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#also feel free to ask more about him or ask more in general

evilminji · 1 day

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I think I figured it out?

My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?

Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.

Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.

Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?

.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.

The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.

It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.

He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!

But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?

Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!

It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.

At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!

Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!

He graduates.

He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.

He applies anyway.

Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.

Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.

And...

Huh.

The answer depends?

In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.

He...backs away slowly.

Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.

Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.

Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.

Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.

Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.

Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.

He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.

There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.

He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.

Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?

........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe

#dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #minji's writing #Zone Shops Au #Shops of Wonder Au

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okiankeno · 2 days

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Ofc most people who think damien is a monster are under 25. Their view of morality is skewed. Also can you even explain how he was being passive agressive? Cuz i read all his tweets and dont see it. But i am a stupid autist so what do i know..

Ok, I got two of these asks so I'm going to answer from my POV what I'm seeing. First of all, a shot at my age is very mature for introducing your argument (this is sarcasm). I never said that Damien is a monster. I am not demonizing him. Damien is admittedly one of my favourites on Smosh, and I think as fans, we are allowed to identify when someone you are a fan of does something wrong. I stated in my previous reblog that how he handled his interactions with Zayna was poor. You are putting words in my mouth, but I digress. My long-winded explanation of Damien's interactions being passive-aggressive is under the cut.

I'm going to straight up pull the Google search of 'passive aggressive' here.

Expressing negative feelings indirectly instead of openly talking about them. There are multiple instances of it in the interactions with Zayna and others in my opinion. However, I feel that people have different takes on passive-aggressiveness, so feel free to share with me what you think being passive-aggressive looks like. The points I will describe below are my interpretations of situation.

1) I think the most abundant example of passive-aggressiveness is Damien blocking multiple accounts, escpecially Zayna after he had apologized. Blocking someone implies you do not want to hear or see someone's thoughts on your timeline, literally blocking them out (until you choose to unblock them). He is not open to communicating further with people or does not want to communicate with them at all. I understand how this can be seen as him looking out for himself, but generally, blocking is considered a negative action, thus the action is passive-aggressive. Damien blocked some people on Twitter who have not even interacted with Damien nor even said anything remotely negative about him. Here is one such example:

I call this passive-aggressiveness due to the lack of communication with Damien and the negative context of blocking multiple accounts. It is providing more tension and confusion to others without explaining anything. We see the result of this lack of communication with the Twitter user above as it leaves something to be explained, the other party wondering, "What did I do wrong?" This is especially upsetting in the case of Zayna as reaching an apology with someone should not result in another person blocking another. I will expand on this idea below.

2) In Damien's interactions with Zayna, the passive-aggressiveness is much worse. Anon, I want you to imagine you are in a situation where someone has apologized to you. An apology is reached when one party realizes they have done wrong and acknowledges that the other party is correct in some way. It is an agreement.

Here is an interaction chain between Zayna and Damien, after their initial confrontation. It appears they have reached a common ground or the agreement I aforentioned. Unfortunately, the original reaction from Damien and the original post that Zayna had requested Damien for an apology are deleted, and I do not have that screenshotted, so we will go with what evidence I have here.

First tweet with an apology, third sentence: "While I'll never understand looking to old content to somehow negate the present, I do apologize, plain and simple."

Here, his apology is mixed - there's tension. If he truly understands the need for an apology, why mention the quote I highlighted above? In an apology, would you appreciate it if the other party apologized, but stated that they don't quite understand why they are apologizing? No. I wouldn't be satisfied with that, and you shouldn't either if you are expecting an apology. He could have ended the apology with the first few sentences. To me, it feels like a half-hearted apology given his choice of words in his third and fourth sentences.

Compare the previous apology to the second image on the right. Damien agrees that he is in the wrong here and essentially will learn from his mistakes. This is an apology with no conflict or passive-aggressiveness. There are no conflicting ideas within this tweet, unlike the previous apology on the left.

By this point, it seems that Zayna and Damien have reached a common ground and the conversation is over. This changes with the next tweet Damien sends on the left image:

Here, Zayna is replying to the deleted tweet on the left. I think this, above all, is a good example of Damien being passive aggressive because:

3) it's a direct display of miscommunication, where Damien outlines his unmet expectations of the interaction post-apology. This tweet contains a critique towards Zayna "If that wasn't your goal [depicting Damien as a bad person], your methods confuse me tbh" followed by a positive end note that comes off as strange given his opening statement. It feels like a backhanded compliment. Zayna got what she requested (an apology) but Damien is questioning her methods and even requesting something from her (Damien implies he wants tweets to be deleted after apologizing). And then he wishes her family and herself well? Do you see how this doesn't quite add up?

This could be genuine confusion on Damien's side, but given that both parties before this appeared to have reached a consensus of some sort, I don't think this is the case. Damien prolongs the conflict; he continues the conversation with Zayna, having expectations for what he envisions the resolution of the argument to be. This was not communicated to Zayna as demonstrated in her reply and she is rightfully confused. This is very weird – why is Damien, who has apologized, now provoking Zayna again if the conversation has ended? If Damien wanted to resolve this more directly, he could have also reached out in direct messages rather than continuing this publicly on Twitter just as he states in his tweet.

4) this is more about the dramatic irony of the situation, but I think it is also Damien being passive-aggressive – the 19k followers comment. This really puzzled me. Damien pointing out the follower count of Zayna and stating that she is depicting him as a bad person is exactly what Damien is doing as well by continuing the conversation in the way he did. He adds fuel back to the fire implying this conversation is not over as Zayna did not resolve his apology (... but shouldn't he take responsibility for this issue if he is apologizing for it?) to his liking. Damien has 266k followers on Twitter as of the last time I checked, and (I want to believe this) unknowingly has depicted Zayna in the wrong by exposing his followers to this. Additionally, In a previous tweet, Damien said he would learn from reacting in frustration. I think this again is him doing exactly that, reacting in frustration with this tweet but then deleting the tweet after. His actions are backtracking upon himself.

Now, to address something else but on the same topic: I'm not sure if you are aware, but Zayna has said she received death threats from Damien / Smosh fans. See below.

I bring this up because you mentioned that my view of morality is skewed. At what point in any of the arguments in this post or what I reblogged, have I earned the title of broken moral compass? Again, I have not once stated he is a monster in my posts. This is you interpreting my words, Anon.

I am trying to defend my opinion on how I see that Damien's interactions with Zayna have been handled poorly and that he was passive-aggressive, and it has resulted in this – death threats and a whole lot of controversy on multiple social media platforms. There's a lot of collateral damage that has been done within the Smosh community.

If death threats and Damien needing to take a Twitter break from an this interaction are not a great indication of a situation spiraling out of control as a result of Damien's responses, I'm not sure what else I can tell you, Anon. I hope I have made myself clear.

As a side note, I did not appreciate you coming into my asks, and insulting me without providing any arguments to your cause. If you continue to speak to me in the same manner, come off anon and let me block you (or vice-versa, block me). We will not see eye to eye with each other and never will if we cannot present our words without malice. It will be beneficial for both of us to not aggravate each other.

Before I end my answer, I want to reiterate that I do like Damien (personally less now given the situation at hand, but I digress), and I think you and I share this opinion at least. You are allowed to like something and be disappointed in it in tandem. I want him to come out of his break with a good answer for his actions. I hope he comes out of his Twitter detox with a clear mind and learns from this experience.

Anon(s) that sent this in, I hope that this answers your questions.

#well i was notnexpecting to write an essay but here we are #damien haas #smosh #fiery rambles #asks #smosh discourse

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withwritersblock · 3 days

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Room For Two

~ROOM FOR 2 by Benson Boone~

Author's Note: requested, also I love Ross Colton Summary: Ross tells his girlfriend where he gets traded to Warnings: none Word Count: 1,130 Ross Colton x fm!reader

He was told a couple weeks prior to the playoffs that there was a low chance that he would be given a contract with the Lightning. He still held out hope that he would get to stay with the team he won a Stanley Cup with. He loved living in Tampa, he met his girlfriend here.

He wanted nothing more than to stay with the Lightning but the management had other plans. They decided that he would not get a contract and that he would be traded. He wasn’t going into free agency like he thought. It was something he had discussed with his girlfriend a lot. They had been together for two years and he hated the idea of long distance.

Except that was the plan in her mind. She grew up in Tampa and had no plans on leaving. Ross felt his heart shatter when she said she wouldn’t want to go with him.

Now, here he was staring at the call from the general manager of the Lightning. He took a deep breath as he brought his phone towards his ear. He leaned forward, destined his one arm on his knee.

“Hello?” he let out barely above a whisper.

“Hi Ross, we’ve come to the decision and you’ve been traded to Colorado,” he let out.

Ross nearly laughed. Is that a joke? It was a team that he swore Tampa would never make a trade with.

“Okay, thank you for everything,” he let out, his voice cracking as he spoke.

They shared some more pleasantries before Ross hung up the phone. He slowly leaned back against the couch. He felt like he was just thrown away. Like three years meant nothing.

It wasn’t so bad, a team wanted him. A really good team. A team that beat him in the Stanley Cup finals. The sadness coursing through his veins slowly dissipated as the thought of going to another good time. A great team.

After a few seconds, his phone started to ring again. It was an unfamiliar number and a Denver area code. He took a deep breath as he answered the call. It was the general manager of Colorado.

“Hi Ross, this is Chris MacFarland the general manager of Colorado. How’s it going?” he asked. Ross smiled.

“I’m feeling great,” he let out, a chuckle leaving his throat. He meant it. Hearing the general manager’s voice be excited to talk to him, meant it was a good plan.

“That’s great. We are really excited to have you come to Colorado, we want to get a contract set as soon as possible,” he expressed.

They spoke on the phone for another hour about the aspects of what he would like in a contract and what would be best for both parties. Chris was ecstatic that Ross wanted a longer contract. Ross was happy that he was going to a place that wanted him.

After the hour was complete, Chris offered him a four-year-deal. “I’m going to talk to some of my family but I don’t see how this can’t work. Thank you for this,” Ross expressed.

“Take your time, can’t wait to see you in Colorado,” Chris let out before he hung up the phone.

Ross slowly pulled the phone from his ear, a grin wide on his features. They wanted him. It felt so right and so good to go play for a team that was good and had the chance to lift the cup.

