare one Steve's not on. Though, he's got an inklin' that's on purpose. They had a habit of havin' too good of a time when they got shifts together. Though, it never stopped the one not workin' from boppin' on down to bug the other, work or no.
Steve floors it so he has time to take the back roads with the farms. Soda always loved to see the horses out in the field 'n Steve had no problem obligin' him. Usually, he would hit the hills goin' fast enough to make your stomach flip just so Pone could stick his stupid head out 'n whoop but he's sulkin' too hard to notice.
Whatever. Soda still points out each 'n every horse 'n that's good enough for Steve.
When they pull up to the DX Soda jumps out before the cars even come to a stop 'n Pony tries to slip out behind him. Steve slams a hand down on the lock 'n so Pony's just yankin' on the handle.
"C'mon Steve. Let me the hell out." Steve resolutely pretends he doesn't see him.
"See ya, Soda. D'ya want a ride home later?" Soda leans through the window again 'n snatches his DX shirt from the seat.
"Sure, Stevie." He raises his eyebrows 'n jerks his head at Pony, not subtly at all. "Assumin' you two haven't killed each other by this afternoon."
"I dunno. This afternoon ain't a lot of time to work with. Maybe tonight?" Pony scowls 'n Steve makes a face at him in the rearview mirror.
"Alright, you two. I'll catcha on the flip." Soda winks at Pony through the back window 'n Pony stops lookin' like the most put-out kid in the world to grin back at him. The second Soda's turned around Pony sinks back into his seat 'n goes back to poutin'. Good God.
Steve waits for the DX door to close behind Soda, 'n then he floors it again. "Where are we goin'?" Pony's sunk so low Steve has to stretch to see him in the mirror.
"Home, dumbass. You got some shit to say. Clearly." Pony hmphs but falls silent.
Darry's trucks not in the driveway when they pull up, to be expected. Pony snatches his stuff off the seat 'n marches inside without a word, slammin' the car door behind him. Steve has to force himself to take a long, slow breath to keep himself from finishin' the job those goddamn kids had started 'n cavin' in Pony's skull.
Glory, Darry must be wearin' off on him.
After a moment, he pulls the keys out of the ignition 'n trudges into the house behind Pony. When he gets through the front door, Ponyboy's already standin' in the livin' room, spine pulled taught, jaw all set like he's bracin' for a fight.
Steve has to fight the urge not to scoff at him. He's got a bandaid over his temple 'n bruises along his ribs that make him huff every time he moves 'n he thinks Steve is gonna square up with him. God. The kid was smart but he was also incredibly stupid sometimes.
"Well, c'mon. Out with it. What's with the attitude?" Pony bristles 'n scowls, clenchin' his fists up at his sides.
"I don't have a goddamn attitude."
"Yeah," Steve rolls his eyes 'n Pony makes a low, angry noise in the back of his throat. "Sure. None at all."
"Why can't you ever mind your own fuckin' business, Steve?"
"You are my business you fuckin' idiot." Steve can feel himself gettin' pissed off, he's clingin' to his patience by his fuckin' fingernails. "So this is what I get for stoppin' some assholes for stompin' you into the curb?"
"They weren't!" Pony explodes, stamps his foot so hard into the carpet the picture frames quake. "This may surprise you, Steve, but I can handle myself. I don't need you treatin' me like a goddamn kid."
For a moment, all Steve can do is blink at him. Then he feels the last shred of understandin' slip straight out of his head. "Pony are you stupid? You know what? Sure. You can handle yourself. Handle yourself so well you end up with a busted eye 'n a broken rib you idiot-"
"It wasn't that ba-"
"Sure!" Steve throws his hands up in exasperation. "It wasn't that bad. But it was about to be! Since when do you not want backup in a fight?"
"It's not that!" Pony's red in the face now, hair floppin' down in his eyes, knuckles white.
"So what the hell is-" Oh. Oh, alright. "Is this 'cause I didn't let you stay?"
Pony's wicked glare tells him all he needs to know. Glory God almighty.
"Pony. Look. I know you're smart. Give me one good reason why I wouldn't want you to stick around." Holy fuck, Darry really had been rubbin' off on him. He gives an involuntary shake.
"Because you're an asshole." And you know what? Darry was a fuckin' saint for not stranglin' the kid years ago.
"Yeah. A huge asshole who was coverin' for your ass. Pony think. If you had been there when that fight was busted up how the fuck do you think Darry would have reacted?"
Pony bites down hard on his lip. "I-"
"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't start it. But you couldn't have gotten into it at all if you had been in class. Y'know. Where you were meant to be."
"I was just-"
"Yeah. Sure. Save the I was just goin' to the bathroom, I was just gettin' some water, I, I, I for Darry. You were skippin'."
For a moment, Pony just glares at him. "And you were just playin' hall monitor, right?" Pony mutters, but he doesn't sound mad anymore.
"Yeah, kid. Someone's gotta do a tour to make sure someone's not beatin' your head in." Pony rolls his eyes but Steve just grabs him by his shoulder 'n pulls him in. "Look. I know you can handle yourself, man. You don't need me or Soda or Darry intervenin' for your ass. But just humor me, alright? Im tryin' save us both some grief from the big man."
Pony scuffs his toe in the carpet, runs a hand up the back of his neck. "Yeah. Alright. Deal. But you can't tell Darry I was skippin'."
Steve rolls his eyes. "Tell you what. If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours."
Pony narrows his eyes, hesitates, 'n then drops his head against Steve's shoulder. "Deal."
...
"Stevie! Pony? Any bodies need to be buried?" Soda bounds in, screen door flappin' closed. He sticks his head into the dark living room.
Pony 'n Steve are curled up on the couch, Pony's head in Steve's lap, Steve absently rakin' a hand through Pony's dark hair. The second Soda appears, Steve jars Pony so hard he slides right off the couch 'n onto the floor with an indignant wail.
"Well, hello, you two." Darry follows Soda inside, droppin' his keys on the table with a heavy sigh.
"Soda! What are you doin' home?"
"Darry picked me up." Soda wiggles his eyebrows at Steve 'n Steve hurls a throw pillow at his head.
"Speak of the devil." Darry crosses into the living room, fixes Steve with a stern look. He glances down at Pony, double takes the bandaid, the way he's rubbin' at his ribs. Looks back at Steve's raw knuckles.
"Y'all got somethin' to say? I got a call about a fight." Pony twists to look up at Steve 'n Steve shoots him a little grin.
"Yeah. You know me, Dar. Can't keep me outta trouble." Darry puts a hand on his hip, looks between the two of them, his face softenin'.
"I do." He rolls his eyes 'n turns towards the kitchen. "Glory, I do."
Pony 'n Steve shoot each other a look, bite back on a laugh. "C'mon, you brat. I'm cold. Get up on this couch." Pony kicks him hard in the shin but clambers back up, leanin' his weight on Steve's shoulder 'n fixin' his eyes on the TV.
When Steve looks up again, Soda's watchin' him with a sly little grin. "Hey, Stevie?" He plops down on his other side, yankin' one of the blankets from the back of the sofa. "Pony should make us late more often. It sure puts you in a real sweet mood."
