#we’d get slaughtered

[forever-rogue]

Hi babes! So I’ve had this idea running around my brain for days.

Basically Cooper Howard and the reader knew each other pre-apocalypse (up to you wether it was romantic or platonic) but after the bombs go off, the reader makes it to a vault where she is put in a cryopod for 200 years to see that the rest of her vault is dead from asphyxiation (I definitely didn’t think of this by playing fallout 4). So she escapes and later finds Cooper (she recognises him and then realises it’s him), it’s up to you how it goes from there 🫶🏻.

Anyway, I love your work! Hope you’re doing great! 💗

AN | I love this concept. Enjoy❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; mentions of canon typical violence

Word Count | 3.1k

Masterlist | Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind, sugar,” Cooper came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. You made a small sound of content before leaning into him and turning your head to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

“I’m just…thinking,” you whispered before turning around so you were facing him. The warm evening breeze swirled around the two of you as you leaned against the porch railing, and looked down the Hollywood hills. He took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

“You do that a lot,” he teased as you rolled your eyes in amusement, “too much thinking ain’t good for you.”

“Well, between the two of us, one of us has to use a brain cell once in a while,” he scoffed as he gently squeezed your cheeks before pressing a kiss to your lips. When he let go, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him a few more times, “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” he confirmed with a soft nod, “I love you too, sweetheart. You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“I suppose,” you sighed lightly, resting your hands on his chest, “do you think that...it seems silly, but do you think that it'll ever happen? The nuclear war. Or do you think it’s all just a big pissing contest?”

“I think,” he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips in order to press a kiss to your knuckles, “that you worry too much too often.”

“I know,” you agreed, “I know I do. I just can't help it sometimes. What if something happens?”

“If anything were to happen, we’d face it together and figure it out,” he promised and while you liked the idea of his sweet words, it didn’t totally alleviate your worries. He’d been trying to convince himself as much as you.  It had been a constant in his mind as well. He wasn’t as good of a liar as he believed he was.

“Rest assured Cooper Howard,” you whispered softly, “that I will always find you and be with you. No matter what life brings.”

He pressed his forehead to yours and let out a small sigh. You echoed the sound sweetly before kissing him again, “I promise, Coop.”

“I promise too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Cooper?” your brow furrowed as you looked at the tall figure standing in front of you. The first time seeing a Ghoul had almost caused you to have a heart attack; you hadn’t been expecting to see someone so…crispy. Being asleep for the last two hundred years hadn’t prepared you for half the things you’d seen in the short time since you’d escaped Vault 111. Like the radroaches - seriously? Weren’t those things bad enough normal? Nature had definitely fucked up with that one. 

Some things you could get used to easily, but other things were definitely going to take time. Two hundred years had passed and you hadn’t experienced a single thing. In some ways it felt like you’d been a lamb left to slaughter. 

After you’d gotten over your initial shock at the Ghouls, you’d realized, with a heavy heart, that they were just people too. People had suffered unfortunate circumstances but they were still just people…mostly. Realistically you’d been rather lucky when it came down to it. You had a long nap while others suffered.

But you’d recognize him anywhere; you’d memorized every part of him so many years ago. You weren’t sure if you could ever forget him. 

But this…this wasn’t who you were expecting to see. Honestly, you didn’t expect to see him ever again, but here he was…alive and breathing. Maybe.

“Cooper,” you took a step closer while he took a step back, his hand brushing along the holster at his side. You held up your hands in a meek attempt to show your innocence; it still made your heart constrict to see his response to you, “i-it’s me.”

“I’m ain’t fallin’ for that one, sweetheart,” he drawled, causing a frown to tug down the corners of your mouth, “I know when I’m hallucinating and I’m not about to go feral.”

“What are you…talking about?” you watched in confusion as he reached into his pocket and grabbed a small vial before downing it in one go. He tossed the bottle to the side, letting it clink off the side of a building, “I don't ... I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t understand anything here, but I know it’s you. I’d know you anywhere.”

He made a sound at the back of his throat as he blinked a few times, still looking at you as if he was trying to decide if he’d already gone feral or whatever it was called. You wondered if he would even possibly shoot you. 

“That’s impossible,” he said quietly as he studied you. It was like you were frozen in time - you looked exactly the same as you did two hundred years ago. It wasn’t possible for you to look like that when he looked like…a monster, “you look just like her but you can’t be her.”

“Cooper Howard,” you sighed in exasperation, running a hand through your hair. You’d always done that and he’d seen that look on your face a thousand times before, “I don’t know exactly what happened to me. I-I woke up and I was in one of those weird vaults that they used to talk about and there was no else there. A couple of skeletons and a bunch of these giant cockroaches-”

“Radroaches.”

“Radroaches,” you rolled your eyes and that almost had him let down his guard, “and I got out. I don’t know what year it is and I don’t know what’s happened. I’m just here. And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or where I’m going or what’s even happening in the world anymore. But I found you. I know it’s you. I told you that I’d always find you.”

He allowed himself to relax as he tried to put the pieces together to see if your story made sense. The worst part of it all was that it made sense. The day the life as he’d always known it stopped, he hadn’t seen you. But he knew that you’d been at the Vault-Tec headquarters that day. It made sense. It made sense.

He hated that. Hated that you were forced to experience this strange new world, and even more that you had been all but abandoned to figure it out for yourself. But he couldn’t deny that there was a palpable feeling running through his entire being at the sight of you. Your smile was just as pretty as he remembered; he thought about it a lot. Thought about you a lot, still to this day, despite the fact that it had been literal centuries. 

He’d accepted that you were dead a long time ago. But here you were, a ghost of a life that once was. 

You let out a nervous laugh at his silence, feeling like a fool, “are you gonna say anything or am I just going to keep standing here like an idiot?”

“You should turn back around and walk to the nearest vault and pray that they take you in,” was all he managed to choke out as you felt the tears start to sting at the back of your eyes. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to possibly even say to him, “you ain’t cut out for his world. You weren’t made for it. You ain’t gonna survive up here on the surface.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you stomped your foot, an unwitting little habit that you had, “you want me to just walk away?”

“Yeah,” he pulled the brim of his hat lower, voice gruff, “I do.”

“Oh,” you scoffed, trying to hold back all that you were feeling, “and what? You’re cut out for this world?”

“Look at me,” he growled deeply, “I’m a fuckin’ monster made for this world.”

You flinched at the sound of the self hatred in his voice. He wasn’t anything like you’d remembered or expected, but he was still your Cooper. 

“You should get going, darlin’.”

You turned on your heel, ready to walk…somewhere. Anywhere other than there, left to be humiliated.

“Tell me one thing,” you turned back to face him, finding that he was still watching you intently, “what year is it?”

“2296.”

Your heart almost stopped for a moment as you tried not to panic. 

Over two hundred years since you’d last walked the world. You’d been sleeping for over two hundred years while Cooper had been suffering. You had so many questions, but more than anything your heart hurt for everything that he’d been through.

You offered him a nod before walking away, this time for real, trying to figure out what the actual fuck you were going to do.

Cooper watched you go wordlessly, eyes on you until you were but a small speck in the distance.

“Who was that?” Lucy appeared at his side along with the canine companion they'd named Dogmeat, a curious expression on her face, “did you know her?”

“It was no one,” the sharpness of his voice caught Lucy off guard and she raised her eyebrows in question, “just lost.”

“Okie dokie,” she hitched her backpack higher onto her shoulders, “we should keep going before it gets dark.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with her, finding his heart wasn’t quite in it, “get a move on kid.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was a weird world. Like really weird. There were creatures that you'd encountered that appeared to be descendants of the ones you'd known during your previous life. Roaches definitely weren't supposed to be the size of dogs. Dogs really shouldn't have been up to your shoulders. And that thing that you'd encountered that was maybe a fish? Wild.

It was all so much to get used to and it felt like you were a child all over again. You had met a kind woman that had taken you into her diner (or whatever a diner was these days) and helped to get you back on your feet. The first order of business? Getting rid of the vault suit; not'd noticed an immediate shift in how people treated you once the suit was gone. 

The one thing that hadn't changed? Men. Men continued to the worst, leering shamelessly after you. Looks like not even radiation can evolve that out of men.  

You still had not clue what you were going to do with your life or anything really, but at least now you had a safe space to learn to adapt and overcome. Now you just had about two hundred years of history to catch up on. Learning about places called the New California Republic and New Vegas definitely told you that something big had happened.

Everything else, you hoped, would fall into place over time. You did, however, have your suspicions that Vault-Tec were nothing but a bunch of liars confirmed. There was that at least. And you'd learned what a Ghoul was - what Cooper was. It didn't sound like it had been a fun reality for him.

At least if you were going to start aging naturally, you wouldn’t have to suffer in this hell forever.

You were helping around the diner one afternoon when the doors swung open to reveal Cooper, along with a young woman and a dog. Funny, you thought to yourself, Cooper had always adored dogs.

The rag dropped from your hand as blinked wordlessly at them. Neither you nor Cooper said anything, silence thick and heavy between the two of you.

“Do you have any pie?” The young woman asked, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips as she looked around, “and maybe some water?”

“S-sure,” you stammered nervously pointing at the table towards the back, “I'll get that pie.”

And just like that, Cooper was back in your life.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Without Cooper, you weren't quite sure what to do. Honestly, you had been sure what you'd do once you left the vault along, but you figured when you found him that things would fall into place…or make a little more sense anyway. But as you'd made your way through the skeletons that littered the vault, you weren't entirely convinced that this wasn't some sort of fever dream.

And Cooper had turned his back on you.

Only to come back to rescue you.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice dropping softly, almost like he was letting down his guard, “how did you end up in one of those pods?”

“I don't know,” you admitted, wiping your hands on your knees as you looked at him, “I-I remember bits and pieces but not the whole thing.”

He made a small sound of acknowledgment but didn’t say much else. You’d been wracking your brain for weeks now - ever since you’d escaped the vault - about what exactly happened before you took a centuries long nap.

“The last thing I really remember was speaking with that Maclean kid, the one that had recently started working at Vault-Tec. We got into an argument about something and he shoved me around and then…I think he hit me. The next thing I can remember is waking up.”

“Life is funny, ain’t it,” he pinched his brow before looking at you with a pained expression, “Hank Maclean is still alive. The girl I’ve been traveling with…she’s his kid. I think everyone finally found just what kind of a person he is. And it ain’t a good one.”

“He’s still alive,” you breathed out heavily, trying to decide if you were angry with him or…in a twisted way, thankful. You supposed the last two hundred years could have been a lot worse than just sleeping through them. But then again, if you’d been awake and aging, you’d have been long dead by now, “this is all so…weird.”

Silence fell over the two of you for a few bit, as you started at the roaring fire. It was dangerous, or so you’d been told by almost everyone you’d encountered. But somehow with Cooper by yourself, you didn’t feel scared or nervous. 

“I looked for you,” he said after a short while as your attention snapped to him, “for a long time. Decades.” 

“Really?” your voice cracked on the simple question as he nodded.

“After a while, I realized you were probably dead,” your heart twisted at that, “it was the only logical answer. Unless you’d ended up like me and I would never wish that on you.”

“What happened, Cooper?” you asked softly. You wanted to know but you also didn’t want to push him either. You still had so many questions about this strange new world, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Your curiosity was one of the things I always loved about you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, almost sounding just as you remembered, “to put it simply, radiation. I got a little bit too much of that radiation and then I became like one of them radroaches, adapting and surviving.”

“Radiation,” you repeated softly, “fuck me. Am I going to-”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured you, “radiation levels are livable now.”

“Oh,” you swallowed thickly as you gave him a nod, “that’s good…I think.”

“You don’t deserve to have to live in such a world,” he caught your eye and looked at you intently, “in a way I wished you’d never have had to experience it. It would have been easier if you’d just…died that day they dropped the bombs. But in a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. Still the prettiest face I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted in amusement as your face warmed up, “still the biggest flirt I’ve ever met Cooper Howard. In a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here too.”

“You’re telling me that you’re happy to see his ugly old face?” he asked, his voice turning gruff and bitter, “darlin’, you could be looking at a gulper and it’d be a prettier sight.”

“What’s a gulper?” your mind reeled with possibilities of what in the actual hell a gulper was. 

“I…nevermind,” you didn’t need to know about those horrors just yet, “there’s a lot of things that are prettier than I am.”

“Agree to disagree,” you insisted with a soft laugh, “I’m glad you’re here, you know. Even if it sucks and this whole world sucks. I’m glad you’re still here. Selfish or not.”

You stood up and brushed yourself off before walking over to him and plopping onto the ground next to him so you were facing him. You reached for his hand and took it in yours, giving it a squeeze so tender that it almost made him cry. He never thought he’d get to feel such a touch ever again.

“So,” you whispered softly, “what’s next?”

“You’re not ready to run for the hills and hide?” he joked, half serious.

