#the brain weasels are not cooperating
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hey y'all! I'm looking for some stuffed animal suggestions. I'm kinda stuck in quilt mode and I want to like force switch to plushies* but the inspiration isn't switching
I'm hoping if I hear a plushie idea that I am like "oh I HAVE to make this" like I did with the giant octopus I can get myself to switch to plushies again?
*I aggravated my ribs a bit and want to work on something smaller and lighter than a quilt for a while. I'm okay, it'll just heal faster if I take at least a few days off of quilts
#the person behind the yarn#the brain weasels are not cooperating#apparently when I activate turbo quilting mode to finish three and a half baby quilts in a week#it is hard to turn off turbo quilting mode#maybe a hippo???#because a friend of mine wants a hippo#but she wants a quadrupedal hippo and honestly I don't make that many quadrupeds#I can I just don't very often?#hmmmm#maybe a kitten#maybe a flying pig#the options are endless and none of them are really grabbing me yet
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Truly cursed with oc thoughts and if I want stuff about them I have to make it T_T
#brain weasels are having a time on this particular running wheel#am i writing little stories for my dnd character? maybe what of it xD#drawing wasn't cooperating but words are. more or less
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{out of dalmasca} Okay, so I maaay have spent most of my night writing those two meta posts, haha. And now the internet has been screwing me for hours, cutting in and out constantly while I’m trying to work on replies. It’s almost 6AM, so I think I’m just going to call it a night and try again tomorrow. I’m fairly busy tomorrow, but I’ll make time to write somehow because I have so much muse and I wanted to get so much more done today than I did.
Also........ I will be adding Noah as an alternate muse to this blog, just as soon as I can get info and verses posts up for him. So. Yeah. That’s a thing that’s happening apparently. XD
#{ out of dalmasca } ᵒᵒᶜ#{i'm so frustrated because the muses are so strong}#{but i had to work during the day and then out came those metas from my brain haha}#{and then the internet failed me}#{life is just not cooperating with me here XD}#{also Noah has been screaming at me lately}#{he thinks it's completely unacceptable that Basch has an outlet here and he doesn't}#{so guess who else is weaseling their way onto poor Basch's blog after Ashelia already did it some time ago? XD}
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songbird
the ghoul x f!reader
summary: you used to be a singer in your vault - that skill comes in handy when you least expect it, and least want to use it. but who are you to say no when cooper tells you to sing for him?
wc: 5.7k
warnings: swearing, talk of murder, blood, alcohol, gun violence, sexual tension, smut, fingering, p in v sex, biting, possessive sex, possessive cooper
You had to admit - if you and your companion didn't find shelter soon, one of you was going to drop and the other wouldn't hesitate to feast on what was left.
The deserts of the Wasteland were harsh - you had known that the moment you stepped out of your vault those months ago and you had been faced with nothing but a searing sun, sand that got stuck places it shouldn't have, and creatures and fellow people alike who would risk it all simply for a quick grab at the pack on your back. But it seemed like this past week, God or Satan or whoever the fuck was controlling this shitshow of a world was in a bad mood. The heat was unbearable, even at night when the chilly winds should have weaseled their way beneath your vault suit and cooled your burning skin. Creatures mutated by the long-settled radiation were feeling the anger of the wasteland, as well, charging without warning or provocation. To top off a less than perfect week, your water supply had run out yesterday, and unless the skies opened up and released a storm of rad-infested hail upon your head, you weren't sure you would find any more before you keeled over and kicked it.
Struggling to plant your feet stable in the mounds of sand beneath you as you made your way between the shells of buildings that had once stood tall and proud, you glanced over your shoulder at your companion. Cooper was better adapted for this kind of environment than you were, what with his hardened skin and the wide brim of his hat shielding his face, but even he looked worse for wear. When he picked up his head, seeming to feel your eyes on him, you quickly averted your gaze and set your attention back on moving one foot in front of the other.
"Fuck're you lookin' at?" he said, his voice raspy as he called out through the dry air.
"Nothing," you snipped back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of facing him again. "Just wondering if I'm going to have to carry you the rest of the way, asshole."
The heat was making you both snappy - you hated it.
Your first meeting with Cooper hadn't gone smoothly. Hell, your second or third hadn't, either. You weren't exactly sure when you had fallen into a more comfortable presence around one another, but it sure as shit hadn't happened overnight. You'd been only half a day fresh from your vault when you'd seen him scavenging madly over a mess of bodies he'd dropped where they stood, searching for a number of vials kept in their pockets that he let drip into his open mouth like a fountain of youth. When you had called out a friendly hello to him, he'd nearly shot your brains out. Cooper had taken in your shocked expression - as you'd clearly never seen a ghoul before - as well as the stark blue of your vault suit and the pack over your shoulders, then promptly told you to scoot your ass back around to wherever the hell you had come from. Of course, you hadn't. You'd followed him from a distance, watching as he'd picked his way across the dusty sands until he'd wrangled you with the lasso at his hip, told you to fuck right off, and left you tied to a number of old pipes in the basement of a nearly collapsed building.
A day later, you'd tracked his footprints in the sand to a little settlement, where you hadn't ducked away quick enough to avoid his gaze. He'd threatened to blow your brains out if he caught you following him again. He'd only half-delivered on that promise when, not ten hours later, he'd planted a fist-sized hole in the skull of a raider attempting to cut your throat for the Pip-Boy affixed to your wrist.
From then on, he'd simply chosen to ignore you as you followed behind him like a lost dog, intent on staying with the biggest, baddest wolf in the yard. After a week, he'd tossed you a part of his rations. A week after that, he'd - not too gently - invited you to sit at the campfire with him when he saw you shivering beneath your thin, vault-issued blanket a good few yards away.
Somewhere along the way you'd started to talk. Started to share - at least, you had. Cooper had simply tucked his hat over his eyes and pretended not to listen while you rattled about this and that until he physically couldn't take it anymore and told you to go the fuck to sleep.
These months later, having accompanied him all this time, you didn't hesitate to call him a friend. Maybe something more, if you let the ache between your legs when you looked at him speak for you, but you knew it was a fantasy and nothing more, so you decided to stick with 'friend.'
Back in the present, you swallowed and winced when your throat barked with a bout of pain in response. You didn't think you'd make it another mile, let alone five, which was how far Cooper claimed the nearest town was. Despite the months you'd spent adapting out here to the wastelands, you were still attempting to cope with the hardships that came with it. Vault life wasn't anything like this; there was always water to drink, beds to sleep in. Cool air to bask in when it got just the slightest bit too hot. Of course, you didn't voice these complains to your companion. If you did, you had no doubt he'd tell you to shut the fuck up and deal with it.
Just as you were about to ask if you could take a short break and get away from the harsh sun beating on your back like repeated blows from a red-hot hammer, a gloved hand wrapped around your arm and held you in place. You jerked to a stop, nearly falling back on your ass as Cooper held you where you stood. You prepared a strongly-worded question as to just what he was doing before you followed his gaze downward, to where a small handful of pairs of footprints traveled perpendicular to yours. Together, you tilted your heads to the left where the foreign prints were headed, and it was there you found a small slope leading downward into what may have once been a shopping mall. From where you stood, you were able to see that the glass dome around the center of the mall had been shattered, letting out the gentle sound of music and human hollers.
You exchanged a look with Cooper, each of you sunken from the iron-fisted heat weighing you down, then slid down the sandy slope after him when he took off toward the shopping mall.
If there was one thing you had learned about Cooper since planting yourself at his side and refusing to leave, it was that he valued silence above almost everything else. You, on the other hand, had come from a talkative vault, where gossip reached every end of every chamber only an hour - at max - after anything noteworthy had happened. Your companion had once called you the biggest yap he'd ever heard, and you would have taken it for a compliment had he not told you to shove it a moment after. The two of you had been silent nearly the entire day now, save for a few venomous barks at each other, and you cleared your scratchy throat in an attempt to lighten your shitty moods.
"I used to read about shopping malls in the magazines," you said, leaning your weight backwards as the sandy slope shifted downward. "They had all kinds of stores inside."
"Thanks for the reminder," Cooper bit back, quickening his stride. "Would have fuckin' forgot without you here."
You let your eyes roll into the back of your head as you struggled to catch up to him, your boots digging into the uneven earth beneath you. "When I was a kid, a few of my friends and I would draw pictures of clothes - because, you know, we only had our suits - and then spread them across one of our rooms and pretend to shop. It was stupid, but it we made entertainment where we could."
"Now, was this before you started pretending to be Billie Holliday?"
You gave him a sideways glance. "Who's that?"
Cooper shook his head and took off ahead of you. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."