#TYSM for the ask!!#this one was actually so fun to write#pony n steve are probably my favorites to write as far as relationship#they are such assholes#n i love them so much#very much i'd do anythin for you but tell you#hes a good brother when he isnt beating the hell out of pony#anyways#loved the chance to sneak in a bit of stevepop too#those boys are so sweet#i truly think no matter if you ship them or not their relationship is so insane#guys platonic or romantic theyre in love#and i will hear NO words#ANYWAY#someone free darry hes exhausted#the outsiders#sodapop curtis#ponyboy curtis#darry curtis#steve randle#the outsiders 1983#the outsiders fanfiction#my writing#writers on tumblr#stevepop
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maybe I haven't been looking at the sky
post-sonic 3 fic about stone. stobotnik too. oh yeah baby it's time for some pain.
word count is a bit under 3.6k
featuring: grief like so much grief, lots of hurt, a smidgen of comfort, second-person narration, so many goddamn timestamps, did I mention hurt, acknowledgement of shadow the hedgehog being like an actual teenager, shadow the hedgehog being kind of like a weird cat, the smallest hint of sonadow, and, of course, hurt.
have fun! >:3
p.s.: the title is from Maud Gone by Car Seat Headrest because I like that song and it fits too well
June 24, 2024, 3:26 AM
You wake up.
You don't immediately open your eyes, though, because if you stay in the darkness, you can pretend that everything is alright. You can pretend that nothing's changed.
You can pretend he's still here.
You open your eyes.
It's still dark, and you can only just barely make out the hotel room ceiling above you.
You can hear the soft pitter-patter of the London rain against the window.
You spare a glance at the clock on the bedside table.
You know you won't be able to fall asleep.
Four hours of rest is enough, anyway.
You get up.
You take a shower.
Your reflection in the mirror seems to bore holes through your skull.
You brush your teeth, and you get dressed.
You work, because you have nothing else to do.
You go to get shitty hotel coffee and breakfast.
On instinct, you grab two cups.
You decide you don't want coffee anymore.
June 24, 2024, 12:58 PM
Your lunch is tasteless, and not just because it's British.
You think you would've laughed at that only 24 hours ago.
You don't think about if he would've.
You don't have much to work on.
Your hands itch. Everything feels so still. So static.
You try not to think about it. You try to think about anything else.
You think about how cold it is for a summer day.
You think about the smell of rain on the sidewalk.
You don't look at the sky.
You count your steps to fill your mind with something, anything.
It takes you precisely 673 steps to get back to your hotel from the lunch spot.
You don't think about how odd it feels to walk so slowly.
You don't think about how lonely you are.
You don't think about the Crab sunk in the Thames.
You don't think about him.
June 24, 2024, 7:31 PM
It's been 24 hours since it happened.
You feel empty.
You feel empty and sweaty and gross despite the wind chill and you shower again.
Your reflection stares at you again. It accuses you, blames you. It says it's your fault.
In its eyes, you can almost see something like him.
You cover the mirror.
You get yourself ready for bed, and you lay there under the hotel duvet, air conditioner blasting, and you shiver, but you don't get up to change it.
The Doctor prefers it cold, so–
You stare at the ceiling. It looks blurrier than usual.
You don't fall asleep for another few hours.
June 30, 2024, 1:08 PM
Montana is certainly better than London. At least, you'd say so.
It was a good idea to keep paying the lease on the Mean Bean. It's something you know.
You can't decide whether the familiarity makes you feel better or worse.
At least G.U.N. doesn't want anything to do with you, which you are more than welcome to.
Your “house,” if it can even be called that, what with its studio apartment style, in the back of the Mean Bean feels foreign to you, but the warmth feels nice.
The café stays cold.
You say it's to save money on the heating bill.
You were always good at pretending.
July 23, 2024, 4:23 PM
It's been exactly one month.
The hedgehog visits you today.
You know you should be plotting against him. You should be planning your revenge. You should be scheming to get rid of him once and for all–
But you're just so tired.
And in the end, he didn't want what happened, either.
He smiles at you as he orders a hot chocolate, but you can see the tightness in his face.
You bring up the other hedgehog, Shadow, and he falters for a moment.
You don't smile, not really, but your face softens as you come to an understanding.
You can't talk about him, but listening to Sonic talk about Shadow helps to dull the pain for a moment.
Before he leaves, Sonic gives you a sad smile, and tells you he's sorry about the Doctor.
Your throat closes up.
You stand still as the door opens and closes.
Your hands are shaking as you close.
August 16, 2024, 1:15 PM
Ever since he visited you the first time, Sonic has come back every other day for a hot chocolate and a chat.
The kid seems to always have something to say. You suppose he's hyperactive in many ways.
He's nice to you, and a part of you hates it, but you can't get yourself to get rid of the kid. Even if he says he stops by to check on how you're doing, you know it's helpful for him, too.
Deep down, you feel guilty for commiserating with the enemy. The guilt is something you opt to push down, though, because it makes you think of him.
You're interrupted when Sonic walks through the door with his human quasi-father in tow. Tom, you think his name is.
If you're honest, he looks like shit. His arm is in a cast and he's walking with a slight limp. The bags under his eyes are nothing to scoff at, either, but he gives you a soft smile.
He only orders a water, and drinks it slowly as Sonic chatters at his side about the shop.
You know he's been worried about Tom, and you're glad to see he's alright, but a twinge of resentment bites at you.
Why couldn't have you gotten a happy ending, too?
August 27, 2024, 1:00 PM
He's back again, and he brought his friends: the fox and the echidna.
You freeze for a moment when you see the fox. The conversation you had with him plays in the back of your mind and you relentlessly shoo it away.
The echidna is still annoying, but it's funny to see him order a shot of espresso and then immediately choke when he takes one sip.
When you're not trying to fight each other, they're good kids. You appreciate the effort they're making, at the very least.
It's nice to have noise to fill up the air. Helps quiet the thoughts a little bit, especially when the shop doesn't get much traffic these days.
Chatting with the alien children gives you something to do, too, since you can't do latte art anymore.
Your hands start shaking the moment you try.
So, you listen to them talk: teasing each other, making bad jokes, ranting about this or that.
When they leave, they all say goodbye, and while the silence is still suffocating, you're finding it slightly easier to breathe.
September 10, 2024, 8:01 AM
It's his birthday today, and you can't get yourself out of bed.
You can't even properly cry. Quiet tears roll down your face and stain your pillow.
You can't get back to sleep, either. You don't know if you would even want to. You don't know if you could bear to see his face in your dreams.
You stare at the brick wall, bare of photos or posters or plans, and you can't get yourself to look away.
September 10, 2024, 1:30 PM
The door to your “house” opens and you jump from your bed.
Team Sonic broke into your house.
You would be angry. You should be angry. But you can't muster up the energy.
Sonic says something that you don't register, and Knuckles proudly holds out a messily-made cupcake in front of him.
When you get a closer look…
Oh.
It's for the Doctor.
When you look up, Sonic is giving you that same sad smile he did the first time he came to the cafe. He says he knows how you've been going through a hard time, and that since today is the Doctor’s birthday, he wanted to do something special.