“Nope,” you promised, “besides, what the fuck am I going to do here by myself? I know nothing about anything anymore.”

“Want to help me and the kind find Hank Maclean?” he asked as your eyebrows raised up, “it’s a long story.”

“I’m in,” you promised, “but there’s one thing I want to do first.”

“And what’s that, sugar?”

“This,” you leaned in and took his face in your hands, before gently leaning and kissing him. When you pulled away he looked at you in surprise, “that’s all.”

“C’mere,” he put his hands on your hips and hauled you onto his lap, “you should know better than to start something you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I fully intended to finish,” you grinned, “I’ve missed you, Coop.”

“I’ve missed you every day for a long time,” he sighed, “I’m not letting you go again.”

“Good.”

[foldingfittedsheets]

So tonight in DnD. I have laughed harder than I have in a very very long time.

As background knowledge, we have an “Oops All Dragons” party. We’re modified young dragons so it’s not a huge advantage but at this point three fourths of the party are dragons.

We get called in to usurp two warlords. The setting is like fantasy mad max desert. One warlord was a warlock, the other a centaur fighter. Our first plan was that our dragons would dye themselves a different color to pretend to be rogue dragons and attack the city. They would take out the warlord. Then our bunnyfolk barbarian was gonna run in and take us down afterward to become the figurehead for the city.

But when we turned up the warlord had a pact with a demon who threatened that if we didn’t throw the fight he’d destroy the town with meteors. We started trying to scope out the magical trigger for the threatened spell. Our cleric-dragon started trying to sense magic.

After swooping all over the town we realized the magic was centered on the warlord. But we didn’t know for sure. And one dragon swooping close was just gonna be a target. So I said, “Hey… this one time my younger siblings loosed their… feces… after a dive”

The resulting hilarity took a while to calm down but finally the DM was like, “You want to try to blind him with your shit?”

Yes. Yes we did. But none of the dragons wanted to be the only one raining shit. It was embarrassing. So we decided that all three of us would try this gambit.

My dragon went, they doused him with a face full of poop but didn’t blind him. The Druid-dragon went next and did similarly well.

But he got the jump on the cleric-dragon, and furious, covered in dragon shit, he cast a fireball at her. Unfortunately for him, she has the ability to steal a spell. So the fireball launched then sling shotted straight back into his face.

There he was. A steaming flaming pile of burning shit. And then she shit on him too.

My dragon managed to dispel the rune circle we’d detected with the gambit, and he fled into the crowd to be torn apart by his oppressed people.

Then we did a WWE style fight with our barbarian and he managed to almost kill our Druid on accident and the dragons fled on schedule.

Success- after a fashion! We usurped the guy and shit all over the town.

There’s a second warlord we need to target. We decide what’s a little identity theft so our cleric posed as a grunt we’d killed previously called “The Haboob Wraith.” A haboob is genuinely a desert sandstorm but it was hilarious regardless.

We roll into town deciding to duplicate our piggyback tactics from the last one on one fight we had. The party was escorted into a champions tent and presented with the finest things before their fight to the death. The finest thing in this case is…. Milk.

We all paused and out of character said, “Did you just say milk?”

“Yeah! Like nice cow milk! It’s rare in the desert!”

I lost my fucking shit that the finest thing on offer was milk. So the Haboob Wraith strode into combat with a stomach full of milk.

The centaur warlord said, "I hope you've prayed to your gods, you're about to meet them."

"The gods pray to ME!" she shouted and went on to slaughter him.

We installed a second puppet warlord and rode off into the sunset, all of us staggered by the utter silliness of the whole session, and said goodnight with many a shit pun.

[anthurak]

Something in the Helluva Boss fandom that I’ve been finding more and more… silly, is people assuming that D.H.O.R.K.S. are going to be some major threat and in general making a big deal about ‘Humanity finding out about Hell’ ever since Truth Seekers. Because I feel like all those takes are kinda making one BIG assumption:

The assumption that humanity actually stands a chance against the forces of Hell.

I realize much of this is probably due to the last twenty some-odd years of ‘America Humanity, Fuck Yeah!’ stories with humans beating back hordes of demons/aliens/zombies/etc. with grit, moxie and big guns leading some people to assume that the forces of America Humanity MUST be able to pose some major threat to Hell now that they KNOW that Hell exists.

But let’s take a step back and actually consider the track record we’ve seen of the ‘elite’ of humanity against the forces of Hell:

In their first encounter with the forces of Hell, D.H.O.R.K.S. had an entire facility SLAUGHTERED by three imps and a hellhound.

Then in their second appearance, with over a year of preparation and research and the full support and funding of the American government (they weren’t even hiding that one XD) to create THE most advanced and capable anti-demon weaponry human science can devise, which also ended up being wielded by actual ANGELS, just how well did this might of humanity perform?

It got trashed by TWO imps and a hellhound.

Seriously, outside of the one time when they got briefly blindsided by a redneck family thanks to like some inexperience and Moxxie fucking up, I.M.P. have been utterly wasting any humans in their way.

And let’s not forget that the ‘imps and a hellhound’ bit. Sure, Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie have shown themselves to be fairly capable fighters by Hell’s standards, but they aren’t exactly truly exceptional standouts. Plus they’re still, you know, imps. They’re kind of the definition of an ‘everyman’ in Hell.

And ‘the most bleeding edge military advancements’, wielded by angels might you, couldn’t even beat that.

So yeah, I’d say that even if they don’t realize it yet, humanity in the Hellaverse is massively, terrifyingly, HILARIOUSLY outmatched against the forces of Hell.

As in, if the D.H.O.R.K.S. ever manage to get that portal of theirs big enough to send an actual army into Hell, then I think it’s safe to assume that army is going to immediately fucking DIE. Like they portal into Wrath and just get casually ripped to pieces by Millie’s family and their farmhands.  

And that’s if they get lucky and don’t manage to annoy any Goetia or one of the Sins.

All in all, I’m pretty confident that D.H.O.R.K.S. plus the cherubs are going to remain firmly in the position of ‘comic-relief villains’. With any actual threat they bring to our heroes being some indirect result of their actions, rather than anything D.H.O.R.K.S. actually does. Such as the fallout of their shenanigans getting I.M.P. in trouble with the higher-up of Hell. Or the messes they’ve caused being used as ammo by Stella and Andrealphus to smear and discredit Stolas.

And personally, I just think that’s more fun and fitting, you know?

Like after a couple decades of those aforementioned ‘America Humanity, Fuck Yeah!’ stories, I think it’s rather refreshing that in a show set in Hell all about demons, we’d see that trope flipped back to humanity not actually standing a fucking chance whatsoever against the denizens of hell.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I blocked my Zionist

“”friend”” after she gave condolences for my dog?

Content warnings: pet death, Zionism, genocide mentions

Hi. I’ll try to keep this brief and cohesive. So for some background, I (24F) gave this “friend” from middle school, let’s call her E (24F). We were best friends, but she moved away about halfway through our time in high school. She was from Israel, and not being as informed as I am now, I never thought that much of it. When she moved away, we stayed mutuals on social media, but didn’t chat much. She’d hit me up sometimes, usually after months would go by, and we’d chat a bit, but it would normally end with her disappearing again, and we both just went on with our lives.

Between 2021-2023, I ended up losing a lot of people. Falling outs, rifts, drama etc. Needless to say I don’t have many friends rn. So when she hit me up again at the beginning of 2023 and then later that summer (more consistency then usual), I was excited to reconnect with her. Then, Israel began it’s current violence and genocide in Gaza. Since the beginning of the violence, I took the time to learn more (and am still learning) about the injustices inflicted on the Palestinians by Israel for the past 75 years, and have kept up with Palestinian journalists like Motaz and Bisan on the current aggression that’s been taking place for the past 100 DAYS.

Now remember when I said E was Israeli? Yeaaa, and I brutally reminded of that. She was eating up and regurgitating the lies from Israel on her Instagram stories, blaming Hamas for everything etc. Meanwhile the rest of my feed was of horrific on the ground footage of innocent Palestinians being slaughtered simply for being Palestinian and for living on their land. I believe in the cause for a Free Palestine and an end to the Israeli occupation, and I resolved that a Zionist is not who I want to be friends with, and that I would unfollow E and cut contact.

But this is where I fucked up and am an AH - I stalled. I just restricted her and kept telling myself “I’ll get to it.” I’ll admit the nostalgia of our bond we used to have got the better of me, and I was taking my time cutting the contact cuz I was upset that I have to cut my losses with a connection AGAIN. So I stalled. And kept stalling.

Now this past weekend, my dog passed away. I posted a memorial post to my Instagram, and saw E commented her condolences. Which was nice, but I feel icky taking the sympathy from a Zionist, from someone who does not have sympathy for the lives of the innocent Palestinian men, women, and children being lost in Gaza. And most likely never will.

Since she’s restricted, I don’t think her comment is public. And I don’t want to accept it. Accepting it and responding would call all my support for the Palestinian cause into question. Hell, the fact that I stalled unfollowing her so long calls it into question already, I know that. But I also can’t ignore her forever.

So now comes the time to do what I should of done months ago. I have to unfollow her and block her. But a part of me still feels bad doing after she had sweet things to say about my late pet. I KNOW I’m already the AH for not unfollowing her already, but my query is, WIBTA to do so now after she offered her condolences, and to block her on top of that?

What are these acronyms?

[ickyarson777]

Ooooh requests! I have one! I am dying for gamer boyfriend iii. Maybe playing games with him? Or just snuggling up with him, playing with his hair, while he slaughters digital zombies? XD Whatever you think!

GODS YES PLEASE

ahem anyway, of course love i can definitely do that for you! and thanks for the request! i hope it lives up to your expectations!!

content warnings: none!! just fluff and games today. tried to stay as gn with the reader as i could. only things used for them is 'love,' and 'lovely.'

notes before we start, this is about *not* about the actual people in the band, just the characters they’ve created on stage.

that being said, here you go! it's a bit short, wish it was longer but this was fun to write :)

Word count: 843

I curled up in bed, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, glancing every now and then at III, back facing me as he played his game. Since he’d downloaded Skyrim, he’d been playing it every chance he got. He talked a lot while playing, so I now had my own fair share of knowledge about the game.

“These damned draugr,” he’d mutter every now and then. “Fuck, dragon’s gonna eat my ass!” he’d groan as his character got snatched up. 

He was never one to scream angrily while playing, something I appreciated. He would, however, get very worked up, shaking me around and celebrating when he finally would pass a section of the game that was giving him trouble.

He’d lean over, ask if I saw how many times he’d died trying to pass that specific section, I’d tell him, laughing, ‘yes, I did see you die over and over, you sure you didn’t do it on purpose?’ He’d gasp in mock offense, ‘Seriously love? You think I’d willingly get fucked over by that shit over and over like that?’ then he’d lean in for a kiss, something to make up for the lack of focus on me, and get right back in. 

Tonight however, we played together. He’d recently bought a Nintendo Switch, and we’d spent the past couple nights staying up playing Mario Kart. We sat next to each other, leaning forward on our knees, deeply focused on the race. I’d hit him with a shell, he’d throw a banana peel. Each time I overtook him, or vice versa, the other would cry out in both frustration, laughter, or an attempt to rile the other up. Eventually after we’d played for a few hours, we’d lose count of the score and take a break to go get some snacks from the kitchen. After making our way back to the room, arms full of snacks and drinks, we’d lay back in the bed and he’d talk my ears off about anything and everything he could think of. 

“There’s a new Zelda game that came out, a sequel to Breath of the Wild! Supposed to have two whole new maps and shit,” he’d tell me, running his fingers through his long hair. “Can’t wait to play it.” 

I smile at him and yawn softly. 

“Getting tired, love? Or tired of losing Mario Kart,” he said with a stupid smirk. 

I scoff at his question, “You’d like to think I was losing wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles at me, “Of course I think that, ‘cause it's the truth.”

“Whatever,” I say , rolling my eyes. I lean back in the bed and slip under the covers. “Think I’m done for the night.”

He sighs dramatically, “Guess we’ll have to settle our score tomorrow then.”

“Mhmm,” I hum in agreement. I watch him as he picks the controller up again, and closes the game. He turns the tv down a bit, and opens Skyrim again. I watch through eyes fluttering, trying to stay awake a bit longer as he begins his in-game trek across the map, trying to reach new locations, every now and then stopping to fight some monster, creature or enemy in his path. Carefully, I nudge him with my foot and he glances back at me. 

“What’s up, love?” he asks.

I hold my arms out to him, wanting to cuddle up to him. He smiles at my gesture and crawls across the bed, leaning back against me, head on my chest, still facing the screen. I kiss the top of his head, and run my fingers through his hair, and listen to him talk. He’s always so loud, but now he mutters queitly to himself, perhaps trying to mind my tiredness, perhaps feeling his own tiredness start to take over. 

“Love you,” I murmur sleepily into his mess of red hair. 