He watched the Avs lift the cup, he wanted to wear the A and lift the cup with them.

A knock rang throughout the apartment, he smiled. “It’s unlocked!” he shouted as he stood up from the couch. Y/N stepped inside, a soft smile on her lips. Ross excitedly walked towards her. He hugged her tightly.

“Good news then?” she let out against his chest.

His smile faltered slightly as he pulled away. He clenched his jaw while he waved his hand back and forth. “Sorta?” he said as he held his hand towards her. She gladly took a hold of it as he guided her towards his couch.

“Oh no,” she mumbled as he rested his hands onto her hips, turning her towards him. She scanned his features, admiring the small smile on his lips.

He was happy. She had to accept that he was content with what was going on. “Where are you heading, my love?” she mumbled as she avoided his gaze. He scanned her features, watching the tears fill her eyes.

He took a deep breath, “Colorado,” he mumbled. Her eyes widened as she let out a dry chuckle. He bit his bottom lip. “That was my reaction too,” he said fighting off a grin. She shook her head as she clenched her jaw.

“They want to sign me for four years, that’s amazing right?” he said as his voice cracked.

She remained silent as she met his light eyes. There was not a hint of sadness in his gaze, it felt like a stab in the chest. How could she let him go alone? She’s never seen snow, maybe now is her chance. Her lips began to quiver as her heart began to beat fast. She blinked as a tear fell onto her cheek.

“I guess we are apartment hunting then?” she mumbled out. His eyes widened as his lips curled upward slowly.

“We?” he asked, hopeful.

She nodded as she continued looking deeply into his light eyes, “I’ve always wanted to see snow,” she mumbled. He smiled so wide as he quickly wrapped his arms around her. She giggled as she pressed her face against his chest, surrounding herself with his cologne. A smell she was afraid she would lose forever.

“You’re coming with me?” he let out as his voice cracked. He was shocked. He had spent several weeks trying to convince her.

“I thought-” she mumbled as she pulled away from his chest. She rested her hands on the base of his neck. He scanned her features. “I thought I would be okay with you going and me staying but-” she paused as she looked into his eyes for a few beats, “I can’t imagine spending years apart,” she let out. He nodded as he leaned towards her, kissing her urgently.

“Are you sure? I-I mean you’ve wanted long distance-” he rambled but Y/N cut him off by kissing him again. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“I want to be with you,” she mumbled against his lips, “Even if it means I have to root for the Avs,” she whispered. He chuckled as he pulled her against his chest.

“You’ll get used to it,” he let out teasingly as he pressed his lips against the side of her head.

#ross colton #ross colton x reader #ross colton imagines #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #colorado avalanche x reader #colorado avalanche imagines #colorado avalanche

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sun-stricken · 3 days

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Hello. I absolutely love your Fairy Tail head-canons, especially about demon slayer Gray. Feel free to take or leave these little ideas. Always love when you post <3

Imagine Team Natsu has to rent a vehicle or something and they require actual legal paperwork like a birth certificate and address or something like that (more than just “guild business! Gonna need this!”). Lucy doesn’t want to rent it because there is no way she’s going to be responsible for the inevitable damage. Erza, being the leader and a good friend volunteers. A few minutes later she comes back out, puzzled.

Erza: “why would they need a birth certificate? Shouldn’t me being present be proof enough of my existence?”

Gray starts snickering in the background. Natsu goes in next but comes out even earlier than Erza, cause at least Erza had a probably legal address at Fairy Hills, Natsu on the other hand lives in a house in the woods.

By the time Wendy goes in the receptionist is exasperated. “Yes I understand you are with Fairy Tail but that isn’t until page three of the paper work. None of you have made it past the first page.”

Gray finds this all very amusing.

Lucy: “Since you find it so amusing why don’t you go register, Gray!?”

Gray: mutters something

Natsu: “What do you mean you’re legally dead?!”

Cause you know, Ur just found a kid (the only survivor) and just decided to keep him. Oh, no official rescue crews didn’t show up until two days later? My kid now :)

The search and rescue teams never found any survivors in Gray’s old town so everyone was pronounced dead. The magic council or whoever is in charge of that stuff is also disorganized enough that no one realized that Gray Fullbuster is both a famous wizard and supposedly dead. So, just, Gray technically being considered legally dead the entire time he was at Fairy Tail.

Also, the slayers all going out on a job together(the dragon slayers had to drag Gray). The job turns out to be a trap (surprise!) and the floor just opens up revealing a giant vehicle.

Dark mage: “Ha-ha! I have bested the dragon slayer! The most powerful mages-“spots Gray just chilling, perfectly fine and not motion sick. “what are you doing?” Cause the guy was planning to capture dragon slayer, not whatever a demon slayer was (the dark mage didn’t even know demon slayers were a thing). Gray defeats the dark mage but holds it over Natsu’s head for a week.

After that anytime a large group of dragon slayers takes a job together they take Gray along for “extra security during transportation” or just extra security in general.

I also head-canon that each type of slayer magic has its own unique weakness. Dragon slayers get severely motion sick. God slayers are claustrophobic. Demon slayers cannot handle sweets. If Gray gets even a whiff of cake or any other dessert his gag reflex acts up and he gets really nauseous and other stuff like that. He of course hid it at first (he was afraid Erza would disown him) but eventually everyone learned about the weakness of demon slayers. Natsu teases him about it but never pushes it too far to the point of accidentally making Gray really sick.

Anyways, sorry for the long ask. Feel free to expand on anything. Always love some good slayer bonding head-canons and just Fairy Tail head-canons in general. <3

This was so much fun to make tbh so domt apologize, i love long asks <3 and thank for for what you said ant my posts! theyre fun to make so im glad ppl enjoy them

Oh, you have no idea how often ive though about Gray being legally dead, my personal favorite scenario is him trying to fix it and prove himself alive but cant

“How the fuck would i know my social security number??? i was eight years old! i had no reason to know!!!”

There was no dna or finger-print records of him or his family so he couldn’t prove it that way either. Apparently, declaring someone born or dead is easier than someone ‘resurrected’. To the law Gray of Isvan is dead and although Gray of Fiore bares similarities, they are two different people.

But ALSO to the law Gray of Fiore doesnt exist bc he has no birth certificate. And while hes adamant, he has no real proof beyond his word he is Gray Fullbuster of Isvan.

So basically, According to the law, Both Gray Fullbuster of Isvan and Fiore are dead and never existed, respectively.

tbh this sounds like an identity crisis waiting to happen, but what else is new with him

Erza probably tried to fix it after she was told bc she legally didnt exist for a minute either (never was filed as a real person, she was able to file for a late birth certificate on account that she wasnt claiming to be a ‘separate’ person and also Makarov did it for her) (dont ask why he didnt for Gray, i like plot holes). But quickly realized their situations were very different, him waiting over a decade to check in as a survivor with the proper authorities definitely weakened his case considering he was running around free before he decided he needed a birth certificate.

But hey, as long as he doesn’t need to rent something, or get a license or id, or work somewhere beyond Fairy Tail, or get married, or, god forbid, die again, he should be fine!

i wonder if he would be considered a ‘john doe’ if he actually died again since they have ‘no’ birth records

This also makes games like ‘two truths and a lie’ amazing

“alright so, im legally dead, i legally dont exist, and ive never physically died before” “Gray what the hell do you mean” “Guess the right one and ill tell you” “WHAT THE HELL DOES THIS MEAN THOUGH??”

i love everything to do with the ‘dragon slayers + gray’ dynamic

‘Extra security’ just turns into Gray babysitting a bunch of rambunctious dragons for hours. seriously, get this guy a reward for how he hasnt killed or maimed any of them yet.

Imagine them trying to convince Gray to walk to their destination instead of taking the train

“Its not that far!!” “its fucking 5 hours by train, How long do you think itll take to walk? Why would even you pick this job if you knew how long the ride would be??” … “nobody looked..” “are you actually serious.” … “oh my fucking god”

and thats the story of how one Demon slayer ended up having to babysit 4 very pitiful looking Fairy Tail Dragon slayers on a train. Dude had to drag them off it once it stopped too.

His side career of ‘Dragon Slayer Babysitter’ only gets harder when they realize holy shit! cold compresses can help nausea! and what do they have? a walking cold compress.

Taking a train trip with them just means second hand nausea AND embarrassment, and absolutely no personal space. A dream come true.

At least he gets to hold it over their heads

Tbh i like the irony of Dragon Slayers being motion sick because, yk, dragons can fly, so my hc for side effects for God Slayers and Demon Slayers were along the same lines

God Slayers being wide open space or flying since Gods are like the epitome of freedom? all knowing and have complete reign over everything, But claustrophobia works so much better for that same reason. It would cause extreme panic and rash decisions

And Demon Slayers was the dark because demons are supposed to be these evil creatures who thrive in the dark n stuff? basically it would send a Demon Slayer into a paranoid spiral.

But sweets being a weakness instead is such a silly thing that im gonna take it and run

Gray never cared for sweets in the first place, gave him a stomachache, but now he has to walk away from Erza mid conversation if she decides to indulge, which is almost everyday. She was absolutely heartbroken and devastated when the weakness was revealed, it was such a dramatic reaction one wouod think she was the one with the new weakness

When Gray pokes fun at Natsus motion sickness he’ll go on about how Gray is gonna have the lamest parties since he cant handle even the smell of sweets, especially cake.

A terrible realization for everyone involved with him, on par with when Gray realized he wouldnt be able to have ice cream comfortably again, thats like a staple for ice mages

heart wrenching, truly

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weenwrites · 2 days

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Optimus, Arcee, and Ratchet

Those 3 with human adult reader who’s homeless? I’m talking no home, lack of money, and I’m assuming that they stay at base the majority of the time. Also, they weren’t born homeless, they said it themselves that they caused it on their own.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Optimus

He explains that you are free to stay at the base if you have nowhere else to go, and if anything it would be much safer for you to remain here than out on the streets. Now that you're under the Autobot's care, he tries to be as accommodating as he can, but for the time being all he was able to find in the storage room was an old couch, a table, and a dusty tv, all of which were presumably from the previous inhabitants of the silo.

The base is very spacious, but the closest area to the restroom was upon the walking platform, and so that platform became your living area for the sake of convenience. However, if you wished for more privacy he offered the first room down the corridor (it is massive and a long way to walk though).