It takes everything in your being to not burst out sobbing in front of the kids.
You all sit around the cupcake and sing to it.
You falter on the name. They don't seem to mind.
You can't bear to eat any of the cupcake, so you stick it in the fridge.
The second those kids are out the door, you cry so hard you can barely stand.
September 12, 2024, 1:12 PM
Tails bursts through the shop door, startling you and the single customer sitting at a table in the corner.
He starts talking, so fast you can only make out a few words.
Before you can tell him to slow down, Sonic runs in after him, smiling brighter than the sun and presenting to you…
…Shadow?
You nearly short-circuit.
How is he alive?
You ask as much, and they all shrug their shoulders, minus Shadow who stands there staring at you without expression.
Apparently, Shadow has some sort of minor amnesia. He can't remember much immediately before…
Well.
But, still, he's alive.
And that sparks something deep in your chest.
You wouldn't dare to believe anything. You know he's… gone.
But a tiny, near molecular voice in the back of your head says what if?
And you can't give into it, but the voice, small as it is, nestles itself in between your cerebrum and cerebellum.
Back to reality, the alien children have decided that Shadow will stay with you.
Their home doesn't have the room for yet another anthropomorphic hedgehog in it, apparently.
You don't seem to have a say in the matter.
You can't say you mind too much.
September 12, 2024, 4:25 PM
You take him in and set up a futon in a clear area of your house.
You give him a tour, which really isn't much considering there are only two actual rooms.
He follows you around, nodding or shaking his head slightly whenever you ask him a question. He's quiet. Shy, even.
You make a simple dinner in silence, and he mumbles a thank you when you hand him his plate.
He falls asleep while you're working, and when you get a closer look at him…
…Did he always look that young?
Minus the 50 years he spent in stasis, he couldn't have been more than 15. Maybe 16, if you're being generous.
His brows furrow in his slumber, painfully familiar, and you're suddenly reminded of the fact that he is, in a way, a Robotnik.
You draw in a sharp breath and blink away the stinging in your eyes.
Maybe you'll sleep early.
September 23, 2024, 1:08 PM
Three months.
It's been three months since it happened, and the pain has only barely dulled.
You're starting to wonder if the coping mechanism of bottling everything up as much as you possibly can isn't working as well as you thought it would.
Shadow has opened up more, at least. He's still quiet and sometimes stares at you, wide-eyed and expressionless, but you've had a good few conversations with him.
You've shown him how to operate some of the coffee machines, even if he isn't quite tall enough to reach them very well on his own.
Every day you spend with him, the more it sets in just how young he is.
For the first week or two after… what happened, you resented him for being a part of it all. But now?
You just see a scared kid.
Team Sonic has been back to the Mean Bean a few times since Shadow arrived. He's incredibly socially awkward and is not one for idle chit-chat, but you've seen a hint of a smile on his face a couple times, and that's enough for you.
His memories have been returning slowly. Despite the voice screaming at you at every waking moment, you don't want to hold out hope. You don't want to be crushed again when the inevitable reality hits you that he is really gone.
You remember when it happened, when three months ago, you watched the Doctor dedicate his last words to you.
You remember going through every stage of grief and then some all at once.
You remember thinking you were done with that process, then, after it hit you like a freight train in all of 20 seconds.
You checked into a hotel, perfectly calm. You went up the elevator, fine. You unlocked the door to your room, ok.
Then you shut the door behind you and realized you'd accidentally gotten a room with two beds.
You remember the taste of bile at the back of your throat.
You blink and you're back where you were, alien children conversing at the counter in your coffee shop. You realize you've been holding the same empty mug and towel for a while.
When you set them down, your palm is indented from the fabric.
October 12, 2024, 2:00 PM
Shadow has warmed up to everything a lot more since he arrived last month.
You've seen him shoot back straight espresso like it was water, which drove Knuckles insane, and, for whatever reason, made you glow with pride.
He's slowly started asking for things directly: meals, things to do, what have you. You finally got to make that revenge guac for you both. It was great.
You had to try to not choke on it.
He's insanely excited for Halloween. It's refreshing to see him like this. He's usually a pretty doom-and-gloom type of guy, and there's a pain within him that you resonate with. But right now, he looks so happy, asking if you can decorate the cafe for the holiday. Of course, you do.
His memory is almost fully restored, too. You're happy about it, but it also instills an intense anxiety in you.
You aren't sure which situation it is that's making you feel like this.
Maybe both.
It'll be 4 months in a little under a week.
You don't think it's stopped hurting.
When you get a moment to be alone, it all comes rushing back at you, and suddenly you feel like you did when it first happened.
But the hurting isn't that bad all the time. Not anymore.
It settles in your chest when you're distracted by something, knocking on your ribs when you're reminded of it.
It's constant, like a bruise that just won't go away.
But it's manageable.
What is less manageable, however, is the voice.
Every day that passes, the voice gets louder, crawling further into your brain and making itself known.
Hell, it's even shown up in your dreams.
As annoying as it is, though, it makes you think about your grief beyond what you had been.
Whenever you have one of the dreams, you wake up and shower, and sit in the water and think.
Mostly, your brain has focused on his absence. The fact that he's… gone.
But, then you start to wonder.
Would this have happened if you'd told him? Would he be gone if he knew how you felt?
Would that have even changed anything?
You have to stop before you spiral too far. Asking questions is dangerous.
You convince yourself that it's just the shower water running down your cheeks, even if your eyes burn.
October 23, 2024, 1:02 AM
You wake up.
You don't immediately open your eyes, though, because if you stay in the darkness, you can pretend that everything is alright. You can pretend that nothing's changed.
You can pretend he's still here.
You open your eyes.
The room is not silent. Faraway thunder rumbles in the sky and Shadow lightly snores from where he sleeps.
It's four months now, and you've suddenly forgotten how to feel numb.
Your hypothesis about emotional suppression seems to be correct.
You sit up.
You stare at your hands.
You can't breathe.
At first, you think someone is trying to kill you. That's the obvious answer.
But then you feel the tear drop down to the tip of your nose.
And then you break.
You lose all sense of time as your vision is flooded. You hiccup between sobs and you know you've always been an ugly crier.
What makes it worse is when you feel a hesitant hand on your shoulder, and look over to see Shadow looking at you with so much concern and understanding.
You don't want to cry in front of him. You're meant to be strong for him, for this kid that you've grown closer to, for this kid that you want to take care of.
But when he reaches up to hug you, all you can do is fall apart on his shoulder. And you feel so bad, because no kid should ever have to be the one to comfort an adult, but the tears keep coming and you can't make them stop.
You don't know how long you sat there, weeping on him, when it seems the well has run dry.
You try to mutter an apology to him, but he gets up and walks away. You stare at nothing in front of you and curse yourself for making this child have to support you, but he comes back with a glass of water, averting his eyes nervously.
You think back to the first week he was here.
He'd had a nightmare and woke up screaming and crying. When you'd gone to comfort him, you brought him a glass of water.
You had awkwardly stuttered about how crying can be dehydrating in a sad attempt to make him feel better, social skills be damned, and it had worked.