During one of your, as your companion called them, yap sessions, you had confided in him that your vault valued the arts above anything else. Since you were a child, they had encouraged you to find something you enjoyed, as long as you were able to call yourself an artist. Painting hadn't worked out too well. Writing had been a bust. But then you'd discovered singing - a way in which you were able to express yourself without actually saying how you felt. You could drape the tunes in metaphors and similes, bump the second verse from the first, and when you were done, everyone would get to their feet to applaud as if your songs were the best things they'd ever heard. Cooper hadn't expressed much interest in this, instead taking to calling you a songbird with her wings clipped when he deemed you were at your lowest and needed to be kicked while you were down.
Of course, you hadn't shown him - you would have to be long dead for that - but over the course of the few months you'd known him, you had confided in your notebook carried in your pack all the little things you'd come up with that complimented his persona. How the gold at his heels called for you with each step he took. The way his hands, encased behind leather that creaked, held a smoke so delicately you could have imagined it was you. The rasping curl of his words when he smiled while he spoke and how each word cast a spell that made you want to follow him until the sun exploded and the earth was gone.
Cooper was an enigma you couldn't help but wonder after, and every scrap of himself he tossed to you led you on like a dog on a leash.
The music and echoing sound of laughter from deep inside the shopping mall became louder as the pair of you approached, eyes scanning for snipers on the roof or guards posted at the busted-out windows. There wasn't a person in sight, only mannequins stripped of their clothing hanging out the openings and long-shredded posters clinging to broken glass. Cooper led the way inside, picking a path across the wreckage and rubble stacked haphazardly against the entrance. You felt your pulse tick up when he produced his gun from the worn holster at his side, tapping his trigger finger against the side of the firearm in time with the music winding its way down the wide corridors.
As you followed your companion through the shopping mall, you couldn't help but ogle at the numerous attractions you passed. Shops had been boarded up and torn open again, giving you a glimpse of tattered clothes still on hangers, books tipped over on shelves, pre-war machines behind display cases that were covered in two hundred years' worth of dirt and grime. Gang signs and dirty catchphrases had been spraypainted along the walls and windows in a rainbow of colors. In the center of the long aisle you were wandering, a carousel meant for children sat neglected, still fitted with cartoonish horses who had seen better days than these.
"Did you used to come to these often?" you asked as you stepped across a mannequin missing its head.
"Shut the fuck up for a minute." Cooper raised a hand to pair with his little spat, silencing you from asking any further questions. His tongue darted out between his cracked lips as he placed his steps carefully around shattered glass and wind-up toys that would declare your position to the entire mall. He led you around a few wide corners before coming to a stop behind an old escalator, motioning for you to take cover. You crouched to peer around the other side, pulling your bag strap tighter over your shoulder. You were met with a sight that made your lips part in wonder.
Made up in the center of the mall's large atrium, directly beneath where the glass dome had been broken out, a small encampment of people had established what looked like a tiny town. Tents rested just inside nearby shop windows and winking Christmas lights had been strung above their heads. Lanterns cast shadows along the faces of the camp's locals as they milled back and forth, sharing dinners, reading from books - and dancing. Booming from a solar-powered stereo was a symphony of fiddles and guitars, harmonies of trumpets and clapping in time with the beat. A woman's tinny voice came through the speakers and she reminisced about an old lover who had gotten away. As you watched the people dance and stamp their feet along with the music, you found yourself drumming your fingers along, as well.
You were so engrossed in the music that you nearly missed what Cooper had his watchful eye on; the fridge-sized container with several spigots on its sides marked with a large piece of paper that read 'Clean Water.'
You and Cooper ducked back behind the escalator.
"Bunch of fuckin' idiots," said Cooper as he pulled a red-capped round from his bandolier and loaded it into his gun's chamber. "That shit'll attract every goddamn raider and feral within the mile."
"They're just having fun," you said, unsure of why you felt so defensive of these people you didn't even know. Maybe it was because they reminded you of your fellow vault dwellers back home. There had been a dance or performance like this nearly every night.
Cooper scoffed. "Fun like this gets you killed, little lady."
Your eyes widened as you watched him pull back the hammer of his firearm. "You're not going to just go up there and start shooting, are you?" You knew for a fact that he would. You'd seen him do it before - draw his pistol and start spinning the trigger because a raider or flock of ferals had what he wanted. But this - this was something different. Before he could do anything more, you reached out and grabbed his upper arm in a grasp so tight your knuckles paled. He flashed you a dark, dangerous look from beneath the brim of his hat, but you refused to let go. "Cooper, these people are innocent. They haven't done anything to us."
"Listen here, dollface, and listen well," he said, quickly spinning you around so that your back was pressed against the escalator. He caged you in, his gun hand still in your grasp and his other arm propped against the wall beside your head. You tried your damndest to not flush when you felt his breath on you, when his hips came just inches from pressing up against yours. "If we're goin' to be carryin' on this little arrangement, you need to learn to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut when I tell you to shut it. Now, I know you vaulties think everyone and their mama is goin' to repay that silly kindness of yours, but do not be mistaken. Keep yappin' and I will drink my fill of that there water while I make you watch, and then I'll tip the rest of it onto the floor. You hear me?"
You were at a loss for words, your tongue dry and your knees beginning to feel wobbly from the lack of water and proper rest. Just when you were about to let your eyes fall back down and accept that he was going to clear out the settlement for their water, footsteps echoed past where the two of you stood. Cooper snapped around and raised his pistol, his other arm still caging you in, and aimed down the barrel at a few young men approaching the rest of the locals beneath the glass dome. Instead of yelling, instead of dropping their belongings and begging for their lives while they pissed their pants in the presence of a ghoul, the men waved and smiled friendly grins.
"No need to hide," one said, gesturing the pair of you toward the others. "Y'all are welcome to come and make yourselves cozy. The more the merrier!"
They continued on, greeted by the other locals with shouts of welcome backs and fond hugs, paying no mind to the wide eyes and parted lips of you and your companion. Breaking away from Cooper's little cage he had created with himself and the wall - as much as it pained you to - you peeked back around the escalator. The young men pointed your way, and a number of people waved in kind and beckoned you forward. You found yourself taking a few steps toward the inviting sight of fresh water and the smell of food being cooked over one of the fires when Cooper snagged you by the back of your suit's collar and pulled you back into cover.
"Where on this good green earth you think you're goin'?" he said in a hushed tone, bringing your face close to his with a commanding grip on your jaw. Another flutter of excitement, of blood rush, bubbled to life in the pit of your stomach and began to travel south, but you suppressed the urge to lean into his touch. You didn't pull away, either.
"They invited us," you said, your eyes wandering back over to the light flickering from the lanterns and fires. "It's rude to turn down an invitation."
Cooper harrumphed and released you a little harsher than necessary. "What you've got is a one-way ticket to bein' on tomorrow's menu, sweetheart," he said, tilting his head to follow your gaze and keep eye contact when you looked away. "If you've about had your fill of the real world up here topside, then be my guest. Go and let'em fatten you up. I'll pour one out for 'ya tonight."
Deciding not to wonder if he would actually pour one out for you, if you really meant that much, you scoffed and shook your head. "You know it's okay to let your guard down every once in a while. Smile, maybe? Wave back? No wonder you're so damn bitter, old man."
Cooper stared down at you, and you wondered briefly if he was considering slamming your head into the side of the escalator. Would he drag you away with him, you thought? Or would he leave you for the strangers just around the corner. After what seemed an eternity, he hummed a short little note and nodded his head toward the camp. "You want to play friends, little lady? Go ahead. See how far that gets you before I've got to turn around and put one between the eyes of a man who's not lookin' just for the sake of lookin'."
With the faintest hint of a smile, you blinked up at him. "You'd turn around for me?" you asked in a murmur.
He matched your heated gaze, dark eyes intense and flaring a torch in your belly. "I suppose you'll just have to find out one of these days."
Swallowing thick, you took a breath, then turned and led him toward the little encampment of people. Heads turned as the pair of you approached, and you found that most of them smiled. You waved to those who offered little shakes of their hands, trailed by a ghoul stalking in his own shadow and resting the crook of his palm on his pistol. You were met by a kind-faced woman near the large tank of water, and she was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the thumping music.
"You folks just get in?" she said, already fixing two bowls of stew from a large pot simmering over a fire.
You broke yourself from the staring match you were having with the pot, the same one Cooper was still stuck in. Although, he may have been watching the chickens that roamed inside a little pen nearby as he licked his lips. "Yes, ma'am," you said over the trill of the woman's singing. You so desperately wished you knew the words so you could sing along. "I hope we're not imposing."