You don't need to worry about Agent Fowler, either. Optimus had already mulled things over with him, and he agreed to allow the bots to let you live there. Fowler even does what he can to provide you with food stamps and provide you healthcare for any disabilities or illnesses you have.

Every now and then he talks to Agent Fowler about you, and he brings up the same topic time and time again, and every time Optimus still receives the same uncertain answer that might as well be a fancy-worded "maybe". Sometimes he receives good news, sometimes there's nothing at all, but Optimus still hasn't lost hope that eventually you'll be given some form of financial aid.

Arcee

She doesn't mind having you around at base 24/7. If anything, it makes her job much more convenient because you're within range most of the time. When you were first allowed to stay at the base full-time, she showed you all the spare rooms, the exits to the base encase of an emergency, and any other rooms you asked to see. Since the base is rather large for someone your size, she recommended staying as close to the main area as possible, or otherwise it could be quite the jog to get around.

As she learned more about you, she has asked about your past from time to time, and however you mean "caused it on your own", she won't push you to explain if it's too sensitive a topic for you to elaborate on, or if you just generally don't wish to, she respects your privacy and she won't press for any more information. And even if you do tell her, she doesn't judge you for it.

She'll offer to be your ride any time you want to go to Jasper for whatever reason, and she tries to stick close to you encase things go south. The more she goes out with you in public, the quicker she is to realize that she sort of deters cops from trying to shoo you away. If you go to food pantries or food banks, she feels guilty that she ends up limiting what you can bring back with you since her alt-mode's not too convenient for transporting things.

Ratchet

He certainly isn't going to butt heads with Optimus about whether you should stay at the base. If you have no home of your own, you're at a bigger risk of being caught by the Decepticons. For the most part he won't have any problem with it, and he leaves you be so long as you don't obstruct his work.

You have your own designated corner in the base, it's the area that the kids currently hang out in, but you were most likely there first. You were also offered other empty areas within the base that would offer you more privacy, but whether you take them or not is up to you.

As much as he'd prefer to stay indoors so he can work productively, if you need to go outside for whatever reason he'll escort you to Jasper. He sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the other cars on the road though, so he still makes a point to swiftly take care of any business you have, as not to attract any unwanted attention to yourselves.

His understanding of human anatomy is very rudimentary and limited, but he's learned enough to be able to understand when something's wrong. And in the event that his own medical knowledge isn't enough to help, he's glossed over the route to the nearest hospital from the base, and he'll be sure to ask Fowler to take care of the expenses later on.

#tfp imagines #tfp headcanons #tfp x reader #tfp optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #tfp arcee #arcee x reader #tfp ratchet #ratcher x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert #weenwrites

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whumpitisthen · 4 months

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hello i am here to ask about your oc grim. i am not zi

Hello not zi i am so excited to introduce you to my rat bastard!

Grim is literally the Grim Reaper. Like actually. He is also a vampire! A very dramatic, thespian, sadistic, scary individual. He likes going on murder sprees. He likes causing problems on purpose and annoying people, as he finds joy in being virtually untouchable by most others on the account of being a deity. He especially likes bothering people who are also powerful and like bullying the weak, but who are not quite powerful enough to talk back and banter with someone who can kill them in a second with the single touch of a finger. Oh yeah, he can kill by merely touching someone, he just enjoys carnage a lot more! It's more challenging and fun to go up one against a thousand, and way more traumatising for those who witness his slaughter in person (Auden. Auden is forever scarred). He does occasionally perform the Kiss of Death i guess, as he is a romantic and simply can't help being slimy and gross about it. A gentle death, all things considered, to die from a kiss

As for appearance, i have been working on a drawing of him, but the issue is that ive worked on it for so long that every time i look at it i hate it more, so its just in perpetual limbo forever. BUT, until i finally post it, i can just describe him!

He has very long silver, near white hair he keeps in a messy ponytail that starts off decent, but gets worse as the day goes on bc hes feral and rabid. He is in all long, flowy black clothing, as he has to stay on theme. Usually a long coat and tall boots, as that is his 'work' outfit (i.e. the stuff he wears to do war and murder and death and crimes) as well as a mask resembling some kind of an Animal's skull. I haven't actually chosen what kind of animal (or maybe i have? I think i landed on a canine skull) but i do actually have some sketches of actual animal skulls i made for ideas that i can show :3

I also thought about having it be like a plague doctor type deal with a bird skull instead but i already have The Doctor (another bastard character of mine), and if anyone, they should have the honor of wearing a mask like that

He also of course has a big heavy scythe, and black tendrils of smoky magic surrounding him when hes extra rabid, which cloaks him and makes him look like the cursed shadow of a dead animal, possibly a hyena if you take into account his unhinged cackling. Only when hes in the mood for killing murder and homicide, otherwise hes mostly shadow magic free

He wears a lot of silver jewellery, which does in fact burn him as he is quite the unholy creature of night; he just doesn't care. If asked about it, hell say its cause he likes how silver looks. (spoiler: the real reason is that he is Absolutely a masochist but you didn't hear that from me, that chapter is still in the works o_o) He has one hand thats just completely charcoal black, and he has black markings running across the skin of his entire body up to his chin, and there are two reasons for that:

When he became the embodiment of death the black magic possessing him cursed/burned him and now he just Looks Like That

I find tattoos incredibly hot, especially covering the neck. Very attractive

Hes also like. A tall guy. For a human hes big lanky tall, like 2 metres (thats around 6'6 apparently) however hes also usually in Hell, and demons can grow to all kinds of insane heights, be it rly tiny or hugely massive. Despite that, even demons triple his height built like a tank and weighing about as much find him to be incredibly unnerving, and instinctually become wary and careful around him. He has that effect on people he's in one room with; some kind of magical aura that causes even the wildest forest around him to become deathly silent upon his arrival. but he's also just kinda. Infamous. Like its hard to find someone who doesn't know who he is, its like trying to find someone in europe or the us whos never heard of jesus or god before. You could maybe find a few people like that, but its very unlikely. So not many walk up to him ready to obliterate him, however much they may want to. He likes looking down on people as much as he likes looking up at massive shit brick houses trying their damnedest to stare him down and assert dominance, not really succeeding. He prides himself on being the most menacing thing around, and not only regarded with fear by the weakest, but also awakening rare terror inside the hearts of the strongest, who aren't used to being on the recieving end of Anything bad. He almost finds it more fun than dunking on those that are already at the bottom of the food chain.

Hes also just a silly goofy guy :) just a silly smiley guy :) its probably why so many interpretations of the grim reaper have a human skull for a head :) its cause hes so silly and so smiley :)

Not Even God Will Be Able To Save You If You Manage To Truly Ruin His Mood :)

And as a last little fun fact, he has a tendency to just. Show Up. Just spawn next to you. Behind you. You could blink and congratulations, suddenly hes in your face and youve died from a heart attack. He just kinda appears, and then hes there. Like imagine youre a big scary demon lord, in a massive mansion, locked behind many walls and doors, guards patrolling every corner, feared by many. you walk into your very safe bedroom, ready to relax. And hes just. there. No one saw him enter. No one will notice when he leaves. Hes just laying on your couch like an asshole, reading your diary. What do you even do about this

You can read about him in Auden's story! He is one of Auden's whumpers! He's gonna be in the forefront in the newest chapter im writing (as well as another surprise mystery guest that will finally be introduced 👀) so be ready for that releasing any time between tomorrow and two weeks from now :-)

#asks #not zi #thank you for letting me talk about this menace #grim oc #auden's story #this got pretty long #real talk i am unironically unsure if this is zi or not zi #you have confused me #but whoever you are i love you!#i promise i will one day post that drawing #it will happen #i will also post at least one drawing of everyone in this story #perhaps multiple....#also feel free to ask more about him or ask more in general #i love asks

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ruvviks · 2 years

Text

Chapter >> 2 [x] Characters >> Ivan Dupoint (oc), Mikhail Koshechkin (oc), Ravager (oc), Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc), a long list of side characters, [redacted] Total >> 9.2k words Warnings >> Blood mention, chess :/, torture mention, violence mention

‘May I come in?’

Vincent patiently waited at the door of the bathroom, knowing it was unlocked yet hesitant to open it himself. He heard the voice of Vitali on the other side, speaking softly to Mikhail; too muffled for Vincent to understand what he was saying, yet still loud enough for him to hear the exhaustion dripping from his words.

It was already far past midnight. Vincent had only just arrived home; he had decided to hang around the office for a little longer, to take care of unfinished business in Vitali’s absence and to give other mercs an update on the situation. Not his brightest idea- he was about as exhausted as the rest of them, battered and bruised from earlier that evening and he had nearly fallen asleep behind the wheel on his way home.

The door carefully opened and Vitali appeared in the doorway. He still wore the same outfit as earlier; though he had taken off his chest armor as well as his holsters, and his dark gray henley had several large blood stains in it and his black cargo pants were covered in water and soap.

‘Hey, baby,’ Vincent quietly said, stepping forward and kissing Vitali on the cheek. He made sure to move slowly, and kept his hands to himself- Vitali was always a little jumpy after combat situations, and especially considering the severity of the one they had found themselves in that day, Vincent knew to watch his footing around him.

‘Thank you for staying behind,’ Vitali mumbled, his eyes closed when Vincent pulled back. ‘I hope they didn’t give you too much trouble.’

‘It’s all good, no worries.’

Partially a lie. Vincent had handled it well, but the entire office had been chaos once again, comparable to the time Vitali’s cargo trucks had been intercepted, or comparable to- well, the attack, of course. Still less so, but exhausting nonetheless.

Vitali glanced over his shoulder and stepped aside, now allowing Vincent to look further into the bathroom; the bathtub shoved against the wall on the left side of the room was occupied by Mikhail, sitting with his back toward the door and his arms and legs pulled close to his body.

It had all happened so fast.

One moment, they had been doing paperwork together during a quiet afternoon at the office. And the next, they had been fighting side by side against a horde of mercenaries and their people, raiding the place like it was nothing but a fucking toy store to them; and to make it even worse, Vitali had been absent at the time, leaving his mercs entirely to their own devices.

But as sudden as the attack had started, it had been over as well. No casualties, only a handful of injuries- yet they had still suffered a loss, as Mikhail had been nowhere to be found.

