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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years

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Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 3. Shorts Fired

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This chapter originally contained Daryl...Then I remembered that conflicted with Canon and changed it, but he’ll appear soon. Additionally, I got a request to start a tag list so if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me

Also in the event that the link’s don’t work I’ve started adding a hashtag to this series: AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

“This is what we found sir,” Simon said, his team depositing a bag, a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a knife with your name engraved on the side. Negan picked up the knife, eyeing at the dry blood on the blade.

“She put up a fight” he commented, a smirk on his face. “That’s my girl.” He looked back at Simon from his seat in the meeting room. “We’ll find her” Simon’s men looked at each other nervously. Simon found his mouth dry and had to clear his throat to keep talking.

“Sir...We found her...she”

“Then where the hell is she?” your father asked, interrupting Simon as you would interrupt him. The room went incredibly quiet.

“She turned, sir.” Simon spoke. Negan froze for a moment before falling back into his chair. “We...captured her... if you’d like to see.” Wordlessly Negan rose from his seat and rushed towards the exit, specifically to the van Simon had been out in.

The shutter raised and low and behold, there stood a walker. Her face had been devoured but she was wearing your clothes, right down to the military boots you never took off, despite how many nice clothes and shoes he’d find for you. ‘Just encase’ you said.

Looking at the walker growl and reach for him, Negan felt numb. He now realised he hadn’t dropped your knife. “Gimme a minute” he ordered, climbing into the van and closing the door behind him.

Now it was just Negan and the walker, he began to tear up. “I’m sorry y/n.” he whispered before reaching behind and destroying her brain. It fell and he cradled her in his arms as he wept. “I’m so sorry. I tried to keep you safe, princess.” he rocked back and forth gently, stroking it’s hair as he mumbled to himself “I’m so sorry”

The night of your escape you broke into a thrift store to get some new clothes, though it’d hardly count as breaking in as whoever owned it was probably dead. You found some old khakis, a tie-dye shirt, and a black sweatshirt that had seen better days. It wasn’t much but it was warm. If only they had socks. You pulled on a pair of trainers and ran, wanting as much distance between you and Sanctuary as possible before your old man got back.

From there it wasn’t easy. Food was gone, ammunition didn’t exist, and the closest thing you had to a bed was a car with the doors closed. Anyone else would crack under these circumstances, but not you. You had experienced stuff arguably worse than this. You were a trained soldier with experience on foreign battlefields, so a few undead going bump in the night wouldn’t stop you from sleeping. What did keep you awake was the memories.

“You shouldn’t take those with booze, ma” you interjected, your mother just gave you a filthy look from over the edge of her bourbon glass. “I am the mother, you are the child. Remember your place.” was the usual reply, and that was the reply you preferred. It meant she’d spend the night cursing you out, picking apart your flaws, and blaming you for your old man’s fooling around. The words were easier to deal with than dodging a flying glass.

You were 15 when your mother got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and your world went from sunshine and rainbows to cleaning up after your mother passed out so she wouldn’t be embarrassed in the morning and letting your dad in at 4 in the morning so the neighbours didn’t see him. In the morning your mother would make you pancakes to say sorry, even though any movement would hurt her. Your father would slip you twenty bucks for ‘being a team sport’.

You had accepted that your mother just didn’t have the nerve to confront your father on all his cheating because she was worried she’d leave him, and your father was an idiot that was more bothered by the parents at the school he teaches at finding out that he screwed around then what he was doing to your family. You accepted it. You understood it. That didn’t mean you forgave them. It also didn’t mean you wouldn’t call them every chance, that you wouldn’t send a hundred letters to them every year, that you wouldn’t kiss their cheeks while declaring ‘I love you’ to all that heard.

Every morning you woke at what you believed to be 6 am. It had been hardwired into you from your service. You’d start walking in the same direction, trying to get as far from Sanctuary as possible, though your speed was slow and you often stopped at towns or houses to scavenge. Now and then you’d stumble into houses that had gardens or farms that had been overrun. Usually, there were more walkers than food but you had secured a rather sharp knife to replace the arrow you’d been using to bring down walkers quietly. You also carried your things in a child’s school bag, being the most together bag you could find at the thrift shop. The bright pink glitter didn’t go with your desire to stay low but sacrifices had to be made, such as hygiene.

Your form was weak from a strong lack of food, your feet were raw from the constant walking, you were constantly exhausted. Taking down walkers with the kitchen knife had become muscle memory. Hand on chest, knife in head, hand on chest, knife in head, and so on. You felt more dead than alive when a gunshot fired somewhere behind you. You swirled around to see a clearly a few steps right of you and a walker being downed. You put the math together and knelt into the foileage. “Sasha what are you doing?” you heard a lady call from far off. A moment later you noticed your sleeve feeling more and more damp. A quick glance confirmed blood, making you curse under your breath.

The gun shot attracted more of the biters out of the forest and into the clearing to see this Sasha character, but three were more interested in the smell of your blood. You cursed again, jumping back and taking steps away from the clearly. You reached for your gun on instinct before realising it would probably attract the people, and you didn’t want that. To make matters worse your shot arm was your stabbing arm. Flexing the arm caused the blood to start pouring so you took the kitchen knife in your other hand, the walkers approaching you. Having little time to react you kicked one back, sending it into a bush while another lunged at you. You narrowly sunk the knife into its skull, though the combination of it falling on you and your lack of good footing sent you backward, banging your head off a tree. Your head began ringing when the third reached for you over the lunger, giving you enough space to swing your arm and shove it through it’s temple.

You turned to get the two corpses off you, settling into a squat against the tree as the first offending walker got to its feet. You flipped the knife in your hand as it wandered towards you, using the tree to stand up quickly and stabbing up through its neck. The last one fell and you heard more shuffling through the woods. “I’m coming with you”. Crap it was those people. You ducked behind your support tree, the sudden exertion making your arm bleed. You clasped a hand over it as you bit your lip, watching from behind the tree. Three women walked by, two following another with a large rifle. ‘Are they from an outpost?’ you thought. You waited a while for them to pass with short breath, not wanting to risk them looking for you.

When you were sure you were in the clear you ran, making note not to run in the direction they came from or were heading. You ran and ran until you found a gas station. There were a couple of walkers in there but you needed something to dress your wound. You took a step back and shot through the glass at the first, getting the second with your knife when it stumbled through the shattered window.

Walking in you noticed it was a treasure trove. Most of the shelves still had their goods and the first aid pack was still there. Taking off your shirt you were relieved to find the bullet had only grazed you and the bleeding was slowing. Still, you cleaned and dressed the wound, popping a lollipop in your mouth for good measure.

You only got a few bottles of water and some stale chips in your bag when a car pulled up. You dove behind the counter without thinking, pulling the walker you shot over your body. Cracking glass signaling they had walked in.

“I thought this place was locked up” a man’s voice spoke out.

“It was” another man’s voice replied. “Whoever broke in didn’t clear it. Come on”. You heard shuffling, then felt someone kick your leg.

“Anything behind there?” the woman called.

“Nah, just a couple of dead ones.” you tried to maintain your stillness when what you assumed was one of the men, stepped on the back of the walker, and pushed the air out of you. It took everything to maintain your quiet when he reached for your bag, cutting it off your shoulder. You stole a look to see a man with long messy hair, a button-up opened over a t-shirt, and a sheriff’s hat rustling through your stuff.

“This one had a first aid pack,” he called, pulling everything from your bag into his own. You made a mental note to kill this man the next time you saw him.

You lay as still and as silent as you could until you heard the car drive off again. You pushed the dead off you and dived for your bag, looking through it just to confirm what you already knew. He took everything. Your bullets, your food, everything. You threw the bag across the floor cursing. You sat on the ground, your head in your hands. You stared at nothing until an old map caught you. You slowly pulled it out of the hole it had been shoved in between the counter and the register and unraveled it, wanting something to look at other than your distinct lack of supplies. The map must’ve been used by the previous manager, because your current location was clearly marked and the DC city limits weren’t that far out. Your eyes lit up

‘The only place left with stuff would be the city. They had a refugee centre.’ you thought. You sat there a moment longer, soaking in your helplessness. Standing up from behind the counter you realised how badly they’d empty the place. The shelves didn’t even have the dust on them anymore. You took off your shirt, using it to pick up a piece of shattered glass, then walked over to one of the walkers to start carving it open. If you were to brave DC without weapons you’d need a disguise.

After soaking yourself in undead guts you repurposed the walker’s shirt to hold your make-shift blade. The walk into the city was short once you cut through the woods. As expected the road was lined with cars and walkers, non paying you any attention. You walked into an abandoned RV to check your wound, making sure no infection had seeped in. Once you opened the door some walkers lunged at you, making you step in quicker. Immediately your nose filled with a vile stench, causing you to vomit into the entryway. In your new position, bending over with your hands on the floor sitting in your vomit, you could see the cause of the smell from the corner of your eye.

You walked over slowly to the back of the rv in case they turned, but also to clarify the image as the bodies had been decaying for so long. The blood spatter confirmed a gunshot. It looked like a woman in a summer dress and two young children. Pinned to a board above the bed were some pictures. Smiling children, older people with drinks in hand, and a happy family on the beach; A mother, a father, and two children barely out of their toddler years. You looked up and down the alley, no sight of a fourth family member.

“Coward ran” you mumbled to yourself. The covers lay at the bottom of the bed. You grabbed them and pulled them over the family.

A little bit of scavenging brought you a new ruck-sack in a dirty green colour, two bottles of water, some painkillers, and a pair of socks. You celebrated silently before you put them on, already feeling the old trainers rub your feet raw. As you closed the presses something in the bathroom cubby began to move. Clawing at the door but not sure how to get out. If he couldn’t get out then only one thing came to mind.

“Guess you weren’t a coward.”

You opened the door, the walker falling out and quickly meeting your glass, it breaking off in his head. You picked him up and laid him down with the family, noticing he was wearing the same shirt as in the picture above the bed. You felt jealous of the family, but you pushed it down. Now wasn’t the time. As luck would have it the walker was keeping a hunting rifle with a low power scope in his cubicle, along with five bullets. You picked it up, looking it over. You hadn’t used one of these before the world went to shit but what time better than the end of the world to get a refresher lesson.

Getting into the city was relatively easy, finding your way through the crowd, down an alley, on top of a garbage can, and in through an old apartment window into a complex with only a couple of the dead following you. They groaned and reached into the higher window, but you were safe in someone else’s sitting room. You jumped up when another walker strutted in from another apartment room. All you had were two guns and firing either one of them would drag too much attention.

You looked around for anything to use but it was on you before you could act, pushing you back towards the window. Pinned to the breaking frame by the undead and more of them reaching for you from the back you pushed against it with all your strength, its jaw snapping at you. You took in a deep breath and pushed back with all you had, sending it to the ground running to the other side of the common space. It rose confidently from behind the couch looking around there was a tv to your left and a dead potted plant to your right.

It walked around and lunged at you just as you got the potted plant off the floor, swinging it around and knocking it to the ground. Before it could get up again you dropped the plant on its head, followed shortly by the tv for good measure. You leaned against the wall, causing it to crumble and collapse, sending you back into a child’s bedroom. You coughed as the dust fell on you, pulling yourself into a sitting position. Looking into the sitting room you now noticed it featured a kitchen area, complete with a full block of knives staring right back at you.

You gathered up the knives and went up a floor, wanting some distance between the dead and yourself. It seemed the complex had been cleared, but that made sense since it was the city. You found an apartment with a street view and made your camp, pulling an old mattress from the bedroom into the common room to keep watch. You opened a window to clear a little of the dust from the room. You’d sleep here tonight then move more in the city later. You found some books in the apartment. ‘Jane Eyre’, ‘Little Women’, ‘Get Slime in 40 days’. It painted the image of some sad spinster trying to better herself to get back at the world. ‘The Woman’s Guide to Single Life’ added a frame to that image.

“Come on!” you heard a man yell, followed by a gunshot. You fell to the ground instantly, crouched over, and crawled to the window. Peering out there was a sight to behold. It was the same hat-sporting man, no a boy, and an older man with a beard with a herd on their heels. They’d be at your window. You loaded a bullet in the chamber of your hunting rifle, using the scope you had it on the older man’s head in moments since he had a larger bag on his back. All you had to do was squeeze the trigger and he’d be down, dropping his stuff and maybe the other would be eaten and you could take your stuff too. All you had to do was squeeze that trigger.

“Dad!” The boy screamed out when a dead grabbed his bag, your scope moved in a moment and the walker was downed. They looked around wildly while running. You made a rash decision and stuck your head out the window and yelled to them as you reloaded the gun.

“Hey you two, round the corner there’s a busted window! Get to it!”. They seemed to understand and began sprinting. You took down one behind the man that had gotten too close, then another. You heard a thump downstairs just as you ran out of ammo.

You walked out of your apartment just as they came up the stairs, you pointed the gun at them in defense. “Stay right there”

The two stood with their hands up. They glanced at each other and then you. The older man began to speak. “Thank you for-”

“If you wanna thank me, give me back my shit” you cut him short.

“We didn’t take anything from you.” the boy in the hat replied.

“Three bottles of water, two packets of chips, and the first aid kit.” you retorted, noticing the shock in the man's eyes. You motioned the gun to the boy “You cut the bag off my arm back at the gas station. The pink glitter thing.”

The man swallowed hard “We can’t. That stuff. We have people that need it-”

“I could have fucking killed you. Is that not worth shit?” The silence that followed made it all worse.

“Listen, I’m Rick Grimes, This is my son, Carl” He motioned to the boy behind him “We come from a place. A safe place with walls. If you let us keep your stuff you can come back with us. We can give you a safe place to live.” The rest of his words turned into white noise after you heard his name.

“Alexandria?” You questioned, a sad smile coming to your face. “You’re not gathering stuff for your own people, are you?” you lowered your gun a little.

“You know these people?” the boy asked, getting angry. You nodded solemnly.

“Look, I’m not going back with you, but I’ll offer you a deal. Give me the first aid kit and I’ll give you this gun” you said, holding up the rifle to further your point.

“We need it,” Carl argued.

“So do I.” You rose your short sleeve to show the bandage. “Some asshole nearly shot out there.” Carl reached into the older man’s bag, Rick immediately telling him not to.

“She saved us,” he argued, pulling out the red plastic pack.

“One good turn deserves another,” he stood up and went to hand it to you before you raised the rifle again, shaking your head no. You motioned to the ground, where he put it down. You once again motioned to the ground and he kicked it over. You knelt down, placed down the rifle, and snatched up the kit before diving back into your room, slamming the door shut.

You rushed over to your bag, grabbing it and shoving the kit in. “This is empty!” you heard Rick yell as you dove out the window onto the fire escape and descending back to the streets.

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@softsebastian

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cheri-translates · 4 years

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[CN] Gavin’s Private Photoshoot Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Valentine’s 2020 Collection: Kiro // Lucien // Victor

MC wants to go for a couple photoshoot with Gavin but is afraid of getting rejected. To lessen the potential blow of rejection, she asks Willow to play “matchmaker” and pretend that Willow won the chance to go for the photoshoot in a lucky draw but has no use for it

Gavin arrives, and MC fumbles with her reasons as to how the photoshoot would be beneficial for her work. To her surprise, Gavin agrees without a fuss

On the day of the photoshoot, they head to Planet Photo Studio

MC is unsure which theme to go for, so the photographer recommends a rather sultry theme incorporating feathers and spider webs. She asks Gavin for his opinion, and he is fine with it after making sure MC doesn’t have to wear revealing clothing

They change into their outfits, and she gets stunned by how he looks:

The slightly modified style matches the striped shirt Gavin is wearing. A feather-shaped pendant rests near his slightly exposed chest. It perfectly brings out the casualness that oozes from Gavin’s bones.

Noticing my eyes lingering on him, the corners of Gavin’s mouth lift.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Nothing much. I rarely see you dressed like this, so I’m a little surprised. What I mean by “surprised” is… that you look exceptionally handsome!

Not expecting my straightforward compliment, Gavin coughs lightly, and turns his head to the side to hide his blush.

Gavin: You surprised me today as well… Let’s go in.

MC’s confidence in doing the photoshoot eventually wanes because the photographer isn’t satisfied with how the photos turn out

The photographer comments that Gavin and MC seem to be too focused in aligning themselves with the theme of the photoshoot, but she wants to capture the real MC and Gavin, not just the feathers and spider webs.