"Not at all!" A bowl of stew was pushed into your hands, and you forced yourself to be polite and not spoon it down your throat immediately. At your side, your companion gave the rim of the bowl a lick with the tip of his tongue before tipping it to slurp up. "We pride ourselves in being an open community. We might be small, but that just means there's more to share." The tin cups of water she handed over didn't last but five seconds before she was refilling them. "Make yourselves comfortable and stay however long you like. All we ask is that you keep your weapons holstered and don't disturb the music."
You and Cooper took seats at a dining table that had been dragged over from the cafeteria, neither of you speaking much as you both wolfed down what was in the bowls in front of you. Both of your spoons went untouched, each electing instead to drink up the strangely-colored meat floating around inside. Cooper finished much faster than you, and shucked off his gloves so that he could dip his scarred finger in to collect what juices were left. When he was finished, the bowl looked as though it hadn't even been used.
Watching him with a small smile, you let up from your own bowl and said, "I'm waiting."
"For what, exactly, little lady?"
"Your apology." You lapped up the rest of your stew before politely setting your bowl inside of his. "You wanted to -" You hesitated and glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was too close to hear you. "You know." Then you settled a rather self-satisfied smirk over your features. "And look where we are now. So I'd like my apology now."
Cooper sucked on his finger, ensuring he was getting every last morsel of the stew that he could, and your attention was pulled down to where his lips wrapped around his digit. A part of you began to imagine it was yours. He noticed you staring and grinned wide. "And you know what I'm waitin' for, darlin'?"
"What?"
"For you to walk yourself over there and get me seconds."
You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless grabbed your stacked bowls and began to make your way over to where the woman was tending to the pot. "You'd better be thinking about your apology," you called over your shoulder. When you turned back around you nearly collided into someone retreating back to their spot with their own dinner. You jerked to the side, attempting to get out of their way first, and in doing so rammed yourself into the stereo set on a table in the center of the little camp. You watched in horror, bowls clasped to your chest, as the stereo tumbled over the edge of its pedestal and fell to the floor, where it shattered into what must have been hundreds of pieces. The camp became shrouded in a tense, shocked silence as every eye in the mall turned to face you and look upon your sin.
"I..." Your voice carried through the atrium and down the corridors of the shopping mall, sounding like an isolated cry for help. "I'm so sorry. I - I didn't mean to, I really didn't. Here, I might be able to fix it." You bent down to try and gather the pieces with your free hand, and the moment you did, a number of the camp locals drew weapons to aim in your direction.
"Now," came that familiar drawl behind you as you heard a hammer lock into place. "Are we really goin' to be killin' each other over some silly radio?" asked Cooper, and you felt some of your nerves ease slightly when you felt his chest press against your back.
A man to your right hissed. "You killed him!"
You shook your head viciously. "No, no! I - I didn't kill anyone. I'm sorry, I really am."
"You killed Sterry!" a woman accused.
"Sterry?" You looked down at the broken stereo and began to scoop up the bigger pieces you could find. "I - I can fix Sterry, I swear -"
"There's no fixing Sterry," moaned the woman who had served you stew as she sunk into the closest bench, looking as though she were about to faint. "He's dead. And you've killed us all."
You glanced back at Cooper, who wielded both his pistols now, each pointed in a different direction toward locals who had drawn their weapons. He offered a shrouded look that screamed, 'Now, didn't I tell you so, sweetheart?' You took a shuddering breath and faced the woman who had served you. "What do you mean?" you asked.
The woman placed her head in her hand as if she'd already accepted her fate. It was a daunting sight, the face of a woman so cheery and joyful such a short time ago, now deflated as though someone had let out all her air. "This place," she said, gesturing vaguely to the mall around you. "It's infested." The word was so heavy you felt as though you nearly choked on it. "Infested with creatures that will tear us limb from limb now that you've ruined everything. The music! The music was what kept them away, and now that it's gone..."
As if on cue, from the darkness of one of the long-winding corridors straight ahead, there came the bone-rattling sound of a feral hissing and snapping its weathered jaw. A few of the locals scrambled back as the creature emerged from the inky blackness, arms twisted and eyes sunken so far back into its skull they looked like they were forever pointed toward the sky. It took a rushed few steps forward before Cooper's arm rotated and he put a hole between its eyes. The feral dropped to the floor, leaking dark blood that stained the tile floor.
"Stop being so dramatic, Uma," said an older gentleman who stooped at your feet to begin gathering the pieces of Sterry. You immediately dropped to your knees to help. "We've fixed Sterry before, and we'll fix him again. It won't take long. But while we do, we'll need something to drive those creatures off..."
Your stomach dropped when, as you stood to hand over the pieces of the stereo, you felt Cooper's hands - still fitted with his pistols - rest heavily on your shoulders. "Well, then, y'all folks are in luck," he drawled, and you could practically hear the smirk playing his lips as he spoke. "I've got my very own songbird right here. I'd be happy to lend her to 'ya if, say... you filled our flasks from that there tank when the time comes for us to leave."
"Cooper," you hissed through your teeth as you spun around to face him. Singing for your vault was one thing, but singing for a bunch of strangers in the middle of an infested mall while ferals stumbled from the darkness all around you? He may as well have tossed you back out into the wastes. "You are not going to fucking trade me -"
"Done," said the old man as he sat down and began to sort Sterry's pieces. "Have your girl start singing - anything her heart desires. Just long enough for me to fix old Sterry here."
Giving the man a mock salute that didn't quite raise to his brow, Cooper shoved you onto a bench so that you stood over the rest of the camp. From this angle, they were all able to see your petrified expression and your hands shaking at your sides. "You heard the man," your companion said and smacked the back of your knee. "Get to it, songbird."
"Cooper, I can't -"
Before you were able to finish, Cooper turned, his ears pricking at something yours did not pick up, and dropped another feral that had been silently stalking the camp from the other side. A few of the locals yelped in terror, fleeing into shopfronts and tents.
"Sing for me, sweetheart," Cooper said. He sent you a wink, tipped his hat, then unleashed another round of lead into the darkness which only his eyes could penetrate.
You felt as if you were going to vomit. Sweat began to form on the back of your neck as you fisted your hands and swayed slightly where you stood on the bench. Turning your head, you met the eyes of a few camp locals watching you from their hideouts, their expressions filled with fear, anger, anticipation. They were waiting. Expecting. Needing. Attempting to push down the swelling that was beginning to form in your throat, you looked down at Cooper as he emptied his pistols of empty shells before reloading in order to fend off the ferals attacking the camp - the very camp he'd wanted to take out not half an hour ago.
He'd told you to sing for him. So you'd sing. For him, and only him.
Clearing your mouth and opening your lips, you took a breath and forced yourself to sing. "Death will come from where the earth meets the sky." Your voice wobbled slightly, rusty from having not singing since you left your vault. That, along with the fear and dehydration sitting on your tongue. "The sand is scorched beneath his step, the future decided by his eye." As you sang, the miniature explosions banging from the barrels of Cooper's pistols created a short, quick beat you unconsciously began to tap your foot along to. "He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."
Ferals shrieked in response to the gunfire, to the song torn right from your notebook in your pack, and one by one, like stage performers who had practiced this dance a hundred times, they dropped at the feet of the camp.
"Death's got a girl who croons his songs, which is why he never stays for long. He's got to run back to his lady, just as harsh as he, he's coming for you, but he's running back to me." As you sang you realized your voice was getting louder, louder, swelling until it filled the mall's atrium and every corridor far beyond. You tapped your heel along with the rhythm you'd created, closing your eyes and imagining an audience of one; a ghoul with his arms slung out across the chairs beside him and a knowing smirk playing his thin lips. It pulled you forward, pulled forth a song you hadn't realized was already in you. "He might sound mean, but I swear, he's kind. He's just got to peer into these eyes of mine. I'll ride with him, and he'll follow me, leaving behind a trail of blood far as the eye can see. Oh, my baby's got teeth to bite and a gun to blow, see his smoke and soon you'll know. Death ain't my man, he's my right hand. He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."
You had just been nearing a second verse when, from where it rested before the old man on the table, the stereo jumped back to life and filled the atrium with thrumming, pulsing folk music. It drowned out your voice, silenced you like a gunshot, and the ferals teetering on the edge of the darkness leading to the rest of the mall stumbled back into their hiding places. The camp locals slowly emerged from their hiding places, chattering excitedly about Sterry and his newfound love of life. Feeling a little stupid still standing on the bench, you climbed down and shuffled away toward where you had been originally sitting.
Taking a seat, you rested your forehead on your arms and exhaled a shaky breath. What had you been thinking? Singing a song for the man you'd become hopelessly fascinated with while he was just a few feet away, battling ferals who were intent on tearing out your throat and taking your voice with it? You were such a fucking idiot. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you to never open your mouth again.