Vincent slowly walked closer to the bathtub, pulling one of the wooden stools near the sink with him and he sat down next to Mikhail. Said man did not even look up, nor did he flinch when Vincent reached for the tub and checked the water’s temperature with his fingers- the water was hot, yet Mikhail was still visibly shivering.

Vincent had followed them. Had tracked them down all the way to a construction site- one of the Broker’s vantage points, not much to his surprise- but had found it abandoned, and it had remained untouched from that moment on, no longer in use by the fixer’s mercenaries now that Vincent had shown his face around.

He had not been able to find Mikhail. And neither had anyone else.

‘Has he talked yet?’ Vincent asked, glancing at Vitali as he joined him, sitting down on a stool as well with his leg stretched out to the side.

‘Barely.’ Vitali clearly tried his best to hold it together, but the slight tremble in his voice gave him away. ‘Has not even been able to look me in the eyes, yet.’

It hadn’t taken them all too long to find a lead, though; a man by the name of Ravager, ex-Maelstrom, now one of the Broker’s mercenaries- and a fierce one at that. More cyberware than human, and whatever little sliver of humanity he had left in him was just another representation of that.

Vincent reluctantly reached out for Mikhail’s face, stopping the moment Mikhail leaned away from him; his eyes were unfocused when they finally found Vincent’s, and he looked- he looked scared, almost.

‘It’s just me,’ Vincent quietly said, slightly lowering his hand but still holding it close, as if he was waiting for permission to close the distance. He repeated himself in broken Russian, and added- ‘I’m not gonna hurt you.’

Ravager had hurt him. Plenty.

Vincent and Vitali had not heard the full story yet, but Ravager’s factory had already done most of the work; the tools they had found there, the torture rooms and the remains of other people- corpses, though not always entirely in one piece-

Mikhail slightly leaned in to Vincent again and shivered when Vincent’s fingertips collided with his cheek. Vincent softly caressed his skin, until Mikhail closed his eyes. Then, he carefully moved his hand up a bit; there was still some dried up blood covering Mikhail’s forehead, causing strands of his ash blond hair to stick together.

He had been captured for only a few days. Still, it had been too long. Vincent dreaded finding out what Ravager’s people had done to him exactly, and the thought of it all alone already caused his blood to boil.

‘Am I allowed to wash your hair?’ Vincent asked. He knew it was of no use trying to coax Mikhail toward a conversation about his captivity- they would be lucky if he was going to speak at all, both well aware of the fact Mikhail could go mute for days if something terrible had happened, either to him or someone else.

Mikhail nodded- it was barely a nod, but visible enough for Vincent to understand, and he allowed Vincent to gently pull him back a little until his back touched the end of the tub and his head was closer to the water.

They had rescued him just in time. Ravager’s people were exactly like their boss- stripped from all their humanity and in it for the eddies and, above all, a good time- and they clearly did not draw the line at torture and murder.

But it was over, now. Mikhail was back home, safe, and Ravager’s factory had been left behind littered with corpses and a clear message for him, as well as his boss- though Vincent wondered how much the Broker had been involved in all of this, considering how out of place it felt compared to every other attack thus far.

‘None of ‘em came after us,’ Vincent said to Vitali, while he carefully scooped up some water to let it stream through Mikhail’s hair. ‘They left the facility, went elsewhere- probably moved districts, but so far we haven’t been able to pick ‘em up on the radar.’

‘Let’s hope it stays that way,’ Vitali mumbled, his eyes still slowly scanning Mikhail’s features. ‘The further they are away from us, the better.’

His answer surprised Vincent a bit.

Ravager was still alive- they knew, because they had not been able to get to him in time when they had attacked the facility to rescue Mikhail. Of course they didn’t know where he had run off to, yet; but Vitali was not one to just let people walk away, especially if they had hurt one of his loved ones.

What was different this time, then?

‘I think if we wanna strike back we gotta act quickly,’ Vincent continued, knowing his words would probably not be nearly enough to convince Vitali to act; yet he still spoke up, too stubborn to just let the conversation end there.

‘If we can track him down, launch another attack before he gets the opportunity to reorganize- we might be able to, you know-’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

Vitali still spoke gently, despite clearly being exhausted and having little patience left in him; possibly only because Mikhail was still in the room with them, but Vincent was not entirely sure.

‘It’s been chaos for weeks now,’ he quietly said, noticing Vincent’s clenched jaw and reaching out to place a hand on his knee; a gentle reassurance, and Vincent carefully allowed the built-up tension to leave his body.

‘Everyone is tired. We have Mikhail back- we are all safe, now, and I would like for things to stay that way. We can deal with Ravager later, just- right now, I- I would like for us to stay together. You understand?’

Vincent understood.

Vitali was right. Ever since the explosion near the escort, since Vincent’s fight with some mercs, since the cargo delivery went wrong- since Ravager’s raid- the entire office had been upside down. Eddie and Lauren were both still out of commission, the latter only awake for a few days now; and the encounters with the Broker’s mercs they’d had in the meantime had not done the rest of Vitali’s network much good.

Vincent understood- Vitali felt guilty. He had left so briefly, only to return to a mess bigger than anything he had ever had to handle before. Mikhail taken, Vincent on the hunt, mercs injured and their supplies raided and sabotaged- and he had blamed himself for it all.

Vincent understood. But as much as he wanted to answer Vitali-

He said nothing.

Instead, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo and began soaping Mikhail’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as he worked. Mikhail leaned in and rested heavily against the side of the tub to move closer to him, and he exhaled deeply while Vincent brushed his fingers all the way through his hair.

Vitali watched in silence, his hand still on Vincent’s knee. He briefly opened his mouth to speak, but visibly changed his mind- and instead, he just gave Vincent’s leg a soft squeeze and pulled back his hand.

‘How are you feeling?’ Vincent asked Mikhail, a weak attempt at shifting the conversation and not even expecting a reply- though much to his surprise, Mikhail actually responded.

‘I’m tired.’ His voice was barely audible, and hoarse from the amount of screaming he had done earlier that evening. ‘My back hurts. And my head.’

Okay, a horrible attempt at shifting the conversation, then.

Not surprisingly, Mikhail’s words only made Vincent angrier and he tightly gripped the edge of the tub to prevent himself from storming out of the bathroom and leaving home, to go back outside and scour all of Night City to find Ravager and-

‘We can’t just do nothing,’ he promptly said. Instant regret hit him, and he quickly moved his hands back to the water to scoop up some more and rinse Mikhail’s hair.

‘I know.’

Vincent had never heard Vitali sound as defeated as in that moment.

He slightly turned his head to look at him, a painful hesitance in his movements- and the look in Vitali’s eyes instantly made him look away again, unable to tell who the anger in them was meant for.

Vitali was rarely angry. Sure, he could get frustrated at times, but the pure, seething rage Vincent had seen a lot more on him recently had once been an uncommon sight. Thus far, it had not been directed at him, or any of Vitali’s other mercs- at least, he hoped-

But in that moment… Well, it was a little hard to tell.

‘Can I tell you a story?’ Vitali asked, moving a little closer to the tub to lean on the edge with one elbow. He hesitated for a moment, jaw briefly clenching when his eyes met Vincent’s. ‘I- I am not upset with you. I just… I just want to try and explain myself, if that’s alright.’

Vincent unclenched his own jaw, and quickly nodded.

That helps.

‘When I was younger, my brother always got on my nerves,’ Vitali quietly began. He paused and scoffed softly, momentarily glancing at Mikhail. ‘To put it plainly- he was a fucking cunt. And it got… It got bad at times. To the point Mikhail had to step in.’

Vincent looked at Mikhail, who had opened his eyes upon the mention of his name and had managed to force a small smile out of himself. Vincent gently cupped his cheek again and Mikhail instantly leaned in to his touch, resting his head entirely against Vincent’s hand.

‘He never got punished.’ Vitali’s voice faltered for a moment, though he quickly regained his composure. ‘Always got away with everything; mother told me I was old enough to handle myself and I had to stop being a baby about it, and my father- well, I don’t even think he ever even noticed.’

Somehow, a very familiar situation to Vincent- though he knew it was still different, knowing Vitali was the eldest of his siblings and Vincent himself the youngest. They had not shared the same feelings of responsibility; and that still often reflected in their behavior.

‘I dealt with it myself, most of the time. I would find clever ways to make Daniil regret what he did- nothing serious, of course, please don’t take that the wrong way- but someone had to teach him the things he did and said to me were hurtful and unfair.’

‘Did you get punished for that?’ Vincent asked, already knowing how the story was probably going to end.

‘Usually not, no. Only once, actually.’ Vitali shifted on his seat, pausing again as memories momentarily overtook him.

‘I was fed up with his bullshit,’ he said, a shadow washing over his face. ‘Normally I could control myself, but- I lashed out. Screamed at him, told him exactly how I felt- and, well, he started crying. He was told to “man up” by mother, but she also gave me house arrest. For the rest of the month. Was only allowed to leave my room for bathroom visits and dinner.’

‘Dinner?’ Vincent repeated, voice unwillingly a little louder than before. ‘And- breakfast? Lunch?’

Vitali simply shrugged. ‘Not important, apparently. But Mikhail brought food to my window nearly every day. Even my father brought me some, on occasion. But that’s not my point, here.’

He paused again, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he looked back up at Vincent.

‘I lashed out, and suffered direct consequences,’ he said. ‘Had never happened before, because I had always acted clear-headed- except that once. And right now? Everyone is tired. Everyone feels like shit, and I- I don’t think things will turn out the way we want them to if we rush this now.’

Vincent averted his gaze and lowered his hands, a sudden wave of embarrassment rushing through him; Vitali was right, as per usual, and he felt bad having brought any of it up in the first place.

‘We’ll get our revenge, in time,’ Vitali quietly said, reaching out again to gently touch Vincent’s shoulder. ‘But right now, I think we should focus on staying together- all of us. I do not want anyone else to get hurt. Especially the two of you.’

Vincent found himself unable to speak and quickly nodded, the knot in his throat nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

He looked at Mikhail again, and carefully brushed a wet strand of his hair out of his face. Mikhail immediately reacted- but instead of pulling away like Vincent had expected him to do, he leaned in closer until his head rested comfortably against Vincent’s shoulder.

‘Will you stay?’ he quietly asked, his breath shaky against Vincent’s skin. An unexpected question, and Vincent loosely wrapped his arms around Mikhail’s shoulders and neck before responding.