According to the sequence of the photoshoot, the next pose requires me to sit on Gavin’s lap.

I repeat to myself internally: “This photoshoot requires me to be intimate. Just be natural, be intimate…” I let out a breath, and carefully sit on Gavin’s lap.

However, my stiff body feels like a wooden puppet. My pose ends up looking neither seductive nor sexy. The fact that the photographer has yet to press the camera shutter makes me even more nervous.

At this moment, a firm hand suddenly holds my waist. Gavin’s other hand cradles the back of my neck, his fingers carrying with them irresistible strength.

The distance between us closes in an instant, and I feel the warmth of Gavin’s palm on my cheek.

Looking at my flushed face through the reflection in his amber eyes, I am about to open my mouth to speak, but hear a shutter click from the side.

They finally get a satisfactory shot, and the photographer tells them to take a break. MC realises she is still sitting on Gavin’s lap:

MC: Gavin, I should… be getting up.

Gavin: This is quite nice actually. Or do you not like it?

MC: It’s not that I don’t like it… Anyway, why did you suddenly change the pose just now?

Gavin: I felt that you were too tense. So why not transfer some of that burden and stress to me? It’s just a photoshoot, there’s no need to worry so much.

MC decides to apply lip balm for Gavin because the lights from the studio are very bright and drying:

I put a little paste on my finger, and carefully rub it on Gavin’s lips.

MC: Don’t move.

Gavin freezes, not expecting my action.

His lips feel soft under my touch. Under the light, his moisturised lips have an attractive luster.

At this moment, Gavin is within reach, and all that I see is Gavin. The familiar scent of Gavin and the foreign smell of the gel entwine, making my heart beat faster and faster.

At such a close distance, my fingers can feel each and every single warm breath of his.

Under his amber gaze, his scorching breaths seem to be getting closer and closer…

Unfortunately they get interrupted by the photographer who tells them that the shoot can continue.

After the photoshoot, Gavin leaves for a mission which takes half a month.

In the present, MC receives a call from the photoshoot studio telling her that the photos are ready, so she collects them and goes to Gavin’s house to drop them off.

Gavin coincidentally returns from his mission while she is there, and she decides to tidy the place up while waiting for him to finish bathing. He finishes his bath, decked in the same striped white shirt he wore during the photoshoot. He sees her tidying the place:

Gavin: No need to trouble yourself. I can tidy the place up later.

MC: It’s no trouble at all. You should rest!

While saying this, I pull Gavin over to the sofa, beckoning him to sit down.

MC: Every time I’m at your house, you always treat me like a guest. I also want to t-treat this place as… as…

Even though I had rehearsed these two lines several times in my head, they end up stuck in my throat at the most important moment.

Gavin understands my expression and smiles, voicing the words I have yet to say.

Gavin: As your home.

MC: Exactly! So there’s nothing wrong with cleaning and maintaining the hygiene of one’s own home! If you feel bad about it, then… when I call you to help me with window-cleaning in a few days, we’d be even.

Gavin: Sure, I’ll be waiting for your call.

He asks why she decided to drop by, and she explains that the photos from the photoshoot are ready. He comments that he had planned to organise photos from previous shoots too, so they take a trip down memory lane while looking through past photos on Gavin’s bed.

Some photos include blurry pictures of MC that Gavin took hastily whenever he spotted MC during missions but couldn’t say hello.

Suddenly, MC receives a business call and she leaves the room to deal with it. By the time she comes back, Gavin is asleep:

I quietly sit on the bed, a little angry at how Gavin always tries to be strong.

I can’t help but lean over and gently poke Gavin’s face… it feels nice.

This light touch seems to turn on a switch within me, and it is as though I am under a spell, addicted to it.

Gavin’s hair is coarser than I imagined, reminiscent of how persevering he is.

The bridge of his nose… a bone? No wonder his nose is so pretty.

My touches continue downwards. The second my fingers reach the corner of his lips, my mind brings me back to the scene half a month before when I was helping him apply the lip balm. It was this same softness, the same warm breaths that wrapped themselves around my fingertips…

I am just about to finish my little prank, but realise that my fingers are gripped onto tightly by Gavin. It is as though I am awakened from a dream, and I take in a shocked breath.

MC: Gavin…?

Gavin: …Mm?

Gavin blearily opens an eye before letting out a light yawn. My face flushes in surprise and shame, yet I pretend that nothing had happened.

MC: Y-you… When did you wake up?

Gavin: Just. I felt an itch.

MC: I didn’t mean to wake you, just that I rarely see you sleeping, so… Please continue sleeping! I’m really not going to bother you anymore!

I think of retracting my hand, but Gavin has no intention of letting go. Instead, he rubs the back of my fingers with his thumb.

Gavin: It’s not convenient for us to talk like this, let’s change positions.

Before I can agree, Gavin pulls me into his arms, the bed letting out a squeak from the weight.

MC: Shall we continue with the photos?

Gavin: We can do that later.

He hugs me a little tighter, his chin resting on my forehead, and I feel the roughness of his stubble.

MC: … Did you forget to shave?

Gavin: Does it hurt?

MC: No…. This is good.

And that is the truth. A simple clean home and an easy-going Gavin who doesn’t put up walls around me. Being able to enjoy a rare sliver of rest in such a busy world – There is nothing more pleasant than this.

Gavin: When you were taking the call, I looked at the photoshoot pictures. It was a little…

MC: “A little” what? Do you not like it?

Gavin: No, I like it very much. It’s just that the “you” in the photo didn’t really seem like you. Your pose was far more assertive than usual.

Just remembering the warmth of the photoshoot causes my entire face to blush.

MC: T-that’s only because of the photographer’s professional skills, the atmosphere and the lighting! Though I am rather passive in real life…

Gavin: You were quite assertive this time round.

MC: Hm?

I look up, not understanding what Gavin means. Gavin looks down at me at the same time. We are so close that our noses are almost touching, and I can see each and every one of Gavin’s eyelashes, and the narrowing of his eyes.

Gavin: When you and Willow were in the pantry discussing how she should play “matchmaker”, Minor was standing outside.

MC: So you knew from the start that I would invite you? Minor that little… I’m going to dock his-

Before I can complete my sentence with “pay”, Gavin seals my lips with a kiss.

His tongue pries open my lips, capturing all my lines of defense.

Gavin’s lips are even warmer than they were when I applied lip balm for him during the photoshoot, and it feels as though I am about to get scalded.

In the midst of the unbearable heat, I let out a whimper which is instantly swallowed by Gavin.

In the quiet bedroom, there are only sounds of our entangled breaths.

The photos we have yet to put away fall around us. These past moments witness this present kiss.

After a long while, Gavin’s voice is at my ear.

Gavin: Apart from photographs, I can give you even more private memories.

Gavin’s breath is as overwhelming as a spider’s web that leaves one defenseless.

The sound of the blinds being pulled shut is reminiscent of a camera’s clear shutter.

Click.

📷

Phone calls: First // Second

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #love and producer #mlqc spoilers #mlqc cn

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katsuukiwii · 4 years

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Levi SFW Alphabet

WARNING: Too much cuteness, read at your own risk.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?): Levi is very awkward when it comes to romance, that’s just how he’s always been. His usual way is making you some tea, or doing paperwork with you while you hold hands. The most romantic he’ll get is him letting you sit in his lap while he does paperwork, or cuddling. Also he doesn’t know that you hate the way he drinks tea but you still take it bc you know it makes him happy.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?): He would be an awesome best friend, because he knows you understand him. It’s not often people get to realize that he’s not that bad! The friendship would probably start through either meeting in the underground, or through training. He’d give you one-on-one lessons, where he would eventually get to know you better.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?): He loves cuddling, but it’s usually more favorable to him when you two cuddle. That’s because he likes being the little spoon! He loves spooning, but usually he likes when he has both arms wrapped around your waist, yours draped on his shoulders while his head lays on your chest. But he also loves when he’s laying on his back with you laying on top of him on your stomach.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?): We all know he’s better at cleaning than Mr. Clean himself. He’s also a relatively good cook! He’d love to settle down with you, but it would DEFINETLY be after the titans are gone, and it would be in a safe area. He worries about you!

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?): He’d be crushed, but he’d also be very glad. Of course, it would suck to break up with you. But he’d rather have broken up with you than have one of you dead. If he HAD to do this, he’d be very understanding of your feelings, and try not to hurt you too much.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?): He knows nothing good lasts forever, except for love. So he’d love to get married to you. He’s just fine with commitment, there’s nothing wrong there. He’d like to wait maybe two years before getting married so he knows you’re the one AND so he knows you love him back enough to get married!

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?): Emotionally, he’s a closeted cinnamon roll. So he’s SUPER gentle emotionally. Physically though, he’s rather rough. He always killing these GIANT beasts and training so he gets scared when he’s trying to be careful with you. With him, tickle fights can feel like brutal scratching because of his calloused hands. You’ve walked in on him soaking his hands multiple times, so he can keep from hurting you. It’s cute.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?): He loves hugs! His favorite hugs are when his S/O hugs him from behind, wrapping their arms around his shoulders carefully, and pulling him close. He doesn’t hug you regularly, but he does every now and then! His hugs are always the ‘as if I’ll never see you again’ hugs. He pulls you close, nuzzling his face into your shoulder, maybe giving you a peck on the cheek.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?): It takes him a while to say this. He wants to, he really does, but every time he lets himself get close to somebody something tragic happens to them. Isabel, Farlan, Kuchel, Petra, Oluo, etc. He doesn’t WANT to love you but he knows he can’t help it. He’ll tell you after 6 months at LEAST!

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?): Levi doesn’t get jealous, he knows you love him! but if he does get jealous, his face will be flushed a light pink out of frustration and embarrassment as he hugs you close, hiding his blush from anybody else around.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?): His kisses are short and sweet! But he ALWAYS lets you know how much he loves you in those kisses! Levi likes to kiss your cheeks, and nose! With him, he likes being kissed on his forehead and on his shoulder. It makes him feel safe!

L = Little ones (How are they around children?): He would be TERRIFIED to have babies. He definitely wants kids, but like I said earlier, he’s naturally very rough physically, he can’t help it! He’d also like to wait until after the titans are gone for this! He wants to ensure that nothing TOO horrible will happen, and that if something bad DOES happen, he can protect you all.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?): He’s usually awake before you, WAY before you. But mornings with Levi are probably the best part of the day for him, and for you! He loves when you’re the first thing he sees. He’s a sleep snuggler, so he usually wakes up with his arms wrapped around you tightly. If you really try, you can actually make him stay in with you! Every morning, he takes you into the bathroom where you both get a shower! He likes to hug you from behind while you wash the suds off your body, and you often see a content smile on his face!

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?): Just like the morning, you both get a shower before going to bed! Yes, 2 showers every day. Being in the corps makes you all sweaty and smelly, so it’s DEFINITELY worth the time! At night, you’re both obviously sleepy. Yes, Levi has insomnia but he usually goes to bed at a normal time because of how exhausting work is. You’ll both have a hot cup of tea before bed, then cuddle until you both fall asleep!

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?): Levi’s got a pretty fucked up past. He wouldn’t date anybody unless they knew his past! He wants to know that the person he’s dating will care about him, despite what happened in the past. He’ll reveal things slowly, giving you some details, but eventually he tells you the story!

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?): Levi, despite his usual attitude, can keep his cool easily. He’s very level-headed. Of course, he has his moments where he’s especially pissy, but he’s mostly able to handle it. He’s rarely mad at you, he calls you his medicine. Literally, that’s your petname! He calls you “medicine” because only you can heal him.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?): He’ll obviously forget SOME things, but he remembers most things about you. He’ll instantly try to figure out a plan for any celebration like your birthday, christmas, etc.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?): His favorite moment in your relationship was when he was crying over a nightmare. Yup. In the nightmare, he had talked to his mother, and despite the dream being extremely wholesome, he still cried because he missed her so much. As he was sobbing in your arms you started singing a song, one his mother sang to him when he was younger. He started to calm down while you stroked his nose carefully. Yes, he was a strong, courageous man, but he still needed special treatment every now and then.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?): He’s very protective! No shock there. How? Any way he can. He can protect you emotionally, mentally, and physically. With you, he likes to be protected mentally. A lot of shit happens in the Survey Corps, so just knowing you’re there to be his medicine calms him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?): He puts a lot of effort into special events. It won’t be the BIGGEST thing, but he definitely tried his hardest, and just knowing that is enough! Like I said, once he learns something about you, he mentally plans out events.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?): Not really a terrible habit, but he’ll talk to himself a lot! Another bad habit I heard is drinking tea, so that’s obviously one. He’ll click his pen if he’s stressed and crack his knuckles as well.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?): He cares about his appearance! That’s obvious. He won’t go all-out for you, but hygiene is a big thing for him!The most formal he WANTS to get is slicking his hair back, but since he’s ‘Humanity's Strongest Soldier’ he’s often requested at formal events. Also one of the reasons he shaves his face. Yup, he’d like to grow a little stubble, but it’s annoying to maintain!

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?): Levi has to spend a good amount of time away from you, since being in the corps keeps you busy! But like I said earlier, you’re his medicine, so without you he gets ‘sick’. By that I mean, he starts to feel lonely and gets lost in his thoughts. He’s obviously got PTSD, probably depression as well, so he needs you around! Short answer is yes, he feels incomplete without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.): He’s like your own personal puppy dog! If you ask something from him, he’ll do it if he’s got time! He stays awake until you get home where he’s instantly at the door, and he’s often trailing behind you to make sure you’re safe. If he WERE a dog, his tail would be wagging happily. It’s wholesome tbh!

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?): In general, he’s very picky with the food he eats. Sometimes he refuses to eat what’s in the mess hall because he thinks it’s gross. In a partner, he would prefer his polar opposite. So I don’t think he’d be into someone who's blunt, snarky, and monotone. He would prefer to have his own little ray of sunshine! He also wouldn’t like if his partner liked to keep everything in about themselves. More gross things in his mind would be if his S/O picked their nose or chewed their nails.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?): Levi doesn’t sleep much, but every morning, you’ll find a small spot on your shirt or the pillow. He drools in his sleep! You didn’t expect that from such a clean man! And earlier I also mentioned he’s a sleep snuggler!

#levi ackerman #levi headcanons #levi #snk levi #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #headcanon #sfw

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flowerfan2 · 4 years

Text

Private Time - Ch. 4

Klaine, 9k, A03, M

Yup, here’s another chapter...

Chapter 4: "... now you’re always taking up the washer with your nasty sheets, the hallway by Kurt’s room smells awful, and every single package from Amazon is just more lube!”

*****

It’s a Wednesday afternoon (or maybe Tuesday? Blaine isn’t sure, the days are blending together so much he can hardly tell, they’re months into quarantine by now) and he is sitting around the coffee table with Sam and Kurt playing What Do You Meme. It’s a dumb game even in the best of times, especially without the benefit of alcoholic beverages, but Sam just got the Game of Thrones expansion pack and he begged them to play. It’s not like they have better things to do.

Just as Kurt is complaining again about what to play for a Tyrion card (“he only has one expression, there’s no opportunity for creativity here”) Rachel comes down the stairs and plants herself in front of them, hands on her hips.

“I think we need to reconsider private time,” she announces, chin in the air.

Blaine’s brain (and a less rational part of his body) immediately sounds an alarm. This is serious. Since he and Kurt have gotten together, private time nights have been, without question, his favorite nights of the week, possibly of his life. There’s no way he can let Rachel do away with private time. He concentrates on keeping his face schooled to his most earnest choir boy expression. “Why, Rachel? What’s wrong?”

Rachel harrumphs and glares at him. Guess the innocent look didn’t work this time. “You know what’s wrong. All of you do.”

Sam, bless his heart, really doesn’t. “Do you need more time to practice? We could add another night. Friday, maybe?”

Rachel turns her glare to Sam. “No, we don’t need more private time.” She drops down onto the less ratty of the two armchairs with a dramatic flounce. “I didn’t think it would be so bad, living with three guys, since two of you are, you know, generally pretty well groomed and understand the critical importance of personal hygiene. And until lately you all seemed fairly well behaved about... stuff. But now you’re always taking up the washer with your nasty sheets, the hallway by Kurt’s room smells awful, and every single package from Amazon is just more lube!” Rachel’s voice cracks at this last bit, and she buries her head in her hands.

“That’s not true, Rachel, our last Amazon box had this new card game expansion pack-”

Rachel whips her head up and Sam falls silent. “Right, of course, how could I forget – and you were so excited you couldn’t even save it for game night.”