“Love you too, lovely,” he mutters and then exclaims loudly, “Motherfucking dragons!”

“III,” I groan, having been snapped out of my almost sleep. 

He chuckles, “Sorry love.”

I smile, taking strands of his hair and braiding them carefully. “It’s ok,” I tell him. “What are you doing in the game?”

And then it begins again, his nonstop talk about the game. Eventually his accent gets thicker with sleep creeping into his voice, and I have no idea what he’s saying anymore. I drift off into my own slumber.

At some point, he’s gotten off the game and shifted to lie next to me, because the next morning, I wake up to him, arms lazily wrapped around me, mouth hanging wide open, soft snores excaping his mouth. I smile at his goofy expression, his messy hair tangles and spread over his pillow, over his face. The quiet moments with III are rare. Odd but not uncomfortable. 

I curl up next to him, and drift off to sleep again, knowing the moment we both wake up, its back to the games again.

‘Gonna need my rest if I’m gonna beat his ass at Mario Kart,’ is the last thing I think before drifting off again. 

---

how do you end stuff like this :')

anyway pls y'all give me more

[her-satanic-wiles]

Dawn Chorus - X

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 7.2k.

Reading Time: 29 min.

Warnings: blood drinking, brief comparison to addiction, consensual non-consent, creampie, degradation, knife play, mild fear play, moderately painful sex, PTSD (a bit), restraint, ritual sex, slut shaming, unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976

🔞 MDNI 🔞

You felt scared. While you knew that Copia wouldn’t hurt you, at least, not anything you didn’t agree to, you couldn’t help but notice your surroundings. The Devil and his bride’s cold eyes watching the scene play out, boring into your soul as if they knew your deepest, darkest secrets. The red pentagram on the floor, which stood out against the black and white chequerboard of the Basilica floor, haunting… threatening. A promise that you wouldn’t leave this sacred space without being fundamentally changed first. There was still a voice in the back of your head that asked you, what if? What if Copia taking your purity the other day turned out to not be the correct thing to do? What if the ritual worked?

Besides the fear, the pentagram, and the statue, you were surrounded by ghouls to the point where they formed a perfect circle around the ritual site. Their eyes were hidden beneath their masks, most of them anyway, but even so, you could tell they were watching you - anticipating your move like an animal drawn to the slaughter about to make her final escape attempt.

And then there was Imperator. Blonde hair pushed back into a tight bun, hazel eyes trained solely on you with a darkness to them that unsettled you. A shiver travelled down your spine as you felt the weight of her gaze on you, never relenting, never giving you respite. That same weighty book sat in her hands, open to a page where the rite would be read by her, methodically following instructions down to each dot and every crossbar.

You stopped fighting Copia to take it all in, your heart racing and your eyes darting from ghoul to ghoul until eventually, the Sister’s voice broke the silence. “Now, are we ready?”

“Yes,” Copia said, his voice just as dark as hers.

“In your positions, then.”

Copia tugged on the chain he was holding and pulled you towards him, your chests flush and your flushed face trained onto his. He removed his hand from the chain and placed both of them on your biceps, tightly holding you in place. “Are you going to behave for me, Angel?” he asked, a taunting edge to his voice that stabbed your heart.

It was the same tone he’d used with you before… before the gentility, before the touches and the pleasure… before you became more than just a plaything to him. His gaze upon you was just as cold and sadistic as it was when he first met you, too. You couldn’t help but wonder, had anything changed at all? Did he actually care about you like he seemed he did? Did he prioritise your pleasure and well-being because he was genuinely sorry for his actions? Or was he playing you - turning you into a guitar to strum alongside the beat of his rhythm to add to his hellish ensemble? Was all of this just simply a ruse to get what he wanted, your well-being be damned, the destruction of your purity a mere obstacle to overcome in his grand, evil plan?

“Let go of me!” you ordered, protesting him violently again once you’d found your courage. You began to try and shake free from his grip, but his fingers had dug into your flesh too tightly for your escape to be possible.

“I thought we’d got over this, Angel,” he taunted. “I thought you were my obedient little whore now.”

Your blood ran cold. Could he hear your thoughts?

“I will never be yours,” you hissed. “You are delusional if you think otherwise.”

“Delusional, you say?” He laughed. “Then why do you keep coming back to me, begging for more?” He leaned forward and levelled his mouth to your ear. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he continued, “You can’t resist, and we both know it.” He backed away. “We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way, Angel. Your choice.”

You managed to wriggle free of his grasp, and tried to swing your hands at his face, despite the fact that they were still tied together. Of course, you couldn’t move quick enough, and he grabbed hold of your wrists easily and pushed them down to your waist. “The hard way, then.”

He reached round to the back pocket of his jeans and pulled something out of it, bringing it quickly to your throat. You felt it, the cold, sharp metal of a switch blade you had no idea he’d brought with him. You remembered him telling you that he had to be cruel to make it believable - was this what he meant?

You gasped, your chest rising and falling quickly with the exertions of your breath. He pressed the blade into your skin, enough to knick it should you move at all. You had no choice now but to remain perfectly still, otherwise tragedy could strike. Unexpectedly, your body reacted in a different way. Heat pooled in your core as you felt the sharp edge against your throat. Your stomach flipped at the darkness in which Copia was looking at you. After already feeling him inside you, the gentility of the act from before, to now the viscousness on display, there was something inside you that felt excited for the ritual now - pleasure by force, even if it was all just an act in the end. You clenched your thighs together in hopes of stopping the wetness from spilling out of you, but you wondered if Imperator could smell it just as you knew Copia could. Would she be able to tell?

“Cardinal,” the Sister said from behind him. Your eyes flickered to her. “Are you going to play with her all day, or are we going to get on with this?”

He turned you around and pushed you into the centre of the pentagram before looking at his ghouls. “Chains,” he commanded, his voice much more authoritative than it had been before. Three ghouls came up behind you. You felt one of them undoing the chains of your wings while the other two held onto each wing to stop you from flapping away and attempting escape. You would have fought them, but with Copia’s knife still to your throat there was no way you could without getting yourself hurt. Each ghoul that had held your wings now spread them out fully. You felt two separate chains get wrapped around each one, and once they were tied, Copia lowered you to the floor so that you would be trapped there beneath him. He removed the knife from you and backed away, allowing his ghouls to take your arms and legs and spread them out too, tying you down to… well, something nearby, until you were completely trapped and at his mercy. You tried to pull at the chains, but thanks to that knife, the only opportunity to escape came and went before you had chance to truly seize it.

“She needs to be naked, Cardinal,” Imperator instructed, her eyes reading from the book. “You should have removed her robes first.”

“Well, the ritual will have to make do with her clothed,” Copia snapped. “There’s nothing to be done now.”

“You have a knife, don’t you?”

Copia stopped for a second, looking at you with unreadable eyes. “Sister, we’re in a room filled with people… her dignity… she’s already-”

“I couldn’t care less,” the Sister snapped. “We have to follow the instructions down to the last detail or the ritual won’t work. Are you trying to sabotage us, Cardinal?”

“No, but-”

“Then use that knife!”

Copia sighed and knelt down in between your legs. He reached up and gripped hold of your robe’s bodice, fingers skimming over the skin of your breasts. He dug the knife into the fabric and cut downwards, the sound of the fabric tearing filling the Basilica, echoing off the marble. You could feel the point of the blade lightly skimming over your stomach, nowhere near deep enough to draw blood but enough to remind you that he could; that he had a weapon in his hands and he was going to use it to defile you more. The thought alone caused slick to appear between your legs.

Once your robes were cut in half, Copia pushed the loose flaps off your body, exposing you to the room - something else that shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. You were embarrassed and vulnerable, in a room filled with people who could put you in danger at a moment’s notice… but that was also precisely what made it so hot; you were totally at the mercy of the enemy, and you’d already experienced how good that felt before.

But this amount of exposure wasn’t good enough for the Sister. “Her straps, too,” she commanded, observing every detail.

Copia rolled his eyes and sliced through the fabric of your straps, pulling your completely destroyed and irreparable attire out from underneath you. Your bare back was flush against the marble flooring, causing you to whine at the cold feeling beneath you. It was that temperature change that made your nipples harden… at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

The Sister looked at her book and began to read from it. “In nomine…” Latin… she was speaking Latin. “In the name of darkness and shadow, we summon the powers of hell. Let this divine light be corrupted, and all holiness be reduced to dust…”

Copia undid his trouser buttons and released himself from his jeans… not even half hard yet. He looked at you and for the first time you could see a little panic in his eyes. If he wasn’t the one to complete this ritual, someone else would take his place. He wandered his eyes over your body, staring at your cunt in the process and biting his lip at just how wet you’d become since the start. He ran his gloved hand over your slit and gathered your slick swiping it against his tongue - apparently, that was enough to get him fully prepared.

“Abandoned sacraments, symbols of holiness, now sink into obscurity. The divinity of the angel, devoured by darkness, is soon changed into a demon under Your guiding light, oh Dark One…”

He lined himself up to your entrance and sank all the way in, and you noted that he was going slowly, to not hurt you any more than he was already. You screamed out in pain, a little more exaggerated than what you were actually feeling for the Sister’s benefit, but even so it still hurt you. Your walls stretched around his girth with no preparation, just the wetness your body had produced despite the situation.

You couldn’t help but notice Copia’s features, tightly screwed up at the feeling of being completely buried inside you. You may have been hurt, but he felt so good. His bottom lip trapped beneath his teeth to stop himself from calling out and keep his head in the moment. You knew from the last time you were joined like this, that he could so quickly lose control inside of you and right now that would be the worst possible option.

He put the knife to your throat again, and leaned down over you, keeping his mouth to your ear. “I care for you, and I need you to remember that,” he whispered. “Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

He moved back, hovering above you as he began to thrust in and out of you, a relentless pace being set at the get go. You cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure in your voice with each hit of your cervix by the head of his cock. You’d have given anything to run your fingernails over his back, the overwhelming feeling of being fucked proving too much already, and you were only at the start.

The Sister’s voice grew louder as she continued speaking, distracting you from what was going on briefly with Copia’s cock deep inside you. “Let the shadows come and corrupt the light. Let the demons come and invade the body, let your holy blood spill from your skin and make room for the darkness. Your divinity, Angel, is now reduced to nothing…” Her empty hand was raised up, and you could almost see the dark tendrils of energy swirling around her, the Hell that she brought to the mortal realm through her words and her worship alone. There was a small fear that bubbled in your stomach, your mind telling you that this was truly the end for you.

That was when you felt it, a sharp slice to your collar bone where Copia had cut into your skin, spilling your blood from beneath. His pupils were blown out as he focussed on your blood, watching it drip up your shoulder and onto the floor, merging into the red paint below you. It hurt - but you tightened.

“You l-like this, Angel?” Copia asked, hammering deep into you yet still staring at your blood. “Mmm, fuck. I thought you’d like the pain - the biggest whores do.”

“I am not a-”

“You think I can’t feel how wet you are?” He slammed into you particularly violently, making the stream of blood zigzag at the force. “How ti-ight you grip me? Fuck. Never felt someone… tighten like this when th-their blood is spilled except whores.”

You couldn’t understand how something so painful could end up feeling so good, especially when all the right parts of you were singing with pleasure now that you’d gotten used to the stretch around Copia. He bent down and ran his tongue over the blood, ingesting it after quite some time. His words were cruel, but like the physical pain, it all heightened the sensation and had you fighting back moans.

He sucked at your blood for a while before making a second cut beneath your breast, on your stomach, immediately dipping his head to suckle from that stream too. He grunted at the taste of you, but also the feeling of your cunt strangling his cock. His other hand was on your hip, keeping himself pressed flushed into you to help him fuck you as roughly as possible. The more drops of you he drank, the more intoxicated he got, too mesmerised by the blood he’d not drank for too long. He couldn’t afford to lose his mind, but there he was giving over to his base instincts, and taking from your body just as he had done before.

He sat on his knees for a moment and watched you beneath him: you looked sinful. Wings spread out majestically yet chained to the ground - a powerful beast of Heaven resorted to a mere toy for him to fuck in his unhallowed place of worship. Your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts, body jiggling with the force of him using your body as he pleased, and as his Dark Lord had ordered. Your blood, now spilling from two cuts, dripping off your body like a crimson stream that pooled and gathered within the pentagram below. He wasn’t sure if it was the effect of your blood taking hold, but he swore the red paint had a glow to it, as though the ritual was actually working. Even so, you looked delectable, perfectly edible. And he quite simply couldn’t get enough.

“This cunt,” he panted, bucking into you while saying each word. “Sathanas - feels so fucking good!”

He ran the knife between the valley of your breasts, lightly pressing the metal into your skin. He pulled it down over the expanse of your stomach, tracing it in curved lines until he reached your groin, moving over to your pubic mound. You clenched again, anticipating a nick but nothing came. What was wrong with you today? Why was all of this turning you on so much?