‘Of course,’ he answered, a shiver running down his spine when some water trickled down his neck into his t-shirt. He glanced at Vitali again, and was met with a look of relief- he reached out his hand and took Vitali’s, then pulled him closer to hug him with one arm and plant a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

As much as he wanted to go after Ravager, Vitali made a good point; and Mikhail needed them, both of them, and Vincent knew it was of no use to try and track down the merc himself.

So he stayed.

For a little while, that is.

The poorly lit room was suffocating, weighing down heavily on Vincent’s chest and making it difficult for him to breathe; each raspy exhale scoured the inside of his windpipe and the lack of oxygen kept him in a constant state of near-fainting.

He was bound to a chair, wrists and ankles and waist and neck held in place tightly by metal clasps. His heartbeat painfully thrummed in his side, where he’d been kicked repeatedly earlier that day- no stab wounds or bullet wounds yet, much to his relief, but most definitely a broken bone or two.

Vincent grunted softly as he tried to look up; the instant he did that, the metal clasp around his neck put pressure on his throat and he almost lost his ability to breathe entirely, to the point he quickly dropped his head back when a rush of panic overtook his muscles.

Yes, yes- of course he had not been able to sit still. Had lasted a record period of two days at home before his hands had gotten so itchy he’d just had to get back to work. It was fine, though, he had been allowed to go back to the office; Vitali had been at home as well anyway, to take care of Mikhail.

And at first, Vincent had just helped out around the office, like he had promised Vitali. He’d even spoken with clients- a terrifying experience he really did not want to go through ever again, now with a sudden newfound respect for Vitali on top of the respect he’d already had for him- and he had taken care of some small gigs that hadn’t been closed yet since the Broker had taken the stage.

But it hadn’t stayed at that for long. Of course not.

Vincent was fucking pissed.

Mikhail had barely slept, haunted by nightmares and memories, and he had often woken up screaming and in tears, begging for it all to stop. Vitali had not wanted him to sleep anywhere other than in their bed, so naturally the two of them had also had trouble closing their eyes at night. Vincent hadn’t minded at all- he wanted to be there for his friend, even if that meant losing sleep, but all of it together-

It had only made him angrier than he had already been.

Of course he hadn’t been able to stay put.

Vincent tried to move again, going for his legs this time. He was able to turn his feet slightly, but did not have enough space between his ankles and the metal clasps to pull them free; and his arms were very much dealing with the same issue.

They hadn’t done anything to him. Yet. He’d been brought in after his solo attack on the building- a different facility than before, and it had been hell to track it down- and after putting him in the chair they had left him there, to wait for Ravager’s return.

Ravager.

Vincent shivered by the thought of him. He had only seen him from a distance, a few times; Mikhail’s capture had unfortunately not been his last attack, and he had continued to be a pain in the ass for Vitali’s mercs over the last week or two- and he was terrifying.

Vincent dreaded seeing him up close.

He was no longer sure why he had decided to go on his path of revenge. It was something that he had wanted to do- of course, Mikhail was in pain because of Ravager- but now it just seemed stupid and dumb. He had gone after the guy all by himself; had only asked Judy for help once when he’d had trouble figuring out how her equipment worked, but that was about it.

Normally it was Mikhail who helped Vincent with his dumb suicide missions, sharing about the same level of impulse control and the burning desire to deal with a soluble situation as fast as possible; but now he had been unable to do so, and it had been Vincent alone against all of Ravager’s people. Worst part is, he had actually been doing fairly well; until the explosion, and he’d been blasted off his feet and then kicked down until he had lost consciousness.

Vincent was still unsure why they had not just killed him.

His eyes had finally gotten used to the semi-darkness surrounding him and he took a moment to look around. Apart from the chair, there was not much else to see; dark walls and barely any furniture apart from some lockers, an empty desk and a hospital trolley right on the edge of his peripheral.

In the distance, he could hear a door open. Footsteps followed- two sets of them, slowly but surely approaching the room Vincent was stuck in. His heart jumped and sped up significantly, and he momentarily lost his vision as he gasped for breath.

Please, no- Not yet-

But the door already opened.

Ravager was a tall man with muscular build- though because of the various cybernetic body parts connected to his person it was hard to tell what was muscle and what was machine. His jet black hair was slicked back, framing a face of mostly cyberware; blood red eyes with black sclera, plating covering his temples and the bridge of his nose, and a broad cyberjaw decorating the lower half of his head.

The few bits and pieces of pale white skin he still had looked almost rotten, for some reason. Vincent had not been able to tell before; but he could see it clearly this time round, now that Ravager was standing right beside him, looking down on him with a wide grin on his face- revealing pearly white, sharpened teeth.

‘Well, well, well,’ Ravager said, his raspy voice carrying through the entire room and bouncing off the walls. ‘If it isn’t one of Night City’s most feared mercenaries. Gotta be honest, I still find that a little hard to believe- You are surprisingly small.’

In any other situation, Vincent would have easily been able to come up with a clever response; yet in that moment he found himself frozen in fear, unable to even string together a coherent enough sentence in his head to reply with.

He watched in silence as the other person- Ravager’s right hand man, a skinny guy with almost as much cyberware as his boss- walked around the chair, and placed something on the trolley just out of Vincent’s line of sight. However, he was able to tell by the soft metal clank alone it was probably a handgun.

‘Good job, though- you found me again. Not many would’a been able to pull that one off.’ Ravager walked a little closer and Vincent instinctively flinched when the man patted him on his arm with cold, cybernetic fingers. ‘Clever idea, hacking into the GPS of our scout. Reminded me I gotta take those goddang computers out of the vehicles before I put ‘em back on the road.’

Vincent still could not speak. He was a little unsure why; he had been in similar situations before, many times before, yet for some reason this specific one was getting to him even though nothing had happened yet.

Yet.

That was probably the issue.

The other man handed something to Ravager- a device, similar to the ones Vincent knew were used by the NCPD to identify people with. Ravager held it in front of Vincent’s face, and patiently waited as the screen on his side lit up, accompanied by a bright, red light on the other, blinding Vincent instantly.

‘What are you doing?’ he finally managed to ask. He didn’t even want to know all that bad; but it was nice to have control of his vocal cords again.

‘Scanning you, clearly,’ Ravager simply answered. ‘Just a formality- to get your detes into the system. Saves me the paperwork when we’re done with you.’

Ah. Okay.

Vincent lay unmoving as Ravager continued, knowing it was of no use to attempt and break free- he knew he was better off saving his energy for a better opportunity, and especially considering the fact he still had trouble breathing it was probably in his best interest to just stay as calm as the situation allowed him to.

As calm as the situation allowed him to. Not all that much, at that moment. Ravager had started to hum a tune and scanned Vincent a second time, a hint of a frown taking shape on his face; though it was a little hard to tell, considering he barely had eyebrows anymore.

‘Interesting,’ he mumbled, double-checking the screen then turning it to the other man, who stared at it with a similar look on his face. ‘Picks up a whole second person, for some reason- info’s all jumbled. What’d you do? Illegally download a new fucken’ personality?’

‘You don’t know the half of it,’ Vincent dryly answered.

Hehe. Got ‘em.

‘Well! Problem for later, I guess.’ Ravager stuffed the device away and huffed, for some reason appearing to be a little pissed about it. ‘It was all so much easier with your friend, but- whatever.’

Mikhail.

The mention of him made Vincent’s blood boil again. He had probably been in that position as well- a different facility, a different chair, but tied up exactly like that- with Ravager standing over him like a predator looking at its prey.

‘Oh- Don’t ya worry, we made sure he had a fun time,’ Ravager suddenly said. Vincent looked back up at him; the man had clearly noticed the shadow that had washed over his face, and was staring at him with another lingering, toothy grin.

‘He really didn’t wanna talk, but- that’s fine. We’ve got our ways to make people talk. He dropped some nice info about your fixer- and about you. Stuff we already knew, o’course, so that was unfortunate. The look of guilt on his face was worth it, though.’

None of that was new information to Vincent. Mikhail had already told them about it- once he had been able to speak again. Though he had still been barely comprehensible, sobbing so uncontrollably it had nearly caused both Vitali and Vincent to cry as well; but the information he had told Ravager about them was not nearly as important as his safety and well-being, and of course neither of them had been upset about it.

But still, it got to him. He knew Mikhail felt guilty, but to hear it out of Ravager’s own mouth-

A sudden alarm cut through the room and Vincent flinched, throat tightening painfully when he accidentally lifted his head and the metal clasp around his neck punched the air out of his windpipe. Ravager and his right hand man both jolted up, and shared a somewhat panicked look; but then, triumph washed over Ravager’s face, and he left the room without saying another word.

The other man left as well, and Vincent was alone again; though he hoped it would not be for long, knowing exactly why the alarms were blasting through the facility. A relieved smile took shape on his face and he relaxed in the chair, eyes briefly fluttering shut when he realized soon he wouldn’t be tied down anymore, and he would be reunited with-

He was relieved they had found him so quickly. Finding Mikhail had taken longer, and rescuing him from the building had not been easy either; everything had looked exactly the same and they had needed to travel deep into the factory to even reach him in the first place.

Vincent vividly remembered it, though. How they had moved through the hallways together, losing more and more people the further they traveled- they had to stay behind to fight off Ravager’s men, keeping them busy while Vitali and Vincent continued on. How they had found Mikhail, how he had barely been able to walk, and how he had clung to Vincent so tightly-

Only a few days. Yet still, still, it had been way too long.

Vincent closed his eyes, exhaling shakily as he tried to picture Vitali- he was probably there as well, unable to sit back and let others handle things for him, on his way to Vincent, killing anyone who got in his way-

Should he call out for him? Let him know where he was?

‘I’m here!’ Vincent yelled as loud as he could, not giving it a second thought and slightly moving in the chair as he tried to peek around the door into the hallway. ‘Guys- I’m over here!’

Minutes had gone by. They were probably nearby by now, right? This facility was a lot less confusing than the other one. The room Vincent was being held in was probably essentially right around the corner of the entrance.

Vincent nervously bit the inside of his cheek, listening to the distant sounds of a scuffle. He could hear some screams, and some gunfire- but it was a lot less than he had expected, and the longer he waited the more it seemed to die down until it was no longer audible over the alarms.