Blaine frowns. “We can save it for game night, Rach. When’s the next one?”

Rachel stands up and points her finger at Blaine, her freshly polished nails catching the light (the color is actually called “Teal the Cows Come Home,” although when Rachel did his toes with it earlier he pointed out that it’s a little too blue to properly be called teal). “Exactly!”

They all stay quiet as Rachel storms back up the stairs.

“I don’t even know when the next game night is,” Sam says, dragging his fingers through his blond hair. It’s gotten a bit long these past few months. Maybe Blaine will offer to trim it for him.

“I think that was her point, Sam.” Kurt rises from the lumpy couch and goes into the kitchen. Blaine and Sam trail after him, and they crowd together to look at the big calendar taped to the refrigerator. It is mostly filled with doodles and alcohol wish lists (“margaritas? Need limes/lemons/Sprite?”). Blaine has to look back two weeks to find a game night.

“Rachel’s feeling left out.” Blaine shifts his gaze to the other two, who quickly slam “not it” fingers on their noses. Blaine sighs. “I’ll go talk to her.”

*****

Blaine pauses outside Rachel’s door. There’s a shiny gold star with “Diva Sleeping” hanging from the doorknob, and it swings back and forth when he knocks.

“Who is it?”

Blaine stifles a laugh. There really aren’t that many possibilities.

“It’s Blaine. Do you want to go for a walk? It’s really nice outside. Sunny and almost seventy.”

“You always go running with Sam.”

This is true, although Blaine still wishes he could just go by himself sometimes. Alas, that is not to be, not if he wants to maintain roommate harmony in these crazy times. “Yeah, I know, but we could just go for a walk. Head over to campus, see what things look like these days.”

There’s a pause, and then a quiet “okay.”

Blaine turns to go back downstairs when Rachel sticks her head out of her door. “Blaine - what should I wear?”

“To go for a walk?”

Rachel narrows her eyes at him. “Yes, that’s what I said. Is this an exercise walk, or a…” she trails off, her eyebrows drawing together as she searches for the word.

“A stroll?” Blaine suggests. It sounds suitably Rachel-appropriate that it might cheer her up.

Rachel allows a little smile to tug at her mouth. “Yes. A stroll.”

“Which do you want it to be?”

Rachel looks back into her room, and Blaine knows she is considering her outfit choices. It’s fine, he gets this from Kurt all the time.

“I have a new dress I was going to wear for the music department’s spring awards ceremony…” She looks up at Blaine. “I hate that everything is cancelled.” The ongoing disappointment at everything they look forward to disappearing is hard to escape. Blaine knows how she feels.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Rachel nods, and then straightens her shoulders. “A stroll, then.” She gives Blaine a look that clearly indicates what she thinks of his sweatpants and old Dalton shirt. “You have to change too.”

“Obviously,” Blaine replies, smiling.

When they meet up downstairs a little while later, Blaine is quick to admire Rachel’s pretty pink dress and matching white tote bag adorned with pink and yellow daisies. Rachel beams, and praises Blaine as well (he’s got on a blue shawl neck sweater that he knows Kurt will enjoy petting later, over a pink button up and slim dove gray pants).

“Have a nice time,” Kurt says as they leave, giving Blaine an appreciate wink.

As soon as they get outside, Rachel does a little twirl on the sidewalk. She takes Blaine’s arm as they start off down the street. Blaine takes in a big breath of fresh air, and they exchange a pleased look. This was definitely a good idea.

There are quite a few blocks of residential neighborhood before they get to campus. As they get closer, the rickety multi-family buildings and student apartments give way to more respectable looking houses, interspersed with smaller university buildings. The atmosphere seems strange, though, as it always does these days. It’s definitely not normal without the expected traffic from cars and bicycles – there’s far less of that since everyone is working from home. Most classes are over by this point anyway, but it still seems odd without clusters of students hanging out and walking purposefully here and there.

At least the weather is starting to get better. New England doesn’t so much have spring as an extended winter followed by surprising sunshine in June.

They make their way through the law school campus, commenting on how the grass miraculously always looks green in the quad. The university is apparently still spending plenty of money on grounds keeping. At least it means some people still have jobs. Rachel lets out a melancholy sigh as they go past the music buildings. “It seems like forever since I practiced with a real piano.”

“I know,” Blaine says, squeezing her arm in sympathy. Then he gets an idea, and wonders why he hasn’t thought of it before. “I can play the piano, you know. I could accompany you on my keyboard, if you wanted. It might be fun, even if we’re just messing around.”

Rachel turns and gives him an appraising look. “Are you any good? Because I don’t want to waste my time if you’re not.”

Blaine isn’t even offended, it’s such a Rachel thing to say. “I am, I promise. But we can try it out and you can judge for yourself. No worries either way.”

Rachel nods. “Okay. Maybe when we get home.”

They pass the big science center and walk through the plaza, stopping for a minute to watch the fountain which sprays water over a bunch of big rocks. Usually this time of year there are tourists congregating here, but today it’s quiet, like everywhere else.

Blaine gets a whiff of what smells like curry, and he looks around to see that the tandoor food truck is pulled up in its usual space. “Looks like they’re doing call-ahead orders,” Blaine says.

“I would die for some biryani,” Rachel replies wistfully. “And veggie korma. They do such a good job with their vegetarian options. Do you think we could get take-out on our way back?”

“Sure. But we have to let Kurt disinfect the containers before we open anything.”

“Of course,” Rachel says, agreeing easily. They had some heated debates about take-out in the early days of the pandemic, with Blaine arguing that unless they put the food directly into their eyes there was no way for the virus to be transmitted, and Rachel going through a period of intense anxiety about anything that couldn’t itself be quarantined for three days, but after a few weeks their desire for pizza and hot wings won out. Kurt insisted, however, that he be the one to make sure that everything that came into the house was carefully cleaned before they touched it, and that everyone washed their hands before any actual eating commenced. No one objected. It’s been hard to find a balance between feeling safe and living their lives, but they’re doing their best.

Blaine and Rachel pass through a tall ornate metal gate and into the yard. There are a fair number of people here, spread out on the grass enjoying the mild weather. Blaine glances quickly at Rachel. “Do you want to sit for a while?”

She looks around. “It’s more crowded than I imagined it would be.”

“Amazing how quickly we’ve adjusted to the idea that people are dangerous,” Blaine says. He knows how she’s feeling. Even with masks on, and at an appropriately socially distancing six feet away, it doesn’t feel right to be close to other people. “Let’s find somewhere quieter.”

They weave between the stately brick buildings and find a smaller courtyard with a little less foot traffic. “Perfect,” says Rachel, taking a rolled up sheet out of her bag and spreading it on the grass. They sit down, and Rachel pulls out two bottles of flavored seltzer and a tupperware container with a bunch of grapes and some wheat thins.

“It’s the not most elegant picnic, but I thought it was better than nothing.”

“It’s lovely, Rachel, thank you.”

“I’m sure Kurt would be appalled at the lack of cloth napkins.”

Blaine chuckles. “I wouldn’t know. We haven’t been on a picnic.”

Rachel’s eyes widen. “You haven’t? That’s one of Kurt’s favorite date ideas.”

Blaine frowns. “We haven’t exactly gone on many dates.” <i>Any</i> dates, he thinks to himself. He and Kurt got together in such a weird way, trapped in quarantine for weeks while they crushed on each other until they couldn’t resist any longer. Their date opportunities are severely limited - they can’t go out to restaurants, or coffee shops, or see a movie or a show. While they have the perfect excuse to spend time together, it might be nice to do something special for a change. “I guess I really don’t know what kind of date he’d like.”

“Oh.” Rachel pulls out a grape and pops it into her mouth. “Well, then, you’ve got some thinking to do, haven’t you?”

“What, you don’t think eating every meal in front of the television while Sam tells us how many crunches he did is sexy?”

Rachel grins. “It depends. What is Sam wearing in this scenario?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Blaine pulls a grape off the stem and rolls it around in his fingers. “Maybe you could give me some ideas of things you think Kurt would like? You know him a lot better than I do.”

Rachel gives him a fond smile. “I’d be happy to.” She finishes chewing the cracker in her mouth and lies down on the blanket, closing her eyes. “I miss sex,” she says, and Blaine nearly chokes on his seltzer.

“What?”

“You heard me. Not all of us were gifted with a quarantine-approved boyfriend. I miss sex. The fun, the excitement. The awkward noises. The orgasms.”

Blaine squirms a little but he knows it must have taken Rachel quite a lot to reveal this. Taking a breath, he lies down next to her. She clearly needs to talk, and it might be easier for them both if they aren’t looking at each other.

“Were you, um, dating anyone, before the shut-down?”

Rachel sighs. “Not for a while. I haven’t had a long-term relationship in years, but there were a few promising possibilities.”

“It’s kind of tough to date now,” Blaine says.

“Right?” Rachel sighs. “Some of my friends are still hooking up, you know.”

This strikes Blaine as insane. You can’t hook up from six feet away. “Really?”

“Really. I even thought about it… there’s an old flame I see every once in a while, Jesse. I think he’d be up for it-” Rachel cuts herself off and giggles at her phrasing.

“He’d be crazy not to want to be with you, Rachel, but I don’t think now is a good time. Even if he says he’s healthy, he could be asymptomatic. And then you could get sick, and…” And all of us would catch it, too, Blaine thinks.

“I know, I know. I’m not going to do it.” Rachel shifts and turns on her side, and Blaine turns to face her. “Can I ask you something?”

Suddenly they’re a little too close for comfort, and Blaine tenses. Rachel isn’t going to ask to kiss him, is she? It wouldn’t be the first time a girl thought he’d be open to it, even though Blaine has always been clear that he wasn’t interested in girls that way. But Rachel knows he’s with Kurt, she’d never… well, only one way to find out. At least she’s asking first and not just groping him while he’s drugged up on cold medicine. “Sure, you can ask me anything.”

Rachel bites her lip, then apparently decides to go for it. “Do you think Sam would be interested in me?”

Blaine almost laughs at his own obliviousness. Of course Rachel’s not interested in him, she definitely seems more into the jock type anyway. “Sam? I don’t know, maybe.”

“Come on, you guys are close. You must have some idea. What does he think of me?”

Blaine tries to think of the best way to answer this. “I know he thinks you’re very attractive,” he begins. None of them have missed how Sam practically drools over Rachel when she does yoga with Kurt. Frankly they all leer at each other during yoga. It’s a group leer-fest, everyone’s invited.

“Well, of course,” Rachel says, smiling to show that she’s joking – partially joking, anyway. “But do you think he’d be interested in, you know…?”

Blaine is quite certain that Sam would jump at the chance to get hot and sweaty with Rachel, but he’s not sure what would happen after that. It might make the rest of their quarantine very awkward if things didn’t go well.

“Do you think I intimidate him?” Rachel goes on, pressing the subject. “I do that to people. I know I’m bossy, it’s one of my best traits. I like to tell people what to do. A lot of guys like it.”

Blaine absolutely does not blush, thinking about how he and Kurt have been engaging in some rather arousing professor-student role play. Nope, not thinking about that at all.

“And it doesn’t have to be a big thing-” Rachel snorts. “Although, you know, if it was, that would be fine-” Another snort-giggle.

Blaine puts his hand over his face. He can’t bring himself to respond.

“I mean it doesn’t need to be too serious,” Rachel goes on. “We can just have a wank together, help each other out. Enjoy some <i>private time</i> but, you know, with mutual orgasms. I know how much Sam enjoys his time alone… he’s very… vocal about it… I bet he wouldn’t mind some company…” Rachel’s voice has acquired a sultry tone Blaine has never heard before. “Blaine… am I making you uncomfortable?” She’s clearly having way too much fun with this, and Blaine can’t decide if he is more amused or embarrassed. In either case, it’s time to change the subject.

“We should probably get back.” Blaine sits up and puts the lid on the tupperware, pressing it down to seal the edges. Rachel leans up on an elbow and smirks at him. “Too much information?”

Blaine shakes his head despairingly. “We’ve been in quarantine together for two months, and there’s no end in sight. I think ‘private’ has kind of lost its meaning.”

Rachel stands up and smooths her hands down her dress as Blaine rolls up the blanket. “Well, it’s decided. I’m going to take a long shower, slather myself in body lotion, put on my favorite lace underthings, and proposition Sam. Tonight.”

“But private time isn’t scheduled until tomorrow.”

Rachel looks at Blaine as if he’s gone off his rocker. “I’m not going to spend my private time hooking up with a boy, Blaine. I need all the time I can get for vocal practice. I’m serious about my instrument, and I’m not going to allow this pandemic to get in the way of my future stardom.” Rachel huffs and walks away.

Stunned, Blaine quickly grabs their belongings and follows Rachel, chastising himself. He’s become so used to having relations with Kurt during private time that he forgot private time wasn’t supposed to be for sex. He’s just about to apologize to Rachel when she turns and grins at him, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “Gotcha!”

#klaine #klaine fic #glee fic #blaine anderson #rachel berry #private time

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bazzybelle · 5 years

Text

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat! AKA Bat-Baz II: Electric Bazaloo

Note: I feel I should explain for those new to the beauty and wonder that is Bat-Baz. It started with THIS piece of art by the talented @parijpg (give them 100000% credit for starting the whole Bat-Baz craze). I was so inspired to write that THIS happened (Original Bat-Baz Fic).

If you scroll through the reblogs of that fic, you’ll find some QUALITY ART by the lovely @subpar-selkie !

I was going to end it there, but THIS (adorable BAT) and THIS (more quality content from @subpar-selkie ) were posted this week… So, I caved and wrote ANOTHER BAT-BAZ fic!

It’s the (not very highly) anticipated sequel to Love is Blind (As A Bat). Definitely not as good as The Godfather: Part II, but hopefully better than the straight-to-VHS/DVD/Blu-Ray Disney sequels.

Thank you to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for the beta-reading, @giishu , and @f-ing-ruthless-baz for yelling at encouraging me to post this story, and @fight-surrender for bothering me this week and cheering me up and making sure I don’t feel too alone this week.

Enjoy… and I’m so sorry.

PS: Also, posting this on AO3. If you want, you can read it HERE.

__________

SIMON

“How many times do I have to tell you!? Rowling’s spells are dodgy at best!”

Baz is yelling on the phone to his half-sister Mordelia. He looks absolutely exhausted, and I can’t say I blame him for taking it out on his little sister. He just spent the better part of the evening as a small black bat, and must be beyond mortified. Anyone who knows Baz Pitch, knows that he usually deals with his embarrassment with snark and (on occasion) misdirected anger. In this case, the anger is very well-directed. It seems Mordelia was responsible for turning him into a bat in the first place.

“I don’t care what spell you were trying to accomplish! Her spells are as problematic and preposterous as she is! She’s barely a magician herself, if we’re being honest.”

I feel like I need to calm Baz down as he’s quickly heading towards one of his famous tirades. I start to run my fingers through his hair and plant a small kiss on his shoulder. Baz’s grey eyes meet my eyes and he sighs heavily. He grabs onto my hand and gives it a small squeeze.

“I know it wasn’t done on purpose, Mordelia, but you need to be careful! You’re starting Watford in the autumn and I highly doubt your classmates will appreciate you turning them into winged mammals.”

I choke back a snort as I think about the hijinks Baz’s sister will get into once she begins her Watford education. Images of a frozen moat in January, and enchanted snowball fights (you can enchant them so they follow the intended target like a tracker – Baz had gotten me a few times that way) fill my mind. I start to lightly scratch Baz’s back and I feel his muscles beginning to relax. I just hope he ends his call soon, so I can have my boyfriend back to his calm, arrogant self.

“I shall be coming back tomorrow to collect my… belongings. If you so much as breathe on my clothes or my mobile, I will not hesitate to turn you into a tarantula!”

Baz finally hangs up and tosses my mobile back to me. He starts rubbing his eyes and groans heavily. I continue to rub his shoulders and start to nuzzle his arm. He turns to me and offers small, tired smile.

“I apologize for that, Simon. But I’d like to think you’d be the same way if you’d just spent the better part of your evening flying from Hampshire to London. I can barely feel my arms.”

“Would you like me to rub your shoulders for you, then?” I ask him. Baz raises an eyebrow and smiles coyly at me.