“Filthy slut,” he hissed.

“I-it,” you stuttered. You tried to talk but it was difficult enough to breathe, let alone vocalise what you were feeling. “It’s t-too mu-ah! Much!”

“It isn’t for me.”

He gripped tightly onto your hip and picked up the pace, knife running against your bare skin just as a threat more so than anything else. You were so helpless beneath him and he loved it, blood pumping through your veins, a small hint of fear mixing with your arousal, the sound of your heartbeat rising. The tightening of your hole as he did the most heinous shit to your body and you accepted it willingly, despite being told to fight against him in the first place. This accompanied by the taste of your blood on his tongue, and warming his own insides. He wasn’t the man he used to be, the man who took your virginity. He was barely in control of himself. He was feral, desperate - more so than you. And he couldn’t stop himself. It felt too good - you felt too good.

“You’re g-gonna think about this later, aren’t you?” he muttered, mostly to himself but directed at you. “T-Touch yourself thinking about me d-defiling you, taking any in-innocence that was left. F-Fucking hell. It’s always the good girls who f-follow the rules that like the f-filthiest f-fuck, huh? I w-wonder what else you’d let me get away with.”

The more he spoke, the darker his voice became, until eventually he was practically growling at you. He bent down, hovering his body over yours until he was face-to-face with you, and put the knife to your throat, exactly where the scars to his very first bite mark was, and thought for a moment. “My teeth, or my knife?”

“N-neither,” you moaned slightly.

“My teeth… or my fucking knife.”

“You-your teeth.”

“From the sacred lands, from the divine books, all sanctity is now turned into night. The symbols of purity are perverted, and she is transformed into a demon…”

He threw the knife away, and you watched it slide across the marble and skid to a halt right before a ghoul’s boot. Copia hissed, a sound you hadn’t heard from him before, yet that sound stopped when his fangs penetrated your neck, piercing your skin and allowing yet more blood to escape you into his mouth. He grunted, groaned, made the most sinful noises that had your core screaming to cum. The feeling of his jeans roughly hitting your clit was sure to send you over the edge eventually. You just needed the extra push. And Copia’s tongue laving over your sensitive neck to suck up the blood may have been it. Or his shirt’s fabric rubbing against your nipples every time he thrusted into you and made your body jiggle against him… you couldn’t be sure. But, you came.

At first, you didn’t anticipate it. The last time he was inside you, and all the times he’d touched you before, there was a warning before you hit your orgasm. But this time? Nothing. No build up to the sensitivity, no tingling. It was as though you’d been hit by a bus. The sharp wave of it rushing over you, making you scream out as it hit, tugging against your chains and writhing beneath Copia, who was damn near oblivious to your pleasure. “Oh, God!” you screamed, your body convulsing as much as Copia’s weight would allow.

Copia popped off your neck temporarily. “He can’t help you now, Angel.”

“Into eternal darkness, into perpetual shadows, let all light now be extinguished. Through this desecration, you, Angel, will be one step closer to demonic life!”

The familiar blackness began to creep into the edges of your vision, slowly encroaching like a gathering storm. It built up gradually, consuming the details of the room around you. The ornate symbols and dim candlelight blurred, then vanished entirely, leaving your eyes all but useless in the engulfing void.

Sounds that once filled the air around you—Copia’s laboured breathing, the sinister chants of Sister Imperator, the crackling of distant flames—began to distort. They grew hollow and echoed unnaturally, as if you were sinking into a deep abyss. Each echo stretched out longer and longer, until finally, they faded into an oppressive silence where there was nothing left to hear.

The last thing you remembered was the intense sensation of Copia’s body against yours, his movements erratic and desperate. You felt the heat and pressure of his final thrusts, the way his grip tightened possessively on your hips. The sensation of his cum flooding into your cunt was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the growing numbness spreading through your limbs.

As Copia emptied himself inside you, you sensed his dark satisfaction, heard his groans of pleasure mingling with your own fading consciousness. His last, deep thrusts seemed to drink in every part of you, his body shuddering in ecstasy.

Then, the numbness began to take over completely. It started as a gentle tingling in your extremities, quickly turning to a heavy, inescapable sensation that spread inward. Your body grew cold and distant, disconnected from your mind. The world around you dimmed, the Basilica and its cruel occupants vanishing into the impeding darkness.

Finally, your mind surrendered to the void. All thoughts, all sensations were swallowed by the blackness, and the last fleeting image was of Copia’s triumphant gaze, blurred and distant, mouth surrounded by your blood, as the world around you faded to black.

Your mind stirred into consciousness before your eyes fluttered open. For a few disorienting moments, you didn’t know where you were. The last thing you remembered was the floor of the Basilica and how cold it was. Yet, you felt a surprising warmth and comfort, despite the dull throbbing in your head and the stinging pain in your wrists and ankles where the ritual chains had rubbed against your flesh.

When you finally opened your eyes, you found yourself enveloped by the familiar confines of Copia’s bedroom. The luxurious sheets cocooned you in a soft embrace, their texture gentle against your damaged skin. Your wings were sprawled out across the entire mattress, their span emphasising the considerable size of the bed, even if half of them hung off the sides.

Your gaze travelled to the foot of the bed, where Copia was slumped in the same armchair he had occupied the first time he realised he could control you by holding your halo. He was fast asleep, his body draped over the chair like a carelessly discarded blanket. His mouth hung open slightly, and soft snores escaped from his parted lips, adding an oddly domestic soundtrack to the scene.

As you attempted to sit up, a sharp pain flared from your cuts, pulling a wince from your lips. Instinctively, you ran your hands over your body, seeking the source of the discomfort. To your surprise, you discovered that you had been dressed in a new robe. This one was black, closely resembling the habit of a Sister of Sin with the back cut out to make room for your protruding wings. Beneath the robe, you could feel the rough texture of bandages—evidence that your wounds had been tended to. Even your neck, which bore the mark of Copia’s eager bite, had been carefully dressed.

The memory of what had happened during the ritual began to flood back, and with it, a rush of emotions and physical responses. Your body reacted involuntarily to the thought of Copia’s hands on you, his mouth claiming your flesh. The sensation was visceral, stirring something deep within you.

You glanced back at Copia, his form still and peaceful in slumber, a stark contrast to the intensity of the ritual. The juxtaposition was almost jarring. Here was the man who had orchestrated your torment, now appearing as harmless as a child lost in a dream. The sight was strangely comforting, yet it did nothing to quell the tumultuous feelings roiling inside you.

You were still weak, a little too weak to get up and out of bed at that stage. But it didn’t matter, Copia’s eyes had opened not too long after yours. He blinked a few times, then his gaze focused on you, a slow, almost lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. “How are you feeling, my dear Angel?” He straightened in his chair, stretching slightly, genuine concern evident in his eyes. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever wake,” he continued, his tone taking on a more fearful sound when he was met with silence from you, and not the open armed welcome he expected. “The ritual took quite a toll on you, it seems.”

“The amount of blood I lost, I thought you were extracting it from me again,” you commented, bitter and bruised from his getting carried away.

Copia chuckled softly, the sound low and almost tender. “I must admit, I did get a bit carried away,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “But you survived, didn’t you? And here you are, looking more… intriguing than ever.”

He leaned forward in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’re stronger than you think, Angel. Enduring everything I put you through… it only proves how resilient you are.”

“What good is resilience when you… you acted the same way you did when I first arrived. You were cruel… evil. I did not wish to see that again.”

“Angel,” he sighed. He stood up and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge. He tried to find your hand, but you pulled it under the comforter. “I told you I’d have to be. She needed to believe it.”

“You enjoyed yourself.” Your tone was accusing. You found it difficult to look him in the eye.

“So did you. You felt good, too. I could tell.”

Your eyes narrowed, a mixture of anger and something else simmering beneath the surface. “Feeling good doesn’t make it right,” you retorted, your voice trembling slightly. “It doesn’t change what you did.”

Copia’s expression softened, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I know,” he said quietly. “But in that moment, it was necessary. If Imperator had seen any weakness, any hesitation, she would have known something was amiss. Everything we’ve done would have been for nothing.”

He leaned closer, his gaze intense. “I need you to understand, Angel. This isn’t just about pleasure or pain. It’s about survival. Both yours and mine.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushing it away. “But at what cost?” you whispered.

Copia’s hand hovered over yours, hesitant, then gently rested atop the comforter covering your hand. “At whatever cost it takes to keep you safe,” he said softly. “I promise you, Angel, this isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning. And I will do whatever it takes to see us through this.”

You looked at him then, truly looked at him, and saw the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. It was a side of him you hadn’t seen before, and it stirred something within you—a fragile hope amidst the chaos. You let him take your hand this time when he searched for it.

“Just… don’t forget who I am,” you murmured, your voice almost a plea.

“Never,” Copia replied, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re far too important to me for that.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed the soft skin.

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of your shared experiences hanging heavily in the air.

You were bed-ridden for days after, your body too tired to fight. You’d been a long time without your halo again, and you weren’t healing as quickly as you should have. Copia never pressured you into sex again, and resolved to wait for you to come to him. But you didn’t - and you weren’t sure if you ever could. Seeing him during the ritual brought back all those feelings from before, but this time more conflicting. Because you felt something for him, but you’d been reminded of the past, and that wasn’t healing as well as you thought it had either.

For the first time since you arrived, Copia was at your side through your entire recovery. It was almost as if he knew that you were questioning his actions, or perhaps worse: him. He’d arranged everything for you, any meals you may have wanted he anticipated and had one of his ghouls bring it up to you, he fluffed your pillows himself, as well as changed your wound’s dressings himself, despite the smell of your blood still lingering in the air. His touches were always soft, words always tender, and demeanour always gentle, trying to convince you that the ritual was a one off unless you asked for that kind of treatment again.

He’d warned you, you consented, and it felt obnoxiously good in the end, but you still couldn’t help the feeling of unease that washed over you. You couldn’t help the way your stomach dropped at the sight of his dark eyes staring at you, how his mouth was attached to your body, lapping up your blood like you were still his personal blood bank. Is that all you’d ever be to him? Would you always be nothing more than the pet he could take whatever he wanted from whenever he wanted it? Were you always second rate to him?

Or did he even care about you at all? Was this kindness actual kindness, or manipulation? You couldn’t make a decision, and you couldn’t ask him.

Clarity came in the form of a stroll around the Ministry’s gardens during one sunny day when you’d almost entirely recovered. It had been so long since you felt the warmth of the Sun on your skin, the smell of the flowers in bloom and the insects pollinating and going about their own business. You’d lived during the night more and more because that was Copia’s schedule, but slipping away from him and his ghouls was easy enough. You needed a break, some respite from the chaos that was the Cardinal and his life, and this was perfect.

Your mind cast itself back to when you first came out here to fly and stretch your wings, and just how much of a tragedy that whole situation became in the end. That ghoul was fine now, nary a scar on him thanks to the Ministry’s medical team and their knowledge of demonkind. It was as if nothing had happened. Yet you still felt guilty for it.

Memories began filtering through your defences of Brother Thomas, and the look in his eyes when Copia had come home early. The last time you saw him was when he climbed beneath the bed and tried to hide from the vampyre who took delight in torturing you and tormenting you. You hadn’t heard from him since. There were no letters waiting for you at the start of every night, no phone calls to be passed on… nothing. It was as if you didn’t exist to him and that thought had saddened you the most. Sure, you had Aurora now, but it wasn’t the same as your first friend. You couldn’t get attached to her in the same way as Brother Thomas.

You wondered if Brother Thomas was alive as Copia had promised… if he was in America somewhere or if Copia had lied to you. Copia’s lies grew and grew with each day, especially back then… it would have been easy to lie. You had no proof either way, and that was also a terrifying thought.

All the negativity swirling around your head would drive you insane. This distrust was something you’d only ever experienced with the Almighty, and how He’d keep secrets from you to have to do His bidding. Had you really gone from one master to another, both ends of the religious spectrum yet both using you to get to their own personal goals?

The Cardinal had seemed so kind, too… after all that had transpired. He was soft, and gentle… mostly. He respected you in a way that Heaven hadn’t. He showed you a new kind of living that you never would have experienced beyond your celestial borders. Could he really be capable of such treatment again? To have you go from how close you were to the very start of your… relationship all over again? You couldn’t fathom it. You didn’t want to.

You stayed out all day, contemplating your life and your future, only heading back when dusk had fallen and you knew the Cardinal wouldn’t be there.

Arriving back to the apartment, nothing appeared off at first. Everything looked to be in perfect order, exactly how you’d left it. You removed your shoes and wandered over to the bookshelf to find a book to read only to remember that you had a new one in the bedroom that you’d borrowed from the library. You opened the door and began to search for it with your eyes only when you saw it.

The cage that held your halo was unlocked and the door had been left open.