Just as promised, your flasks were filled to the brims with fresh water before you went on your way, leaving the mall atrium and the singing, dancing camp locals behind as you picked your way back outside. Neither you nor Cooper said much as you continued your trek to nowhere, leaving a pair of footprints like echoes in your wake. Your cheeks remained flushed long after the mall had disappeared into the horizon, and long after you picked out an abandoned building to set up camp for the night. For once, it wasn't from the heat.
You sat across the lantern and what light it cast from Cooper, who stared into the little beacon as if he were watching the most fascinating flick within its glass. You held your notebook in your lap, thumb marking your place as your tried to write, but nothing would come to mind save for the things you'd sung about today. Mortification stirred like a serpent in your belly, and you briefly considered excusing yourself to get up and throw up outside.
"Let me see that book you've got there."
Your head lifted at Cooper's request - more of a demand - and unconsciously tightened your grip around your notebook. Your notebook - full of songs, melodies, lyrics. The most recent half of which you had written about the ghoul staring at you. "This?" you said, your trembling voice giving way to your nerves. You forced out a chuckle and smacked it shut. "It's nothing worth looking at."
"Why not?" he said, voice rasping lower than the baritone he usually held it at. You swore his gaze was hotter than the sun during the day and the fires at night. "You got more songs 'bout little old me in there?"
Fuck, he knew. Fuck all, he knew. You felt your flush deepen as you pointedly tucked your notebook into the bottom of your pack and flipped the top shut. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," you said, avoiding his eyes. Instead you focused on the fraying tip of your boot. "I wrote that a long time ago. Back in my vault."
"Uh huh." Cooper stared you down for so long you thought that perhaps time had frozen. Then he took a barely-there breath. "Come over here, songbird. Let me get a good look at you."
For a long, long moment, you remained still as you ever had been. What was he saying? Normally the only time he let you close to him was when he invaded your personal space to deliver a shove or to smack your knee or thigh to tell you to get a move on. Your breath hitched when you finally lifted your head and found his gaze boring into yours, heavier than a ton and white hot like a branding iron.
"I ain't goin' to tell you again, pretty girl."
As if he had you on a fucking leash - because you swore he did - you found yourself pitching forward, crawling on your hands and knees toward him. He spread his legs slightly, enough to give you room to fit between them, and hesitantly, so very carefully, you rested yourself against his front. His rough, scarred hands, free of his gloves, came up to rest on the swell of your hips as if they were made to be there, fitting like puzzle pieces against your skin beneath your vault suit. You stared up at him, backlit by the lantern light, and let his thumb drag down your bottom lip until it slipped from his touch.
"Didn't think my songbird had such desire in her," Cooper chuckled, his warm breath fanning across your face.
You relished in the goosebumps that crawled over the planes of your skin. "I... I don't..."
"Oh, you'd be dead wrong if you said that little ditty you sang today wasn't all about desire." He settled back deeper where he sat, giving you more room to settle against him between the columns of his thighs. Your lower belly rested against his crotch, where you felt the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. Your heart skipped a beat or three. "If you wanted to ride with death, sweetheart, all you needed to do was ask."
Cooper sealed his lips to yours without word or warning, pulling a surprised little noise from the back of your throat that he swallowed up with fervor. As the initial shock faded, you found your eyes slipping shut and your mouth moving against his, lips opening without fight when his tongue demanded to explore your own. Bracing yourself with one hand against his thigh, you reached up with your other and cradled the back of his head, knocking off his hat in the process.
Swift to get a move on, to feel you against him and swallow up more of your sounds, Cooper easily flipped you around so that you were now lying flat on your back and he was hovering over your prone form. Both tingling excitement and nauseating nerves pulled groans from your lips as he moved to pressing harsh kisses and nips to the column of your neck, licking up red spots that would surely bruise come morning time. He shucked off his duster and abandoned it somewhere behind him, at the same time, by some skill you had no idea anyone possessed, also grasping at the zipper of your vault suit to pull it down as far as it would go.
It didn't take long for you to shimmy out of the suit, leaving you in just your underwear, the seams of which he traced with his calloused finger. It sent a chill running up your spine despite the heat prodding at your skin.
"My songbird sounds real pretty when she's singin'," Cooper muttered as he sucked a bruise into the swell of one breast over the cup of your bra. "I bet she sounds even better screamin' for me."
His hand plunged beneath the waistband of your panties and began to explore your folds, pulling a long, whining moan from your lips. He ate you and your whimpers up, devouring your lips like he wanted to eat you whole - maybe he did - while his middle finger ran up and down your cunt a few times before deftly finding your clit and applying a bit of pressure to the sensitive bud. You cried out. It had been far too long since you'd seen any real action. It didn't take long before your folds were soaked, and he was able to gingerly nudge his finger past the entrance of your pussy. It felt foreign to have another person thrusting their finger in and out of you, building you up to a kind of high you hadn't known since far before you left your vault. In less than a few minutes - something he would surely tease you about later - you felt that familiar coil snap in your stomach and you soaked his hand with a loud, throat-rattling wail that escaped your lips and flew right past his.
Cooper pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk and pulled his hand from your panties, lifting his spread hand to show you to slick you'd coated his digits with. You were only able to huff for breath and watch with hooded eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and used his skillful tongue to lick off your cum. You briefly wondered what else that tongue of his could do, what it would feel like to have him lap up your pussy like it was the only thing to guarantee him his daily hit of medicine.
"Sweet as honey, baby," he cooed, bracing himself with one hand while the other worked on the buckle of his belt. "Well. Maybe Tennessee honey. You ever had a taste of that?" He knew you hadn't. But that didn't stop his smirk from growing in size when you numbly shook your head. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, baby. We'll get you a lick one day. 'Til then..."
Your limbs dancing with pins and needles, you lifted your hips to help him tug off your panties. "I'll just have to settle for what I've got," you exhaled with a hazy smile.
Cooper grinned wide, a smile that bordered on the edge of dark, as he tugged down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free. He was thick - larger than you'd expected - and his member was rough and scarred like the rest of him. It made you want to feel him all the more. "I'll promise you somethin', darlin," he said as he positioned himself at your entrance and you locked your legs around his waist, heels digging into the edge of his gun belt. "I'm better than anything else you'll taste these days." With that he slid into you, filling you at once to the brim like he just couldn't wait to feel you from the inside. A loud, sharp yelp escaped your lips as your back arched instinctively, curling yourself up into him. He only waited a few moments for you to adjust before he started moving, pulling himself out to the tip before thrusting back inside your welcoming cunt. You were able to feel each and every ridge of him, every scar, and you swore you were getting drunk from just the feeling.
"Fuckin' shit, girl," he groaned, moving to press the flat of his hand to the base of your neck so that he could keep you in place while he fucked you. "Better than I could've fuckin' dreamed."
Cooper's thrusts began to increase in speed, your moans and whimpers accompanied by his low, almost growling snarls he panted against the shell of your ear. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were being fucked by the ghoul you'd been following all these months, the ghoul you'd been watching and studying and falling hopelessly for. And it felt good. It felt so fucking good, a part of you wasn't entirely convinced this entire scenario wasn't a dream concocted by the recesses of your mind.
"God, Coop," you heard yourself moan as your nails dug crescent moons into the fabric of his shirt. "Feels so fucking good..."
"Atta girl," he muttered, moving his head down so that he could suck at the junction where your neck met your shoulder. "Such a sweet little songbird." His grip on your hips tightened as his movements increased even further. "Might just have to fuck you good every night so I can hear you sing for me."
You panted deep as you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching at an alarming rate. Your hips bucked up to meet his with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin filling the abandoned building in which you had taken shelter. "Don't have to - ah! - even ask. I'll sing for you any time, Coop."
Cooper's breaths came shorter, sharper, and it wasn't long before he came with a harsh bite against your shoulder, one that spilled blood into his awaiting mouth and pulled your own orgasm from deep within your depths. You shuddered and cried for him, tugging him close and holding him there for several minutes after your highs had faded and your breaths evened.
Finally, he pulled himself off of you. A short whine escaped you when he slipped from your heat, and he chuckled low before tossing you your panties to slip back on. When you were both covered again, you sat up and crossed your legs as you basked in the afterglow of what had just taken place. Cooper dug around in his saddlebag for a moment before producing his inhaler and drinking up a shot of his medicine, shaking his head against the sudden buzz that came with it as he sat back on his elbows and stared at the lantern light.
"I..." You struggled to find the words so desperately clawing at your chest. "I hope you don't..."
