#LUSCINAI

[clawsextended]

@luscinai asked: s-e-l-i-n-a, the child signs. frowns. she's not sure if she's gotten that correct, glassy blue eyes looking up between selina and holly in hopes of some feedback. she's not too used to this yet, this whole communication thing, but it doesn't stop her from trying. how are you?

the cat’s smile immediately brightens. it gets bigger and bigger as the child moves her hands — it’s a limitless joy, a happiness far as the eye can see. the effort makes her heart skip a couple beats.

“great, doveling. even better to be talking to you.”

“….is a high-five still sign? it feels kinda universal or something.”

the kitten can’t help but ask, holding her palm out patiently to receive the request.

[rubycaped]

@luscinai asked:

"grandma!" following the door bursting open is the sight of myra flying into the room, wide smile and all, in her still-too-small arms a present in red and black wrappers. behind her, just by the doorway, is lucille with the faint quirk of her lips and a tray of food--pancakes just the way kate likes it. "hey, mom." she chuckles as myra scrambles to climb on her grandma's bed in unmatched enthusiasm. "i was going to let you sleep in, but your grandkid decided we have to do the whole breakfast in bed. happy birthday." "happy birthday!" myra chimes in, eyes sparkling with joy. "i wrapped your present this year!" that would explain the mildly messy state of the wrapping.

for the longest time, Kate never thought she'd find joy in her birthday again. for decades she would forgo any self celebration and spend the day in silent reflection of her mom, a visit to her grave to update her on life. it was a sombre day for her.

however since Lucille came into her life, that changed. questions were asked, hearts were mended. slowly Kate found herself enjoying whenever her daughter wished her a happy birthday.

" morning, bubbeleh. " she had been awake for hours already, but stayed in bed when she realised what the pair were up to in the other room. " oh wow, look at that - you did such a good job, honey. I almost don't want to open it and ruin such a master piece. "

the gift could have been anything and she'd love it, whatever her girls got for her was the best gift ever. with a huge grin, she pulled her grandkid in for a smooch on her cheek. " its perfect, I love it. I love you. "

[thanatologie]

@luscinai - He feels like he'd have specific standards for stationary send me a headcanon/fact about emmrich - i'll rate it / accepting

10/10 - subpar stationery is sniffed at in this good home.  it wasn't always that way, you know.  back when he was a broke as hell student he'd take what he could get and he'd have been happy for it.  and he'll still scribble on the scraps of paper that the lighthouse passes around for notes and stuff - things like adding requests to the grocery lists, the notes the wisps like to steal, stuff like that.

but for his own writing?  oh, no, much like with the drinkware before lucanis buys him a set of antivan wine glasses, he is picky.  the ink has to be permanent / archival.  it has to dry fast, but not absorb so fast into even cheap paper it causes feathering.  he likes paper that's smooth, but has just a touch of tooth, because there's some real asmr going on with the slight scratch nibs make on that kind of paper.  pens have to be smooth, but not too smooth, and wet but not firehoses, because he writes neatly, but he also writes fast, and he's an extra fine or fine nib kinda guy.  he has a stash of blotting paper somewhere in his desk.  

in a modern au he'd carry a 1980s montblanc 149, tuned by mike matsuyama and probably filled with platinum carbon black.  his notebooks would all be original tomoe river 52gsm paper and he has like a bookshelf full, but he'd absolutely give you one if you asked, even if it's the last of its kind.  i think he'd also be delighted with iroshizuku yama-budo, inkwise.

[sonicanary]

@luscinai liked for a starter.

Not a Robin, or any type of batbaby. She was also sure that Ollie didn't add any arrow kids to his collection... But who else then ? Not a speedster for surer. Perhaps an amazon ? That seemed very unlikely. "Hey, thanks for the help," big guys were being tied to a fire hydrant by the younger lady, police signals would resound soon around and nearer. "May I have a name to put on this mask ? I'm Black Canary by the way," she told her holding her hand out for the other to check. "I scream but I don't bite," she teased.

[batcrested]

"And what's all this stuff for?" Red Robin folded his arms across his chest and leaned his shoulder against the nearby wall, watching the other flit back and forth around the room. "Can I help with anything?"

@luscinai // starter call

[emeraldbuilt]

Why did Gotham create vigilantes like this? They were the most hard-headed - willful - it was a surprise that none of Earth's GLs had come from there. "And I thought Batman acted wildly," he mumbled under his breath, face in his hand. "Job got done well enough this time so I'll keep my mouth shut about the unnecessary risks. But next time how about we go with a plan?"