You froze in your space, your grip tightening on the door handle. He never would have done this purposefully, surely? This gave you too much power. You could reach in and take it… you could leave at a moment’s notice and he’d never suspect a thing until it was too late. You should walk away, go and find him and tell him that he’d left it open and that he should close it again.

Yet you walked towards the cage. Your feet were moving you of their own accord, pulling you faster and faster towards the cage until eventually you were there, as close as you could physically be without harming yourself. You could feel the heat of the hellfire emanating from the forged metal, that was how close your skin was to utter disaster.

You could just reach in and grab it.

You could just reach in and grab it.

Nothing was stopping you.

No one was there to stop you.

You reached into the cage, breaths quickening from nerves but also the power your halo held, much purer than your body now. Your hand moved down, a finger barely skimming the surface when you felt an electric current pulse into your body from the halo, not recognising you at first. Two demonic trials and an attempted third, plus months of sin. Your halo hurt you for the first time ever. Getting it into your hands was more painful than last time, but eventually you stood there, in front of the cage, halo in the palms of your hands and holding it delicately like you were about to smash it.

Copia found you like that, eyes trained on the glowing light cradled in your fingers. You looked terrified yet desperate. Your body was sweating, your chest heaving with irregular and shallow breaths. You looked like an addict resisting temptation to relapse.

“Angel?” he asked, softly.

You snapped your gaze up at him, pupils blown and eyes widened.

He stepped cautiously into the room, holding his hands out to show you he meant no harm. “Angel, come back to me,” he requested, regarding you warily.

Once you’d got used to the pure holy light again, your mind regained some clarity. Enough for you to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

“Th-the door was open,” you said. Your mouth felt dry, as though your very tastebuds were the grains of sand in the Sahara.

“I know… I did it purposefully.”

“Wh-what?”

“Angel,” he took on a more serious tone, “I’m giving you your freedom back. Entirely. No strings attached. You deserved this a long time ago, I was just a little scared. I…” he exhaled a shaky breath. “I was scared that you’d leave once you got your halo back… That you wouldn’t want to stay here… with me. And while I wouldn’t blame you for leaving, I would want you to stay. I l- care… no. If I want you to stay, I have to be honest. You shouldn’t stay just for ‘care’.

“I lo…” Hesitation. “I love you. I treated you like shit before, and I’ll pay for that for the rest of our lives, I swear, but… I don’t think I could breathe if you weren’t around any more. If I didn’t wake up next to you every night and admire your sleeping face before you woke up to catch me. If I didn’t have you pottering around here with your books and questions, and fascination with humanity. You consume all of my thoughts, every single hour of the day I’m thinking of you; wondering if you’re okay, needing to be next to you because I might die if I wasn’t.”

“Imperator,” you said, unable to fully formulate a sentence.

“If you stayed, she’d have to go,” he told you, his voice firm and resolute. “She’s plagued me for 400 years, at this point. A thorn in my side since the moment she made me turn her. I was more than happy to bury her at the right time centuries ago, but that time never came. I want you. I choose you. I’m more than happy to send her to Hell where she belongs. I won’t let her hurt you again. I can’t. We could do it together… fight her together. Rule the church together.” He held out his hand for you to take. “What do you say?”

“I-” You looked back at your halo, taking your eyes away from your pleading lover momentarily to fully digest the information. Love. You’d seen many forms of it, in religious devotion, familial, romantic, sexual, platonic. Perhaps you loved the Almighty once, your angelic colleagues, the subjects of your Lord who abade his rules and spread kindness over violence. Did you love the Cardinal? You couldn’t be sure. You were infatuated, that much you knew to be true. He was a welcome respite from the pressures of Heaven, when he was good, of course. But did you love him enough to stay in Hell on Earth with him? Did you love him enough to jeopardise everything you’d worked for in the millennia you’d been alive?

God, you’d been alive so long. Too long. And it had only been in the last year or so where you truly felt as though you’d been living. Copia was the one who gave you that gift… alongside the physical, emotional, and mental scars. He was offering you freedom - freedom with him, or freedom alone.

Was this all a lie? A desperate man bearing his soul to you to get you to stay and fulfil his wishes. All the books you’d read, all the lives you’d watched, all the love you’d witnessed, all those lives had been built on mutual respect and understanding. People cared for their partners and their partner’s minds and opinions. The relationships they had weren’t solitary… inclusive of their lover’s thoughts and feelings.

Copia didn’t include yours. That declaration of love was him telling you that you’d relieve a great burden in his mind that would make him feel so much better.

He’d kill his own mother to keep you safe.

He wanted her gone anyway! Whether you helped him or not, she’d be dead before dawn. It’s an excuse.

He loves you, you should stay.

He loves how easy you are to manipulate.

A man who manipulated wouldn’t cry like that.

He would, he - he’s crying?

You looked back up at him, hearing his breaths shaking and confirming your own thoughts by the tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your mind made up.

Copia stepped to the side, freeing the doorway for you. He looked away, out the window and into the garden, using his gloves to wipe his tears away. You paid little heed to it, charging out the door and running, halo in hand and heading for the open world. As soon as you were outside, your wings stretched and you flew away. You didn’t know your destination, or what you’d find, but you needed to go.

You just kept going, tears burning your eyes and blurring your vision, forcing you to make a swift landing only a kilometre north from the Ministry.

He loved you. You left him.

It was that moment, with the distance between you, that you realised you loved him, too. That the heartbreak you were feeling wasn’t because of any betrayal you’d convinced yourself he’d done, but because you hurt him deeply. You’d cut a wound just as deep as how you felt. You had unwittingly inflicted wounds as grievous as those you nursed within yourself. It was a symphony of suffering, a duet of shattered souls, each note resonating with the raw ache of love found and lost, and lost because of you.

Perhaps if you went back, he’d forgive you. He loved you. If you told him how you felt, you could fix this. You could fix this! Hell, you could see the Ministry’s spire, you were barely off the grounds!

You spread your wings and prepared to take flight again when you felt hands on your wings. A clap of thunder sounded over you, yet no lightning followed. No rain poured from the sky.

Your heart sank. You turned to see the owner of the hands only to see… “Michael!”

“Greetings unto thee,” Michael said, a small smile on his face. “Verily, it hath been a time long in passing.”

“Let me go.” You began to struggle against the angels that held you back.

“And dost thou flee unto the shelter of Lucifer… Nay, I say unto thee, it shall not be so.”

“It has been a while, why would you concern yourself with me now?”

“For the wrath of our Lord is kindled against thee. He seeketh thy chastisement and retribution.”

“Our Lord, Michael? Or you?”

“Truth be told, I yearn for thy casting into the Abyss. Yet, only by the decree of the Almighty shall thy demise be wrought. I am but a humble servant, ready to execute the judgment for such transgression.”

You struggled more. “You could have come sooner. I was in need of a rescue when I first fell.”

“Hadst thou not the need for deliverance? Behold thee now, engulfed in sin, its stench emanating from thy defiled form. Whither hath thy purity fled?”

“I lived for myself and not for Him. I was happy.”

“Nevertheless, thou didst flee.”

“A momentary lapse. I will return.”

“Thou shalt not.”

“What?”

“Dost thou truly believe we would suffer thee to set thy foot upon that sacred ground once more, now that thy sins are laid bare? Permit thee to complete those unholy rites and become a thrall unto Satan? Place at risk all we have wrought, the Grand Design, because thou couldst not restrain thy carnal desires? Nay. Thou shalt return unto Heaven with us, and nevermore shalt thou depart.”

“You can’t do this!” you shouted, fighting against the angels harder.

You continued to fight even as the Earth got smaller and smaller beneath you until it had disappeared entirely. It was only then when you entered the Heavenly realm, you realised…

In the struggle, you’d dropped your halo.

Hello, everyone!

I just wanted to take this moment to thank you all so, so much for your support for this series. There has been so much love to come out of it and I'm so touched and honoured that you've enjoyed it enough to come back for each chapter. All your comments, art, support and everything else truly means the world to me. So thank you so much!

And thank you to the person who commissioned this fic! Thank you for your patience and for trusting me with your idea. I'm very grateful!

Here's to Kinktober!

Mel

Prev./Next

[madcapberry]

i would love to know ur dickhelena thoughts that might be controversial actually… i recently finished a bunch of huntress reading so she’s been on my mind a lot

Idk maybe the most controversial thing is how much I care about the two of them as a pair. I think their friendship is more compelling than Dick and Babs as a relationship or Helena and Babs (whatever tf you’d call what they have going on). And I just wish that we’d gotten more of Dick and Helena together, I feel like their dynamic had so much meat to it. There was so much to dig into that was never full explored. And I think leaning into it would have been good for the development of BOTH of them as characters.

I’m not saying I think they should be a couple, but it makes me sad that nobody seems to care about them as a pair. There are so many Dick Grayson fans and I feel like a large portion of them barely know who Helena is. And Helena fans generally don’t seem to give a fuck about Dick (correct me if I’m wrong, that’s just based on my observations… also fair enough). But they make such interesting foils and you could do so many different stories with the two of them and their opposing viewpoints. And it’s always more interesting than pairing Helena up with Batman because Dick and Helena actually seem to care about each other on a human level and they have this unnamable tension between them that I think works so so so well.

The dynamic I’m talking about is pretty contained to the 90s through to 2011. Dick and Helena’s dynamic in Grayson is fun but it also feels like both of them (but especially Helena) are completely different characters there. And to be completely honest I don’t know a lot about what their relationship looks like since Rebirth.

What I wanted from them was for their relationship/friendship/working partnership to get the breathing room to stretch and grow. I wanted it to be painful and sweet and difficult. I wanted their chemistry, their similarities, and their camaraderie to MEAN SOMETHING!! And it was pushed aside by people like Chuck Dixon who were very very keen on pushing Dick and Barbara as a power couple (Nothing against Babs, I absolutely adore her. Really don’t like DickBabs tho) I also think a lot of writers at the time disliked Helena so they did their best to make it seem like she meant nothing to their precious Nightwing.

I think they work better as friends than as a couple. They’re both quite uncompromising characters with core values that don’t line up. It could be interesting to explore a romantic relationship between them, but anytime that’s been done it just feels… off to me. I don’t mind the sometimes sexual aspect of their relationship, it works for me sometimes, but at other times I do think it feels a little bit forced (Devin Grayson why is Helena randomly shoving her tongue down his throat). Anyway.

Dick can’t love certain parts of her, (her willingness to kill bad people). Helena can’t love certain parts of him (his rigidity, to put it lightly). And I think what they both need is a kind of freedom they’ll never be able to find in each other. It’s crazy because both of these characters have a sort of wild and free personality at times but neither of them are free. Helena is bound by the memory of the slaughter of her family, her old mob ties, her guilt, her compassion and hatred in equal measures, her religion, Batman and Gotham. Dick is bound by his love for Bruce, the shoes he has to fill, the version of himself he needs to live up to, the version of himself Bruce imagines is real, the weight of all the people who rely on him etc.

There’s this dedication and commitment and fervor at the core of both of them and they’re both orphans and they’ve both experienced so much violence and they both have a chip on their shoulder about Batman and yet they have so much to argue over it’s GREAT!!!!

Anyways love them a lot ok byeee!

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Hancock: “The Halloween scares this year have been fun and all, but let’s not forget that the scariest thing on earth is when Dad calls your full name. If he ever does that- then know you best say your prayers and get on your knees to beg for forgiveness.”

Nick: “Mr John Hancock! Why in Sam Hill is the kitchen covered in smoke???”

Hancock: (Puts his hands in his pockets) “Chem lab gone wrong… sorry Papa Nick.”

Nick: (Jabs his finger to the person next to the ghoul) “Mr Deacon John Doe, you better not have been sneaking around last night spying on the old folks!”

Deacon: (Holds up his hands in surrender) “Hey- in my own defense, you never know who could be a big fat faker in disguise!”

Nick: “And Miss Piper Wright, how many times do I hafta tell you that posing as a Gunner with a temporary tattoo on your forehead is not a safe or even reliable way of getting the latest scoop?”

Piper: (Rubs her hands together) “Eeeeuuuuuhh… I was hoping that you would over look that…”

Jasmine: (Watching this all play out from the sidelines)

Nick: “Can’t hide from a Detective, Pipes. Especially one that cares dearly about you.”

Piper: “Aaaw… and sorry, Nicky.”

Nick: (Points to Cait next) “And you, Miss Cait.”

Cait: (Snaps her bubble gum in her mouth) “Hm?”

Nick: “I have a lot to say to you- but we’d be here all day. However, don’t think that I’ll forget this!”

Cait: (Actually shudders for once at his tone) “Okay, you rusted bucket of bolts that strangely enough I give a shit about.”

Jasmine: (Tilts her head slightly at all the drama)

Nick: (Now turns to his daughter) “Now Miss Rosalinda-Marie-Esperanza-Gloria-Pacita-Estrella-Brookes-Romero-Valentine!”