Cooper reached up and pulled your wrist out from under you, causing you to fall back on the ground beside him with an 'umph.' He let his arm cushion your fall before sweeping a few strands of hair from your face and giving you that crooked smirk which made your legs fall numb all over again. "Oh, don't you worry yourself, songbird," he said. "I ain't lettin' you fly away from me any time soon."
#fallout#fallout show#fallout amazon#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#the ghoul smut#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#cooper howard smut#fallout imagines#fallout one shot#fallout smut#the ghoul x y/n#cooper howard x y/n
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The Fallen pt. 4
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader
A/N: This contains smut.
Cooper was angry.
No, he’d been angry when the shit-for-brains had the audacity to look at you like he was stripping your body bare with his eyes.
Now, he was furious.
Rage was an easy emotion, a comfortable one. For years it’d been his only companion, and slipping back into its familiar embrace felt almost natural to him.
Lucy had been too preoccupied with saying goodbye to her lover boy to see the carefully lidded fury, a snake in the grass ready to strike.
You’d noticed though.
Of course you noticed, just like you did every other damn thought that crossed his mind. Maybe you’d noticed the hundred different ways he’d imagined popping that weasel’s head off, of making you pay for the tiniest bit of himself he couldn’t let die.
When you’d proclaimed a shelter for the night- a sad little shack with three walls- Lucy had wandered off with some lame excuse of looking for supplies, the dog trotting happily along with her. Or maybe it was checking the perimeter. He didn’t care, hoped she died, really.
You set a lantern on the ground between the two of you, laying out your pack to get comfortable on the floor. Cooper didn’t bother, couldn’t sit down while the fire burned through his veins. It roared through every inch of his body, consuming him with a vexation he hadn’t felt in a long time.
That fucking roach should’ve lost his hands for touching you, for thinking himself deserving of your silky skin.
“You should rest.”
He barked a laugh- a harsh, aggravated noise wrangled from his chest.
“Ain’t as delicate as you.”
It was meant to be an insult, and fuck didn’t that just piss him off that you let it slide right off you. Unbothered, the same way you’d been the day he first met you.
The same way you’d been when that rat had scurried to you, vying for your attention.
“Coop-“
“So now you want to speak to me?” He straightened his back, standing to his full height as he glared down at your sitting figure.
It was an intimidation tactic, and he knew you well enough to know that it wouldn’t have the effect he was hoping, but it would make you privy to his frustrations.
“Seems like I’m a great choice when I’m the only one.”
Confusion furrowed your brows, quickly replaced by understanding. You let out a low sigh, eyes tracing Cooper’s figure in the dim light.
He didn’t like that you could be so calm, that you didn’t feel his wrath.
“You’re jealous.”
He snarled, angry at the insinuation- even more so that it was correct. It wasn’t just jealousy though.
You were his.
He hadn’t had something worth holding onto in a long damn time, and nobody would take what was his.
“If I was jealous everytime you opened those pretty legs for someone else, I’d never get any rest.”
Your eyes flashed- hurt, followed quickly by anger.
Good.
He wanted you angry.
Wanted you to feel the inferno in your chest, the way he did- to let it consume you in a blaze of abandon, come undone at the seams and show the person beneath.
“We’re not doing this,” you stated bluntly, still holding onto the last bit of restraint.
That wouldn’t do.
He wanted you unraveled, raw.
“Runnin’ won’t change a damn thing.”
Your hands pressed into your knees, a quick outlet of irritation before you stood up. Your eyes were still burning, but it wasn’t enough. You still had too much control.
“You’re such an ass.”
The smirk he flashed was cruel.
“‘M honest,” he argued, “and doesn’t that just piss you off?”
Your chest expanded with a deep breath, eyes unfocused as you talked yourself down. He was so close, you just needed a little push.
“Poor little dove, just wants to run away from her problems like she did her family.”
Bingo.
Faster than a blink, you were in his face, your teeth bared as you raised a fist. He took the opportunity, watching your rage swelter as he grabbed hold of your wrist and twisted it behind you.
Fuck if your rage wasn’t the most intoxicating thing- the rise and fall of your chest hypnotic, the bare of your teeth captivating. You growled, an angry, ominous noise that went straight to his cock.
Your back was pressed against his front, moving with the rhythm of your erratic breathing, teasing friction exactly where he wanted you. His fingers pressed into your wrist harder, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. You weren’t fighting his hold- waiting, listening.
“Maybe that’s why your daddy left you too.”
Your eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire as you tried to pull your hand from him. He held fast though, put every ounce of his strength into restraining you. You lashed out like a wild animal, movements irrational and erratic. Finally, when it was clear you wouldn’t get free, you spit at him.
“Fuck you.”
It was the most vulgar he’d ever heard you, his wrath mixing with desire. Warmth seeped into his cheek where your spit had landed, and in a quick kick of his legs, he dropped you to your knees hard.
And wasn’t that a damn sight.
“If that sweet mouth wants to be filthy so bad, why don’t we put it to good use.”
He talked slow, controlled, as he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. Wild eyes traced the arch of your back, the smooth column of your exposed neck.
He wanted to take a bite.
Your eyes were burning into his, an anger he’d never seen before from you shining through. You looked like you hated him, like you’d burn him on the spot.
“Now, sweetheart, try not to use your teeth.”
He clicked open his belt buckle, positioning himself just enough to free his hardened length. He’d dreamt of this moment, had pleasured himself to the thought of you more than he could count. The realization that it was coming to fruition had him so hard it fucking hurt. He took pride at the hunger in your gaze, your mouth still twisted in a scowl.
“Don’t act all innocent now.”
Almost as if it were a challenge, spurred on by your temper, your hot mouth took his entire length in one quick movement and-
Holy fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You were impossibly warm, your tongue sliding the length of his cock while your eyes, the ones he’d spent so long admiring, stared into his own. You held his gaze, refused to look away as you hollowed your cheeks, daring him to keep going.
He didn’t disappoint, wrapping his hand around your hair just like he’d done with his lasso. Sturdy hands forced you to take him to the base of his cock, before pulling back out. He thrusted back in hard, unconcerned with the tears that gathered in your eyes as he slammed into your throat.
You were defiant in the way you took him, forcing a harsher pace than the one he’d set.
This had to have been heaven. Nothing on Earth could possibly feel this fucking good. His thrusts were feral, unrelenting, and you were meeting them with ferocity, your pretty lips wrapped so perfectly around his cock.
“Takin’ me so good,” he groaned, his abdomen spasming. The sound of your gags filled the air, tearing through any restraint he might’ve had.
It’d been a while since he’d felt any sort of pleasure, even longer since it’d been anything more than a quick fuck.
This, though…
This was a whole different beast.
Fuck.
He wiped at the saliva coating his cheek, staring into your eyes as he slid his fingers into his mouth, tasting your sweetness.
You moaned, and he was sure this had to be a dream.
Reality had never been this nice.
“My filthy girl.”
Another moan, and this one almost dropped him to his knees. Pleasure tingled up his spine, down to the tips of his fingers and the bottom of his toes. His body was practically vibrating, begging him for release.
He didn’t want it yet, wanted this moment to last an eternity. His cock was pounding into your mouth, your fingernails digging into his thighs- sweet pain mixed with hot pleasure.
Please, his body sung, begging for a release he desperately fought against.
His pace was brutal, chasing the high he both wanted more than anything, and wished would never come.
It wasn’t enough.
This wasn’t enough.
He needed more.
Needed all of you.
“You are mine.”
He emphasized on a growl, savoring the taste of you that still lingered on his tongue.
He was desperate for more, for every damn piece of yourself you’d give him. It’d never be enough, not enough time in the universe to get the fill of you he wanted- needed.
He was close now, only holding on by sheer will, and all it took was a tilt of your head and a long, low moan of what he only prayed was his name around his length.
Like a band, his restraint snapped, his hips surging forward as he grunted your name.
Fuck.
Fuck, his body was singing.
Fuck. Curses, unbidden, were falling from his lips. Pleas, praises, worships- fuck it all he couldn’t even tell anymore, blinded by the feel of your mouth.
It was hot, so hot, and you swallowed every drop he gave you, his sensitive cock was twitching, his knees trembling with the effort to stay on his feet.
You kept going though, pulling your lips back just far enough to lick his length clean, your eyes still so full of fire, the same fire racing through his body.
It was so much, too much almost, and yet he gave into the torturous pleasure, desperate for you, for whatever you’d give him.
His hat had fallen off his head when he threw it back, his legs shaking as you finally pulled away- and despite the overstimulation, his body still chased your mouth, not ready to feel the empty, consuming void left in your wake.
A breath.