There had been alarms last time, too. Louder than these, to the point it had nearly overwhelmed Vincent. But he had been able to hold it together, knowing he’d had a job to do- and he couldn’t afford to lose it before ensuring Mikhail’s safety.

It had taken them some time- but they had found him.

They had found him.

The alarms stopped.

And Vincent was still alone.

They brought him back to the previous facility the next day.

Not much else had happened, other than the failed scan and the brief scuffle with some intruders; Ravager had not shown his face anymore and Vincent had been left alone with his thoughts for most of the day.

That morning had been more eventful, though. Vincent had in fact managed to fall asleep at some point- cold and hungry and exhausted as hell, and even though his night had remained dreamless it had been nice to lose consciousness for a little while, at least.

But he had been woken up with a solid punch to the face and he’d been dragged off the chair, kicked around a bit for the entertainment of whoever had been in the room with him and he’d been blinded and gagged and tied up with ziplock ties and he’d been thrown violently in the back of a car and they had left him there, once again on a constant brink of passing out because of lack of oxygen.

Vincent nearly fell to the floor when he was suddenly pushed forward, mind instantly pulled back to reality and away from the events that had happened earlier that day; he was already there now, walking the same hallways he had ran through while rescuing Mikhail yet this time he had no idea where he was going, and what to expect.

He wasn’t scared. At least, that’s what he was telling himself. And it helped, for the time being- his head was surprisingly clear and he looked around intently, memorizing each turn they took to map out the facility’s layout in his head.

Soon enough they arrived at a door at the end of a hallway. Vincent was yanked back momentarily, and he stood back as two of the people bringing him there exchanged some words in a language he didn’t understand.

And for a moment, he saw an opportunity; it was four against one, but he was fast, and a lot stronger than most people thought he was. He could charge forward, ram the two people into the door- use their bodies as shields while freeing his hands from the ziplock ties- steal their guns and flatline them all before they could hurt him-

But he had no idea what was on the other side of the door. And it was too much of a risk.

So he did not move, and watched as the people opened the door- and they pushed him inside.

The room was bigger than Vincent had expected it to be. It reminded him of an office a little bit; though the desks were all shoved to the side, pushed together underneath the blinded windows on his right. All, except one, standing right in the middle of the room with two chairs adjacent to one another and right on top of the desk stood-

A chessboard?

Though that was not what Vincent’s attention was drawn toward.

On the left of the room, lined up against the wall, sat his friends-

All of them.

Including Mikhail and Vitali.

‘Ah, the star of the show. Welcome!’

Ravager’s voice boomed through the room and Vincent’s head snapped up, watching as the cyborg hopped off one of the desks on the other side of the room and slowly began wandering over, arms spread out and another one of his signature grins plastered on his face.

‘Couldn’t get the party started without you,’ he said. ‘Just a little longer, though- gotta wait for my friend to get here.’ A pause, and he glanced at his watch. ‘Dunno what’s takin’ him so long. Should’a gotten here before you.’

Vincent’s heart was going a million miles an hour. His eyes were drawn back toward his friends- fuck, even Eddie and Lauren were there- and his chest tightened painfully, mind wandering back to the day before, when- when he thought they-

He caught Vitali’s gaze. And Vitali’s eyes widened, mouth opening briefly as if to speak- to explain himself, perhaps, or to ask if Vincent was alright- or maybe just to scold him, to ask him- Why? Why did you leave?

But he closed it again, unspoken words lingering in the distance between them, and he defeatedly lowered his gaze.

He looked ashamed.

Vincent was pushed down into one of the chairs and three of the people who had entered with him joined the others that had already been inside; a small army, almost, presumably to keep Vincent’s friends in check.

The fourth stayed behind, and cut Vincent’s hands free- but then also took out their gun and briefly pushed it against the back of his head as a warning, and he knew the moment he would try something- anything- his blood would paint all the chess pieces in front of him the same color.

His eyes were drawn to his friends again. They did not appear injured; not all too terrible, at least, some scrapes and bruises decorating faces and visible arms and necks. Though all of them looked exhausted, drained from every last ounce of energy in their bodies as they sat there- some on their knees, others leaning against the wall- though all carrying the same defeated look in their eyes.

Vincent clenched his jaw. It felt wrong. So wrong- they had come back for him, and would now suffer the consequences of it all- whatever those were going to be.

Oh, had he just not left- had he just listened to Vitali-

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, V. Never got you anywhere before, won’t get you anywhere this time.

Shut up, Johnny.

Hey, I’m right. You know that.

Of course Vincent knew.

Suddenly, the door behind him opened again, though Vincent was not interested enough to turn around. Ravager, who was standing right beside him at that point, did look up- and grinned again when he noticed who had entered.

‘Ivan! Took you long enough. Come in.’ Ravager glanced at Vincent and tapped him on the shoulder, causing Vincent to flinch. ‘V, meet Ivan Dupoint. Though if I’m not mistaken- you two already know each other.’

Vincent frowned and finally turned his head to look up, his curiosity winning over his fear. He had no idea what to expect; the name did not sound familiar at all, and- not much to his surprise- the man who had entered the room did not look familiar to him either.

Tall, like Ravager, though a tad bit shorter- mostly just because of his hunched posture, and his slightly buckled knees. Short, slicked back hair and a tall forehead, dull gray eyes and a mustache adorning his upper lip- he had facial cyberware similar to Vincent’s, though somewhat asymmetrical and radically out of place in the rest of his face, as if he had attempted to superglue it there himself.

‘Pleased to make your acquaintance?’ Vincent said, the sentence more a question than a statement, and he frowned slightly as he watched Dupoint walk around the desk and sit down opposite of him while unbuttoning the jacket of his slightly too big suit.

‘Or not,’ Ravager mumbled, shrugging and wandering back to the pillar in the middle of the room to lean against it. ‘Fuck if I care, anyway.’

‘No, you were right, Edward,’ Dupoint said, his accent a strange mix of French and a hint of something Scandinavian. ‘We have met before. Curious, though, that V does not remember.’

‘V has had a lot of things on his mind, as of late,’ Vincent dryly said. ‘Please do enlighten me.’

Dupoint glared at him, jaw clenching slightly the moment one of Vincent’s friends snorted- Cato, probably, but Vincent could not check, his gaze still focused solidly on the man opposite of him.

‘Alabaster Whittaker,’ Dupoint plainly said, leaning back into his chair. ‘Rings a bell, perhaps?’

‘Oh- the Zetatech bootlicker? For sure.’ Despite the circumstances, Vincent was only just able to suppress a smile, and he finally turned his head toward his friends. ‘Remind me, boss- What did we call him at the office?’

‘If I am not mistaken you all affectionately nicknamed him “Albie”, at some point,’ Vitali answered, voice still calm and eyes focused straight ahead- though Vincent could tell by the way he clenched his jaw and and held his shoulders just a bit higher than usual, he was also barely holding it together.

‘He was my boss!’ Dupoint sharply said, raising his voice slightly when some light chuckling and snickering filled the room. ‘You stole from him, and- above all- ruined all my precious work. Months and months of calculations and predictions- all gone!’

‘I’m sorry, say what now?’ Vincent cut him off, slightly leaning forward in his seat and immediately- once again- feeling the cold barrel of a gun pressing against the back of his head; though it did not do him much, too confused by the situation to care.

Dupoint clenched his jaw again and leaned in too, face hardened and eyes nearly spitting fire.

‘You knocked over an entire mug of coffee and spilled it all over my laptop,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Whittaker was furious. And fired me on the spot. I lost everything because of you. Everything.’

Vincent sat unmoving, blinking slowly as Dupoint’s words slowly settled in his brain. He felt a strange knot in his chest- a feeling he genuinely could not place, confusion still tightly holding him in a chokehold-

Everything had been leading up to- to this?

‘Well, that’s a little pathetic.’

Judy’s voice shattered the deafening silence and Vincent slowly sank back into his chair, eyes wandering off until they met Judy’s- who appeared just as confused and pissed off as he felt.

‘Is that- Is that why we are all gathered here today?’ Lauren asked. Vincent was relieved to hear her voice; though she still sounded exhausted, and surely this entire situation was not doing her much good.

‘You could have just bought yourself a new laptop, or something,’ Mikhail chimed in now as well, as everyone else quietly started mumbling. ‘Instead of…doing this.’

‘A backup goes a long way,’ Vitali quietly added.

Dupoint opened his mouth to say something, though no sound came out as more insults and remarks were flung his way. Vincent glanced up a little, at Ravager- even he had covered his face with one hand, and was clearly desperately trying to focus on anything other than the scene in front of him.

It was fucking ridiculous.

Vincent genuinely had no idea what to think anymore. Dupoint was not- he was not the man at the top, right? Or was he? If he was, that would be even worse- considering everything that had happened thus far. Had it all been about this?

He looked at Dupoint again and watched him try to silence the small gathering of mercs, stammering and stumbling over his own words without much success-

No, this was not the man at the top. Couldn’t be. Vincent refused to believe it.

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Ravager had finally managed to regain his composure and stepped up, waving a gun around until everyone finally went quiet again.

‘V- You knocked over the man’s coffee,’ Cato quietly whispered, still. ‘How could you?’

‘I mean- I’m sorry, I guess?’ Vincent shared a quick look with Cato- nearly burst into laughter once more- and then turned back to Dupoint. ‘You’re telling me all of this- all of it- is just because I accidentally spilled some coffee on your stupid-’

BANG!

Vincent flinched involuntarily at the gunshot and his teeth clacked together so hard it sent vibrations through his skull. He immediately glanced back at his friends- though none of them appeared hit.

A warning shot.

For now.

‘Not all of it, no,’ Dupoint answered, his voice suddenly surprisingly much in control again. ‘You see, the Broker is in charge here- I am merely here to send a message. From him, to you- or, well…’ He paused, and his gaze wandered off to Vitali. ‘To you, actually.’

Another deafening silence filled the room and Dupoint looked back up at Vincent, a sudden, somewhat creepy smile on his face.

‘Though I thought it would be a great opportunity to make you, V, pay as well. For what you have taken from me. Feels only fair I take something back, no?’

Vincent did not answer.

Dupoint relaxed in his seat and cleared his throat, averting his gaze while pulling up the sleeves of his jacket a bit, and he gestured at the chessboard on the desk in front of them.