I place myself behind him and start to knead my fingers into the space where his neck meets his shoulders. My thumbs press deep circles into his shoulder blades. I am careful to not touch his hair, nor the base of his neck (he flinches when I get too close to where he was bitten – it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be when I first massaged him, but I’d rather not risk it).

I hear a soft sigh coming from Baz. I want to continue, but I’m noticing his head lolling forward. I stop my back rubbing and sit back down next to him. I take note of his eyelids beginning to droop. I move some hair from his face and he smiles dreamily at me.

“Did you need to feed before going to bed?” I ask him. Baz shakes his head slowly.

“I fed right before all this started.” Baz gestures towards his body. I lift myself from the bed and gather some pyjamas for him. I toss them to the bed and grab a pair for myself.

“Here. I’ll warm you up some blood, just to be safe, while you change.” Baz rolls his eyes at me, but I’m already out the door before he can protest any further.

I walk into the kitchen to see that the spell books and materials have already been cleared out. I’ll have to thank Penny properly tomorrow, for her help tonight. I suppose a breakfast of her favourite pancakes (banana-blueberry) is enough to show my gratitude. I heat up some blood we keep on hand in the fridge (several butcher’s shops carry a steady supply). I also take some time to make a few sandwiches for him (and for myself… I get hungry when I worry). Before going back into the bedroom, I quickly change into my pyjamas and wash up (Baz must be beyond exhausted if he didn’t even think to freshen up in the bathroom, which means he’ll be cranky tomorrow).

When I get back into the bedroom, Baz is already settled into the bed, eyes closed, and sheets pulled up to his chin. I can feel my heart softening for him, he’s had an impossibly long day. I kneel down beside him and run my hand through his hair. His eyes open slowly. I place the sandwiches on the night stand and hand him a mug with some blood inside.

“I’m fine, Snow” He slurs, but accepts the mug regardless. He downs it in a matter of seconds (Prat… Was probably more thirsty than he let on), and places the mug on the nightstand, next to the plate (he doesn’t touch the sandwiches, which is fine, he’ll eat when he wants to). I climb into the bed and wrap my arms around his waist. Baz settles in as well. I hold him for a little while as I feel him beginning to doze off.

I plant a few small kisses on his shoulder as I start to fall asleep as well.

BAZ

A rumbling in the pit of my stomach startles me awake. I clutch at my abdomen as I attempt to recall when I had last eaten. I rub my eyes,wondering what time it is. I glance at the window and see the dark skies of the night. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep for, as I glance at Simon still sleeping peacefully beside me. His lips are opened slightly (mouth-breather) and he has his arms pulled tight against his chest. I move to give him a small kiss, when my stomach rumbles again.

Right… should probably take care of that first. I look to the night stand and remember the sandwiches that Simon made. I stare at him as I eat slowly (I’ve been practicing controlling my fangs… the only good thing to come out of America), feeling so grateful for the beautiful disaster in my life. I would never ask him to do what he did for me tonight, but Simon does it anyway, just as I would for him. I finish off a couple of sandwiches from the plate, and bring the dishes back to the kitchen. I brush my teeth in the bathroom (exhausted as I am, I still maintain proper hygiene) before heading back into bed with Simon.

I face him and watch him for a moment as he sleeps soundly, chest slowly rising and falling. I reach over and run my fingers through his hair. I plant a small kiss on his lips (I never want to relive the experience of my boyfriend kissing me in bat-form ever again).

An all too familiar feeling begins to arise as soon as my lips leave Simon’s. The splitting headache, the light-headed feeling, and most importantly, the blinding pain shooting up my back. I leap out of bed and I shout to alert Simon, but all that comes out of my mouth is a small, garbled chirp.

Seven snakes! Not again!

I rush to wake him up, but my head suddenly feels so heavy… and I cannot keep my eyes open for much longer… And my stomach begins to lurch.

I feel myself crumple onto the bedroom floor…

At least Simon will know it’s me this time. I think as I hit the floor and become shrouded in darkness…

SIMON

I don’t feel Baz in bed with me as I wake up. I rub my hand on his side of the bed and feel it empty. My eyebrows furrow as I slowly lift myself up from bed. It’s strange for Baz to be awake before I am.

“Baz?” I call out groggily. I look over to his side of the bed once more and notice his pyjamas in a pile on the floor.

“Fuck!” I yell out as I jump out of bed. If there was something I could be sure of, it’s that my boyfriend would NEVER leave his clothing in a messy pile on the side of the bed. Something must have happened to him… again!

Panic rises in my throat as I search through the clothing. I’m hoping with everything in me that I don’t find ash or anything else that could indicate my deepest fears.

Everything seems to be normal, but I notice tiny claw marks within the fabric of the pyjamas. My eyes widen as I piece the clues together.

Bloody fucking hell! Not again!

My eyes dart around the bedroom for any sign of Baz hiding. I begin to search through the darker corners of the bedroom, each spot turning up empty. With every empty spot, I start to panic a little more. Did he get out? Did he get stuck somewhere? Merlin, are there any stray cats that could have gotten inside?

“Baz!? Stop being such a wanker! Where did you get to?!” I call out. When I don’t hear an answer, I stomp through the bedroom door and into the kitchen, where I see Penny, sitting calmly, drinking some tea and eating cereal.

“Good morning Simon.” She tries to say to me, but I ignore her as I start to desperately search the flat for any sign of Baz, or any place he could be sleeping (is he a nocturnal bat? Does it matter? Is his curse following the rules of his anatomy or that of a bat?).

Penny tries calling out to me again, but I’m currently flipping over throw pillows and searching under the sofa.

“Simon… What on Earth…”

“Baz is missing again! Except he’s also a bat again! And I can’t find him!”

I start to move the bookcase, rattling the books and objects placed carefully inside. The organization was Penny and Baz’s doing. They argued for weeks on how to organize the books (Penny wanted alphabetically; Baz by the Dewey Decimal system – which I’d have never even known about, but I’m in love with an impossibly intellectual tosser), but settled on a system that worked for both of them. I’m now mucking up that system, by moving and shifting things around. I’m wondering if Baz found his way behind on the of the books. Maybe his wing got caught somewhere.

“Simon… you should maybe…” She joins me by the bookshelf, but I avoid her and head into the kitchen. I’m thinking that maybe Baz got into one of the cupboards (were they opened last night?)

“Not now Penny!” I open every cupboard in the kitchen and look inside. Nothing. No Baz. I begin to tug the curls in my head, as I think about other places he could have gotten into.

Penny has joined me by the cupboards. I feel her grabbing my wrists. “Simon!” she shouts at me, finally forcing me to look up at her. She points to her head. Plopped calmly and looking at me like I’m impossibly thick, is Baz. Once again, he’s a bat.

“Bloody hell, Baz! You can’t scare me like that!” I reach out my hands, and he hops into them. Bat-Baz nuzzles his face between the space between my thumb and index finger. I bring him up and plant a kiss on top of his head. Penny scratches him behind his wings.

“I found him perched upside down on the lamp, fast asleep. Nearly gave me a heart attack. He woke up not too long ago and found his way to me. What happened? I know you were joking about trying new things with him… But… did you ask him to change back, Simon?!”

I stare at her, mouth open wide and eyes boring into her. Does she actually think I would put Baz through another round of transformations all for a little excitement? I look at Bat-Baz, and he’s giving her the exact same look.

“For Crowley’s sake, Penny! No! I woke up and he was gone! He must have changed again during the night!” My comments are backed up by Bat-Baz’s frantic chirping and wing-flapping. I try to sush him and start rubbing the back of his wings. It worked to calm him down yesterday, and it seems to do the trick today. Bat-Baz starts licking my hand, and while I think that’s adorable and sweet, I don’t want to think about my bat-boyfriend in this way… lest it start affecting our intimate moments.

Penny starts scratching her head and frowns down at Bat-Baz. “I’m wondering if the spell last night worked at all? Is this a side-effect of that spell? Did it mix badly with the spell that made him a bat in the first place?”

“What do you suggest we do?"

Penny stifles a small laugh, "Maybe try and figure out what bats eat? It seems we’ll be stuck here for a while.” Her comment is met with angry chirps from Bat-Baz. If I wasn’t holding onto him as tight as I was, I’m fairly sure he would be attempting to jump at Penny.

“Oh! I didn’t mean it Basil!” Penny tries to pet him, but he hisses at her. I turn my back towards her and lift Bat-Baz to my face. He is not amused at this situation, but I still frown at him.

“Baz… I know you’re pissed off, but try and calm down, yeah”. I turn to Penny, who’s stuck her tongue out at him. I shake my head at her.

“And you! Now is not the time to take the piss out of anything.” Penny looks away, ashamed and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Since when am I the responsible one out of this group? I place Bat-Baz on my shoulder and head to the kitchen. I need to make myself some breakfast before trying to tackle this mystery.

I look at Bat-Baz, who’s started nuzzling my face, and just wanting to stay as close to me as possible. Baz hates feeling vulnerable in any way, and being changed into a tiny animal, without his strength and his magic… yeah, pretty fucking vulnerable, if you ask me. I pick him up again and look into his eyes (fuck… they’re still grey…). I feel my heart break a little as I stare at them, because they look devastated.

“Hey… don’t be like that. We’re going to figure this out.” I speak in a small soft voice to him, but Bat-Baz looks away from me. I run my thumb over his little head a few times and his eyes close. A tiny, sad chirp escapes him as he leans into my touch. He starts licking me again. I bring him closer to my face.

“I promise, Baz. If anything, this proves even further that we match… y’know… ‘cause of the wings.” I give my wings a small flap as Bat-Baz rolls his eyes.

“I know you’re laughing on the inside, Baz. Come on. I’ll try to find you something to eat.” I give him a small peck on his bat lips and leave him to perch on the edge of my wing. I start to look through the refrigerator for any fruit or blood (seriously… what do bats eat? What kind of bat is he? I mean… vampire bat makes sense, but is that a little too on the nose?).

I don’t notice the bright purple glow surrounding Baz’s small form. I feel him swooping down from my wing and see him flying desperately towards the bedroom. I slam the refrigerator door shut and run after him. Penny tries to follow, but I shut the door before she gets too close. She begins to knock on the door.

“Simon! What’s going on! Is he changing back?”

“Yes Penny! He’s changing back!” I breathe a sigh of relief as Baz turns back into himself (again, completely starkers… probably the only side effect of the spell I can’t be mad about). I rush to him and wrap my arms around him. He leans his head on my shoulder and breathes heavily into me. I run my fingers through his hair and start rubbing his back. He lifts his head and his eyes meet mine.

“At least we know how to change me back.” He says. I start to laugh.

“Fat lot that’ll do, until we know what causes the transformation to happen. D’you remember what happened before you changed?” Baz leans down and presses his hands together. He starts shaking his head. Another series of knocks pounds through the room. Penny’s voice rings out, loudly.

“Is he back to his grumpy self, then?!”

Baz glares at the door. I sigh as I get up and fetch some clothes for him to wear. If we’re going to have a discussion about breaking his spell (or I suppose it’s more of a curse at this point), Penny should be a part of it.

“I’d like to see you maintain a cheery demeanor when spending most of your time as a tiny winged mammal, Bunce!” Baz barks, while slipping on one of his shirts. Now that he’s decent, I should go open the door. Before I do, I walk up to him and cup his face in my hands. I make sure he’s looking at me

“We’re going to figure this out. Trust us, okay?” Baz smiles at me and nods.

“Okay.”

I give him a small smile and softly kiss him once more. Baz reaches up and starts to caress my shoulders. I press further into him, when a pained moan escapes his lips. I quickly back, worried that I hurt him. Baz’s eyes are opened wide, and panicked. I grab his wrists and try to get him to look at me, but it won’t work.

“Baz? What’s happening?” I try to ask him.

“Simon! It-” His speech is cut short by a series of loud, hysterical chirping. He finally looks at me for a few moments, before collapsing onto the bed. I manage to catch him and lie him down, but I can already see the transformation happening. To my horror, he starts glowing and shrinking into his clothes.

“Fuck! Shit! Baz… Why’s this happening?”

Merlin, Morgana, and Methuselah! How many times has it been now? I notice a small lump moving around inside the sweater. I look inside to see a furious Bat-Baz. I cup him in my hands and walk sadly towards the door. I open the door to a Penny with her hands on her hips. She frowns at the bat-boyfriend in my hands.

“Wasn’t he just changed?”

“He was! That didn’t last very long.” I set Bat-Baz back on my wing. He calmly perches upside-down and wraps his tiny body in his wings. I think he wants to be left alone for now. I don’t blame him.

“Well, what happened now, Simon!?”

“I don’t know Penny! All I did was tell him that we’d fix things and then he changed again!” I stomp out of the bedroom and head back to the kitchen. I whip open the refrigerator and pull out some eggs and fruit. I decide to make myself some breakfast and cut up some fruit for Baz. Maybe some food will calm us both down.

Penny follows me into the kitchen and leans on the wall as I cook the eggs. “Is that all you did, Simon?” she asks me. I slam the spatula in my hand down on the counter and turn to her, hands raised above my head.

“Oh of course! I forgot to mention the secret demonic ritual I had Baz perform so that he can stay a bat at my whim!” I notice that my wings start flapping. I take a deep breath and calm myself down. The last thing I want to do is send Bat-Baz accidently hurtling across the room because I’m throwing a tantrum.

Penny places a calm hand on my shoulder. “No! But did you do anything else?”

I sigh and run my hands through my hair, trying to think of anything that could have done this to him. The only thing I can think of is the kiss I gave him. But that can’t be it. It was what changed him back to his normal vampire-self. I shrug at Penny. “I don’t know… I kissed him. But I alway-”

“AHA!” Penny shouts in my ear. Her sudden exclamation causes me to jump back and violently flap my wings, which in turn sends Bat-Baz flinging off. Thankfully, he catches himself before hitting anything and flies up. He dives towards Penny, who ducks for cover. Bat-Baz starts screeching at her, before I step in between them. He lands on my head and buries himself in my curls. I turn back to Penny, who’s wearing a small apologetic look on her face.

“Well? What is it, Penny?” Penny stands up and straightens her plaid skirt.

“The kisses Simon. We know that kisses turn him back into a human. Well what if they work both ways?” Penny grabs an apple and begins to slice it. She places a thin slice in her hand and holds it up towards my head, a small peace offering, I suppose. Bat-Baz perkes up and sniffs the apple slice in Penny’s hand. He slowly hops into her palm and starts to eat the apple slice.

Merlin… My heart melts to watch them. I snap out of it and continue my discussion.

“Both ways?”

Penny starts to scratch Bat-Baz behind the wings. He continues to eat his apple slice. “Yes. Like how we spell your wings off until a bell rings?” I nod at her, pressing her to go on. “Well maybe this is similar. Since we connected it to a Bat-Man spell.”

“What does Bat-Man have to do with this?” I finally finish cooking my eggs and place them on a plate. Penny has placed Baz on the counter and continues to slice small apple slices for him. He starts to eat them slowly. I start shoveling the eggs in my mouth. Bat-Baz looks up at me, and I didn’t think a bat could look so disgusted… but there you go. Penny’s got the same look on her face, so maybe it’s just me.

Penny heads towards the refrigerator. She opens it and starts to look for something inside. “Think about it Simon. Bat-Man is all about living your life within a duality. Maybe the spell was not literal enough. Instead of changing a bat into a man. It allowed for a more controlled dual life. Controlled by your kisses, it seems” She pulls out one of the containers of blood, we keep on hand for Baz. She hands it to me and motions towards the stove. I eat some more of my eggs and get started on heating some of the blood. I don’t suppose we need very much of it right now.

Penny grabs a small saucer from the cupboard. I spoon a tiny amount of blood into the saucer and set it in front of Bat-Baz. He gives it a look and looks up at Penny and me, with drooping ears. I sigh at him.

“Honestly, Baz. It isn’t a big deal if we see you feed. You should feed so that you feel better.” He doesn’t make a move toward the blood, instead focusing on the apple slices. I grumble to myself and grab Penny by the arm, leading her away from Bat-Baz.

“So… What, I can’t ever kiss Baz again? What sort of rubbish is that?” I hear angry chirping, signifying Baz’s agreement that our situation is in fact rubbish.

Penny lifts her glasses from her head. She grabs a small piece of cloth from her skirt pocket and begins to clean them. “Don’t be dramatic, Simon. There is a solution to this. We just have to go to the source of the spell.” I groan, because that means we have to call Mordelia and ask her what spell she used and I do not feel like talking to her. I look over towards the kitchen counter.