Jasmine: (Drops her hands to her side with wide eyes at her full legal name)

Hancock: “Dang baby sister- that’s quite a mouthful.”

Deacon: (Raises a brow and whistles) “Is that your name or your address?”

Jasmine: “That’s my real and full name… My family talked my mother into it… She had a big message she wanted to put in my name…”

Cait: “Most people don’t even HAVE a last name to begin with. Like myself.”

Jasmine: “I know… I know- and I have THREE last names because of Nick’s that added to my other two.”

Deacon: “Wait- so why do we call you Jasmine?”

Jasmine: “Because people used to tease me with a song, saying that one day a boy will sing it to me in order to woo me.” (Starts dancing adorably as she sings) “Rosalinda, divina mujer hermosa. Que perfumas como aroma de jazmín.”

Nick: (Crosses his arms and taps his foot) “Don’t think that you’ll get away with this just by being cute.”

Jasmine: (Puts on puppy eyes) “But Daddy, am I cute???” 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Nick: (Heavy sigh) “Very cute indeed- but also you’re a very naughty troublemaker. What the hell were you thinking when you snuck away to take on a Super Mutant camp on your own?”

Jasmine: (Looks up in thought) “I was thinking… That I would give them all a scare of the lifetime for Halloween by slaughtering them one by one in a bloodied murder bath!”

Cait: “That-a-girl lass!!!” (High-fives the teen)

Nick: “For the love of God! Don’t encourage this!”

[sepublic]

            After Thanks to Them and its whole theme of Death and Wanderers, I like how For the Future has this consistent theme of Vulnerability, Adolescence, the role of Adults, and Failure.

         Like, there’s the obvious storylines with Willow and Luz, who refuse to show vulnerability and don’t forgive themselves over failure and weakness, don’t want to accept love out of shame. There’s the resolution of people accepting others into their life, admitting they need help, instead of maintaining this isolating sense of being a powerful individual.

         Boscha? She’s deadly terrified of being vulnerable and couldn’t protect Cat and Amelia, and that’s something Kikimora can latch onto, like smelling blood in the water. She tells Boscha she can’t show weakness around her fellow students and must be an iron-fisted dictator to compensate, while also acting as the toxic adult that Boscha craves guidance from.

         The Collector? Perhaps our most vulnerable antagonist of all, sure he has the most godlike power, but the episode repeatedly emphasizes that he’s still a kid. A scared, lonely kid who doesn’t want to be left by himself and even meekly asks for the companionship of a plush to protect him. A kid VERY vulnerable and open to the threat of Belos, who creeps into his bedroom when he’s asleep, and then manipulates the child as a puppet. He’s been failed by the adult Collectors in his life, who slaughtered potential Titan friends, as well as by King’s dad, who imprisoned him.

         Even Belos himself counts; This is easily the most vulnerable we’ve ever seen Belos, his lowest point. Sure he was but a mere drop between Seasons 2 and 3, but here we really get to see just how much this dude is suffering, how much his body is falling apart. Turns out he CAN’T fully recover like we’d feared, his limbs are trailing behind Philip, eventually tearing off.

         We see exposed bone, we see how Belos struggles and how he’s haunted by visions of Caleb and the Grimwalkers he killed, it’s a rather humane depiction of his grief. Belos isn’t sound neither physically nor mentally, which is a far contrast to how he’s usually been depicted, cool and collected and always with a plan. Belos is free-styling here and making up stuff as he goes along, and while he’s pretty good at it, he’s clearly at the end of his rope here in regards to his plans, with four hundred years building up to the Day of Unity wasted by an eavesdropping assistant with a grudge.

         Likewise we have Hunter; He is traumatized by the loss of Flapjack, so he builds up a wall of aggression directed at his abuser in order to cope and feel less helpless. He NEEDS to feel in control and like he’s doing something, like he has agency and is enacting power against another, but that just isolates him from the others. It concerns Willow, and Hunter’s own walls merely encourage hers as well.

         When Hunter reiterates to Willow and Gus how much they mean to him? He’s lowering his defenses, admitting vulnerability. Admitting he’s scared and he isn’t the macho, aggressive hero out to avenge his best friend that he was pretending to be. He needs help, he NEEDS Willow and Gus. And he cares, deeply. As does Willow, who conceals herself in an armor of thorns in denial of her pain, afraid it’s a betrayal of her growth into a stronger person.

         Camila too! Camila is trying not to show how scared and freaked out she is by the Boiling Isles, because she needs to be a strong parent for Luz. She feels that she has failed Luz (who’s trying to be mature in looking after her mom), so Camila has to make up for it by being the supportive mother she needs, even trying to engage in combat with Kikimora, only to be endangered in the process. But in the end, Camila supports Luz not by being the tough and implacable adult who hides everything and worries Luz to no end as Eda did…

         No, it comes from Camila admitting that she too has made mistakes. That she’s struggled and tripped and stumbled, just as Luz has. And this confession of her own vulnerability inspires Luz, because she realizes her mother DOES truly relate to and understand her pain. And knowing that her mom can overcome this, gives Luz the hope to do the same for herself, and realize she’s not isolated; She can share her vulnerabilities with someone!

         Plus the running parallels of the Collector and the students at Hexside being chaotic and dangerous, but ultimately… they’re also vulnerable, they need help. They need an adult or someone to look after them, someone to rely on, and without that things just fall apart. The episode ends with the Collector feeling deeply betrayed and hurt, used, all over again, so he begins to retaliate with genuine anger this time. Boscha admits her need for Amity, and ultimately accepts that she needs help and allows the other students to work with her in taking down Kikimora.  

         Belos? Fundamentally a scared child who lost Caleb, the person who looked after him. His precious caretaker, and his entire crusade against witches, the grimwalkers, are all an extension of Belos not wanting to admit how scared and lonely he is. Willow sobbing as she admits she misses her dads, it’s an admittance that all these kids are still kids.

        Sure, there’s the power fantasy of kids being able to have agency and do something, but TOH also reminds us that it’s nice and necessary to have someone to rely on and look after you; Being able to obliterate any enemy doesn’t feel like much if you don’t have any friends, if whatever adults you do allow are toxic, like Terra or Odalia. Hence the running theme of adults who DO understand and care and ultimately come around (be it Camila or the veneration of Bump, Eda and Lilith consoling King), as well as that search for a place of belonging.

        And it makes sense. The empowerment of these types of stories, where the kids conquer the big villains? Find a family they can truly call as such? It’s because people are still hurting and need help and that’s okay. You can forgive yourself for that. People like Boscha and Belos of course struggle with becoming too co-dependent, but that just furthers the lesson of vulnerability being something you have to healthily acknowledge and deal with in order to survive. Admitting weakness is, paradoxically, a strength in and of itself. Characters come to term with their failures as parents, protectors, and leaders, while others feel haunted or punished no matter how hard they try.

[karmicpunishment]

bsd 118 spoilers and predictions for future

i knew we’d be seeing more and more ally deaths but god i wasn’t prepared for how sad they’d make me even though i know they’ll be back

kenji and tecchou fighting together is wonderful i love their combo move

lucy and kyouka are back!!! they might die next chapter (or at least kyouka) but i will enjoy seeing them while i can

so excited for the official translations of certain pieces of this chapter

atsushi is reaching new levels of devestation every chapter :-((

FYODOR AND ATSUSHI FINALLY MEET FACE TO FACE!!!! at last!!

the way he’s speaking and looking at him…its practically gentle and i hate it

i predict he’ll try to get him on his side? or maybe share more lore next month (can we find out about how fyodor knew about atsushi before everything??? please I’m begging)

for next chapter i think we’ll see another duo (maybe trio?) arrive of yosano + either jouno or tachihara or both, and then probably get slaughtered 😔 if jouno appears he’ll reunite with tecchou since he’s still alive so far

i think we’ll also check back in with aya and akutagawa next month

i don’t think we’ll see mersault until december or january at least

before we catch up to sskk vs fukuchi pt2 where the anime left off we’ll be seeing all agency members and hunting dogs die

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 15

‘I know where you can get plenty of victims for your hunt.’ Toshi said as she hopped up onto the wall that was by them.

‘Why would you want to help me find humans to throw into the hunt? Or is this another of your there’s a few bad guys you can eat to help me out, situation?’ Chris asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Toshi intently.

‘So, if it is another situation like that, would you turn it down?’ Toshi asked.

Chris grumbled deep in his chest and sighed. ‘Depends. I need a lot of humans for the hunt, there’s a lot of vampires that are waiting for their yearly ritual.’

‘Would around fifteen suffice?’ Toshi asked with a little smirk.

Chris raised an eyebrow. ‘You know of fifteen people that, in your eyes, are evil enough to warrant being hunted by vampires and killed?’

‘I know of more. Fifteen is probably the reasonable amount we’d be able to kidnap and take back here for the hunt. Since obviously we couldn’t kill them, that would defeat the purpose of the hunt.’

‘Obviously.’ Chris muttered. ‘So, where exactly do we find these fifteen people? Are they scattered around the city?’

‘Nope. Even better. There are over twenty assholes all in one place.’ Toshi said excitedly as she swung her legs back and fore.

Chris frowned in confusion and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Wait, wait, wait… You need to explain more, where and who are these people?’

Toshi slipped off the wall and began walking back and fore. ‘I’ve been following a group for… years now, they traffic young women… even kids… kidnap them from their homes, or off the street, then sell them on and ship them off abroad. I’ve finally been able to track them all and have found out they’re having a massive sale tomorrow night, just a few hours from here at the harbour. Buyers will be there too, so there’s likely going to be way more than the twenty odd I’ve been tracking.’

Chris’ eyes went wide. The thought made him sick. ‘We should just slaughter them all on the spot.’ He hissed.

‘I know… I would love nothing more. Though there will be plenty there, we can kidnap some for your hunt, and kill the rest. Think of the fear they’d have being kidnapped, giving them a taste of their own medicine, before meeting an agonisingly painful death.’ Toshi said with a small glint in her eye as she stopped pacing back and fore and stood facing Chris.

The thought did get Chris’ heart racing a little.

‘Not just guys, there’s women too that are involved in the trafficking. So you don’t need to worry about only having men to hunt.’ Toshi added in.

Chris scoffed. ‘Blood is blood.’

‘I know of some vampires that only like women’s blood.’ Toshi said and Chris shrugged then nodded in agreement. ‘I guess there is.’

‘Plus, I bet when you get a taste of Louise’s blood, you won’t be saying blood is blood.’ Toshi said knowingly with a smirk.

Chris chuckled. ‘I guess not.’

‘Imagine how much more of a Prince Charming she will find you after hearing how you’ve helped save hundreds of girls?’ Toshi teased.

Chris narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I’m already Prince Charming in her eyes.’

‘Oh, I know, she’s told us all plenty in the chat.’

‘She has?’ Chris’ voice went a little high.

Toshi nodded.

Chris quickly focused again and coughed a little. ‘Back to the matter at hand… Even though we are capable of many things on our own, I doubt we’d manage to take out that many people alone… Since we need to get a handful back here. I think we’re going to need help.’

‘Sev has already agreed to help me… but we could do with more help. Who do you have in mind?’

‘Loki is strong… Convincing him might not be easy though.’ Chris hummed and took a few slow steps to the side.

‘Claire would be all for it, I’m sure she can help us convince him.’ Toshi said.

‘How can you be so sure?’ Chris asked.

Toshi scoffed. ‘We love seeing our vampire boyfriends do good while being all scary and strong. Of course she will be all for it.’

‘Does that include Louise?’ Chris asked after a pause.

‘Of course it does.’

‘Wait, even Jessica?’

‘Yep.’

‘She’s a vampire too though?’ Chris frowned.

‘So? I know when I get turned, it won’t change my view of Sev.’ Toshi said as if it was the most obvious thing.

‘Huh… Well… I guess I better go speak to my brother.’

‘Once he agrees, tell Claire to give me a shout. Sev and I will come round to plan it all out.’ Toshi said as she began walking away.

‘Or you could just come with me now and help convince him?’ Chris called to her.

‘No, no. I’ll give you brothers some space first to make amends.’ Toshi shouted back to him over her shoulder.

‘Great. Thanks.’ Chris huffed.

-

Loki opened the door and when he saw Chris stood there, he went to shut the door in his face. Chris quickly reached out and stopped him from slamming the door.

‘Wait… I’m sorry.’ Chris said quickly, knowing an apology would be the only thing to get him to listen.

Loki gritted his teeth and opened the door again.

‘I’m sorry for fighting… I’m not sorry for still wanting to hold the hunt.’

Loki was about to shut the door again, but Chris quickly continued. ‘BUT, I am not going to take innocent people.’

Loki paused and opened the door again wider. ‘You’re not?’

‘No… I was just speaking to Toshi, she knows of a group of people that have been trafficking young women and kids... They’re congregating tomorrow night, perfect opportunity to take out the assholes and kidnap some to throw into the woods.’