A moment to consider what he’d done, what he’d said to you. It wasn’t anger in your eyes- not regret, either. He couldn't read it, couldn't grasp what you were feeling.
His heart pounded against his chest, exhausted arms releasing your hair as he slowly, cautiously, raised his fingers to your cheeks. Tears had fallen from how far he’d thrust himself into you. He wiped them away, let them press into the fabric of his gloves, as the air grew thick.
It was a soft moment, a gentle one, and he didn’t want to be the first to pull away.
So you did.
You got your feet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your jaw flexing as you looked like you hadn’t just sucked him fucking dry.
He tucked himself back in his pants and secured his belt, waiting for you to speak. It was a tense moment, drawn longer by the way you wet your lips, like you wanted to talk but couldn’t quite form the words.
“Oh, fudge, are you two okay?”
His finger itched with the desire to end the vaultie for interrupting this, for causing you to cast a worried glance in her direction before your damn walls were thrown back up. Whatever you’d been about to say, you definitely wouldn’t now.
“Just peachy,” you smiled, one that screamed inauthenticity as you took a step to face away from Lucy.
“Think I need some air though, I’ll be back in a bit.”
It was a dismissal if he ever heard one, and the vault dweller had the good sense not to try and follow.
“Your hat’s on the ground, there.”
She went to pick it up for him, but he swooped down before she had the chance and deposited it on his head. On a good day he didn’t have the patience for her, but right now he was feeling downright venomous.
“So-“
“Leave it.”
His words were final, tone brokering no argument. That was the only bit of grace he’d give her- one more word and his reply would be a bullet. She understood, could see the tension in his stance and gave him the space he desired.
But it wasn’t space he wanted.
It was you.
It was your voice, so gentle and melodic.
It was your touch, sweet and resolute- full of heat, of passion, of something that resembled life.
Instead, he got the cold, hard ground and a head full of vicious thoughts. Why did you plague his thoughts the way you did? Why did you make him feel so fucking human?
He didn’t want to.
Didn’t want that, any of it.
Not the fucking feelings, not the guilt, not the stupid fucking spark of hope in his cold, dead heart.
Let Cooper Howard die.
But it wasn’t that simple.
All of the anger in the world couldn’t turn his affection for you to hatred. It was a stubborn thing, and a solid one. No amount of pressure could bend it. He’d just learned to live with it- a deficiency he’d carry for the rest of his miserable time on Earth.
He fell to the ground there, not bothering with getting comfortable, almost like it was a punishment. Truth be told, he didn’t have the fight in his veins anymore, didn’t wish to have to struggle to get comfortable.
He was ready to lie down and accept what he earned.
His eyes slipped shut, and though the vault dweller fell into a light sleep easily, he could not. His mind simply wouldn’t stop, kept replaying that look in your eyes.
What did it mean?
Did you hate him?
He wouldn’t blame you, could never fault you for hating the monstrous thing he’d become. He’d bet you’d have fallen in love with him before- Cooper Howard, the gentleman.
That was the kind of thing you deserved, the kind of life he’d dreamt about with you.
He’d love you in those dreams, so unconditionally and flawlessly, with no restraint or regret. He’d praised the ground you walked on, and would cherish every moment he had with you.
Not now.
He couldn’t love that way, not anymore- didn’t want to, didn’t remember how, if he were honest.
There was a quiet, tempered crunch of sand, a boot moving slowly towards him.
He knew those steps though, knew that it was you who approached him. He kept his eyes shut, curious as to what your intent was.
If you killed him, so be it.
“Cooper,” you breathed.
It was a prayer, an admission, and a promise. He didn’t reply, didn’t even crack open an eye, just listened with all the ravenous hunger of a starving man, hoping you would say more.
You didn’t.
A shadow casted from behind his lids as you knelt down, reminiscent of earlier, but of your own volition. This wasn’t with rage, with an animalistic hunger.
This was with compassion, with something that resembled fondness.
A soft exhale left your parted lips, and if he imagined hard enough, he could see the expression you wore. It was kind, open- something he rarely saw anymore.
A weight settled on his chest then, your head pressed snug against the tattered shirt he wore. An arm wrapped around his middle, holding him close to your warmth. The words you spoke in then sounded lyrical, more natural than anything you’d ever said before.
He didn’t know the meaning, wasn’t even sure what language it was- but a heat emanated from the feather he’d tucked into his chest pocket, and he understood that it was you sharing a piece of yourself.
He listened to the beating of his own heart, the slowing of your breaths, as he felt a peace wash over himself that he thought was long gone.
There, in the dim glow of a worn lantern, with the most beautiful soul he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting tucked into his side, Cooper Howard emerged- the man he was- if only for a moment.
Tags: @lacontroller1991 @giggle-shade
#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#cooper howard insert#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#fallout x reader#fallout reader insert#cooper howard imagine#the ghoul imagine#fallout imagine
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Blunderbuss
Well this only took 18 months... I would like to thank Lav for being so darn patient. When she requested something in the KKBB universe for the RGBP fic, I loved it. But the brain weasels are the least cooperative buggers I've ever met. So. Without further ado, I give you the next installment in Safety First:
Blunderbuss
He was still driving at speed and was loath to take his eyes from the road, but Lestrade had a terrible habit of only taking on board criticism in the immediate aftermath of… drama. “I know you enjoy a bit of mess, Darling, but I think we can both agree that – whatever that was just now – you are discovering novel and dramatic frontiers of mayhem.”
Lestrade snorted, not sounding at all contrite. “You’re the brains of the operation here, Gorgeous.”
Written for @lavenderandvanilla
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I'm curious about what headcanons you have regarding Spanx the weasel that are in particular regards to his backstory. Like what the reason behind his existence could be or what exactly caused him to be " scrapped " per se.
Oooh I haven't gotten a Whiplash ask in awhile.
I feel like Spanx's backstory is pretty straight forward but I've poured TONS of lore into Redmond. How I like to see it is Red is great for pre game potential and Spanx is great for post game potential.
It's established in the game that Genron has a product called the Robo Weasel. If you sit through the introductory blurb in the showcase, they state at the end that there was a "second generation in progress". Foreshadowing to that being Spanx.
As far as headcanon stuff and assumptions, I think Spanx was scrapped because they weren't able to program his brain to cooperate with commands. He was a victim to shock therapy, telling me that something in his brain wasn't quite "wired" correctly and they were trying to fix it. Make him an obedient little product for the masses to take home as a house pet/personal slave given what the infomercial implied.
Another personal headcanon of mine, though somewhat off topic is I think Spanx has trouble processing emotions. I took inspo from this by how often he blank stares in the game due to model limitations but I think it adds to how there's something not quite right about him. The one emotion he knows by heart is rage and vengefulness. But the more time he spends with Redmond, the more he learns how to express himself and process new emotions.
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Ok I SWEAR I'm working on more Freddy asks! But I literally just figured these out, and my brain would not let me rest until I sent them into your inbox. I'm serious, I tried XD you don't have to answer right away! This is so I can get peace XD
So what exactly has gotten my brain so riled up? Well, I was thinking about how we compared the N'ever After Wolves to the Toon Patrol, and that led me to thinking of how they'd be in a swapped setting. Like the weasels are a part of a Fairy Tale world, and the wolves are a gang in the 40's.
I'm gonna have to give them seperate asks to keep them organized. Let's start with N'ever After!
Ok so, let's say that maybe in this world, Fairy Tale Land has grown into the new age. Either that, or fea creatures replace the toons in the 1940's. Either way, fairy tale creatures and character of all kinds are running amuck.
In the case of the bad guys, various villains and baddies have formed their own groups and gangs. In the case of the Big Bad, Granny and Kiddy, they stick together.
Calling them a gang might be stretching it, since it's just the three of them? But they do still commit crimes together, and strike fear into those who know them.
Big Bad, with his manipulative friendliness, is put in charge of collecting debts and striking deals more often than not. He's the one who snags the person in, make them feel comfortable, before he lays it out for him. And he has no problem getting his hands dirty if they don't cooperate.
Granny is genuinely nice, but that doesn't mean he's to be messed with. With his more inquiring smarts, Granny is better at getting intel and interrogating. He can easily play it the easy way, pretending to be a regular guy asking plenty of questions. Or he can play it the hard way; getting the answers out of you by force.
Kiddy is more often by Granny's side, but that doesn't mean he isn't useful. If need be, Granny or Big Bad- mainly Big Bad- will have Kiddy sniff out any run aways that owe them. Or, similar to the movie, they'll have Kiddy check a situation out for them.
Who is the head boss? Eh... Granny and Bad can't seem to decide XD they're constantly butting heads just like in the movie. And if their gang ever grew in size, they'd probably wind up having their own lackeys that follow them.