“Baz? You done in there?” A series of small chirps tells me that he’s done feeding. I go back to the kitchen. I clean up the saucer and plates, while Baz finishes up the apple slice he’s been eating. I pick him up and he starts licking my hand again (I’ve gotten used to it by now… seeing as we won’t be allowed to kiss until this spell is broken, we’ll have to find more creative ways of showing affection towards each other). Penny looks over at us and makes a face.

“Nicks and Slick, Basil! Maybe I need to spell a small pouch to put you in so that you allow Simon the use of his hands!”. Bat-Baz looks up at her and glares. I bring him up and kiss the top of his head.

“She isn’t serious… Right Penny?” She shrugs and walks away. I frown at her and look down at Bat-Baz who… actually has a sneer on his face. I head towards the bedroom.

“Come on… Let’s turn you back into my Baz.”

BAZ

Simon is leaning against my arm, reading a graphic novel adaptation of Interview with a Vampire (I bought it for him recently, after he would not stop asking me about Anne Rice).It’s taking everything in my willpower to not kiss him right now. All I have to do is think about how uncomfortable it is to move about as a bat and my desires to kiss him disappear (almost disappear… or rather… momentarily disappear. I am a constant disappointment to myself, after all). I have chosen to browse through The Vampire Lestat. It is the homework that Bunce has given to us. She has settled herself on the kitchen table, reading the atrocious Twilight books, while furiously writing down notes. I look down at my own neatly written notes, and the few sentences that Simon’s managed to scribble down (with my gentle coaxing).

We had been going at this all day. After our unconventional breakfast, Simon took me into the bedroom and privately changed me back into my nearly human form. We then (well, mostly me, Simon was pacing about the flat the entire time, while Bunce took extensive notes) called my irksome little sister to ask her what spell she was trying to cast.

Apparently she thought it absolutely brilliant to try and cast Expecto Patronum. According to Mordelia, she was hoping to know what her patronus was, and I just happened to show up at the wrong time. She insisted that “it would have worked had you not shown up, Basil!”. After berating her for nearly an hour on how impossible the very notion of a patronus was (the closest thing could be a familiar, but even that is rare), I once again threatened to turn her into an abhorrent arachnid before hanging up the phone.

We came to the conclusion that I was turned into a bat because, well, if patronuses did exist, it was very possible that mine would be a bat (at least that was the explanation Bunce offered, I personally think it’s bollocks).

Which brings us to our homework session. Bunce believes that in order to turn me back into my full-self, we needed to create a spell that brings forth my true nature (hence the diverse selection of vampire-related literature).

For now, I am scanning the pages of my book, while Simon lazily lies against my shoulder. I look over at him, to see him smiling up at me. I smirk back at him. Simon reaches over and gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. I lean towards him and touch my nose to his. He begins to caress my face and I lean into his soft touch.

I realize too late that his lips have made their way to mine.

I pull back in fear. Simon is wearing a look of shock… which soon changes into one of instant regret.

“Fuck! Bollocks! I forgot!” He yells, which gets Bunce’s attention. She runs towards the sofa, but I can already feel the transformation taking over. I give Simon an angry sneer.

“I swear to Crowley, Snow. I-” my hand clamps over my mouth as a loud chirp escapes it. My head once again feels dizzy and I feel sweat beads on my brow. I lean over and put my head down to steady the all-too-familiar sensation of sickness and lightheadedness. I can hear Simon next to me apologizing profusely. I reach for his hand and hold it tightly. I don’t have much time before I am a bat again, and although I am cross with him, I don’t wish for him to beat himself up over this.

I give a small lop-sided grin to Simon and collapse onto his shoulder as the transformation takes over (hopefully for a final time).

SIMON

And so we’re here again. Bat-Baz nestled in my curls (I think he’s having a nap, the transformations take a lot of energy out of him), Penny making tasteless bat-related jokes and puns, and me trying to keep my head on straight. It’s becoming more and more difficult to do so.

Baz hasn’t wanted to change back into a human and has been feeling extra mopey. I’ve cut up some more fruit for him, but he hasn’t been in the mood to eat anything. I’ve tried petting his head, his wings, his tiny back… no response from him.

I now reach up to my head and hope that Bat-Baz decides to climb onto my hand. I sprinkled some sugared water on my hand as a way to coax him (with that sweet-tooth he’s got). A smile spreads across my lips as I feel his tiny body clamber into my palm. I bring him down to eye-level and he begins to excitedly lick the sugar off of my hand. I start laughing and give him a kiss on one of his wings. Bat-Baz stops licking and a small blush creeps over his cheeks.

“Glad you’re feeling a little better. Can you eat something for me?” I offer him a small piece of strawberry. Bat-Baz thankfully accepts it. As he’s eating his strawberry, Penny enters the kitchen. She’s holding a notepad and a triumphant smile on her face.

“What is it, Penny?”

“I think I’ve got the spell to change Baz back.”

“Okay. What is it?”

Penny shows me the notepad. Bat-Baz looks down at it and starts to angrily chirp at Penny. I read the spell, but I’m not familiar with the quote written down.

“Where is this from, Penny? And why if Baz obviously objecting to it?” Penny’s lips curl into a sneaky smile. Whatever it is, it’s making her far too excited.

“Twilight.”

I shake my head violently and walk away from her. Absolutely not! Baz hates that entire series. He claims they are terrible books, and the very notion of dazzling in the sunlight is offensive to him as a vampire.

“You’ve got to be joking Penny! Of all books to choose, you chose Twilight? Baz will never forgive you.” I look down to see Bat-Baz giving Penny the most judgmental look I have ever seen (well for a bat, that is).

“The quote is technically from the movie, but it should still work! The entire franchise is wildly popular! I still see Normals walking around with Team Edward shirts!”

Bat-Baz covers his head in his wings. It’s going to take some convincing for him to be on board with this, but so far, it’s the best shot we’ve got (even though it’s a rather piss-poor shot).

“Alright. Let’s try it.” I sigh and follow Penny into the living room.

Penny smiles and holds out her hand. I place Bat-Baz in one of my hands and cradle him carefully. He grips onto my thumb and curls into a small ball (I think he’s begun to lose hope at this point… also, bloody Twilight? As if he wasn’t mortified enough). I give Penny my other hand. She lifts the notepad to my eye level and I read off the first line of quote.

“I know what you are” I say to my tiny bat-boyfriend. Penny places her hand gently over Bat-Baz’s head, making sure the ring finger touches him directly. She squeezes my hand tightly and looks into my eyes.

“Say it. Out loud… SIMON SNOW say it!” She yells. I can feel her magic in the air, stong, comforting, with the distinct smell of sage in the air. I feel it wash over me and vibrate over Bat-Baz’s tiny body. He beginning to chirp wildly and I begin to worry that we’re hurting him. I want to get this spell done with. I speak in a loud clear voice:

“Baz Pitch… Vampire-Mage”

A bright, white light explodes from Penny’s ring and causes us to fall backwards. In the commotion that occurs, I let go of Bat-Baz and he slips from my grasp. The white light envelopes him completely and I need to shield my eyes. A strong force pushes Penny and me back a little more. I try to look for where Baz landed, but all I can see if the piercing white light. I have to hope that he’s somewhere in there, turning back into himself. Eventually, the white light starts to dim and the pulsing magical force starts to die down.

Merlin please let this be it. Please let Baz be himself again. I don’t think he can handle another series of intense changes.

I hear Penny screaming before my eyes get the chance to adjust to the scene in front of me. But, there he is, on the ground and fully human again. And… naked. And unconscious! Fuck!

I yell at Penny to get me some water for him. I grab a nearby blanket and scramble to him. I drape the blanket over his body and gently lift his head from the floor.

My anxious mind winds down as I hear his slow steady breaths. He’s alive, but probably completely drained. I lift him a little more and position my legs beneath him, so that I can better support him. Penny comes back with a glass of water and a small wet towel. She bends down and places her hand on his arm.

“Is he alright?” She asks, concern washing over her brown eyes.

I nod at her. Penny sighs with relief and places the glass on the floor, beside me. I ask her to go find some clothes for him, for when he wakes up. I grab the towel from her and start to dab his brow and his face. As I work, I hear a soft groan coming from his lips. His eyelids start squinting and he stirs a little. I give him a small delicate shake.

“Baz? It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

He starts to mumble something, but it’s hard for me to understand him. I lean in closer to him. “What was that?”

“That was wholly unpleasant.” He opens his eyes and smiles at me. “Hello, Snow.” he drawls.

“Hi.” I laugh at him. I help him sit up and offer the glass of water to him. He smiles as he takes a sip.

Baz’s little smile quickly turns into a slight frown. He looks down at the blanket covering him and his eyes bulge.

“Snow… am I, naked?”

“Um… y-yes?”

“Crowleyyyyy! Just set me on fire now!” Baz smacks his hand over his eyes in complete humiliation. I wrap one of my arms over his shoulders and gently hold him close. Baz buries his face into my shoulder and wraps one of his arms around my neck. I kiss the side of his head and rub small circles on his back. Penny creeps back into the room and quietly places some clothes beside me. I turn to her and mouth a “thank you”. Penny smiles and squeezes my wing. She heads to her room and closes the door, allowing us some much-needed privacy.

I give Baz a small shake and he lifts his head from my shoulder. I grab the clothes and hand them to him. He accepts them and starts putting them on. I get up from the floor and give him a few moments to collect himself and regain his dignity.

I’m putting some water to boil for tea when I feel a set of strong cool arms wrapping around me. Baz leans his head on my shoulder and gives me a small kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you. For everything today.” He whispers to me.

I smile in return. He doesn’t need to thank me. For him, I’d do it all.

“D’you think it worked this time?”

Baz sighs, “There’s only one way to find out.”

I turn to face him and study his deep-grey eyes. They’re tired, mostly. He draws a shaky breath, worried that the spell didn’t work.

“It had to have worked. I know it did.” I whisper to him. Baz closes his eyes and lowers his head.

I comb his hair back with my fingers and trail my hand down his face. We both take a deep breath and lean into a tiny, almost-chaste kiss. I see Baz squeezing his eyes shut, anticipating the transformation to begin.

But… nothing happens.

I shake Baz happily. “Baz! It worked! You’re you again!”

Baz begins to laugh and touches his forehead to mine. He grips my face in his hands and pulls me into a deep kiss. I lean into him and respond with a small happy sigh.

Baz pulls away and cocks an eyebrow at me. “I think I’m going to take a break from visiting my parents. I’ve had enough excitement to last me quite a while.”

I roll my eyes and him and flick his chin. “Baz… I don’t want to hear about your family right after you’ve snogged me.”

Baz laughs and pulls away again. He grabs my hand and leads me slowly into the bedroom. Once we’re inside, and with a coy smile, he grabs his wand from the nightstand and closes the door.

#The Return of Bat-Baz #Bat-Baz #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #basilton pitch #snowbaz #carry on #wayward son #crack #Yes hello I am a trash #trash #I am also a shit #comforting boyfriend #Simon Snow is a good boyfriend #my writing #fanfic

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darkshadow90 · 4 years

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His Obsession Chapter 25

A/N: Hey guys. Here’s the most recent chapter of my main story. I don’t know how to post hyperlinks to all the chapters, so I’ve been posting each chapter individually from Archive of Our Own. Here’s the link if you want to check out the rest of the story. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788122/chapters/51990736 I hope you like the chapter 🙂

Ashe only had a few hours of sleep. She woke up feeling groggy, but couldn’t go back to sleep. The way Arthur had acted toward her, the way he had forcefully kissed her without her permission made her anxious. She was tossing and turning throughout the night. Arthur was asleep on the other side of the bed. He was sleeping like a baby. Seeing him that way almost made it hard to believe she was being held captive by an extremely unstable man. She got up and took a shower. She was quick about it. She was afraid Arthur would come in. ‘I just can’t get it out of my head. Did I say something that made him act on impulse? I’ve seen that dark look in his eyes before, but it was when he was upset about something. This was different. He was smiling. I mentioned those people he hurt, and he was chuckling about it. It was like he enjoyed hurting them, reliving the moment. His demeanor was so different. It really was like he was a completely different person. Could that be his “Joker” persona? Maybe it’s a darker, more aggressive part of him. In a fucked up way it reminds me of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde. One minute he’s sweet and caring. He has a fucked up way of going about it, but he wants to keep people he cares about safe. I don’t think he wants or means to hurt them, or anyone else. But then there’s that dark part of him. It was pure ID. He was acting on his impulses, doing what he wanted. It was so unlike Arthur. I’ve never seen him so confident. There was this arrogance and smugness to him. And the way he kissed me...I’ve been kissed many times. It wasn’t a kiss of love or romance. He didn’t kiss me like any of the boyfriends I’ve had. None of my boyfriends were ever forceful like that. That kiss wasn’t love. It was demanding, full of lust. He was demanding that kiss. And I just let him do it. I should’ve done something, but I was afraid. It all happened so fast. He didn’t ask if I was okay. That’s the side of him I’m afraid of. What if it comes out again? What am I supposed to do then?’ She didn’t want to think about it. She dressed herself in a red long sleeved sailor shirt, a pair of jeans, and she tied her hair into a ponytail with a red ribbon. She couldn’t find the pants she usually wore with that shirt, so jeans would have to do. She quietly left the room, careful not to wake Arthur and went to the kitchen.

When Ashe went into kitchen, she saw Sid and Barry eating cereal. She grabbed a bowl from one of the cupboards and was about to pour herself some cereal when she noticed they were watching her. “I...I was just gonna have some cereal. Then I’ll leave you alone.” She poured herself a bowl, and took a seat at the table. The larger man, Barry, got up and she cringed. She was expecting him to shove her and yell at her to get lost. Instead, he came back with a milk carton. “You forgot this.” “Oh. Th...thanks.” Barry nodded. “You don’t have to be afraid of us, you know. We won’t hurt you.” “But you...” “Helped the infamous Joker. But we have our reasons. Why are you so nervous around us?” “It’s not you. It’s just...I’m scared because you look like some of those creeps I’d see wandering the city late at night.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “N...nothing. I just meant you’re bigger than me. The guys I would see at night were big. Women sometimes got hurt by guys like that. A girl like me would be a perfect target. You remind me of them.” “Well, you don’t need to worry ‘cause we aren’t them.” “Relax, Barry. She didn’t mean to offend us.” Sid said. “I know. I just get tired of people assuming a big, burly guy like me would be mean and violent. I’m not. I only get like that if I need to.” “I’m sorry if I-“ “Don’t worry about it.” Barry said.

Ashe broke the silence. “Can I ask you guys something?” “Go for it.” “Why are you helping Arthur?” “Arthur, huh? So that’s his real name? I wouldn’t have expected a guy like that to have such a common name. He’d probably shoot us dead in the face if we called him that. You’re a lucky girl.” “Sid, don’t say that in front of her.” “Sorry. Anyway, we’re not just bad guys. We were actually just everyday citizens once. We never had much money. Our mom worked as a cleaning lady. We would help out at some if the local shelters. They looked a lot like this one. A lot of different people would come to them. Some of them were people recently evicted from their apartments because rent kept going up in the city. Especially in the poor areas. Others were people leaving abusive relationships. Shelters at least gave them food, a bed to sleep in, and a way to maintain their personal hygiene. We cooked meals for them. We liked what we were doing. Then mom got sick. We had to take on extra hours. We didn’t qualify for state care because we weren’t poor enough. We did what we could, but she didn’t make it. Then the social services got cut and we lost our jobs and eventually our apartment. We had nowhere to go. Luckily on the night of the riots, that’s when we found the boss. We help him out, and in exchange we get money and a roof over our heads. It’s a dangerous job, but we gotta do what we can to survive. All we have is each other now.” “I’m sorry about your mom.” “Thanks.” Ashe felt bad for them. She understood where they were coming from, but it didn’t excuse their actions. She was glad they weren’t complete assholes. She decided to get up and have a look around the place. Maybe she would find a phone or something to help her get out of there.

Arthur woke up. He wiped the sleep from his eyes. He didn’t see Ashe, so he knew she was up already. He got up and took a shower. He got dressed and put on his makeup. As he made his way down the hall, he heard the boys talking. He couldn’t make out what they were saying. He didn’t concern himself with it. He walked passed the kitchen. He walked passed some of the rooms, and found Ashe looking around in one of them. “What are you doing in here, doll?” Ashe felt her heart pound. She was afraid she got herself in trouble.