That was the first time he'd really smiled at you.
And now he's doing the same for you.
He says something similar about water and dehydration and you can't entirely understand what he's saying, but you smile as best you can through the tears in your eyes and take the glass with a choked thank you.
He lights up at the affirmation, and you feel a warmth bloom in your chest as you realize that you are to Shadow as Tom is to Sonic.
You gently ruffle the top of Shadow's head, the corner of your mouth quirking up. He flusters at the action and tilts his head, almost like a cat, you think, sporting a ghost of a smirk.
You tell him you're alright now and to go back to bed, and you yourself fall asleep with the knowledge that you are this weird alien hedgehog’s weird quasi-father, and you don't mind it one bit.
October 31, 2024, 5:30 PM
Turns out Tom and Maddie made a costume for Shadow. Sonic had apparently told them about something Shadow said about it after one of his trips to the Mean Bean, and they'd decided to surprise him. Needless to say, he was ecstatic. Others may not have registered the level of happiness he was at, but you know Shadow.
You know your boy.
Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails somehow convinced Shadow to go trick-or-treating with them. You encouraged him, too. He seemed a bit nervous, and even sort of embarrassed, but he ultimately agreed, smiling as he waved goodbye to you.
This was the first time in a while that you've been really alone. The pain starts to catch up to you and for a moment, you feel incredibly empty. Your throat begins to tighten.
You take a deep breath as the grief curls up once more, resting for the moment. It makes you cold.
You make yourself a simple latte and draw a little jack-o'-lantern on the top. Your hands still shake, but it's not too much to deal with.
You doubt anyone else will come into the shop. You already planned to close early for Halloween, and the sign at the front tells as much to any prospective customers.
You turn to begin dealing with the back counter, cleaning the machines and putting things back to where they belong. You've grown fond of the routine.
Then you hear the door open, and turn around to see Shadow running into the shop. His eyes are bright, brighter than you've ever seen them.
He tells you that he remembers everything now. He says, excited—God, it makes you happy to see him excited—that his memory is back and he can tell you what happened to–
The door opens again.
You look up.
He's there.
He's alive.
You stand there for a moment, completely still, completely silent.
You almost scream.
You leap over the counter, running and tackling him in the tightest hug you've ever given anyone.
He smells horrible. Like smoke and sulfur and dirt and grime and he's alive and he's holding onto you just as strong as you are and the voice is cheering and exploding into fireworks in your brain and the pain squeezes your heart in its hands and he's alive.
You don't even notice when the tears begin to fall. You only notice his pulse, alive, his breath, alive, his arms around you, alive, alive, alive.
When you finally pull back after what feels like both an eternity and a millisecond, you get a look at his face, and you put it in your hands and holy shit he is alive.
He looks absolutely disheveled and it's possibly the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and then he smiles, wide, genuine, warm, so rare, so real, and then he leans forward and kisses you and you can't think anymore.
He tastes awful and you've never loved him more than you do now.
#ripley doesn't say stuff#ripley doesn't know how to write#stobotnik#sonic 3#sonic the hedgehog#sonic movie 3#agent stone#shadow the hedgehog#ivo robotnik#fanfic#im really proud of this one#made my sibling want me dead (this is a good thing to me)#im having a little bit of brainrot#you know how it is#genuinely though this might be one of the best things ive ever written???#which is crazy considering its sonic the fucking hedgehog fanfiction#but what can i say im good at writing pain#also i did so much like. way too in depth research for this#i was looking up the weather in places on specific dates i was looking up sunrise times.#im normal. i swear. (lying)#fun fact if youve made it this far for some reason:#shadows costume is a clockwork orange!#ive never seen the movie myself but i feel like maria would've gotten her hands on it and watched it with shadow#ouuhh the siblings.....#anyways.#youve got better things to do than listen to me ramble in the tags#SCRAM!#angst#angst with a happy ending#teehee
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amangela au wip coming along beautifully
#i'm having way too much fun with this#and staying up far too late but we won't talk about that part#i can't wait for this to be done#how do i write a fic but skip the writing part#amangela#my fics#smosh rpf
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terranigma, a cool game
#terranigma#terranigma ark#terranigma elle#terranigma meilin#art tag#im going to write a little review in the tags bear with me#first the negative:#the magic system is weird to use and basically useless apart from one boss thats almost impossible without magic#it has some weird racism like most old games where you travel around the world. a little more egregious since its supposed to be real earth#i found the main character to be slightly insufferable for about 3/4ths of the game. i came around on him by the end tho. he grows up a lot#and i found whats by far the largest section of the game (chapter 3) to be the least interesting#im not really into helping cities develop and trade quests tho so it might just be me#oh also it is STUPID easy to permanently lock yourself out of like 15 sidequests#and theres a lot of mandatory things that are really hard to figure out. you need to use a walkthrough for this#anyway thats what i didnt like#what i DID like tho. i dont want to get into too much detail but#its a genuinely beautiful game for so much of it#there were so many moments that left me speechless#its high-concept and thoughtful and fun to play#you dont really need to do much grinding either#at its worst its obtuse and cliche but at its best its breathtaking#and i really recommend more people check it out#special shoutout to my friend seona who modded my 3DS and downloaded a bunch of roms including this one#so in conclusion. terranigma is an underrated gem. play it if youre a 90s jrpg junkie like me#just have a walkthrough open also lol
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#jacob seed#john seed#fc5 deputy#far cry 5#fc5#fc5 screenshots#far cry 5 screenshots#fc5 mods#far cry 5 mods#shirtless fc5 men#jacob seed x deputy#john seed x deputy#jacob x deputy x john#seriously it's so much fun to run around with these two... they're like bodyguards#way too op in combat and always there by deputy's side#tempted to write a whole ass AU about this trio...
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does anyone ever think about how rachels post gm lifestyle is basically as taylor described to her when they met up in new delhi and taylor never got to fulfill her side of it.. but a part of her will always be in rachels life because it was taylors care and companionship that helped rachel forge this life for herself and build a community that supports her.....
#one thing ward was good for was getting me really emotional over rachel lindt and how far shes come#sometimes i spontaneously remember her letter in worm and get nauseous#'being around you wasnt simple or quiet but things made more sense' lets all go kill ourselves right now.#taking the puppies round taylors place to show the kids... and she continues that years after. cause its fun for both her and the kids..#dont even get me started on#'your minion with the dark hair says we need to be around people but im around people and still feel somethings missing'#i will blow this whole building up. i mean it#they loved eachother so much and though taylor was too busy killing herself to remain with rachel#the time they spent together shaped rachel as a person and she carries taylor with her in that#ive spent like the last 30 minutes writing and rewriting this shit through tears theyre really getting to me#parahumans#wormblr#wolfspider#to be loved is to be changed and whatnot
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Here’s an edited wip of my Birdflash oneshot.
Fair warning, this will probably change in the final product as I try to figure out at what point in the timeline I want this fic to take place.
“You look like shit, Dickie.”
“Gee, thanks, Walls. You’re such a loving boyfriend,” Dick retorted. He tried for a smile, but Wally watched sadly as it twitched and fell before it could become what it once was–what Dick’s smile used to be.