@luscinai LIKED FOR A PARA STARTER

[clawsextended]

@luscinai asked: “Alcohol is the anaesthesia by which we endure the operation of life.”

the cat’s brow quirks. head tilts. she tracks a gaze with her own patiently like trying to read thoughts, like trying to take it in. she’s searching for it, a way to follow a thread to unravel a tapestry. selina prefers to be the one holding all the cards.

“i don’t drink.”

she never said she wasn’t difficult.

[rubycaped]

the flames were raging.

the heat unbearable.

she had kept heavy surveillance on the facility for months and knew there was something sinister going on within it's walls. after weeks of collecting evidence, she was not about to let all her work be all for naught. thus she pushed deeper into the laboratory.

she wanted to find someone. a victim of the experiments she suspected were being performed, one of the facilitators to interrogate. anyone.

Kate had grown concerned she was far too late, that Cadmus had abandoned the lab and started the blaze to cover their tracks after perhaps learned of her spying on the building, killing those they had experimented on in the process.

the smoke was too much. every step forward had become much more difficult than the last, often coupled with a deep cough. she readied her grapple gun for a swift exit before suffocating. she pressed on.

one strong kick dislodged the debris that blocked her path to, what she hoped was, the last room to check for survivors. she almost froze when her eyes locked onto such a small figure among the dense smoke. adrenaline helped her launch toward them.

" come with me! "

@luscinai

[deathcrime]

@luscinai

Gotham, New Jersey. A city filled with some of the worst scum you could think of; the only place to rival it is Hell's Kitchen.

Frank's got his knife in his hand, pressing it up against one of Black Mask's men. "Not what I want. Tell me, where he's hiding. He's not in his penthouse, I checked." There's nothing but dead men with bullet holes in them left up there. The man sputters something about a dock warehouse, before he quickly slits his throat, dropping his body at his feet. He doesn't say anything, just wipes his blade on his vest before moving onto the next henchmen he's got. "Docks—how many there and who's with him?"

[Someone's near. They tripped one of the lasers around the perimeter.]

Micro chirps in his mic, Frank grits his teeth. There's only a few heroes that roam around Gotham, and he finds them all equally annoying.

He quickly guts the man in his grasp and drops him, too. "Come out." He quickly brings out his gun and points it in the dark.

"If you're one of the bat brats, I'm gonna have to tell you—you're too late."

[reawakcn]

[ @luscinai ] "There probably should not be a fire here." / for eryn! | railjack | accepting

Eryn sucks a breath in between her teeth, heaving herself over the ledge to be met with the fire in question. The glow above, of course, had left little to be imagined, but the blast of heat as she came face to face with it was enough to feel as if she were staring at the sun. "Yeah, I- imagine not."

Yet at the same time, extinguishing it would take precious time they simply did not have. Green eyes dart quickly around the area, looking for another route. Something. Eryn covers the lower half of her face, burying it in the crook of her elbow ( coughing, eyes watering, unable to escape the smoke even through the worn sleeve ).

Fierfek.

"Stay close." Her other hand reached blindly towards where her fellow Padawan's voice had come from. Eryn blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision so the fire was more than just a bright orange-white-grey-black blur, and when that failed, she simply closed her eyes. Shallow breaths. In and out.

The only way to get out of here was through the fire. It would take too long to backtrack, and there was no promise of finding another route.

A piece of durasteel buckles, and for a second, the Jedi Padawan prays to a god she doesn't believe in that nothing that heavy would come down on them mid-traversal.

[mutatiio]

{ FLOWERS 🌹 } --- Sender brings flowers to receiver. / for anakin <3

anakin stood near the training room doors, thoughts drifting between what he should be doing and what he wants to be doing. would it be so bad if he skipped the rest of training and found a quiet corner to sleep meditate in?? as he wipes a beat of sweat from his forehead, his eyes catch movement - a figure approaching him, delicate and calm. it was lucille, her presence almost serene, as if she's moving in slow motion… 

she has something in her hands - flowers?? anakin's first instinct is to raise an eyebrow, a stab of jealousy as he thinks of someone giving her flowers. another at the thought of her giving them to someone who wasn't him. but she's stopping in front of him. he takes a step backward as the bouquet is offered. his heart skips a beat, but suspicion quickly follows. he's played her games before.

"lucille…" he begins, voice cautious and uncertain. he takes the flowers slowly, fingers brushing against hers. "what's this about?? what's the catch??" he tips his head, studying her expression, trying so hard to read the situation.

valentine's day meme | accepting only on 14/02!!