#arthur fleck #joker fandom #joker 2019 #joker fanfiction #joker movie #joaquin phoenix joker

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skruffie · 4 years

Text

the ADHDening

so... I will start off with what I know: I was diagnosed with dyscalculia in 2011. I know that learning disabilities and ADHD often go hand in hand. I know that I’ve talked with other ADHD people who have said “That sure sounds like ADHD” and I’ve talked with my mother about it and she said “Yeah i wouldn’t be surprised if you have ADHD, I’m starting to think I have it too”. I know that I was diagnosed with PTSD in 2012 and that I did EMDR therapy for it which helped quite a lot for most of the symptoms, and I know that I shared about 99% of everything that I just talked about in the intake session, on my paperwork, with the guy doing the testing, etc. and today I was told that ADHD can’t necessarily be ruled out but it’s probably depression and anxiety--the answer that pretty much any AFAB person can expect in this situation.

I can feel in my bones that this is going to be a long post! (I do get briefly TMI in one sentence regarding like, sex but it’s not in detail but just keep that in mind)

Both in the dyscalculia assessment from years ago and in this one that I just did a couple weeks ago involve an IQ test aspect. IQ is really not super great science, but I got similar results both times (126 in 2011, 127 in 2020). Much like in 2011, I scored very alarmingly high in the areas of verbal intelligence. I scored in the top percentile. This seems to match my 2011 score in the area for reading/writing/communication. I’ve always been a really advanced reader and... if I can say, smarter than I think I accept?

The weak areas I scored in for this were things like processing speed and I had average scores in other things like fine motor skills and such. I’m trying to remember all of it because it was quite a lot of groundwork that we covered and she also explained the function for each test, but I don’t have my full report with me yet so I can’t really fully get All the details, but she noticed the trend for the areas of weakness were brain functions that are pretty centered in the frontal lobe. I remember this because she was motioning to the frontal lobe area of her face.

I did do really well with this one part, which was the storytelling aspect (a story being read to me and then I try to repeat back as many details as I can remember) but scored less so on the one that required me to repeat back just specific words void of context, so she was saying something that can help with my recall is to try to contextualize information in a story. It’s not a bad tip, honestly.

So it was kind of weird for her to bring up these specific points that seemed like they were pointing to ADHD like remarking how on one of the tests my mind blanked out while it was timed (and it was also math related), pointing out my impulsivity on another test, things like that, and then conclude that it must be transitive depression and anxiety. one of the big factors is that my sleep is really fucked now to a point where I’ve been taking a benadryl a night to knock me out on a consistent schedule (because ADHD and sleep problems are a thing!) but she took my answer of “can’t get my brain to shut up” as a contributing factor to insomnia to “can’t get my brain to shut up about things that worry me” literally, this morning. I woke up at 5:30 and couldn’t go back to sleep because I had the name Crispus Attucks stuck in my head on a loop.

She told me that benadryl used like this could cause memory problems so I’ll at least stop taking it now, but I already know what is going to happen because I have tried literally everything that I can to keep a consistent sleep schedule. She wanted to send me information on good sleep hygiene like I haven’t considered or done it yet. Here’s a list of what I’ve tried: going to bed early, going to bed when tired, reading before bed, meditation, melatonin (STOPPED WORKING FOR ME ENTIRELY), [TMI ahead] masturbation, weighted blanket, aromatherapy, journaling. This also completely ignores the fact I’ve been struggling with sleep problems virtually my whole life. Obviously stress makes it worse but my mom can attest that I’ve been a weird sleeper since I was a literal infant.

She wants me to get more sleep but with the schedule I was keeping up until the pandemic started, I literally would not have time to do anything. I would have to get home and immediately go to sleep for the amount of sleep that I need. The pandemic has shifted things considerably for me now that I’m not out of my house 12 hours a day but since I’ve been doing this for a few months now with little change in my concentration abilities I don’t think it was the schedule that was CAUSING it.

Also, a potential side effect of SSRIs is insomnia. She won’t want to put me on ADHD meds but putting me on SSRIs is a walk in the park?? Medication that can make my already fragile circadian rhythm even more broken? Really?

Anxiety being a factor is like telling me that my hair is brown. What I’ve personally noticed though as I’ve been looking back on my life with the “do I have ADHD?” hat on is that a lot of my anxious moments surround when I’m running head first into a limitation that seems to be caused by ADHD! What I thought was maybe a trauma response I believe now to be RSD! My anxiety is not taking over my life though. It’s a factor of my life, and there are times when it’s not proportional to what is happening, but I’ve accumulated a wealth of coping skills to fall back on to deal with it. One of the reasons I sought out my previous therapist was because it felt like my anxiety was getting unmanagable but by the end when we mutually decided to part ways she said that I seemed pretty okay and that my anxiety wasn’t so much that I needed to continue therapy. How did I go from that (a therapist that admittedly didn’t seem to understand why I am bothered by thoughts of my abuser) to needing medication to control my moods?

I don’t have depression. I just don’t. I was confident in my answers on that part of the screening and even made an offhand comment to one of my friends just the other night that I was answering on the low or none answers for “have you felt ____ in the last two weeks” part. The feelings that I have that look like depression again are linked to my limitations: feeling like that I’m fucking things up or that I’m worthless because I’m not able to complete tasks that are simple or maintain my focus like “normal people”, not that I feel like I’m a fuckup or worthless most of the time with no other context.

The full list of what she suggested is this:

1. Stop taking benadryl (easiest thing on the list)

2. Find a therapist (kind of a sensible suggestion)

3. Potentially find a different job altogether (not realistic right now because I’ve just finished what I’ve been working toward for the past year and it’s 10k more a year for me. I’m NOT happy with my job but I’m not about to abruptly quit either)

4. If not quit, see about transferring to the office closer to me (easier said than done, I just need to wait for someone in that unit to quit or be fired and also I’m not sure if I can transfer while I’m in a probationary period for the permanent position)

5. Get more sleep (like I didn’t even think of that before)

Here’s what I’m going to predict will happen with my sleep because this is going to be the most immediate change I’ll notice, and also the benadryl has been more of a stop gap than a magic bullet: my insomnia is going to get worse. It’s going to take me longer to fall asleep, and my once-a-night waking up is going to increase to several times a night. This is going to get worse at different points with my cycle but the next cycle is going to probably be even worse.

#adhd #maybe....#giant wall of text

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greysgonnawrite · 5 years

Text

The Ladies and Gentlemen of N.O.B.L.E.

Before we begin I’d like to give credit to the wonderful @8bithouseoffun for his work on editing this

“Time of death is calculated at 5:23, approximately an hour and a half ago.” The taller of two men said, looking at a holographic projection of his own face, subtly making an effort to emphasize his good side for the recording. “We’re still looking for a cause of death, but as you can see here,” he made a motion of grabbing the edge of the floating screen, and it followed his hand as he pointed it to the cadaver lying on the table, “the body appears to be in a state of severe anatomical shift. There seems to be no external wounds, but once we shave off the fur that’s already grown, we’ll get a better look. Once we have more information, we’ll continue recording. In the meantime, Dorian, stop recording functions. Keep the camera up, though. I’ll want to get a better look at this guy.”

“Yes, Doctor.” A mechanical voice came from a phone resting on another table, next to several medical instruments. The display floating in front of the man went through slight alterations while still in his hand, and after several more gestures, he had given himself a sufficient closeup of the body.

“You can stop hiding in the corner,” he said to his companion, “you’re not going to get caught on tape.”

The shorter man, despite being nowhere near a corner, had been keeping his distance from the camera’s vision, and was making himself as quiet as possible, lest a cough be heard in the background of the notes. “You don’t have to film your notes, you could just record them and not have to worry about how you look. Or better yet, just write them down.” Not in the business of being a hypocrite, in his hands rested a beat up notebook with an equally aged pen, one of many located on his person, filled with lines upon lines of notes.

“As fun as that looks, I think it’s better in the long run if people know what the hell I’m saying.” The tall man motioned to his coworker’s notes, which, to be honest, were quite indecipherable to anyone but the man who’d written them. “Besides, I don’t ‘have to’ worry about how I look. I get to take an opportunity to show myself off.” To this, the other man didn’t even acknowledge he’d said anything.

The men stood in a cramped lab, both wearing long white coats and making their own notes on information being displayed on holographic screens floating around them. Between them rested a medical table with the corpse; it looked like it used to be human, but its features were warped and misshapen. The two had been silent for some time when the taller man finally spoke up. “So we’re not going to say anything to each other until we have to?”

The shorter man removed his glasses and wiped them off. “You want a conversation? What do you want to talk about?” His eyes never left the displays.

“I don’t know, I just can’t stand the professionalism. Two of the most brilliant doctors in the world, finally in the same room, and they just work quietly? Sounds pretty disappointing.”

“And that brings us back to the first thing I said, what do you want to talk about?” The shorter man had yet to shift his focus from any of the screens, his mind racing to make sense of the information he was writing down. He seemed rather poorly put together, like a man who’d forgone some of the more advanced aspects of personal hygiene. He adjusted his glasses and stared at a particularly odd portion of data.

“We could talk about you.” The taller man, by contrast, had put a great more deal of effort into his appearance. Better posture, maintained hair, and immaculately clean shaven, every movement was precise and calculated to make himself look good. “Specifically, we could talk about my theories about you.” He waved his hand and several of the displays in front of him shrunk away to give him more room to think.

The shorter man winced, but took a deep breath and did his best to sound polite, “And what, may I ask, are your theories?”

“For one, I think you’re holding him back.”

Now it was the other man’s turn to wave away his displays, letting his opposite see the frustration on his face, “You think I’m holding him back? Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do. I’d rather not let him destroy and kill whatever he comes across.”

In the time it took him to make his statement, his partner had taken his phone and brought up two more displays, one of which was a picture from a news site, the other a list of measurements for a large, human shaped creature. “Look at the way everything’s destroyed in these photos. With his musculature, everything here should look way worse. Believe it or not, I know a thing or two about what the human body is capable of. He’s clearly not being aimless in his destruction; everything is just roughed up, not crushed to bits.”

“Look, Victor, I’m not sure where you’re going with this. I already said, I try my best to keep him under control. Edward still does whatever he wants, I just… make sure he doesn’t crush everything, I guess?”

“But that’s what I’m talking about! You’re focused on stopping him, but the way you talk about it all, you shouldn’t get any say in the matter. I don’t think Eddie is as out of control as you think.” Victor tapped his phone and projected several more screens with news stories between them. “I don’t think his targets are random; shady vampire nightclubs, gargoyle poachers, several of these people have been trying various ways to replicate your formula. Did you ever find it strange that he only goes after things you personally don’t like?”

“You know what? I think we’re done talking.” The smaller man had already brought his screens back up and went back to work. “Let’s just get this finished so we can go home and we never have to talk again.”

“Oh, there’s not much we can do now, I’ve had a sample of the fur sent for analysis. We just need to wait for the results.” Victor gave a smile that was dripping with smugness. “Which means we get to talk more about you, Hank.”

“Hold on,” the other man said, once again waving away his holograms. “First, I told you to call me Henry. Second, why did you bother getting the fur analysed? This looks like a pretty cut and dry case of lycanthropy. Probably killed in the middle of his change.”

“But it’s not cut and dry!” Victor ran around the table to Henry’s side and, lifted the body’s right hand, which was as grotesque and out of proportion as the rest of the man’s body; the mere act of picking it up required the full effort of both of Victor’s arms. “Look at this! If we compare it to his left hand, which has barely changed at all…” he ran back to his side of the table and raised the hand, which seemed mostly normal by comparison, outside of the fingernails being twice the size one would expect them to be.

“Yeah, it’s bigger and messed up, that’s what happens when it turns into a claw.” Henry said, annoyed by his colleague’s antics.

“Yes! But there’s no way it’d get this big.” Vic shot back, unceremoniously dropping the hand back onto the table. “If this poor bastard was just suffering from regular lycanthropy, it’d be at least a fourth of its current size. Something’s way off about this, so I took a sample of fur and I’m getting it checked out.”

Henry looked at the body, then at his notes, everything Victor said about the hands was true, but something was bothering him. “When did you get a fur sample? You haven’t left that spot since I’ve been in here, much less left the room for analysis.”

“Oh, I took care of that before you got here, I noticed it a few seconds after I first saw the body, I’ve just been killing time waiting for the results. Should be almost done, actually.”

Henry sighed, “Then what have you been doing the whole time I’ve been working?”

“Reading up on you! I had you scanned as soon as you walked through the door. I have to say, your physiology is incredible!”

“You scanned me?”

“I scan everyone, don’t feel special. Hey, new theory; You still have to let Eddie come out and play every now and then, don’t you?”

Henry was stunned. He’d worked so hard to keep that a secret, and Victor had found out within an hour of meeting him. He stammered slightly before finding the right words, “How did you find out?”

Victor brought up more of his displays and turned them so they faced Henry. “It wasn’t that hard, not for me anyways. A lot of your organs, particularly those in your circulatory and cardiovascular systems, are pretty out of proportion. They likely shouldn’t function for longer than a few weeks. I’m guessing around the time that Eddie stopped being an angrier version of yourself and started being an actual monster was around the same time this started happening; your body couldn’t totally handle the strain of shrinking back. What’s interesting is that these effects would’ve reverted on their own if you stopped juicing up. But I was under the impression that there wasn’t any addictive components in your formula, so either I’m wrong- unlikely- or you’re having fun and don’t want to admit it.”

“It’s not that simple!” Henry snapped, a twinge of panic leaking through his voice, “If I stop drinking it cold turkey, then my oversized organs run the risk of failure. Putting an end to becoming Edward needs to be a carefully measured process; if I don’t drink enough, then it kills me, and if I drink too much… I’m not really sure what happens there, but none of the simulations show any promise!”

Victor put a hand on his colleague’s shoulder, “I get it-”

“I doubt you’re going through the same thing.” Henry tried to push his hand off of him, but Victor ignored his efforts.

“Hank, neither of us are here because of what we’re proud of. Our greatest accomplishments are specifically rooted in ruining our fucking lives! I may not turn into anything or lose control like you, but I made a god damned monster. I still have nightmares of its face staring up at me as it was confronted with the existential horror of being alive. So yeah, I might know a thing or two about what you’re going through. Now, we don’t have to continue this line of conversation if you want, that’s fine, but if you want to keep talking, know that I’m prepared to.”

Henry stared in silence, unsure of how to respond. Seconds later a disappointed looking Victor shook his head and went back to making notes.

After a moment of quiet that lasted far too long, a small voice came from Victor’s phone. “Doctor, your analysis of the fur has been completed.”

Eager for the shift in tone, Victor happily spoke up. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, Dorian. Go ahead and bring up the results.” Victor had barely finished talking when several screens reappeared with lines upon lines of new data scrolling on them. Once again, Dorian’s voice chimed in.

“I’ve taken the liberty of marking particularly unique portions of data for you.” True to his word, multiple lines of code stood out in red highlights.

“Could you cut out the middleman and just show those portions?” Victor said, his mind racing with the implications of what he was reading.

“Of course, Doctor.”

Henry adjusted his glasses again, pushing the previous conversation to the back of his head so he could focus on the results. “None of these readings are making sense, this isn’t like any case of lycanthropy I’ve ever seen.”

“Probably because it isn’t like any case of lycanthropy that’s ever been. Check out the genetics.”

Henry’s eyes darted to another screen and he skimmed through its data until a glaring detail stood out to him. “That can’t be right. These sequences don’t make sense.” His words trailed off as he brought his hands up, signaling for a holographic keyboard to appear under them. He ran several searches through a genetic database until he found what he was looking for.

“What the hell’s going on?” Victor asked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. “None of these results line up with any known species of wolf, much less any known werewolves!”

“That’s because they aren’t lupine,” Henry started, gesturing for one of his screens to be copied over to Victor. “They’re ursine. Whatever’s going on, this guy was on his way to becoming the first known werebear.”

Now it was Victor’s turn to be stunned. He read over the screens several more times before he finally accepted the reality that Henry had laid out for him. “This is… incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“If I had to guess, cause of death is the same thing you saw in me, but on a larger scale. This guy’s insides got way to big way too fast, and his body couldn’t handle it.”

“You’re half right,” Victor started, his head slowly turning towards the window. “That definitely happened to him, but it didn’t kill him.” He calmly walked away from his work station and began packing up several items.”

“You mean something else killed him?”