Dick opened his door wider in invitation and Wally rushed in and examined the place. Gotham wasn’t ever known for its beauty, but even with that in mind, Dick’s apartment looked pretty rough. Empty containers of takeout and miscellaneous trash littered the floor and countertops. His couch was sprinkled with brown spots that he almost assumed were polka dots before he realized they were most definitely patches of dried blood. Clothes were strewn across every surface, their musk permeating his senses. Dick brushed past his side and made his way to the kitchen, opening his rickety fridge to expose the meager amount of food he had. Wally would bet his life savings that each of the five items had gone bad too, based on the state of the place.
Dick turned to toss Wally a water, “So…what, uh, brings you here?” Dick’s awkward tone hangs heavy between the two. Now that Wally could get a good look, his lover was in rough shape. Even worse than his apartment; which was a feat, his mind whispered. His hair laid limp and greasy along his neck and his bags seemed to have bags of their own. A couple of dark bruises peeked through the collar of his shirt, some leading down to his left arm if the strange way he seemed to carry it was anything to go by. Dick clutched his own water bottle, doing his best to look anywhere but at him.
“You haven’t been responding to my messages,” Wally started, “I texted the other Robin, uh Tim, I think? But he never got back to me either, so I got worried, you know? Figured I’d take matters into my own hands. I don’t have super speed for nothing.” He waved his hands around, doing his best to lighten the mood. “It’s been a long time since we’ve gotten to talk, let alone seen each other in person, but, you know, if this isn’t the best time, I can totally leave. I know this is kinda spur of the moment.” Wally wished he could slap himself the moment his lips stopped moving. Some of the younger heroes had started calling him a professional yapper and he wished it didn’t fit so damn well.
Wally watched as Dick took a breath and rubbed his temple as if he had a headache. He winced. Yeah, this probably wasn’t the best time to show up out of the blue.
“No, I…You don’t need to leave, “ Dick sighed. “I’m sorry I haven’t been responding, Walls. Everything’s just been… a lot, to put it simply. I’ve been so busy trying to balance my day job, Bludhaven, and…and being Batman. I just haven’t had much time to myself lately, if you can’t tell by the state of my apartment.” Dick laughed pitifully and winced when it shook his aching arm.
He couldn’t help moving forward into the kitchen and enveloping Dick in a hug, something he definitely should’ve done the moment he’d arrived. His partner sighed shakily and moved to wrap his arms around Wally’s middle. He felt Dick’s face pressed against his chest and hooked his chin to the top of his greasy head. Dick had always been one for physical comfort, a miracle considering who he’d grown up with and the environment he’d been forced into at the ripe age of nine. Wally would be lying if he didn’t say Dick’s need for physical affection didn’t bring him relief and make him feel needed. Sometimes, he felt powerless amidst his lover's strife–Batman’s rule against metas in Gotham limiting his ability to help. Providing Dick a simple hug; feeling the tense muscles in his shoulders loosen and his breath hit Wally’s neck as he sighed in relief, was Wally’s respite from his perpetual guilt.
Wally knew about Batman’s…death. He’d been there when Dick hosted Bruce’s funeral, letting Dick squeeze the life from his hand as he listened to the speech from Alfred. With Bruce gone, the natural order of Dick’s family had seemed to fall apart. Dick had taken the mantle of Batman, a title Wally knew he had never wanted–never felt right for him. He’d be lying if he said he fully understood the magnitude of such a change–that he knew how large the chasms carved by trauma had grown to separate Dick and his siblings. And yet despite that, he knew one thing for a fact. Dick, his lover and the man he’s known for well over a decade now was not the type of person to let others shoulder pain on their own. He took and took and took until he knew only he carried the weight of the sky on his shoulders, letting his muscles feel relief only when his family no longer felt pain. And he’d continue to carry that weight with a smile as long as he knew his family would smile back, unaware of the sky creeping in on Dick’s tense shoulders.
Wally squeezed his arms tighter around Dick’s back, supporting him as his breaths became ragged in their silent embrace. As Wally did so, a sick thought entered his mind, fueled by the anger and pain he felt for his partner; a small part of him–microscopic even–was glad Bruce wasn’t here. Not because he reveled in the effects his passing had on Dick, nor because he wanted Dick to be forced into the role of Batman, but because despite his struggles, Bruce had never been good for Dick. Yes, he played the parental figure Dick needed when he was younger and yes, he provided the necessities for Dick to survive, but he never provided what Wally knew Dick needed most.
“Do you wanna move to the couch, babe?” Wally whispered, cheek pressed against Dick’s head. He feels Dick nod silently and Wally zipped them to the couch in less than half a second. Wally sat and patted the spot next to him, watching as Dick laid his head on his lap, pressing his cheek to Wally’s stomach while letting his legs hang off the side of the couch.
Never one comfortable with silence, Wally broke it first. “If you don’t wanna talk, I won’t push. We can chill, watch the Office, eat popcorn–whatever you want. I just worry…you know? Not being able to be here to help and hearing on the news, Batman and Robin this and Joker and Two-Face that…I just wish I could do more for you.”
Wally looks down to meet Dick’s pained stare and internally winces as Dick opens and closes his mouth, struggling to respond.
“Me and the bats have it handled over here, okay?” Dick starts quietly, aimlessly running his hand over Wally’s knuckles. “You don’t need to worry about me, honey. I know you have more than enough to deal with back at Central and I don’t want to stress you out with problems I have handled.”
Wally lets his free hand run through Dick’s hair, quickly relishing in the way Dick warms to his touch. “I can’t lie and say I wouldn’t be stressed, you know me too well for that, but I’m here to support you, Dick. To be your listener when you’re stressed.” He paused for only a moment before speaking again, “I know you, Dick. I’ve known you for almost every era of your life as you have, mine. I knew you when you were my scrawny, baby leader-”
“Hey-” Dick tried to interject, but Wally kept going.
“I knew you when you wore that god awful blue and yellow disco Nightwing suit-”
“It really wasn’t that bad-”
“And I know what it looks like when you don’t have things handled. You don’t need to soften the blow for me Dickie and you don’t need to play the perfect soldier.” Wally paused. Let it be known even the Flash is out of breath from time to time. “You were always there for me during rough times, so please let me be there for you.”
#dc fanfic#dick grayson#dick grayson fanfiction#nightwing#dc comics#nightwing fanfiction#birdflash#wally west#wally west fanfiction#wally west flash#kid flash#im having a lot of fun writing this so far and its already much better than the og#that i wrote at like 4 am LMFOA#however im only uploading this now because i think i’m going to rewrite half of it LMAO#while i do think exploring dick as batman would be interestingg it just doesnt work for what i want with birdlfash#at least i dont think itll work#that whole arc is such a mess that i’m honestly not knowledgable on as i only just started the comics#and already dick feels too soft for that arc#so might change it for something idk yet#maybe i can make it work tho we’ll see#also just realized all my italicized words r gone after i copied and pasted from google docs#curse you google docs#curse you tumblr#dc#batman#batman fanfiction#bruce wayne
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HORIZON, the musical: "RETURN TO MERIDIAN" –or a feeble attempt at fanfiction.