When Frieda was getting all the bad guys together- which in this AU would take a bit longer, since she'd have to visit each individual gang and convince them to join her cause, Granny was the one who questioned it at first, but Big Bad decided to go all in right away. Granny, and Kiddy by extension, were quick to follow.
Alright, what we really want. The S/O headcannons XD
With your Princess Y/N, I'm not sure how you'd want to implement them in this AU (if you even want to- I'd love it if you'd wanted to! But of course you don't have to ^^). But for my Riding Hood Y/N; I'd say that Y/N is one of the debtors. Sort of.
Y/N runs her own grocer. It's a small business that happens to be in the wolves' part of town, so she's gotta pay the 'protection fee' just like everyone else.
At first it starts off as just paying money. But at some point, Y/N gets the idea that Big Bad likes food, and he seems pretty friendly enough. So maybe, if she gives him some of her produce along with the cash, it'd put her in his good book and make her extra safe!
It works. I mean, who's gonna turn down free food? And Y/N even winds up meeting Granny and Kiddy too after this deal has been made.
Eventually, Big Bad decides that she doesn't have to pay them the money anymore. Claiming that her good food is payment enough now. And this is definitely a relief to Y/N!
But in reality, that's the first sign that the wolves have grown fond of Y/N. The next sign is when they start stopping by her store more often. Even after collecting her 'payment'. It's kind of scary, but as long as they don't do anything to her, Y/N doesn't pay it any mind.
Ok that's all I got because I need to get started on the Toon Patrol ask XD I hope you like these! These are still fresh in my brain, so they may be clunky or change in the future. Don't be afraid to add onto this if you want! ^^
How-... How did you- How did you make me fall for Big Bad even w o r s e??? XD Good lord.
'And he has no problem getting his hands dirty if they don't cooperate'- holy moly. I-
... ANYWAY-
This is amazing omg XD I have read this a f e w (*cough* understatement) times since you sent it and oh boyyy I just love it so much XD I wish I had more to add 😅
Granny being capable of a calm chat but also of beating information out of someone?? Granny keeping Kiddy by his side while he does this 'business'?? Acwywvsidvksoahsbsyckwpqbwbfhcpanack!!
And the x reader stuff-
Oh my lord, I have some imagines for you.
Imagine Granny spending the day with your Red Riding Hood!Reader, maybe Big Bad sent him to try and scope out the situation with you (Why doya gotta pay em for gang protection?? You seem nice enough... its sus.) so he's just hanging out under the guise of being bored on a day off. Asking you if ya need some help around here... if not, do you have oranges? Are they good ones? It's been a bad year. Somehow he fits in perfect and you forget you were suspicious of him at the start today because he's such good company and you like eachother. The whole time he's trying to get you comfortable with him enough to tell him your deal- but damnit, he likes you too. You're smart, and tough, and got a good sense of humour.
Welp, guess he'll haveta tell Big Bad he got nothin from ya~~ But that's all good, I'll go back until got the information. Ya got me word.
And my Princess!Reader!! I feel like she would be a popular princess toon (of course), doing a lot of fairytale cartoons. She's beloved by audiences and she's got a pretty good following.
Imagine Princess!Reader one day meeting Big Bad on the street. She knows he has to be bad news, she's not dumb, but she is passionate about her work and he would be perfect to be her co-star for an upcoming Red Riding Hood remake. Theirs just something about him that hits her hard, she doesn't realise yet that it is lust, and they click so he agrees; sure, why not? Could be a laugh, and you sure aren't bad company, sweetheart~ The way her eyes light up at him agreeing to be her big bad wolf makes him a little soft, he knows he's in deep already, but he's not one to back off. As the filming begins and they get closer and closer (both physically and emotionally), scandalous rumours spread about famous good girl Y/N L/N and one of Toon Towns most notorious criminals XD
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I've forgotten why Jasper even bothers with pleasantries
"""pleasantries"""
like. keeping up the facade that he's trying to "help" nat and will "explain everything" and "this is for the greater good and it will help you too!"
Jasper knows about Nat's whole little rental car mystery because [REDACTED] told him, and Jasper can easily use that to weasel his way into Nat's brain and convince him to cooperate
but whym the fuck does he bother???? I forget
I think Jasper thinks Nat knows more than Nat actually does and is trying to get it out of him
and when that fails it's just sorta....
ok enjoy frying to death in endless UV light in this tiny cell oh and also starve <3 tomorrow we will be operating on you while you are still conscious <3
idk. man
mannnnnn
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Life update because I disappeared from here again without totally intending to! 😬
Brain weasels haven’t been cooperating with me, but that’s really nothing new. Just makes it hard for me to write coherently.
Things have gotten hectic again irl.
We were late on rent for this month, but managed to get it paid.
My brother got fired at the beginning of this week, and that has honestly been the last straw for me.
I’m finally moving out. My friends have been offering to rent me a room in their house for less than half of what our rent is in this apartment, and I’m finally taking them up on it. Goal is to move out by October 1st, but I’ll leave sooner if brother finds a job before then.
He and I have already talked things out. He understands why I need to leave, and that I can no longer be responsible for his actions. We’re not on bad terms.
He’s going to be staying in this apartment for as long as he can or until the lease is up. I’ll help him with rent if I can, but he will be responsible for as much of it as possible.
I don’t know how we’re going to make rent for September, but we’ll figure it out.
I don’t know how often I’ll be active on here because I have a lot to do to prepare for the move.
It feels good to finally have a direction to go in my life again. A goal to work toward. It’s stressful as all hell, but I also have a sense of hope and drive that I haven’t felt in a long time!
Obviously, I wish the best for my brother, and I don’t want him to end up on the street, but he needs to be responsible for himself. He’s told me as much, and I’m finally in a place where I have to let go.
Once I move, I will hopefully have a new job that’s closer to the new place and doesn’t cause me as much pain as this job does. Hopefully.
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Rules
1. No godmodding. Don’t try to control my characters, and don’t automatically assume they’re going to conform to what you want them to do.
2. Anon hate is cowardly and stupid. If you have an issue with me, my characters, or my roleplaying style, just message me about it so that we can work things out like mature and civilized folks. Any Anon hate will be met with shameless mocking and roasted like chestnuts over a fire.
3. Mun is 18+. While NSFW themes such as violence, blood, torture, and criminal acts MAY be present, smut will not be written unless it’s with a partner I know extremely well. If an rp gets to that point, I would much prefer a fade-out or time-skip. I am not personally comfortable with writing smut. However, cuddling, teasing, kissing, and make-out sessions are more than welcome.
4. Please be aware that I have a job that takes up most of my time and energy, and that I have ADHD and autism, and that I might not be able to reply for hours or days on end. If you think I may have forgotten a thread, feel free to message me politely about it, but please be patient with me. I’m trying my best! Sometimes my brain weasels just won’t cooperate.
5. This is a sideblog. I follow back from @foxytonic~
6. Mun does not equal muse! A lot of the muses on this blog do fucked up shit, including but not limited to murder, human and animal experimentation (though I will refrain from writing the latter), manipulation, robbery, and physical and emotional abuse. They are literal horror movie villains. Just because I write it does not mean I condone it. This blog will also deal with heavy subjects such as death, drug addiction, depression, anxiety, and extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms (I.E. Dr. Jekyll trying to eliminate/separate his emotions from his logical mind.) I will try to tag triggers appropriately, but if you need something specific tagged, please don’t be afraid to tell me.
7. When sending memes/starters, please specify which muse they are for, or I will choose a random one.
8. Each muse will have a separate about page except the Sanderson Sisters and Jekyll and Hyde. Yes they are separate characters, but this just makes things easier on me. These muses are based both on their source materials and heavily on headcanons, so please read the about pages.
9. Don’t reblog/like starter calls or open starters if you are not a roleplay blog or have no intention of replying after I do. Don’t reblog closed starters or rp threads if you aren’t my partner.
10. Although I do write several scientists on this blog, I myself am not a scientist. I have tried to do as much research on their methods as I can (and am probably on some kind of watchlist thanks to Jack Griffin -_-), but if some things happen to be slightly or wildly inaccurate, please be patient with me and be willing to suspend your disbelief? This is Sci-Fi/Horror. A lot of the source material was written anywhere between the early 1800’s and the 1950’s. I’m doing my best.
11. I’m not here to start drama, nor am I keen on being dragged into it, HOWEVER, if you have a problem with my friends, you have a problem with me. Trying to pit me against a partner will result in an instant block.