“I mean nothing killed him. I know more about the dead than anyone else on on the damn planet, and I can say that that man’s not dead yet. I should’ve seen it before, but I didn’t know what I was dealing with. Those changes were brought on by an artificial full moon, probably a UV light with a lunar prism on it, it lead to a slower, uneven change, until the poor bastard couldn’t function. No blood flow, no breathing, stuck mid change, obviously he’d be pronounced dead.” He scolded himself as he finished grabbing his things. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“So now what? The great Doctor Frankenstein solves a medical mystery and now he’s on his way? Why don’t you stick around, see if we can’t change him back?”

Victor snapped around to face him. “Because he’s past the point of changing back, the transformation can only proceed. You should get going too, seeing as our wonderful little laboratory has a nice big window with a great view of the city!”

Henry looked out the window that took up most of one of the lab’s walls. Sure enough, it did offer a great view of the city, but it also gave the viewer a breathtaking sunset every night, much like the sun setting right now. An overlay projected on the corner of the window contained a helpful display that informed the viewer of various details such as the date, time, weather, and, most worryingly, the phase of the moon that would be in the sky that night. Without missing a beat, Henry began packing his things as well. “So what, you were just going to leave me in there if I hadn’t asked?”

“You wouldn’t have been helpless, I’m sure you keep some formula on you wherever you go. Don’t bother grabbing all the pens just go.”

Despite Victor’s protests, Henry did grab his pens and shoved theminto his pockets before hurrying out the door, just in time to hear unsettling cracks coming from the table. “I don’t think having Edward and that… thing interacting would make the situation any better.”

Once they were both out the door, Victor pulled out his phone. “Dorian, put Lab 7 into lockdown, and get Captain Talbot on the line. Actually, turn the video recording in the lab back on while you’re at it. Might as well get some data out of this.” As he spoke, the Lab’s blast doors began descending, eventually blocking out the sounds of pained groaning that had started emanating from the subject on the table. “Larry, glad to hear your voice. I need N.O.B.L.E. Forces on Floor 15, silver armements. Subject was incorrectly pronounced dead and is a pretty heavy security risk. Yes, Dr. Jekyll and I have evacuated the area and we are making our way towards the elevators. Stairs? You sure? Alright, but that’s our blood on your hands. Got it. Tell your men they’ll need heavier ammunition than they’re expecting, but I want that thing captured, not killed. Well tell them to try to capture it. Thank you.” On that final note, the Doctor finally put his phone away as the two men made their way towards the stairs.

“He’s right, you know. In an emergency, stairs are generally the safer option.” Henry said after Victor hung up.

“What ‘I know’ is that I’m right, you should let Ed deal with that. He’d be way more useful in restraining that thing then a bunch of armed goons.”

“Why do you want to catch it anyways?”

“Because I would kill for an interview to figure out what the hell lead to a man turning into that. A mutation to that degree doesn’t happen in nature.”

“What, you’re saying someone made that?”

“I’m not only saying that, but I’m saying that if it was in such a state that I thought it was dead, then whoever’s behind it probably thinks it was a failure when they dumped the body.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Henry said, taking a second to catch his breath on one of the landings.

“How many iterations of your formula did you have to go through before Ed came out? If whoever did this is anything like us, which I’m willing to wager they are, then a perceived failure is just a setback, they’re going to try something like this again, and soon, if they can.”

Henry paused for only a moment as the full implications of what he was just told sunk in. “We have to tell the Director about this! Get a whole investigation launched.”

“We’ll tell Rose everything we can after this is all dealt with. In the meantime, our only option is to get somewhere safe and get ready for whatever’s next.” Despite the confidence Victor spoke with, his head was racing with a thousand different questions, none of which he could properly answer. Normally, being like this just made him uncomfortable, but in this moment, for the first time in decades, he was scared.

#writing #fiction #Noble

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shazyloren · 6 years

Text

At The Bar, We Meet

Summary: Dany's had three bad first dates in February alone, perhaps she was only meant for her pink vibrator after all. That's until someone else arrives at the bar having an equally bad time of it.

Notes: As you know, I am taking part in a challenge on tumblr by user @jonerysfics and @mhysaofdragons in which for seven days from Valentines day I am uploading a new one shot. The prompts have been provided and the stories have all been written and I gotta say you're in for a lot of Jonerys content. So Day 3, 16th February, which is when I'm uploading this, the prompt I chose was 'Bad First Date'. This is my spin on a situation many of us find ourselves in on Valentine's day.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812064

-----

“What’s wrong with me, Viz?” She sighs as she swirls the content of her glass in her hand. “Am I just some sort of freak magnet?”

Daenerys Targaryen had just returned from her third bad date of the month and given it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow it was safe to say she’d be spending it alone with a bottle of Rose and her pink vibrator.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Dany” He implored from the other side of the bar, filling her drink to the brim again. “You’re gonna meet the man of your dreams one day, I promise you. None of these men deserve the average woman let alone you. Your my sister, the best a man could get, I got your back don't worry about it!”

“Thanks” She puts a smile on, thankful for the niceties but in all honesty she just wanted to sit and wonder what had gone wrong.

One of them, had worked at a pet shop, which was fine, until he’d said that he takes the python to bed every night so it gets used to him. There was no way this side of hell she’d get in a bed with a snake that wasn’t attached to a man.

Fucking weirdo.

She shuddered to just think about it.

Another only wanted sex and told her outright from the minute they sat down in a fancy restaurant, turned out she’d arranged a date with a sugar daddy who was willing to give her £3000 for sleeping with him. Not the man to bring home to Rhaella Targaryen.

And then the one she’d just ran from, offered her a gift of his fingernail clippings and a Manchester United shirt. Daenerys didn’t know which one she was more disgusted by, her father never speak to her again if she wore the shirt and the nail clippings was just outright gross.

One day, I’ll date someone normal.

“Scotch, neat please” She hears a northern accent sound from the seat next to her, a sound which she associated with a bad day. At least she wasn’t the only one.

“Coming right up, sir” Her brother nods and fixes the man up with one. Dany turns sideways to glance at the man who has just decided to sit next to her and when she does, her eyes widen with feint recognition.

I know you…

“Jon?” She asks, unsure if it really is him. He turns and looks at her, his eyes confused for a moment while he sips his drink. Then, it clicks into place.

“Daenerys Targaryen?” He becomes nervous, shakily putting his glass down, and they both know why that is. Time flies, this was a blast from the past she had not been expecting.

Damn, he looks like a right snack … she thinks to herself. Jon Snow, she used to go to High school with him over ten years ago. He was a lot smaller then, in terms of muscle, but she could see his arms and torso almost pulsating through the shirt he had on now.

“How have you been? You look great” She almost smiles suggestively, sipping her own drink. She was eighteen when she last looked into those eyes. I sucked his dick in the school toilets in year 10, 15 years old and way inexperienced . Her luck with men clearly hadn’t changed that much. He says he's been good and thanks her for the compliment. “I haven’t seen you in what, twelve years?”

“About that, I just turned 30” He confirms, a look of reminiscing present on his face.

“What you doing in town anyways? Last I heard you’d flown to New York to work” She asked interested more so in his sudden reappearance in town than the lame dates she’d been on. Anything to stop being traumatised by fingernail clippings...

“Oh, I came back years ago” He said with a chuckle, gruff and causing a slight tingling in Dany's ears. “It was a great experience but, I missed home. My sister Sansa fell pregnant with her partner at the age of 20 and I just decided to come home and work and be a good uncle”

“I get that, my friend Missandei is always travelling the world, comes home every few months. Nothing like the comforts of home, she says” She sighed, looking into her once again empty glass. It was strange how the conversation seemed easy.

“You want a refill, Dany?” Viz asks.

“Go on then, brother. Give Jon one too, put it on my tab” She asks and Jon nods in appreciation. “So why you at the bar then? You haven’t happened to finish up a bad date like me? Or should I say I got the hell out of there as quickly as possible”

“Actually, yes” He laughs to her surprise. Maybe today was the day the universe turned on decent people . “Redhead, nice girl or at least I thought so, she wanted me to do the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp with her at Hotel Paris on Baelor’s street”

“Gods above” Dany’s wide eyed response got Jon laughing. “I thought mine was bad”

“Let me guess, hair strands given as a gift?” Jon snorted.

“Close, nail clippings” The laugh on his face dropped as if he was going to be sick. He asks her if she was being serious, she nodded. “He also gave me a Manchester United Shirt so I had to dip on him, I should’ve known something was off when he didn’t want gravy on a roast dinner, what kind of moron doesn’t want that?”

“There are some strange folk around” Jon agreed, both of them kinda silent for a moment. However, Jon instigates the conversation once again. “How about yourself, what have you been up to?”

He’s hot…

Really fucking hot...

Like bend me over your knee and fist me like I'm nothing hot...

Daenerys, behave yourself…

“I run a non-profit” Dany replies, trying to temper her feelings. “It’s for helping women who’s been apart of domestic abuse get their life back on track, help with hygiene and food and school for their children, other than that I work on my father’s board of executives for his solar company which develop more economical ways to create electricity”

“So long story short, everything you wanted to do in high-school didn’t happen” He laughs, they both have to. A familiar memory of her dancing outside the school toilets to entice Jon in, ringing through their minds. What a wild and free-spirited individual she was then...

“I did not become a dancer, no” Daenerys found it really easy to talk to him, perhaps it was his familiarity. “Instead I just become a woman who has every aspect of her life going accept the one she has an interest in working”

“Pah, relationships are shit anyways” He grumbles and Dany can't help but chuckle at him. The distant memory of a redheaded girl leaving him for some other hotshot man came into her mind.

“You're not still upset about her, are you? Ygritte?” She giggles. His solemn silence answers it all. “Jon, that was Year 12”

“Still hurts” He shrugged, striking her as the type to never get over something truly. “Never met anyone like her since”

“Yes, the lying and cheating type is hard to come by” She cackles before gulping the last of her drink. If she wasn’t careful she’d fall off of her chair. “Look, there’s someone out there, bad dates just mean you’re getting through that shit to find them. Optimism!”

“Urgh, I hate that word” Well at least he’s honest…

“Jon” Dany stated plainly. “You do realise you’re a bit of a snack, yeah?”

“I’m a bit of a what?” He blinks, unaware of what is about to come out of Daenerys mouth.

“A snack” She nods. “Look at you, that curly hair still looks as well maintained as it did at our Leavers ball, your eyes are deep and mysterious, you clearly work out, your accent is gruff and sexy and you smile like a child who just found a stash of cupcakes, you’re a total snack”

“Here we go” She hears her brother mumble and walk off to serve other customers. Shut your face, Viz.

“Okay, that’s a lot to process” Jon chortles, but he knows it’s meant in good fun.

“It’s suppose to be a compliment” Dany speaks sincerely, a hand placed on his knee to show her sincerity. “Any girl who acts a fool, or turns you down, or cheats on you, is a fucking moron”

Well done, Daenerys, just open your legs why don’t you, cut to the chase .

Daenerys wasn’t finished. “And anyways, last week I went on a date with a guy who wanted to put me in his bed with his pet Python, so it can’t ever be that bad”

“People are indeed strange” He agrees once more. Fucking hell if he smoulders at me one more time I'm taking my knickers of now and he can fuck me against the bar .

They were quiet after that, just a small groaning of the jukebox behind them playing tunes and the sounds of snooker cues hitting balls. Dany looked around, anywhere but Jon while she collected her thoughts.

Why not?

That’s all she can find herself to say. So what if she sucked his dick once all those years ago, so what if it’s only because they’ve both had bad dates and they were just looking for a bit of human contact. It’s just sex right, she should at least ask or she won’t get.

“Hey Jon”

“-Dany”

They both realised they’d spoke at the same time.

“Sorry, you go first” Jon offered.

“Oh, okay” She nodded, her eyebrow rising as a little smirk appeared on her face. “You wanna get out of here?”

If there’s any justice in the world, you will say yes, Jon Snow.

There’s a moment where she thinks she’s fucked up, but when the same smirking expression is sent back to her, she knows there’s only one place she’s going tonight, and that was the backseat of her car.

“Depends” He shrugs before stepping off of his seat and whispering in her ear. “Are you going to be a bad girl for me?”

Dany starts giggling, completely surprised that her evening was going to be not all bad and actually looked like quite a promising night. The prospect of showing Jon Snow how she'd improved since the blowie in the school toilets days filling her with fire and want. “Is the sky blue?”

"Excellent" Jon grins, gulping his drink and smashing it on the table. He hops off of his bar stool, guides Dany off of hers and smacks her behind with glee when she begins to lead him out the door, a wave goodbye to her brother.

Now this was going to be a good evening...

#Jon snow #daenerys targaryen #jon x daenerys #jonerys #fanfic #jonerysvalentine #mhysaofdragons #game of thrones

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caroline-min-max · 6 years

Text

Caroline’s Kindness (Part 1)

Caroline has become an odd, awkward woman who is at times oblivious as to how she should act in unfamiliar situations. When it comes to children she may not respond quite as she should but she isn’t heartless.

The sudden tug at her dress startled Caroline. It was hard to repress her rabbit instincts but she managed not to jump or jerk at all. Her eyes widened for only a moment before she looked down and made eye contact with a frightened little girl. She was looking up at Caroline with big blue eyes, her long blonde hair that fell around her shoulders reminding Caroline of Goldilocks.

Whose kid is this? Caroline wondered as she briefly scanned the aisle of the supermarket she was in. There were only a few people in sight but no one that looked like a potential parent or even grandparent to the girl that stood before her.

“Um... Hello...” Caroline said awkwardly, hoping the little girl was at least old enough to practice proper hand hygiene. She’d likely gag if when the girl finally let go of her dress she’d left dirt of some sort.

“I... I can’t find my mommy!” the young girl said softly. “Can you help me?”

“Uh...” Why her of all people? “Me...?”

“Mommy said to find another lady if I ever got lost. You’re really pretty!”

“Oh!” Well Caroline certainly wasn’t going to argue with that! However... Why did this girl’s foolish error, and her mother’s lack of supervision, have to suddenly become her problem?

“Who’s this?” Min asked, making both Caroline and the little girl look over at him. He and Max had returned from the aisles they’d been browsing, placing some items into the cart that they were sharing with Caroline as they joined the two of them.

Caroline hadn’t even thought of asking that. She looked back down at the girl just into time see her move in back of her, peering around nervously at Min and Max.

“Don’t be scared,” Caroline said soothingly. “They’re friends of mine.” She felt the girl hug her around her middle, she fighting the impulse to shake her off. “They’re very nice,” she assured, struggling to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “And look, they’re identical twins! Isn’t that neat?”

The little girl didn’t seem convinced or impressed. She continued to watch the twins apprehensively.

Min and Max each crouched down. They thought likely how big they were was scary for the girl. They hoped giving her two matching, friendly smiles would help ease her fears.

“What’s your name?” Max asked gently.

“K-Kimberly...” she answered slowly after a moment.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Warren, this is William,” Max said, pointing at Min. “And she’s Mary Ann,” he said as he looked up at Caroline for moment, she relieved that he remembered to give out their aliases. Even if it was to a child it was better safe than sorry.

“Where’s your mom, Kimberly?” Min asked.

“I... I don’t know!” Kimberly answered, her voice wavering as she tried to fight back tears. “I tried to find my doll and got lost!”

“Ugh...” Caroline sighed, her shoulders slouching. Her tolerance was beginning to be tested. If this girl dared to cry into her dress or, heaven forbid, wipe her snotty nose on it, she’d leave this child to fend for herself.

"Where were you when you saw she was missing?” Max asked quickly, knowing Caroline had no patience for this sort of thing.

“When Mommy was getting some Popsicles,” Kimberly answered.

That was in the frozen foods sections, closer to the back of the store. Kimberly must have gotten completely turned around before she realized she didn’t realize how to get back to her mother.

“Tell you what,” Max said. “Mary Ann will take you to the front of the store and they’ll call for your mom. Me and William will find your doll for you.”

“Really?!” Kimberly’s fear faded away as she looked at him wide-eyed.

“Really,” Min promised with a wink.

“Wait!” Caroline said as the twins stood up. “Why do I have to take her? I can help look for the doll and one of you can instead.”

“She’s more comfortable with you,” Max pointed.

“Yes, but...” Oh wait a pain this had become! “What about the cart?” It was fairly full and Caroline wasn’t keen on abandoning it.

“We’ll take it with us,” Min answered. “Kimberly’s mother is probably worried...” He hinted gently. Anyone else would’ve likely been rushing to reunite Kimberly with her mom by now but her knew that wasn’t something Caroline would think to be concerned of.