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A journey back to the heart of Horizon world, both literal and emotional.
[CONTEXT: Post-HFW] A new threat looms over Meridian. Aloy heads back to Carja territory, determined to avert disaster.
“She made out below her the flaming silhouette of characteristic rocky mountains, bathed in the sun’s last rays. The glow of the sunset reflected off the water in a million sparkling stars she saw dancing before her eyes, like so many shards of fire and metal.”
This 'gamified fic' is an experimental concept, designed as an immersive interactive reading in sync with the Horizon games' OST—kind of like a 'reversed-soundtrack'.
Instead of writing music to illustrate a story, as is usually done, I thought it would be fun to try it the other way around. Because, why not? ^^
The layout will [guide you to] follow the flow, with the text becoming a mere subtitle to the music... which is ultimately the true hero of the story here.
[Teb’s voice] In any case… be ready to scroll!
🎵 On your marks...
' Headset...
' GO!!
>> 🎧 MUSICAL version (special layout)
>> 📖 TEXT ONLY version (traditional layout)
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SPECIAL THANKS
This fic is a first for me in every way possible: first time I’ve ever written a story (let alone a fanfiction), first time I’m publishing any of my work online… and it’s pretty terrifying!
Faithful Ao3 reader for years, I absolutely want to express my immense gratitude and admiration to all the amazing people who write for this beautiful fandom—and especially to @portabelloroad and @pikapeppa, whose work has brought me so much joy, greatly inspired me, and gave me the courage to step out of the shadows and start writing myself.
Who knows… maybe just one person might enjoy my story? Huge THANKS to these wonderful authors who will always hold a special place in my humble fan heart.
****
#horizon fanfic#ao3 fanfic#ao3 community#horizon forbidden west#hfw fanfic#aloy horizon#my first fic#experimental writing#inspired by music#please be gentle#horizon games#original soundtrack#post-game hfw#translation#gratitude#meridian#carja#aloy & avad#slow burn#fluff and angst#fluff and humor#by the sun#having far too much fun with this#interactive reading#audiobook
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ok so, i just want to comment a little on 2003 splinter. @purplepixel and i are on season 1 still, and im REALLY liking it thus far, but theres something i want to complain about.
why on Gods green beautiful earth is splinter annoyed at his kids for "breaking stuff" at aprils and being like "this is what i live like every day". like i get it. hes an actual rat. he doesnt know any better and thats a point i made in later episodes, but... bruh.
why am i mad? well, because the kids quite literally feel bad and offer to fix it. THEY dont know better either. they think this is the best way of doing it and are overconfident in their skills, but feel bad and offer to glue the plates together. yes, it doesnt do much, but... i dont know, im not saying it should be changed or anything, but something about a parent being annoyed at something THEIR KIDS WOULDNT KNOW NOT TO DO really just rubs me the wrong way. TEACH THEM BETTER THEN SPLINTER!!! like, mikey i get, but the rest? come tf on
yeah thats all lmfao
#overall 03 has been really good so far#very very good way of showing certain personalities#i LOVE raph so much#i love how they handle his anger issues#and his feelings#✨️Depth✨️#im scared of the future though#heard it might not be as good?#i like fun bad though#so well see#i know a lot of 03 fans are intense about it#and being the best show#but then complain about the subsequent shows?#is it because 03 fans are like we just want FIGHTS#and BOY STUFF#or whatever that means#because the writing is actually p good#the characters are relatively deep?#they have Emotions#and its beautiful#if they were flat id understand#not liking non-flat characters#theyre kids too#sometimes they dont but like.#they kinda do sometimes#i think its good writing!!#but i fear thats not what 03 fans like?#tmnt#tmnt 2003#ccw rambles
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The fact that glisten is either genuinely unaware of of the fact Rodger very much intended to leave him, or is just lying to himself that he wouldn’t possibly do that because facing the idea that he was legit about to be abandoned is too much to bear. AUGH. He’s being so positive to a delusional degree throughout the whole thing, but it gives the vibes of someone who’s trying to hold onto the positivity because they literally have nothing else and need SOME hope. Because he can’t handle the idea of the small bit of hope he has being crushed. But all it’s doing is disturbing the others and making him more and more desperate. He’s just very clearly in denial about both that Rodger was going to leave without him, and about the whole situation in general because if he accepts the reality of the situation- that he will continue to be alone for the foreseeable future, that no one’s coming to save him, it’ll break whatever’s left of him. The fact he took the job given to him so seriously, and is just trying so hard to be accommodating :(( AUGH. This gets me. It feels like putting down a dog
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HEHEHEHEEE Twisted Glisten in thick and heavy (emphasis on HEAVY) denial of what he's become and what his life is now my beloved, I am glad that hit :).
His mind is just *refusing* to comprehend the fact that he is *not* the same person he was before, and that most of what he's doing is just actively detrimental once he goes off the deep end (not realising his hands are digging into Rodger all the time, the constant constant denial and insistence that he can go with him and that he's fine actually nothing is wrong ever, the Twisteds are the problem here not him not ever him he's *fine* he isn't *one of them,* and what's intended to deter him and what are obvious lies are just forgiveable lapses of judgement or just straight up ignored from the other in favour of seeing them as the truth). If he actually stopped and thought about it for a moment out of Panic Mode / when he's not on the verge of snapping, he'd start spiralling once he actually realised what he's done (a little bit of that was shown but it was quickly shoved down and repressed by The More Important Thought ™️ in his head)
Heheee also loved the idea of him taking that sort of cover job Vee gave him just. Incredibly seriously. In his mind that just lodged itself in there: 'Yeah actually that checks out, I'm the sentient one down here and the Twisteds ignore me so I should be taking charge of Rodger's safety!' and then ESPECIALLY once Rodger is injured so badly does it take more root in his mind that's still swirling with ichor.
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: )
#ask box!!#madcatdaderpydrawer-blog#rubbing my hands together evilly. there were more scenes i wanted to add that i either didnt know how to portray well through text;#didnt know how to start writing AT ALL#or just didnt want to add stuff that would seem bigger than it was / would make it unnecessarily longer so Im probably gonna doodle the-#deleted scenes soon :)))#also fun fact: all three hearts were lost there :)#one with the first clawing; second with the tackle; third with being intercepted.#interpreting hearts as 'this is how much health you have before wounds start becoming fatal if unattended for too long'#thankfully glisten was fast enough in doing what he did that enough corruption was drawn out so he could try to work on actually fixing it#if he'd let the wounds fester for too long then yeah they would have gotten bad.#*also also edit to add tag after posting: one deleted scene I could not get out of my head will be there as well but its Not In Character.#like as far as the fic goes its not in character methinks and also wouldve have made it drag on longer so it got scrapped
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May I request Kiss Game 30 with Cambion Captain and Miss?
Thanks for asking for this ship! I think they're really cute and enjoyed writing this new little bit about them, especially since they didn't get a single vote in my poll 😢
30. A kiss to the palm of the hand
"Can you truly read palms to see my future?" she asked with wide eyes. Her delicate hand was cradled in his clawed red one, and held close to his face.