‘Today, V, we are going to play a game of chess,’ he said. ‘Fairly simple, I’d think. Do you know how to play?’

Of course Vincent knew how to play. Chess champion back in high school- twice, even. But Dupoint really did not need to know any of that.

‘Sure,’ he shrugged, using all his strength and willpower to keep a straight face. ‘I’m- I’m a quick learner.’

Dupoint stared at him for a moment, and Vincent watched as a sudden twinkle appeared in his eyes and a smile formed on his lips again.

Good.

‘Wonderful! However, there is a catch.’

Ah. Of course there is.

Dupoint reached out toward the board and let his hand hover over Vincent’s pieces. He hummed softly and grabbed one of the pawns, then slowly lifted it up, the bottom of it turned toward Vincent- and the moment he saw what was underneath he felt his throat tighten.

‘Go on, now, don’t be shy- read it,’ Dupoint slowly said, mockery dripping from his voice.

Vincent swallowed heavily, and clenched his jaw before opening his mouth.

‘Cato.’

A brief, but deafening silence fell over the room. Vincent did not dare avert his gaze from the tiny piece of paper taped to the bottom of the pawn.

‘Very good.’ Dupoint placed the pawn back on the board. ‘Now! The rules are simple. We play, one of us wins. You win- nothing is lost. You, your friends, all walk free. For now, that is, of course, “until we meet again” and so on. However, you lose- and each piece I managed to conquer from you, each name taped to the bottom- stays with us. With Ed, specifically. I won’t be staying long.’

‘Don’t-? Don’t call me that,’ Ravager muttered in the background.

‘So- all clear to you, V?’ Dupoint asked, entirely ignoring his colleague and looking back up at Vincent instead. Vincent was unsure how to describe the look on the Frenchman’s face- though the pure triumph and smugness in his eyes made him nauseous.

‘Crystal,’ he answered, eyes unwillingly moving back to his friends for a brief second and he sat up a little straighter, heart suddenly pounding rapidly in his chest once more. ‘White begins. Hit me.’

Even with his knowledge, he was still nervous. Why wouldn’t he be? The stakes were just a tad bit higher this time than merely losing his king- his friends’ lives were on the line now, and Vincent would be lying if he said he still vividly remembered every opening and sequence of moves he had once been taught.

At least they were playing without a timer. Vincent knew he still wouldn’t get all the time in the world, but at least it took away some of the pressure. Sure, there was of course still the cold metal of a gun’s barrel resting comfortably against the back of his head- but that wasn’t new to him.

He watched in silence as Dupoint moved his king’s pawn. A move that told Vincent very little; could be a beginner, could be a pro. Either way, he was going to have to keep up appearances for just a bit longer, his brain still whirring as his muscle memory of the game was only just coming back to him.

Vincent copied Dupoint’s move, putting his own king’s pawn directly against that of his opponent. Dupoint hummed, then moved his knight- and Vincent did the same, making sure to take an extra second to pretend to count the squares before proudly placing it down.

‘Petrov’s Defense,’ Dupoint plainly stated, though for some reason it sounded more like a programmed response rather than an offhand comment. ‘If it was not for the fact you clearly seem to be copying my moves I would’ve believed you actually know what you’re doing.’

‘As I said, quick learner,’ Vincent replied, watching as Dupoint grabbed a second pawn and placed it right next to the one already in the middle of the board. An interesting move; Vincent had not seen that one before.

‘A fully opened center.’ Dupoint paused, raised an eyebrow, and glanced back at Vincent. ‘Do you know what that move is called, V?’

Vincent shrugged, and swallowed his laughter. ‘Dunno. The American Nutcracker?’

A loud snort on his left broke the silence in the room and Dupoint’s head instantly snapped to Vincent’s friends- though it was of no use, as several of them could no longer contain their laughter any longer. Even Vincent had trouble keeping a straight face, and Dupoint was forced to wait until everyone was quiet again before he could continue.

‘Steinitz Attack,’ he said, the tone of his voice slightly less cocky than it had been before. ‘An…aggressive move.’

‘A bold move, if you ask me,’ Vincent answered, a slight tremble in his voice from his once again suppressed laughter.

‘One that gives me an advantage, if you paid any attention at all.’

Dupoint continued to speak, though Vincent was no longer listening to him. His gaze was drawn toward his friends once more- initially to pull a face, or to make a jerk-off motion underneath the table in hopes to draw another quiet snort or some laughter from their lips-

But his eyes caught Vitali. A curious look was plastered on his face; one of his famous stares which always told Vincent he was lost in deep thought, cogs of his brain turning as he pondered whatever was on his mind at the time.

Though now, it was accompanied by a look of recognition.

‘V. Your turn.’

Right. Chess.

A slow setup. Vincent’s mind was elsewhere and he continuously glanced back at his boyfriend, heartbeat suddenly faster again now that he had taken notice of the shift in atmosphere. His distraction soon proved unfortunate- he had not paid enough attention and Dupoint captured one of his pawns without further consequences.

Vincent clenched his jaw as Dupoint slowly flipped the pawn and read the piece of paper taped to its downside.

‘My, my,’ he said, another smile shaping on his face. ‘Thibault. The first of many, I hope.’

‘Kiss my ass, you piece of shit,’ Thibault sneered at him from the sidelines, immediately switching to Canadian French and unleashing a string of swears Vincent only half understood.

The gravity of the situation instantly kicked in again and he was quickly reminded of why he had been so nervous at the start. If Dupoint would win- every captured piece, every captured person- they were going to have to stay.

With Ravager.

And after Mikhail- well, Vincent did not want to find out what he and his people were going to do with them.

He redirected his attention to the board in front of him again. He saw an opportunity; though part of his attack depended entirely on Dupoint’s defense, but given the circumstances it was a risk he was willing to take.

Without hesitation, Vincent captured one of Dupoint’s pawns, clearing half of the center of the board. Dupoint hummed again, and responded by merely moving his bishop- Vincent barely gave him the time to let go of the piece and captured a second pawn, leaving both their kings exposed.

‘Interesting.’

Vincent kept his composure, though his heart was racing in his chest as if he had just ran a marathon. He lowered his hand again, resting it on the edge of the desk as he watched Dupoint think for a few seconds- his hand moved down, and hesitated above his pieces.

He was nervous. Vincent could tell. It was exactly what he had hoped for- by making his own moves as quickly as possible, he was attempting to put more pressure on his opponent. And by the looks of it, he had succeeded at that.

Dupoint finally moved his hand down. He grabbed his king, and moved it one square, to slowly but surely move it back behind his other pieces.

And in response, Vincent castled- rook and king swapping positions, his rook now lined up directly with Dupoint’s king. His eyes slowly moved up, until they met those of his opponent-

‘Check.’

Silence fell over the room as suddenly everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Vincent leaned back in his chair, pushing his head closer against the gun- and as much as he wanted to crack a triumphant smile, he instead kept his composure, eyes piercing straight through Dupoint as he stared him down.

‘Is that allowed?’ Ravager suddenly asked. He had wandered a little closer now that the game had finally started, and for a split second he sounded like a whole different person to Vincent.

‘It is, yes,’ Dupoint mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on his seat. ‘Interesting move, V.’

His change in demeanor was exactly what Vincent had been aiming for.

He was not a professional at the game; but neither was Dupoint. Vincent could tell by the way his eyes shifted across the board, darting from piece to piece as he visibly went over every possible move in his head. An analyst at heart- calculating and cautious, with a decent memory as well, Vincent presumed. Though he knew very well that doing everything by the book was not going to get you very far-

Not in Night City, of all fucking places.

And oh, how Dupoint was desperately trying to hold on to his strategy. Whatever sequences he had planned on, Vincent easily managed to throw him off his rhythm with nearly every move he made. He lost more pieces- Shiro, and Panam- then Huxley, and Eddie- but it did not matter. The path was already clear to him.

Check, check, check-

Constantly locking Dupoint in tight positions, attempt after attempt to force his king into a corner. Pawns were advancing to Vincent’s half of the board, but he ignored them largely- nearly every important player of Dupoint’s little army was already down, leaving him without his defenses in the endgame.

Vincent just had to be quicker, that’s all-

‘Check.’

Oops.

Vincent blinked and snapped out of his trance, a little confused by what had just happened. His eyes trailed the board- and suddenly he noticed his own king, locked between several pieces, with one opening only-

And Dupoint’s bishop was solidly blocking his only way out.

Vincent exhaled sharply. Not over yet- there was still a way out for him, though he was unable to move his king into any direction. He clenched his fist under the table when his eyes finally landed on his queen, and he realized the only way to save himself was by-

Do it.

Vincent swallowed heavily and moved his queen, and captured Dupoint’s bishop. And without hesitation, Dupoint captured the queen with his own pawn.

‘Ah, yes- sacrifices, sacrifices,’ he sighed, twirling the piece around and shooting Vincent a small smile before reading the paper on the bottom. ‘Hmm… Mikhail. Round two, I suppose. Ed, go easy on him this time, yes? We don’t want any casualties. Not least, at least.’

Vincent felt his blood begin to boil once more and he exhaled sharply, jaw clenching tightly when he noticed Vitali bolt forward out of the corner of his eye- he was grabbed by two of Ravager’s people and dragged back in his place violently, and one of them pressed a gun against his head.

His eyes briefly moved to Mikhail, sitting between Panam and Cato, knees pulled to his chest and head resting heavily on Cato’s shoulder as he stared straight ahead- no longer scared, no longer angry-

Just tired. He looked so fucking tired.

Vincent turned back to the board, fighting the urge to leap over the desk and strangle Dupoint with his bare hands- unarm Ravager and kill him with his own gun- emptying the entire clip in his chest before landing the finishing blow, just to make him suffer as much as possible before his heart would give out-

The rook.

Vincent had moved his queen. His rook had been beside it- and now securely guarded the entire row, locking Dupoint’s king in the back. And Dupoint had captured Vincent’s queen- and with that, he had moved his pawn out of the way-

Vincent reached for his second rook, entirely left untouched thus far, and moved it all the way to the other end of the chessboard, locking Dupoint’s king in its place. He leaned back in his seat, a smile finally breaking through his facade, and tilted his head upward ever so slightly, spitting the word out with a venomous sting-

‘Checkmate.’