Loki frowned. ‘Wait… what?’

‘Can I come in?’ Chris asked with a sigh.

Loki reluctantly agreed and stepped aside to let him in.

They went through to the living room where Claire was with Bat.

‘If you two are going to start arguing again, do it outside.’ Claire said firmly.

Chris smirked a little as he sat down. ‘I’ve not come here to argue. I’ve come to ask Loki for help.’

‘What?’ Both Loki and Claire said at the same time as Loki sat down next to Claire.

‘Toshi has been following a group of people that are trafficking young women and kids, kidnapping them from their homes or straight off the street and shipping them off to anywhere and everywhere.’

Claire’s eyes widened in horror.

‘She’s been waiting for the right time to attack, and tomorrow night they are having a big sale, so they’re all going to be there. Including a lot of buyers, who are just as much assholes. So, she suggested we go and take them all out. Have some fun killing some, getting a good feed… but also taking some back here to use for the hunt. Giving them a taste of their own medicine, letting them feel fear and pain.’ Chris explained. ‘But there’s a lot of them, Toshi and I wouldn’t manage on our own… Well, we would if it was just killing them all. Severus is going to come too… I thought that you could help us, you are the strongest vampire I know. Aside from myself and dad.’

Loki just stared at Chris completely dumbfounded for a moment.

‘That… That’s terrible what they are doing, and I am not saying that they don’t deserve death and I’m not going to stop you from using them in the hunt… but you can’t be serious in wanting me to go and help?’ Loki said once he was able to get his mind to work.

‘Why not?’ Chris asked with a frown.

‘You know I don’t feed from humans like that.’ Loki said firmly.

‘You feed from me…’ Claire said quietly.

‘That’s different.’ Loki argued.

‘You did it at the ball.’ Chris added in.

Loki ran a hand down his face. ‘That… that was different too. You’re asking me to go and seek out humans to shred to pieces.’

‘They don’t sound like great humans to me.’ Claire said quietly.

‘No… perhaps not, but still.’

‘Don’t you think the world would be better rid of them? It’ll be fun, letting yourself go. Which you need to do more often, lil bro. It’s good for your health to get the blood pumping once in a while. You’d be doing good, too.’ Chris said and glanced briefly at Claire, who seemed quite keen on the idea.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and got up to his feet, he paced about back and fore a little. Bat looked up at him from Claire’s lap and gave a little meow.

‘You think I should do it?’ He asked Bat.

She meowed again and nodded her head once. Making Loki sigh, he then looked at Claire. ‘What do you think?’

‘You’ve already asked the boss of the house and been given approval, you don’t my second hand one.’ Claire said as she put her hands up.

Chris chuckled. Loki rolled his eyes.

‘Seriously, love.’ Loki said softly.

Claire shrugged. ‘I won’t force you to do something you don’t want to do… it’s obviously your decision. Though I don’t see the harm in going and letting yourself loose, doing what you need to do. Plus, you’d be doing it for a good cause from the sounds of it. Rescuing a lot of girls. Makes me feel sick what traffickers do.’

Loki nodded slowly and put his hands on his hips.

‘Let your inner monster come out to play for a while, brother.’ Chris grinned.

‘Maybe… What would the plan be? How safe would we be? I am not risking anything.’ Loki asked Chris.

Chris looked at Claire. ‘Toshi said for you to message her when Loki agrees, then she will come over with Severus to discuss it all.’

‘Oh, ok.’ Claire reached over to grab her phone to message Toshi.

‘What do you mean when Loki agrees? How did she know I would?’ Loki scoffed.

Chris chuckled. ‘Toshi just seems to know these things.’

-

Severus and Toshi pulled up outside of Loki and Claire’s place in Severus’ classic old jaguar. He killed the ignition and turned to Toshi.

‘Did you tell him?’

‘No…’

‘Are you going to tell them?’ He asked as he reached over and put his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently.

‘Not beforehand… maybe after.’ Toshi whispered and looked at Severus as she put her hand over his.

‘Whatever you prefer, love.’ Severus smiled and leaned over to kiss her on the lips.

[cursed-peanut]

Fireworks

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: GN! Reader, ANGSTTTTTTTT, not proofread, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, swearing, partly inspired by AOT (you’ll get it if you’ve watched/read it).

A/N: For context of this fic, it was inspired by Mitski’s song Fireworks. Listen to it if you haven’t already :3 (Geto is so Mitski coded and I am HERE for it). This fic is also slightly Eremika coded bc THIS SONG IS LITERALLY THEM!! Also dw everyone, I’m still writing the Sukuna fic, I just wanted to be a bit self indulgent with angst :3 Enjoy! <3

————————————

Fireworks used to be such a joyful experience. They light up the dark sky with a harsh bang and beautiful colours. The varying patterns mesmerising everyone into watching forever.

But now they are nothing but a painful reminder of the past.

You tell yourself year after year that you’ve moved on from him — you’ve moved on from that good for nothing murderer who slaughtered all those humans for no reason.

But when you’re lying in bed, on a warm summers’ night, you’re reminded that you can never truly snuff out your love for him — despite his actions.

You’re disgusted with yourself for not being able to move on from this diabolical man. He’s ended so many lives — so many innocent lives — yet here you are, replaying old memories you seemingly eternally cherish.

“Hey, Suguru. Wait up,” you yell, Suguru stops walking to give you a chance to catch up to him, but he keeps his gaze to the floor. “Did you hear there’s going to be a firework display tonight? I heard they’re doing it to celebrate Jujutsu High’s Tokyo branch for being around for so many years. Anyway, we should watch them together!”

Suguru finally tears his eyes away from the wooden floor to look at you. “I don’t like fireworks. Their loud noises overwhelm me.”

“Oh…I didn’t know that…hey, what if we watch them from my dorm window? We’d get the perfect view and it shouldn’t be too loud.” You grin. Suguru is sceptical, but your beaming smile and want to hang out with him makes him cave.

“Alright. What time should I be at your dorm by?” Your grin grows impossibly bigger as you tell him eight o’clock. That gives you two half an hour to set up properly before the fireworks start.

“C’mon, Suguru. It’s almost eight thirty, we need to sit by the window.” He was still slightly nervous to watch the fireworks with you, even though he is far from them, but he swallows his fears down and sits with you by the window.

Soon the night sky begins to light up with the long awaited fireworks and you’re completely enamoured. So focused on them, you don’t notice that Suguru isn’t looking at them — in fact he hasn’t looked at a single one in front of him — the only fireworks he has seen tonight are the ones that reflect in your adoring eyes.

He uses this moment to question himself. Is he really going to go through with this? If he kills everyone in his village, there’s no going back and he’d most likely never see you again. You’d probably hate him as well, so there’s no point in asking you to join him. But would it hurt to ask? Would you push him away and call him a monster? Or would you agree to be his lover and stay by his side? The choice is yours.

“Y/N,” he almost feels guilty for ripping you out of your trance, but he needs to know now. It’s now or never. “What am I to you?”

“Hm?” You raise a brow. “What do you mean?”

“What am I to you?” Suguru pinches his brows together as he prepares for your rejection.

“I- Suguru, what are you-“

“What am I to you? Do you see me as the man who’s fought along side you or your family?”

“Huh? I- um- w-where did this come from?”

“Please,” Suguru looks at you urgently. “What am I to you?”

“I’m…you…you’re…you’re my…” You bite your lip with uncertainty before answering. “You’re my family.”

Suguru watches the fireworks properly for the first time tonight with a saddened look, and so do you. Unsure about your answer but too afraid and embarrassed to correct yourself.

Fifteen minutes of fireworks and thick silence go past slowly until the last one is lit and Suguru bids goodbye. You watch how his long hair sways when he walks down the corridor, not knowing that that would be the last time you saw and talked to Suguru Geto.

Now looking back on that memory, you wonder how you hadn’t seen Suguru’s heavy eye bags. How no one saw them. Or perhaps you did see them but you were unsure on how to talk to him about it.

These damn fireworks, always reminding you of him.

But still, they always have you wondering what would’ve happened if you told him how you truly felt. Would he have stayed at Jujutsu High with you, or was he too far gone at that point and would’ve asked you to join him? You honestly don’t know and most likely never will.

But you do know one thing:

Fuck warm summer nights, fuck fireworks, and fuck Suguru Geto.

————————————

Please don’t copy or take as your own. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Like what you read? Here are all my other works and consider following me! If you would like to request something, please check my rules first before doing so.

[breannasfluff]

Lost Hero

“How can you lose an entire person?”

“He can’t just be gone!”

“I bet he’s wandering around exploring.”

“It’s Sky, not Hyrule or Wild! There’s no way he got up early to go exploring.”

“Who was on watch last night?”

A long pause and all eyes swivel to look at Wild. ‘The hideout is empty,’ he signs. ‘Promise. Riju cleared it out; we’re safe here.’

Legend snorts, folding his arms. “Well, that certainly didn’t stop Sky from vanishing off his bedroll!”

This, of course, is the root of the problem. They woke this morning to find Sky missing. There’s no sign of struggle and no one woke to a fight. The blankets are merely pushed back and empty. Most telling of all, the Master Sword still rests by his bedside, sheathed.

“When’s the last time someone saw him?”

Wild raises his hand. ‘He was asleep on his mat, well, halfway off his mat last night when I went to bed. Seemed fine.’

Wind paces until Warriors captures him under an arm to pull against his side. “What if something happened to him?”

Time rubs a hand over his face and gestures to the empty room. “Let's not jump to conclusions. He might have gotten up to go to the bathroom or explored and got lost. Wild, you know this area best, let's break into teams and search the area.”

“Did anyone look outside yet,” Hyrule offers.

They haven’t, which leads to a mad rush for the door to pull it open. They pile outside, calling for Sky’s name, only to be greeted by silence.

“It’s not windy,” Four points out. “We’d be able to see his footprints if he left this way.”

The sand is smooth except for the footprints they scuffed when descending from the cliff. No tracks extend down the canyon to point to the missing hero and there’s no breeze to fill in prints.

“Back inside, everyone. Maybe he’s stuck.”

The Chain filters back inside with grumbles and worried murmurs. Wild trails them, trying vainly to unseat the guilt taking up residence under his ribcage. Is this his fault? He told Time they didn’t need to set a watch.

The yiga hideout should be empty, though. Riju and her warriors ripped it apart and Wild helped. Some might call it slaughter; she called it necessary. It’s hard to draw up sympathy for people who attacked him continuously on the road or posed as needing help, hoping to catch him off guard.

The hideout was empty, the yiga were dismantled, and Wild slept easier at night for it. Yet none of this explained what happened to Sky. The chosen hero isn’t the type to wander off on his own; he sticks close to the camp and others.

They break into pairs and spread in different directions, calling periodically for Sky. Voices echo and refract on the stone. It plays tricks on Wild’s ears and makes them twitch. Is that Sky calling back or an echo?

The hallways form a warren, connecting in odd ways. Wild and Four run into Wind and Warriors, only to break apart and try another turn. It’s easy to see how someone could end up lost, but they still find no hero.

The Chain meets again at the back of the hideout and Wild circles the outdoor area, eyeing the pit.

“He’s gone! What are we going to do?” Wind’s voice is high with fear.

“We’ll find him, sailor.”

“We don’t have any clues! What if something snatched him? What if one of us is next?”

Warriors tries to ruffle Wind’s hair, but he ducks away. “We’ll stick to pairs. We’ll set up watches. We’re heroes; we’ve dealt with danger before.”

“But this is Sky!”

Sky, who wields his soft, sleepy demeanor like a blade to get what he wants. Sky who sighs dreamily over his girlfriend. Sky, who gives cuddles to anyone who wants or needs them. Sky, who respects Wild’s boundaries.

Sky, who’s missing because Wild said they were safe.

“Guys! Come look at this!” Four’s on the other side of the pit, peering at one of the large rocks.

The champion joins him, frowning at the rock. ‘What about it?’ he signs.

“It looks like a hidden mechanism. Here, help me push it.”

With a shrug, Wild puts his shoulder to the rock and he and Four give it a shove. It moves—a lot easier than either were expecting. Wild slips on the sand and nearly bashes his chin on the rock. Four keeps his feet, but it’s a near thing.

“Woah! This is way too light. And look, it’s on rails!” Four gives it another tentative shove and it slides easily. Something grinds and whirrs; the sounds of well-oiled gears. “What the…”

“You find something?” Time joins them, looking at the rock and the grooves. The rest of the boys drift over as well.

“I don’t know, but this is something either way. Look, you can cover up the tracks with sand and no one would know the rock moves.”

“Keep pushing it!” Hyrule lays on the ground, peering into the pit. Legend grabs the back of his tunic, even though he’s not in danger of falling in. “I think I see it doing something.

Four wipes away sand from the rails and Wild gives it a final push. It clicks into place and Hyrule cheers.

They also join him on the edge of the pit to look down. A walkway has appeared, winding downwards.