One corner of the cambion's mouth curled up. "You'll have to wait and see whether my predictions come true, and then you'll have your answer."
She blushed remembering some of the things he'd predicted. He hadn't stated anything improper outright, but he'd certainly implied. "I think it would be scandalous if they did."
He tipped his head down further but kept his glowing violet eyes fixed on hers as he pressed his lips to her palm. Her breath caught in her throat at the feel of his soft, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he gently folded her fingers over her palm, as if hiding his kiss there, before releasing her hand.
"Does their impropriety make you wish for them to come true, or the opposite?"
She ducked her head and looked shyly up at him through her eyelashes. "Would you think poorly of me if I said...the former?"
This time his smile curled up both sides of his mouth, exposing his sharp teeth. "Oh I don't think anything could make me think poorly of you. And certainly not that answer."
[If anyone wants to read more about this couple, their first ficlet is here]
Written for the kiss ask game. Keep 'em coming!
Read all of these kiss fic snippets at the tag #kiss snippet. Read all of my Regency monster stuff at the tag #my writing.
#i am making these kiss snippets far too long#but i'm having so much fun writing them#i can't help it#cambion captain#answers#snippets#my writing#monster love#monster lover#monster romance#regency romance#regency monster#regency#monster#monster x human#cambion x human#cambion#tiefling#oc#kiss snippet
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i drew (and headcanoned some of) people's courtneys. too out of it to tag the specific ppl these courtlets come from so if you see your courtlet say hi i guess? wanted to post this since i love this piece so much and i love seeing how people interpret concepts.
and a bonus featuring my own courtlet. thank you.
#pkmn#rse#oras#magma admin courtney#team magma#hiii here's the silly commentary part lol so. uh. lately ive been so out of everything lately and ive been between amazing and a mess#as i figure out my own courtney's character i've given up on a thing ive been at with for several months. ive met some good friends too.#but even as i give up that thing im still cooking up new things like me FINALLY coming up with my continuity's events and stuff YAY!!!#i really really wanna share some stuff but 1) i don't have a lot and it's hard to really discuss stuff with the way i think#2) it's been hard to draw lately. idk why. 3) im worried ppl will go after me because this story is kind of edgy to an extent and#we are far past the edgy emo dark story stuff and I'm worried ppl will chock it up to “look into my sick and twisted mind” and not#like. something i am happy with and love and like. want to do so much with!!! idk!!!! i wanna make a narrative that is so crazy. that is al#if anyone wants me to talk about my continuity and ESPECIALLY about my courtney please send asks i am realizing that#the loneliness and my disconnect from reality is starting to get to me and i need to think about other stuff. i just like talking to people#and bouncing off ideas and stuff. it would be fun. you guys have no idea how good of a writing exercise making your own pkmn continuity is#ANYWAYS. tldr. please please talk to me about these things. i love talking about headcanons and silly stuff. thank you.#too tired to tag with my tag. goodbye.
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you know what you should do to celebrate hawai'i, mermay, and the return of dracula daily?
whump helix. \:D/
(no i don't know what that has to do with any of the aforementioned celebrations but you should do it anyway)
...
You know what, you're absolutely right.
And it just so happens that I was researching adrenaline poisoning for COMPLETELY UNRELATED REASONS yesterday, and, well- Helix does seem like the type, doesn't he?
Helix hasn't slept in five days.
For the first three, admittedly, it was because of the clean-up.
Dukov had been rough. The intel from the Senate had been so bad he'd overheard Crys theorizing that maybe they'd intercepted a Seppie briefing instead, right before a sniper had nearly taken his arm off at the shoulder. Three days of mainlining stims until the situation had gone from cataclysmic to merely chaotic. Three days until both Needle and Stitch could get a few hours' sleep, after Helix's own customized blend of reassurance and orders had sent them to bed with minimal resistance.
He was feeling far too twitchy to sleep, anyway.
The next day had been the flimsiwork. His least favorite bit, and it had been easy to reach for another stim from his own stash. Just to power through.
(Besides. The others would get pissy if he finished off the unit's stockpile.)
He sets the last datapad aside and rubs absently at his forehead.
The headache is multiplying, and frustration grows with it.
A twitchy agitation pushes him to his feet and out of his office to find Needle splinting a sprained wrist, poking gentle fun at the blushing shiny whose name he cannot for the life of him remember. The sudden burst of irritation at the sound of Needle's snorting laugh takes him by surprise, and for a moment all he can do is blink owlishly at the pair until Needle glances up.
"Helix!" he exclaims, unfairly delighted, and Helix scowls at him reflexively. "Emerged from your lair at last? Hope you had a good nap-"
"Get some sleep when you're done with that," Helix snaps. "I'll take first shift."
"Stitch is already sleeping, I sent him off an hour ago-"
"Then join him. Get some rest. You should know better than to not take advantage of the opportunity."
Hypocrite, a little voice whispers. Helix squashes it mercilessly, stalking out of the medbay without waiting to hear Needle's response.
Gym. Yeah. That sounds good. He's spent too long sitting in front of a datapad today; he needs to work this twitchiness out.
Then caf, if he's gonna be on shift. Needle and Stitch need the rest.
(He's pretty sure he'd stashed another stim in his gym bag, too.)
And the night... passes.
His datapad never beeps.
Helix hammers at a punching bag until nausea begins to rise, at which point he realizes that he can't quite remember the last time he ate something, and- because he's a responsible medic- heads for the mess.
More time had passed than he'd realized, apparently. The mess is still empty, but there are lights on in the kitchen, and he can hear Terror's muffled shouting as he snags a ration bar off the all-hours table and makes his way out. They'll probably be seeing someone else in the medbay soon enough, if Terror's that loud this early, and he gulps down the ration bar before jabbing another stim into his neck.
Damn it.
The nausea hasn't abated by the time he reaches the medbay doors. He scowls at the wall for a moment, remembers to inhale, and kicks the door open to make himself feel better.
"You look like shit."
When did Needle get here?
Helix can't quite find the answer, but Needle's sure as hell here now- right in front of him, brow furrowed, and blocking his way to the caf machine.
"Move."
"No," Needle says blithely, and before Helix can react to that stunning indignity, warm fingers are curling around his wrist. He stills instinctively, and Needle graces him with a quirked smile before returning his attention to his pulse.
"Tachycardic," he sighs, dropping Helix's hand. "Consider me unsurprised, Dukov was bad. How much have you slept?"
Helix elects for the time-honored tradition of saying nothing.
"...Have you slept?"
Time-honored traditions have to start somewhere.
"All right," Needle says, and Helix isn't sure what happens next- only that suddenly Needle's arm is wrapped around his waist, and they're moving further down the medbay, and then he's sitting on a mattress he doesn't remember seeing-
"You know the drill," Needle informs him, and oh, yes, right, Needle's here too, isn't he? "Start coughing. I'll give you thirty seconds before I start a line-"
Then something clatters at the entrance to the medbay.
"Hello?" asks a wavering voice, and Needle swears under his breath.