#nuclearwriting #rbs much appreciated :) <3 #bit long innit! sorry about that LMFAO #anyway here it is. my magnum opus [lie]#do not look too deep into the chess thing i was fighting for my life trying to write something coherent okay ;w; i tried #having a lot of thoughts about this one so i'll be annoying with the self rbs #as always feel free to send asks if you feel like it i love talking about. well. anything LMFAO #but god. vincent. augh. my boy!!!!!! he's so smart!!!!!!! I LOVE HIM #THIS is why i need to write about him more he is so so special. in general. but also to me #but vitali and mikhail kinda stole his spotlight :( my fault entirely but still :(#anyway the continuation of this is gonna be interesting because i already wrote the fic but i'll make a post about that soon!!!#ch:the broker

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fromevertonow · 6 months

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Suzanne Collins is one of the few contemporary writers who realizes the importance of names in her stories and the significance they bear. They add so many layers to the story, additional meanings that otherwise would not have existed.

The original trilogy:

Katniss: named after a plant of which you can eat the roots. Her father taught her where to find it and told her that “as long as you can find yourself, you’ll survive” (quote may be a little bit off, but it’s from one of the early chapters in THG). Additionally, the leaves are in the shape of an arrowhead, referencing her skills with the bow which her father also taught her how to use.

Peeta: literally bread lmao. But bread is one of the basic nutritions humans need, a little bit goes a long way to keep you alive. Peeta’s presence in Katniss’s life also kept her alive, literally and figuratively—the burned bread he threw her in the flashback and their complicated relationship.

Primrose: a plant with medicinal purposes, even more significant in light of her work as a medic in Mockingjay.

Gale: literally means “strong wind” and considering that in every encounter with Katniss he’s caused some reaction, he pulls her into directions she maybe initially doesn’t want to go in. Additionally, his name also represents his determination and steadfastness in his beliefs.

TBOSAS

Lucy Gray: named after William Wordsworth’s poem “Lucy Gray” which is about the titular character of the poem who got lost during a blizzard. She literally got lost in snow. Rachel Zegler sang this poem in two parts on the original soundtrack of the movie. When Snow asked who the girl in the song is, Lucy answers that she’s a mystery, just like her.

Snow: aside from the obvious snow references, I think his name is most significant in relation to Lucy and the poem. The only one who knows what caused her disappearance is Snow. He is the reason that Lucy is gone. But her traces in the snow are still visible. He will always remember her because the memory of Lucy has manifested itself in every part of his life.

Coriolanus: named after the Roman general (and also the titular character of Shakespeare’s play), Coriolanus wanted to attack Rome and become its ruler. He was scorned and celebrated by the people, only to be later exiled from the city by them. In TBOSAS, Coriolanus is the star pupil at the Capitol’s academy but sent into exile to the districts after he won the Games with Lucy through cheating.

Volumnia: Coriolanus mother who played a part in his ascent to power. In TBOSAS, she almost serves like a mentor to Coriolanus, teaching him how to think in terms of power.

(Edit) Sejanus: a roman soldier who was betrayed by the roman emperor Tiberius, just like the future president betrayed him.

(Edit) Plinth: got this info from here, but it was too good not to include here. A plinth is a base for a statue or vase to stand on. After Sejanus’s death, all of the Plinth fortune was given to Snow for being such a good to friend him. It was this money that skyrocketed the Snow family from poverty to filthy rich. The Plinth money was the foundation upon which Snow built his power.

There are so many other names that have historical (mostly Roman and Greek) connotations—Plutarch, Seneca, Cinna—but also regular names like Trinket and Beetee bear meanings that represent the character beautifully.

Names are important. For any lover of literature or (aspiring) writers, please look closely at them. They can shape your story into something unique.

Feel free to correct me if I’ve said something wrong. I know there are many names missing, but I can only add so many examples ✊🏻😔

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #gale hawthorne #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #suzanne collins #literature

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

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Astarion Jealousy Part 2

The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.

CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers

It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions.

He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.

Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself.

All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many.

But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you.

It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped.

On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.

He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”

Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it.

Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”

Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake.

“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”

“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”

He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one.

“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”

“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”

His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”

It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."

“But-”

“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”

Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something.

He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”

“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”

You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze.

Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it.

“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting.

And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him.

You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.

He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed.

He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”

He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes.

You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”

“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”

You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.

It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous.

Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.

He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.

He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.

You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.

You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason.

He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"

A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.

“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?”

"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.

Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.”

You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”

Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?

Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."

You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”

But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."

You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”

Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”

It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances.

But what about your lives were normal?

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #long fic #spoilers #and thats how later astarion found himself on stage with a killer clown #whoops #still fluffy i'd say #I got a soft (in comparison to cough alternatives) jealousy trilogy in mind so one more dirty part. Also #side note #in reality everyone in your party is attractive and probably gets flirted with an equal amount at the caress #but I love the idea of astarion being hyper focused on you.

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bountydroid · 24 days

Text

Jealousy

Request: Can I please request a Cooper x Fem reader comfort angst romance where the sweet reader is infatuated with Cooper (she has a thing for older men)The sweet reader is always doing unnecessary favors for him, like secretly giving him discounts on rad away and supplies, taking care of dog meat, and getting him information on bounties. Until he brings along Lucy, misunderstanding the whole situation, the reader’s heart breaks thinking the worst and slowly stops trying and acting cold and distant, making Cooper notice that the only tolerable person he has ever known in this god forsaken world is ignoring him. (Feel free to add or change anything just pls feed into my delusions😭 I just want some hardcore romance with our cowboy) Also can u pls add that the reader also has a cute southern accent?

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader

Description: As a wandering trader, you've made a lot of strange friends. Among them, Ghouls, but there is one in particular that is your favorite.

Notes: I hope I did this justice for you anon!

The Wasteland was brutal, and even you knew it was a bad idea to trek it alone, but you had a job to do. However, as you found yourself in front of your old friend Roger's home you felt like the Wastelands weren't all that bad.

"My name.. is Roger." You heard him repeating between snarls.

You stopped in your tracks outside the door. "He's turning," You thought to yourself as you rummaged through your pack looking for any vials of Radaway. You were all out. Sighing, you put your hand on your holster before slowly making your way inside to check on your friend.

"Rog?" You ask as you round the corner to find him sitting in the dirt.

"Oh hey," he said relieved. "My savior. Do you have any vials"

"I don't have any, Rog." You replied sadly.

"Oh." He whispered. "You should probably get out of here then. It's not safe for little girls like you to be in the Wastelands alone." He said sadly, leaving out the bit you both knew, you weren't safe with HIM alone.

Before you could respond, you heard quiet footsteps down the corridor. "Who else is here?" You thought to yourself as your hand went back to your holster. Peaking your head around the corner you find none other than Cooper Howard and... a vaultie? You did very little to hide the confusion on your face as you looked between the two.

"Hey, you." You said to Cooper. "What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, sweetheart." He responds, pushing the vaultie through the doorway and making his way to Roger.

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." Rogers laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feeling?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh.. you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got a smoothie of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie.

You also turn to look at the vaultie, a look of displeasure on your face. "A smoothie of your own." Repeating over and over in your head. You wanted to be his smoothie. You and Cooper never really started a relationship, but you thought you were heading in that direction. You gave him a generous discount on Radaway since you developed a little crush on him, and he would always spend more time than necessary with you whenever you crossed paths. He was always fussing after you and was always telling you how you were too reckless. In his eyes, everything was too dangerous for you. He knew how you felt about him, and you THOUGHT you knew how he felt about you, but this vaultie threw a wrench in everything. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't like me." You thought to yourself while eyeing her up. You were so lost in thought that you could barely hear Roger snarling next to you.

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Y/n is all out."

Cooper's eyes met yours as you nodded your head sadly.

"Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking back toward his friend.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and y/n and your smooth-faced friend, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

You flinch as you hear Roger snarl again, each time he was getting louder and louder. You look down at your feet with tears in your eyes.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said looking between you and Cooper, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started Wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

Roger laughed, a real laugh. He was happy. "Apple Pie is not nearly as sweet as young Y/n's southern accent though." He says smiling up at you. "You know, my mom used to -"

Before you knew what happened, Roger's brains were all over the wall. You looked up at Cooper with tears in your eyes. You knew it had to be done. You knew it was mercy, but it still hurt.

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked. "He was sick."

"He wasn't gonna get better." You responded dryly.

"You usually don't go all the way out here sweetheart, not on your own. What are you up to?" Cooper asks you as he picks up Roger's body and places it in a position where he easily access what he needs.

You don't respond. Between the jealousy brewing in your stomach at the vaultie next to you and the sadness about Roger, you couldn't find the words you wanted to say.

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

Before he could respond you quickly made your way out of the building for some fresh air. You could hear their voices inside, but you decided to drown them out by humming to yourself. You didn't need to see him take apart Roger, and you definitely couldn't stand the sound of her voice any longer. You knew you should get walking, you were low on supplies and they would be leaving the building soon. You didn't want to face them again, but it felt like there were bricks in your boots. As exhaustion hit you, you sat down in the sand and closed your eyes, losing track of time.

"Hey," You hear Cooper say as he puts his hand on your shoulder. "You good, sweetheart?"

'Fine." You mumbled out. "You and your smoothie should get going." The venom in your voice was loud and clear, but you didn't care.

"That's what got ya panties in a bunch?" Cooper laughed.

You glared up at him in response. "Don't laugh at me, Cooper."

"I am taking her to SuperDuperMart. Not keepin’ her as a pet.” Cooper smiles as he offers you his hand.

"Oh," You responded quietly, feeling stupid.

"What is SuperDuperMart?" You heard the vaultie ask, but the two of you completely ignored her.

"No one could ever replace you, sweetheart," Cooper says as he cups your face.

You couldn't help the smile that graced your face at his words, and the blush that creeped up your neck.

He smiled when he noticed the way your eyes flickered towards his lips.

"When I get my hands on some Radaway, I'll show you just how much you mean to me." You whispered.

"Lookin' forward to it." He whispered back.

The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn't even notice the look of pure disgust on the vaultie's face as she watched your interaction. Some people may never understand why you like Cooper so much, but honestly? You couldn't give a damn.

Tag list: @sitkafay

#the ghoul fallout #fallout tv series #fallout #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard

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