12. If you’re a bigot of any kind or you support known abusers (I.E. Am*er He*rd), stay off my blog.
13. I don’t roleplay with people who FC hunt. If you’re only interested in my characters because of the FC I use, we’re not compatible partners. If I see a tag on your blog like ‘wanted opposite’ or ‘wanted partner’ or something to that effect, it will result in an immediate unfollow/block.
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my brain is finally cooperating a little bit after days of being flu-fuzzy. time to spend some time writing my favorite weasel man
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💌 (I almost turned on anon by instinct lmao)
KAMEN RIDER, toku in general, robots and wizards?? i think there are...wizards...??, a very specific rock quarry, being comforted by routine
FF14, ninja, void ark cos i saw you that one time there ages ago probably actually back in HW
brain weasels that won't cooperate because man that's relatable as hell, hawaiian shirts for some reason??, idk i can't explain it it's just ~the vibe~
also and most importantly: friend
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1. No godmodding. Don’t try to control my character, and don’t automatically assume he’s going to conform to what you want him to do.
2. Anon hate is cowardly and stupid. If you have an issue with me, my characters, or my roleplaying style, just message me about it so that we can work things out like mature and civilized folks. Any Anon hate will be met with shameless mocking and roasted like chestnuts over a fire.
3. Mun is 18+. While NSFW themes such as violence, blood, torture, and criminal acts MAY be present, smut will not be written unless it’s with a partner I know extremely well. If an rp gets to that point, I would much prefer a fade-out or time-skip. I am not personally comfortable with writing smut. However, cuddling, teasing, kissing, and make-out sessions are more than welcome.
4. Please be aware that I have a job that takes up most of my time and energy, and that I have ADHD and autism, and that I might not be able to reply for hours or days on end. If you think I may have forgotten a thread, feel free to message me politely about it, but please be patient with me. I’m trying my best! Sometimes my brain weasels just won’t cooperate.
5. This is a sideblog. I follow back from @foxytonic ~
6. Mun does not equal muse! Jett might do fucked up shit, including but not limited to murder. Just because I write it does not mean I condone it. This blog will also deal with heavy subjects such as death and PTSD. I will try to tag triggers appropriately, but if you need something specific tagged, please don’t be afraid to tell me.
7. When sending memes/starters from a multimuse, please specify which muse they are from, or I will choose a random one.
8. This blog will contain HP/Wizarding World content. Scroll at your own risk. But please know that I don’t support TERF bullshit. I’m tired of letting the internet police what I’m allowed to be interested in, and I refuse to let JKR’s actions kill the joy of my youth. She can suck it!
9. Don’t reblog/like starter calls or open starters if you are not a roleplay blog or have no intention of replying after I do. Don’t reblog closed starters or rp threads if you aren’t my partner.
10. Although I do research my muses before writing them, I don’t know absolutely everything about witchcraft, and I’m limited by what content I can find on the internet. I also tend to make shit up because I fuckin LOVE worldbuilding! Please be patient with me. I’m here to roleplay, not play Um, Actually.
11. I’m not here to start drama, nor am I keen on being dragged into it, HOWEVER, if you have a problem with my friends, you have a problem with me. Trying to pit me against a partner will result in an instant block.
12. If you’re a bigot of any kind or you support known abusers (I.E. Am*er He*rd), stay off my blog.
13. I don’t roleplay with people who FC hunt. If you’re only interested in my characters because of the FC I use, we’re not compatible partners. If I see a tag on your blog like ‘wanted opposite’ or ‘wanted partner’ or something to that effect, it will result in an immediate unfollow/block.
0 notes
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1. No godmodding. Don’t try to control my character, and don’t automatically assume he’s going to conform to what you want him to do.
2. Anon hate is cowardly and stupid. If you have an issue with me, my characters, or my roleplaying style, just message me about it so that we can work things out like mature and civilized folks. Any Anon hate will be met with shameless mocking and roasted like chestnuts over a fire.
3. Mun is 18+. While NSFW themes such as violence, blood, torture, and criminal acts MAY be present, smut will not be written unless it’s with a partner I know extremely well. If an rp gets to that point, I would much prefer a fade-out or time-skip. I am not personally comfortable with writing smut. However, cuddling, teasing, kissing, and make-out sessions are more than welcome.
4. Please be aware that I have a job that takes up most of my time and energy, and that I have ADHD and autism, and that I might not be able to reply for hours or days on end. If you think I may have forgotten a thread, feel free to message me politely about it, but please be patient with me. I’m trying my best! Sometimes my brain weasels just won’t cooperate.
5. This is a sideblog. I follow back from @foxytonic ~
6. Mun does not equal muse! Jett might do fucked up shit, including but not limited to murder. Just because I write it does not mean I condone it. This blog will also deal with heavy subjects such as death and PTSD. I will try to tag triggers appropriately, but if you need something specific tagged, please don’t be afraid to tell me.
7. When sending memes/starters from a multimuse, please specify which muse they are from, or I will choose a random one.
8. This blog will contain HP/Wizarding World content. Scroll at your own risk. But please know that I don’t support TERF bullshit. I’m tired of letting the internet police what I’m allowed to be interested in, and I refuse to let JKR’s actions kill the joy of my youth. She can suck it!
9. Don’t reblog/like starter calls or open starters if you are not a roleplay blog or have no intention of replying after I do. Don’t reblog closed starters or rp threads if you aren’t my partner.
10. Although I do research my muses before writing them, I don’t know absolutely everything about witchcraft, and I’m limited by what content I can find on the internet. I also tend to make shit up because I fuckin LOVE worldbuilding! Please be patient with me. I’m here to roleplay, not play Um, Actually.
11. I’m not here to start drama, nor am I keen on being dragged into it, HOWEVER, if you have a problem with my friends, you have a problem with me. Trying to pit me against a partner will result in an instant block.
12. If you’re a bigot of any kind or you support known abusers (I.E. Am*er He*rd), stay off my blog.
13. I don’t roleplay with people who FC hunt. If you’re only interested in my characters because of the FC I use, we’re not compatible partners. If I see a tag on your blog like ‘wanted opposite’ or ‘wanted partner’ or something to that effect, it will result in an immediate unfollow/block.
0 notes
Text
1. No godmodding. Don’t try to control my character, and don’t automatically assume he’s going to conform to what you want him to do.
2. Anon hate is cowardly and stupid. If you have an issue with me, my characters, or my roleplaying style, just message me about it so that we can work things out like mature and civilized folks. Any Anon hate will be met with shameless mocking and roasted like chestnuts over a fire.
3. Mun is 18+. While NSFW themes such as violence, blood, torture, and criminal acts MAY be present, smut will not be written unless it’s with a partner I know extremely well. If an rp gets to that point, I would much prefer a fade-out or time-skip. I am not personally comfortable with writing smut. However, cuddling, teasing, kissing, and make-out sessions are more than welcome.
4. Please be aware that I have a job that takes up most of my time and energy, and that I have ADHD and autism, and that I might not be able to reply for hours or days on end. If you think I may have forgotten a thread, feel free to message me politely about it, but please be patient with me. I’m trying my best! Sometimes my brain weasels just won’t cooperate.
5. This is a sideblog. I follow back from @foxytonic ~
6. Mun does not equal muse! Tanc might do fucked up shit, including but not limited to murder. Just because I write it does not mean I condone it. This blog will also deal with heavy subjects such as death and PTSD. I will try to tag triggers appropriately, but if you need something specific tagged, please don’t be afraid to tell me.
7. When sending memes/starters from a multimuse, please specify which muse they are from, or I will choose a random one.
8. This blog will contain HP/Wizarding World content. Scroll at your own risk. But please know that I don’t support TERF bullshit. I’m tired of letting the internet police what I’m allowed to be interested in, and I refuse to let JKR’s actions kill the joy of my youth. She can suck it!
9. Don’t reblog/like starter calls or open starters if you are not a roleplay blog or have no intention of replying after I do. Don’t reblog closed starters or rp threads if you aren’t my partner.
10. Although I do research my muses before writing them, I don’t know absolutely everything about witchcraft, and I’m limited by what content I can find on the internet. I also tend to make shit up because I fuckin LOVE worldbuilding! Please be patient with me. I’m here to roleplay, not play Um, Actually.
11. I’m not here to start drama, nor am I keen on being dragged into it, HOWEVER, if you have a problem with my friends, you have a problem with me. Trying to pit me against a partner will result in an instant block.
12. If you’re a bigot of any kind or you support known abusers (I.E. Am*er He*rd), stay off my blog.
13. I don’t roleplay with people who FC hunt. If you’re only interested in my characters because of the FC I use, we’re not compatible partners. If I see a tag on your blog like ‘wanted opposite’ or ‘wanted partner’ or something to that effect, it will result in an immediate unfollow/block.
0 notes
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