"You," he says, poking Helix's nose, "stay right here. I'm just gonna triage, I will be right back. Keep coughing."
Helix glares at his retreating back until Needle vanishes around the corner.
Then it's just him.
There was- something he was supposed to be doing, right?
Yes. Tachycardic, Needle had said- cold packs can help, he knows. The vagus nerve. Right.
But Needle's gone.
He levers himself up and heads for the supply closet, ignoring the way the nausea sloshes in the pit of his stomach.
He steps inside. Flicks the light on.
And promptly vomits all the way down the front of his scrubs.
Something twigs at last.
"Well," he says eloquently, "fuck me."
That is the last thing he remembers for some time.
"You," a voice announces, "are such a bastard."
"Mmph."
"No, no, you don't get to do that. You're awake, I need answers, and to be frank I'm not feeling particularly merciful, you absolute- no. Okay. Name."
"..."
"Helix."
"That."
"I- fine. Nauseous?"
Helix takes a moment to assess.
"No."
"Jittery?"
He curls his fingers into a fist, testing.
"No. Jus' tired."
He can hear a steady beeping at his left, and waves in its vague direction. "Turn that off."
"The fuck I will," Needle snaps. "Consequences of your actions, boss, you're gonna have to deal with it. Where's your stockpile? I checked our stash, you didn't take enough from there to trigger this."
Helix pries his eyes open. Needle is standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, scowling at him.
"Not telling."
A muscle in Needle's jaw jumps.
"Stitch?"
The expression on Stitch's face when he peers around the corner is one of naked relief.
"Yes, Needle?"
"You're on Helix duty. Make sure he doesn't get out of bed, otherwise I'll have to kill him. I'm gonna tear his office apart."
"Tear my-"
"If you'd cooperate," Needle says, with gritted-teeth cheer, "then I wouldn't have to. But since you don't seem to appreciate the fact that you overdosed on your own stims, it looks like I'll have to do it myself."
He's gone before Helix can muster a response.
Stitch, meanwhile, has apparently taken Needle's threat to heart. He climbs onto the bed and splays starfish-style across Helix, wriggling up until they're nose-to-nose, and Helix's burgeoning indignation evaporates in the face of Stitch's too-wet eyes.
They stare at each other for a long moment, and then Stitch lets out a little sigh and tucks his face into the crook of Helix's neck.
Helix gives up considering standing.
"What happened?"
"Epinephrine overdose," comes the muffled reply. Inside his office, something bangs against the wall. "Needle found you in the closet. You were covered in vomit."
His scrubs are clean.
Stitch lifts his face and rests his forehead against Helix's. "Ventricular tachycardia," he says quietly, and Helix breathes out. "You went into v-fib. He had to shock you to get you back."
His face screws up before smoothing out with an all-too-familiar caution, and Helix, aching, rests a hand between his shoulder blades. "I was getting breakfast. Needle did it all by himself. You came back same time I did."
Another crashing sound. Something splinters.
"You should apologize," Stitch says sternly, and Helix chokes out a laugh.
"'m sorry, Stitch," he says, and tries his best to squeeze the hand Stitch is holding. "I didn't mean to."
"High epinephrine levels can compromise rational decision-making," Stitch informs him. "I know."
"If I promise not to get up, will you move?"
"Am I hurting you?"
"No, but-"
"Mm. Then no."
"Stitch-"
"Deep pressure therapy lowers heart rate."
"Is that what this is?"
"Yes."
"Not a hug?"
"That comes second."
"Okay, Stitch," Helix sighs. Deep pressure therapy or a hug, whatever it is- it's working.
He's asleep in less than a minute.
When he dips briefly back into the waking world, he can feel the dip in the mattress.
"Stims are taped to the bottom of my desk drawer," he says quietly.
"I know," Needle mutters.
Silence.
"How's my desk?"
"I'll get you a new one."
Another, longer silence.
Fabric shifts as Needle leans back, folding his arms across his chest. "I'll be keeping count."
"Okay."
Helix twists his head to the side, peering upwards.
Needle is staring at the wall.
"You don't have to get me a new desk," he offers.
"You're shit at apologies, you know."
Helix falls silent.
Then Needle sighs, too loud in the dull lights of the night shift, and Helix sees a wry smile twist across his face.
"Go back to sleep," he says, "and I won't ask for one."
Helix obligingly closes his eyes, and for once, doesn't say anything scathing when Needle's hand settles on his forehead.
Wait. One thing-
"Hey," he mutters sleepily. "At least now you know what it's like."
"What?"
But Helix is already asleep.
#HAPPY MAY THE FOURTH EVERYONE SEND ME PROMPTS#getting back into the groove of writing as things start to settle down#helix is so much fun to whump monopoly you were right#I OWE YOU LIVE REACTS YOU BRILLIANT BASTARD#anyway hope you all enjoyed helix pushing himself too far AGAIN#needle keeps both of them from spiraling too far and none of them realize it#shoulder the sky
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i appreciate the changes they made for the sake of theatricality in the film
#im realising its also the type of thriller that really reads better on paper#if those two people my age leaving the theatre said anything its that the film moves too slowly for some 😭#/i/ liked it. and im also enjoying the book#the explosion was much less immediately dramatic in the book lmao#<- reading conclave#i don't think the changes are better or worse necessarily#but i do think it was good considering the change in medium#also if you've read this far im assuming you've seen the film#but if not then spoilers ahead:#iirc in the last kind of group meeting before the final ballot#benitez didn't speak until the very end in the film#which imo made his speech a bit. paltry? if that makes sense??#but in the book he did actually speak earlier and rose his voice even to get their attention#he seems more human in the book which i appreciate#though that they had lomeli tell bellini the name he wanted in the film was fun#and in the book. ok wait actually I'm scared the tags will cut off lol. I'll just write it down#and post later...
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Pre-2000s comics are superior for being able to make their characters not be as clear-cut and stereotypical (classic Peter Parker and his personality, motivations and views on stuff, pre-2000s Wolverine for being more than just the wild berserker but a man with strong morals and hobbies/interest you wouldn't expect for a gruff berserker) AND for writing out their accents (reading 90s Wades accent can be a wild experience sometimes and i miss that) whitch helped with making them sound unique and recognizable
GOD i miss wade's accent SO much. i loved the way he talked.
it's something i try to write in when we're in flashbacks or when i'm writing the cablepool fics - wade talks a whole lot more like he did in the older comics.
BRING back wade's stupid accent i say. i miss when he talked like a looney tunes character.
#i think there were still a bunch of good comics in the 2000s but. i wholeheartedly agree that pre-2000s peter parker was.#so much more fun pre-2000s#i think a lot of things got way too serious in the 2000s. comics included.#i don't like all the kind of.. mythology they started introducing to spider-man in the 2000s. not into it.#i always was about peter parker just being an ordinary guy who just happened to have been bitten by a spider.#i kind of hate any storyline that frames peter as somebody special or cosmically chosen or anything. not into it.#also was far more into the silly goofy day-to-day nonsense prior. the 2000s everything started having to be world-ending stakes.#there's probably a reason for that. hm. hm.#sci speaks#i could write an essay about th
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