“Champion? What’s down there?”

Wild can only shrug. ‘Never seen this before,’ he signs. ‘Even with Riju. We checked the pit but it’s just that; a pit. Deep.’

“Think Sky found it and went down?”

“And how would he push the rock back into place?”

Hyrule grimaces and turns to Time. “Is it worth checking out?”

Time looks at the walkway, then the worried faces of the boys. “Twilight, do you think Wolfie is around and would be able to track him?”

He grimaces and shakes his head. “He already tried. It’s hard to pick up any scents in the sand; everything criss-crosses.”

Warriors squints at him. “How does Wolfie manage to follow you from realm to realm?”

An enigmatic smile is his only answer. “Magic.”

“Yeah, right. Well, this is the only lead we have. I say we go for it.”

Four is still examining the sliding rock. “Should we split up? At least until we check out what’s down there?”

“Why would we do that?”

He gestures to the rock. “What if this is on a timer and it starts to slide back? Do you all want to fall off a staircase into a giant pit?”

“The smith has a good point,” Warriors adds. “Time, let's split into groups. I can stay here with a few in case Sky comes back. The rest of you go explore the pit.”

The old man nods, easily accepting the decision. “Four and Wind, you stay here with Warriors. The rest of you, with me.”

“Why is it always the short ones left behind,” Wind grumbles, but he crouches by Four to examine the rock again.

The rest of them step onto the platform and start the long, winding path down into the pit.

Read the rest here!

[thebookworm0001]

Okay one big post full of spoilery things from across the entire game for the things I have critiques about then back to losing my shit over the game and how much I like it

Music was underwhelming. Best parts of it were when the old soundtrack came back

There are moments where more specific callbacks and character choices should have been. DA has never cared much about the big choices that carry over, but the small stuff did. And the world feels emptier at times because of it.

Related, the whole world 1) accepting the elven gods are real and 2) accepting they’re evil before you ever show up feels… weird. I wish there had been an explanation about how that went down. I assume the game was trying to avoid a ‘slaughter another dalish clan’ thing by making all the elves know and accept that information and by extension not become enemies to fight when following the gods, but coming off how big a reveal that was in trespasser? Felt odd as a returning fan

Honestly it did feel like a lot of the moral complexity of the world got flattened out. Solas is allowed to be morally complex - both a victim and a villain in turns - while every other villain twirls their mustache and only the Most Evil and Selfish People Ever follow them.

Speaking of, while the venatori do get a moment or two where they digest the old gods and tevinter gods being the same, I wish the codex we’d gotten about it had appeared sooner. I also wish there was more on the fractured Antaam being chill with working with mages since trespasser was about them, you know, destroying magic. We’ve also apparently ditched the lore about the crows buying potential assassins and putting them through deadly torture to ‘train’ them

Mythal, cool as it was to see her back again, does not get enough flack for her role in the blight and pushing solas into a place where he feels world-ending guilt over what he did in her name. She acknowledges she broke him in the hidden ending but I do wish there had been more remorse on her part.

[arpmemething2]

Quotes from Firefly/Serenity Sentence Starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.   Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

“Let’s go be bad guys!”

“Ten percent of nothin’ is … let me do the math here … nothin’ into nothin’ … carry the nothin’ … ”

"We’re crooks. If everything were right, we’d be in jail.”

"Nothing buys bygones quicker than cash."

“Like woman, I am a mystery.”

“Oh, I think you might wanna reconsider that last part. See, I married me a powerful ugly creature.”

“Every man there go back inside or we will blow a new crater in this little moon.”

“Well, maybe I’m not a fancy gentleman like you, with your … very fine hat. But I do business. We’re here for business.”

"How can you say that? How can you shame me in front of new people?"

"Um, I’m trying to put this as delicately as I can…how do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?"

"Go to blackout! We're being buzzed!"

"Well, I guess death will solve the issue to everyone's satisfaction."

"Everybody plays each other. That's all anybody ever does. We play parts."

“Did something just fly off my gorram ship?”

"You guys had a riot... on account of me? My very own riot?"

“We’ve done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.”

"It's been a big day, what with the abduction, and all."

"I'm not sure you'd be safe."

"Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals… speak on every subject… then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”

"Seems like a lovely little community of kidnappers."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're exactly where you ought to be."

“Can we maybe vote on the whole murdering people issue?”

"If you take sexual advantage of her, you will burn in a very special level of hell. The kind they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater."

"Go play with your rainstick."

"Don't make yourself sick."

“Mercy is the mark of a great man.”

"I don't suppose you'd find it up to the standards of your outings. More conversation, and somewhat less... petty theft and getting hit with pool cues."

"You gonna give us what's due us and every damn thing else on that boat. And I think maybe you gonna give me a little one-on-one time with the misses."

"I cannot abide useless people."

"Mmm. You missed a spot."

“Man walks down the street in a hat like that, you know he’s not afraid of anything … ”

"This is the place. We'll buy you the time."

“Also? I can kill you with my brain.”

“Psychic, though? That sounds like something out of science fiction.”

"It’s not embarrassing to be a virgin. It’s simply one’s state of being."

"That's why I never kiss 'em on the mouth."

"I been waiting for you to kiss me since I showed you my guns."

"I'll be in my bunk."

"They don't like it when you shoot at 'em. I worked that out myself."

"Drunks are so cute."

“Going on a year now, nothins twixed my neathers not run on batteries.”

"He's not wildly interested in ingratiating himself with anyone, yet he's very protective of his crew. It's odd."

"How we treat our dead is part of what makes us different…than those did the slaughtering."

“The important thing is the spices. A man can live on packaged food from here ’til Judgment Day if he’s got enough rosemary.”

"I think you have a problem with your brain being missing."

"Okay! Everybody not talking about sex, in here. Everybody else, elsewhere."

“First rule of battle, little one … don’t ever let them know where you are.”

“Terse? I can be terse. Once, in flight school, I was laconic.”

"Don't you just love this party? Everything's so fancy and they have some kind of hot cheese over there!"

"I hate to bring up our imminent arrest during your crazy time, but we gotta go."

“I don’t think of myself as a lion. You might as well, though, I have a mighty roar.”

"You can't open the book of my life and jump in the middle."

"I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar."

“I aim to misbehave.”

"Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals… speak on every subject… then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

"Every man there go back inside, or we will blow a new crater in this little moon."

“You know what the chain of command is? It’s the chain I go get and beat you with until you understand who’s in ruttin charge here.”

“I cannot abide useless people.”

"I I ever kill you, you’ll be awake, you’ll be facing me, and you’ll be armed."

"You are very much lacking in imagination.”

"Call me if anyone interesting shows up."

"Very well-bred petty crook knows that the small concealable weapons always go to the far left of the place setting."

"This must be what going mad feels like."

"You don't seem to be lookin' at the destinations. What you care about is the ships, and mine's the nicest."

"Remember that sex we were planning to have, ever again?"

"Someone's carryin' a bullet for you right now, doesn't even know it. The trick is, die of old age before it finds you."

“If anyone gets nosy, just …you know … shoot ’em. “

“WHOO-HOO! I’M RIGHT HERE! I’M RIGHT HERE! YOU WANT SOME O’ ME?! YEAH YOU DO! COME ON! COME ON! AAAAAH! Whoo-hoo!”

"I'll do anything you want me to. You know how I can make you feel."

"I need this man to tear all my clothes off."

“Someone ever tries to kill you, you try to kill ’em right back!”

"Sorry to interrupt, folks, but y'all got something that belongs to us, and we'd like it back."

“Next time you want to stab me in the back, have the guts to do it to my face.”

“I’ve been under fire before. Well … I’ve been in a fire. Actually, I was fired. I can handle myself.”

“I’ve been out of the abbey two days, I’ve beaten a lawman senseless, I’ve fallen in with criminals. I watched the captain shoot the man I swore to protect. And I’m not even sure if I think he was wrong.”

“In the maiden’s home, I heard talk of men who weren’t pleased with their brides…”

"Got your next heist planned?"

"It's good to be home."

"She still has the advantage over us."

"Do you know what the definition of a hero is? Someone who gets other people killed."

"Yeah, but she's our witch."

“We’re not gonna die. We can’t die. You know why? Because we are so very pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die.”

"Can you stop her from bein’ so cheerful?"

“How did your brain even learn human speech?”

“Yes sir, Captain Tightpants!”

"You are such a boob."

"You don't need strength as much as speed. We're fragile creatures. It takes less than a pound of pressure to cut skin."

"Your mouth is talking. You might wanna look to that.”

"You guys always bring me the very best violence. "

"Every problem is an opportunity in disguise."

“We got some local color happening. A grand entrance would not go amiss.”

"I'm assumin' y'all were listenin'? Did you hear us fight?"

"I... I threw up on your bed."

"I swallowed a bug."

"I'm... trying to think of a way for you to be cruder. I just... it's not coming."

"It sounds like the finest party I can imagine getting paid to go to."

“Now I did a job. I got nothing but trouble since I did it, not to mention more than a few unkind words as regard to my character so let me make this abundantly clear. I do the job. And then I get paid.”

"I said you're a coward and a piss-pot. Now what are you gonna do about it?"

"You paid money for this, sir? On purpose?"

“I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you.”

“Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets.”

"You were truthful back in town. These are tough times. A man can get a job, he might not look too close at what that job is. But a man learns all the details of a situation like ours... well... then he has a choice."

"So you had to be naked?"

"So… are you enjoying your own nubile little slave girl?"

"Just keep walkin', preacher-man."

"We crashing again?"

“No power in the verse can stop me.”

"I know something ain't right."

“‘Course, there’re other schools of thought.”

"Can't miss a place you've never been."

"Tell me I'm pretty."

"Physical appearance doesn't matter so terribly. You look for compatibility of spirit. There's an energy about a person that's difficult to hide.You try to feel that."

"Can we fly somewhere with a beach?"

"What gives you the right to put her in a dangerous situation like this?"

"I think I've been kidnapped."

"Money wasn't good enough."

“Well, my time of not taking you seriously is coming to a middle.”

"Is it bad that what she said made perfect sense to me?"

"See, morbid and creepifying, I got no problem with, long as she does it quiet-like."

"What was that?"

"Well, you were right about this being a bad idea."

"Haven't you killed me enough for one day?"

"You save his gorram life, he still takes the cargo."

[wellthebardsdead]

Lucy: *lands back at camp and folds in her wings having carried everyone from the collapsing monastery* Is everyone alright?

Astarion: more than I can say about the Githyanki, how the hell did you know that hidden chamber was there?

Gale: never mind that how did you know taking that mace would trap the Githyanki in that barrier?

Lucy: Because. And I will repeat again. I. KNOW. THINGS. *turns to face Lae’zel as she approaches her with hostility* I knew Vlaakith would label you as a traitor no matter what you did!! I knew the whole creche would turn against you and we’d be left no choice but to slaughter everyone and risk dying ourselves or just give up and die! I warned you! I warned you and you refused to fucking listen! I told you the zaith'isk was just like those things on the ship! There is no cure! There was never a fucking cure! That machine kills the worms host and extracts their memories! Vlaakith isn’t a god she’s a traitorous lich! She sold mother gith to Tiamat in exchange for power and the red dragons! That’s why Prince Orpheus is bound in infernal chains in that fucking skull! So can you get that through your thick skull now you insufferable ASSHOLE?!?!

Lae’zel: *taken aback at her outburst* I-…

Lucy: *pulls the Githyanki egg from her bag and hands it to her* there, we saved the only innocent. *huffs and turns to the rest of the group* Does anybody else want to ignore my advice?! Have I proven to you that I know what’s going to happen if you don’t?!?! Or are you dickheads just going to keep running head first into trouble then whine and bitch and throw a tantrum at me because I was right?!?!

Shadowheart: Lucy calm down-

Lucy: Oh fuck off! Your parents are alive and currently being held hostage by Shar! That wasn’t a wolf in your vision it was your father trying to save you from them but noooOoooO when the time comes you’ll be blathering on and on and on and ON about how wonderful your ‘dark laAedy’ is and I’ll be the one standing between your blade and an innocent life that’s suffered for more than a century because NONE OF YOU EVER WANT TO FUCKING LISTEN!

Gale: L-Lucy-

Lucy: Oh shut up! You’ve no right to try and calm me down when you’re considering BLOWING YOURSELF UP FOR THAT BITCH! *throws the blood of lathander by the fire only for the mace to float back to her and nudge itself against her palm asking to be held* … *takes it curiously and feels a warmth flood through her like lathanders giving her a blessing, her hellish form now having a warm celestial glow as asmodeus power wains in the face of the gods* I… hm… *walks off to her tent still staring at the mace quietly, feathers slowly popping up at the base of her leathery wings*

Everyone: *standing there in stunned silence, guilt hanging heavy on their shoulders*

Karlach: we’ve all asked too much of her…

Wyll: worse… we asked and didn’t listen…