[ataviisms]

sorry I did just read your latest ask for Mary and I can't lie I bursted out laughing akfnwjdjw. Waylon. Waylon no. Waylon—

he's just gonna---

[clawsextended]

You said anything so :3c [ META ] + Lucille! For fun

dropping this under a read more because we’re intense as fuck out here.

oh god it’s so fucking complicated. because it’s love. like eternal love. like unconditional love. but she’s older now, and the cracks have become fissures, and she can’t help but see the little girl she was whenever she looks at lucille. and it leaves a horrid, horrid lump in her throat. the little girl she used to be. the little girl who died only a tiny bit older than lucille is when she meets her. it’s seeing that that makes her so ferociously, violently protective, a different kind than holly. her protective nature of luci is feral, leaves no room for panic or hysteria. it’s efficient and violent and maintains no sanity because every time she looks at lucille she remembers a little girl without a holly, a scared child who also couldn’t connect — who didn’t turn quiet or complacent, but bit and scratched and then became who she is now…. the same grownup who bites and claws and scratches.

her ability to handle things and remain calm or blank worries selina because that’s the reflection of her own face. over and over. she looks at luci and sees the memory of a little girl no kate or selina ever saved, the memory of a little girl who no one loved and grew up to be the woman who no one knew how to love. she sees the glass wall she has to look through in every interaction — and it’s not her, not genuinely. it’s like her mind is a haunted house and the ghosts come out sometimes to haunt her into silence, lock her into a seance of her own ugliest moments. and she watches them, watches lucille implore with that enormous gaze and again the attic creaks and she remembers that look on her face.

it’s strange, and it’s cathartic, and it’s triggering, and it’s healing, and it’s suffocating. she has every feeling talking to a child so intimately close to her own immense abuse. she sees that face reflected on her own and she’s looking into nothing, catatonic, and everything, euphoric.

but the light it affords is insane. lucille’s every accomplishment is warmly her own. she takes it in her heart with no selfishness but pure joy. every time she feels more comfortable or tries something new, selina’s in tears and hugging her about it. because it’s like watching a part of herself heal that no one had ever loved. maybe if lucille is lovable, maybe she might’ve been, too, even if she doesn’t know. maybe maybe maybe there’s a happiness to her every success, her every failure, because once selina had no one and nothing. once, she was empty.

and no, she’s not full, now. but if lucille can be better, can love, can be holly’s sister wholly and purely and actually and really, maybe she can be better, too. maybe the broken feeling does mend. maybe she won’t always be hopeless, helpless, angry.

there’s an utterly honest sense to them both. lucille has seen the worst of the worst at an age too young, was subjected to horrors herself — and selina, on a domestic level, was subjected to adjacent considerations. maybe they weren’t vivisections, weren’t drastic halogen lights and the burn of a white-hot scalpel, but they were the dark and constant fear of a shadowed room and a locked door, waiting for the next punishment. they were the waiting for her father to grab her by the neck and drag her to the kitchen to demand she make him breakfast, knowing it would come. it’s the kindred understanding that she and lucille have known too much to be mutually ‘acceptable’ for either of their ages. as a young child, luci knows terror. and so, selina doesn’t pull punches. she talks to her about things that would horrify most people… but what’s the alternative? allowing the kid to grow up until she’s ’the right age’ to discuss things? no, selina won’t let this child grow up like she did. locked deep inside her own head and now feeling like she can’t get out. she won’t allow that to fester.

lucille receives not just selina’s love, but selina’s intense patience. she doesn’t hurry things or statements, she listens and interprets. when lucille can’t speak, she’ll sign, and she’ll try to do the same for herself when she’s overstimulated, just to be a good example. she quickly adapts to her needs… well, the way any mother would.

she loves her with all her heart. and she displays it constantly as vividly as she can the same as she does with all her children. they’re sacred to her, not because they’re her legacy, but because they’re her love.

[yoakkemae]

@luscinai ♡'d & got martha jones.

' stay still -- you lost consciousness for a few minutes. '

[deathcrime]

' do i look capable of making healthy life choices? ' / for frank lmfao

"Fuck no." Frank is blunt, he's the bat sweeping at your knees. "You're asking the wrong fuckin' guy if you want anything healthy. I took too many whacks to the head to even be on a panel if they asked for one."

[rubycaped]

@luscinai said: ❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜ // assorted dialogue prompts // open

though she had heard the question, her brain was still trying to process what Lu had asked. it had, in fact, been around nine days since Kate had gotten any real sleep. running solely on caffeine and hour long power naps.

her hands were curled around a mug of ginger tea and a tablet filled with dozens of reports and police transcripts downloaded from Bruce's and Oracle's servers. Kate had offered to take on "smaller" crimes that had fallen through the cracks with the rise of the bigger name rogues being at large.

initially to spend more time with her daughter outside of work - however she had gotten obsessed with helping as many people as she could, thus a lack of sleep as she had spread herself thin.

" uh, 9:45 pm. " that's what she wanted to know ... the time right?