Caroline sighed. “Fine!” She couldn’t counter their points. “Kimberly, lets go.”

It wasn’t just that Caroline was a woman, and Kimberly thought she looked like a princess, that made the girl ask her for help. Being under five feet tall made Caroline not intimidating in the slightest. In fact, Kimberly hadn’t even been sure at first if Caroline was an adult or teenager.

The young child had no idea as she gently grabbed Caroline’s hand as she followed she was touching what had stabbed hundreds of people and stained with their blood. To Kimberly Caroline’s hands were soft, warm, and comforting despite being a little smaller than her mother’s.

Caroline wouldn’t hold her hand back but allowed Kimberly to maintain her grasp. She’d likely wash her hands until they were red when she got home. No... Kids were germ factories! She should just flat out take a bath!

Thankfully Kimberly seemed well behaved enough. Caroline didn’t care if it was due to good manners or being frightened and nervous. As long as she was quiet. Kimberly stayed glued to her hip, listening as Caroline informed a customer service employee of their plight. Kimberly answered quickly when asked what her mother’s name was.

A child getting separated from their parent(s) wasn’t an uncommon occurrence so less than a minute after Caroline finished speaking the soft music that was playing throughout the store cut off. In its place was a woman asking for Kimberly’s mother, Helen Ventrix, to come get her at the front of the store.

Ventrix... That name seemed like it should be familiar to Caroline. After a few mere seconds of thinking about it, and coming up with nothing, she decided it must not be too important.

“It won’t be too long now,” Caroline said comfort Kimberly when she felt her squeeze her hand. “This is a big store but I’m sure she’ll be here in no time.”

Caroline wasn’t wrong. Although she was in heels a frantic looking woman with short blonde hair the same color as her daughter’s was soon seen running towards them. Finally letting go of Caroline’s hand, Kimberly went dashing to meet her mother.

A small smile crossed Caroline’s face to see Kimberly’s mother crouch down and hug her. If her ears could be out she would have been able to hear what she was saying but she didn’t seem to be too angry with daughter. It was probably the standard “I was so scared I lost you, don’t do that again” speech.

It must be nice to have a mother like that. One who was understanding and wasn’t screaming over the tiniest mishap.

Caroline stiffened when Kimberly turned and pointed at her, Helen turning her head to see the woman she was pointing to. She stood back up, hand in hand with her daughter as they walked back over to Caroline. As they neared her Caroline’s could see tears in Helen’s eyes.

“Thank you so, so much for helping my daughter,” Helen said, her voice radiating gratitude. “I swear I only turned my back for a second to grab a box out of a freezer!“

“Kids are sneaky like that,” Caroline replied, shrugging it off. At least, they seemed to be. She didn’t exactly know firsthand nor did she ever want to. “But I don’t think she meant to be gone for long,” she decided to elaborate, that worry still in the back of her mind that perhaps Helen might be a little harsher once they were in the privacy of their own home. “Kimberly said she lost her doll. It’s being looked for if you wouldn’t mind waiting a little.”

“He said they’d find it!” Kimberly remembered cheerfully.

Please find the damn thing... Caroline thought. She doubted Kimberly was old enough to appreciate their efforts. She’d likely have a tantrum if the twins showed up with nothing. It would embarrass Caroline and she wasn’t sure if her hearing was muffled enough by the wig for a child’s screeching to not to cause her pain.

“I’m sure they will, honey,” Helen replied.

Caroline flinched and frowned deeply. She better not have made this worse. Caroline didn’t have much faith that Min and Max would be able to locate it. In a grocery store a doll should stick out but there were too many places to look.

They’d wasted more time than Caroline had wanted to on this. She looked at her watch before crossing her arms. Her foot tapped impatiently. Likely Min and Max were conducting a thorough search when really it should be left for the person who eventually did come across it to return it to the lost and found. The mother and child could simply leave their number and be called when it happened.

In fact, Caroline was about to suggest just that when she saw Max hurrying towards, a broad grin on his face. Tucked under his arm was a Raggedy Ann looking doll.

“Here you go, Kimberly!” Max said, glad to hand the toy back over to its rightful owner.

“Thank you!” Kimberly said happily as she took it, hugging the doll and rubbing her cheek against it.

“I really don’t know how I can ever repay you and your husband...” Helen was completely overwhelmed by the kindness two complete strangers had shown her child. “She takes that doll almost everywhere with her.”

Both Max and Caroline blushed as they looked bashfully at one another.

“He and his brother rent the spare room at my home,” Caroline quickly explained. “We’re close friends thanks to it.”

“I-it was nothing...” Max replied, still taken aback. Did he and Caroline look like they could be a couple? Really? He’d never felt so flattered. He managed to quickly push it out of his mind before he crouched down in front of Kimberly. “I’ll take a high-five, though!” he said as he held his hand up.

Kimberly giggled and slapped her hand against Max’s palm.

“Thank you again,” Helen said as Max was standing up. “I should get Kimmy home now.”

Caroline noticed Helen seemed to be looking over the people who were nearby, as if she were trying to spot someone. A slight hint of relief seemed to wash over her expression before she took Kimberly’s hand.

“Bye!” Kimberly said, turning slightly to look at the trio as she followed her mother out of the store.

“Goodbye,” Caroline responded as Max waved back at her. “Where’s Min?” she asked once Kimberly and her mother had left.

“He’s checking out,” Max answered as he motioned back at the checkouts with his thumb. “We thought you’d wanna leave once this was over. We know you don’t like kids.”

“You’ve got that right!” Caroline agreed, amazed at how well these twins were getting to know her. “I hope we never have to go through that again.” She really hated doing something for others and getting nothing in return. She didn’t feel good or happy about having helped another person. She wasn’t capable of that anymore unless she knew them well and wanted to do it. It was likely Kimberly would forget all about this by tomorrow.

Max thought that Caroline did well, though. She put up with Kimberly touching her and watched what she said. He was going to tell her as much but stopped when he saw Min wheeling the cart with their purchases over to them.

“Did Kimberly’s mom pick her up?” Min asked. He tried to hurry in hopes he’d be able to at least say goodbye.

“Yes,” Caroline answered. “She seems like a very nice lady and I made sure to tell her why Kimberly wandered away. I don’t think she’ll be punished too harshly, if at all.”

Min was glad to hear it. The trio exited the store together, Min refusing to take any money from Caroline to pay for her share of the groceries.

A few months later the twins took Caroline to the toy store to look for some new puzzles. It was a hobby of hers that she’d become far too good at, finishing some puzzles within mere days. She really needed more difficult puzzles with well over 1,000 pieces.

It was slim pickings these days as Caroline owned most of the more complex ones the store had to offer. The ones with far too similar of colors or objects where there were too many possibilities of which piece could go where. She may just have to request a special order again. She was still looking when she heard a small voice behind her.

“Mary Ann?”

“Hm?” Caroline turned, naturally looking up as she expected to make eye contact with someone taller than herself. She had to look down to see the small, smiling, blonde haired girl standing in front of her that held a doll. “Oh!” It took only a split second for her to register who it was. “Kimberly! Hello!”

“Hello!” Kimberly replied happily. “Are William and Warren here too?” she asked as she looked around for them.

“They are! William, Warren!” Caroline called just loud enough for them to hear but not cause too much of a scene.

The twins rushed to her side almost immediately. They recognized Kimberly right away, smiles lighting up their faces. Caroline listened as the twins took the time to catch up a little with Kimberly, asking her questions that Caroline would have never even thought of or had any real interest in.

She thought the three wouldn’t mind if she went back to puzzle browsing when she heard Helen call Kimberly’s name. It was a small store, so she was letting Kimberly browse on her own, but thought it was odd her daughter hadn’t yet come running asking if she would buy a toy she found.

“Over here, Mommy!” Kimberly answered.

Since she didn’t have a chance to meet Min last time Helen was taken aback at first to see two identical men and Caroline with her daughter. Min quickly introduced himself as he extended his hand, Helen doing the same as she shook it.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Helen said when Min moved aside so she could see Caroline.

“I’m glad to hear you and Kimberly are doing well,” Caroline replied.

“Thank you. Actually...” Now it looked as if something was bothering Helen. “William and Warren, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,“ Max answered.

“Would you keep an eye on Kimberly for me? I want to ask Mary Ann something.”

“Sure!” Min answered. They’d be glad to.

What’s this about all of as sudden? Caroline wondered as she followed Helen out of earshot of her daughter.

“This might seem strange to ask out of the blue but would you be interested in watching Kimberly at all?” Helen asked. “She seems to like the three of you. I’ve been working while she’s at school but I want to pick more shifts.”

“U-umm...” Now that was the last thing Caroline ever expected. “Are... Are the day cares full?” she asked, trying to think of a nice way to say “no”.

“I don’t want to leave her in a daycare. You see...” She looked around to make sure no one else was nearby. “Kimberly’s father is out of jail. He’s a criminal and I don’t want him anywhere near her. I want to move because I’m terrified he’ll try to see her. I pick her up to and from school. I trust her to be there but I’m afraid at a daycare he’d have a chance to take her.”

“Lloyd Ventrix is Kimberly’s father,” Caroline realized in an instant. Now she knew why that last name stuck out to her. He was a small fry but still not someone who was fit to raise a kid.

“Yes!” Helen was baffled. How did Mary Ann know? Had it been in the papers or on the news? Her ex husband was a terrible man but he was nothing compared to the other freaks and monsters that lurked in Gotham, she oblivious to the fact one was standing right in front of her. “But how-”

“How much money do you need?” Caroline interrupted quickly without hesitation, a serious look on her face. “Listen...” She said when Kimberly’s mother seemed surprised by the question and unwilling to answer. This conversation had gone in a direction she’d never foreseen “The three of us are actually fairly wealthy. If you promise me you’ll keep it quiet we’d be more than willing to give you whatever you need to move Kimberly and yourself to safety.”

Helen shook her head. “It’s too much to ask of someone and I could never pay you back.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Caroline reached up and placed her hands on Helen’s shoulders. “Helen, I grew up in an abusive household. I am so glad that you want nothing to do with your ex and proud of you for raising Kimberly on your own. I’ll be blunt; I normally can’t stand children but I like Kimberly. I want her to stay a happy and innocent little girl for as long as she can. I want to give you that money. All you have to do is give me your address and you’ll have it by tomorrow night.”

Helen thought it over. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” Caroline answered firmly.

“Thank you!” Helen threw her arms around Caroline, tears in her eyes. “Kimberly and I will never forget this.”

“I believe you,” Caroline answered kindly, although she wouldn’t hug Helen back. While she had Helen close, however, she took the moment to give her some advice. “Helen... For your own safety and Kimberly’s don’t tell her you’re moving until it’s close to that date. Until you’re in the car and on the way to your new home don’t tell Kimberly the exact location. If she asks at all before then just tell her ‘far away’. Kimberly seems bright but children can have loose lips. As for you, keep working you normal shifts. Don’t let anyone know your plans to leave; just vanish. Don’t make it easy for Llyod if he tries to find you. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Then about that address...”

There were so many questions Helen wanted to ask but this wasn’t the time or the place. She decided to believe that Caroline must have been in a situation like Kimberly’s once which is why she wanted to help them.

The two women rejoined Kimberly and the twins. In Kimberly’s hands was a one hundred piece puzzle meant for children. Upon hearing from the twins that Caroline was going to buy one Kimberly decided that’s what she wanted too.

Agreeing it was a great choice, Helen took Kimberly to the register to buy it.

It wasn’t until they were at home that Caroline told the twins about her conversation with Helen. Min and Max were almost shocked speechless by Caroline willing to simply give their money away to help someone. It warmed their hearts, having no qualms about donating their hard stolen money to a good cause. After all, with how successful they were, it was only a small hit to their bank accounts.

The following evening Helen heard a knock on the door just as the sun was beginning to set. She opened it to find no one there. She hadn’t taken all that long to answer, looking up and down the sidewalk for some sort of sign as to whom it had been.

Upon finally looking down she spotted a large tan envelope with her name neatly written on it. She picked it up and took it inside, opening it to discover it was stuffed with one-hundred dollar bills and a note.

Helen, Once you and Kimberly leave Gotham I highly doubt I’ll we’ll be fortunate enough to run into you again. Good luck to the two of you. -Mary Ann, William, and Warren

Tears flowed down Helen’s face. Mary Ann had done just as she promised; she’d even given her more than what she’d asked for. She and Kimberly could leave Gotham the moment she found a suitable house and a new job.

A few weeks later Min went out to get the morning paper just as usual. How fast he returned, frantically insisting that Caroline read a specific article, was new.

She was barely awake yet, sitting with Max at the table with a cup of coffee before starting breakfast. The words on the page all blurred together for a moment, she taking a large swig of coffee and waiting for her vision to cooperate.

It was a story written about Lloyd Ventrix. Not only had he gone right back into a life of crime but had apparently attempted to abduct Kimberly by tricking her into thinking he was her invisible friend. The only reason he hadn’t been successful was because he’d been foiled by Batman. He’d been taken back to jail to serve the rest of his sentence with other charges pending.

“I see...” Caroline said calmly as she took another sip of her coffee. It seemed Helen had been very right to be worried. Although Lloyd would certainly be in jail for quite some time what he’d done weren’t exactly anything that would constitute a lifetime sentence. In fact, considering he could argue he kidnapped Kimberly since Helen wouldn’t let him see her, acting as a sympathetic dad could mean a slap on the wrist. “I’m afraid Mr. Ventrix has proven to be quite a large problem for Kimberly. One that will have to be taken care of.”

The twins grinned mischievously. They knew exactly what Caroline had in mind.

“Oh, but it’s still so early...” Caroline’s mind felt bogged down from fatigue. “I’m not sure who I should have do it... So many people owe me favors now...”

“I’ll get your black book!” Min volunteered.

“I’ll get you some more coffee,” Max offered, noticing she’d already drank it all.

“Thank you, dears,” Caroline replied as Min hurried off and Max grabbed her cup. “And people say it’s hard to find good help these days...” she said quietly with a smile to herself.

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muthary · 6 years

Text

Photosyntheticfox’s Questionnaire // PART 2

31. What do they identify as?

Genderfluid.

32. Do they have any allergies?

Nope! Nothing worth noting, except for maybe a plain response to seasonal pollens native to Vesuvia. That fades the longer they spend in Vesuvia though. Side note: they never just sneeze once, and hold their sneezes in. So when they sneeze, it sounds like tiny squeaks and their whole body jumps.

33. Do they have any other medical problems?

Just that they wear glasses! Such light eyes aren’t fit for the Vesuvian sun. They magic themselves better vision most of the time, but they definitely own frames.

34. What about mental health issues?

They show signs of depression, but not much else. It’s light after their revival because a lot of their trauma was forgotten.

35. What’s that personal hygiene regimen like?

Baths in the nighttime, sometimes midday, always with herbs, oils, and salts. They enjoy soaking in hot water and always wash their hair pretty frequently. They do shave and pluck their eyebrows, but usually on days blocked out for general self-care. Their hair takes up a lot of their time because of the braiding, plaiting, and hair jewelry. They brush their teeth and toothbrushes get replaced pretty frequently because of their heavy hand and sort of sharp teeth. They make their own soaps and body oils!

36. Favorite rock or gemstone?

Probably clear quartz for is universal use. Rose quartz as a close second because it’s pretty and helps them calm down.

37. Favorite tree?

Alder!

38. Favorite type of weather?

Quiet, crisp, misty mornings. The quiet sort where the fog is sort of thick and is good to hide in. During that sort of weather, anyone would have a hard time tracking Diorbhail down, since they’ll be the first person out on a day like that. If they could have it their way, there would be whole days like this, and they’d be the only person around for miles.

39. Least favorite type of weather?

Violent snowstorms.

40. What is their favorite season? (remember winter is summer and spring is fall)

They hated getting used to Vesuvian seasons. To keep their head from spinning, they still maintain that their favorite season is autumn, or at least when the weather is more on the cold side than the hot side, when the leaves change color, and when it’s time for Samhain.

41. How many languages could they speak before the memory loss? How many do they currently speak?

For ease, before the memory loss, they could speak “common” (the language everyone in Vesuvia seems to speak), gaeilge, and old norse. Gaeilge is only really spoken by the aos sí these days. After the memory loss, they still speak “common”, and because Asra attempted to reteach them their native languages from old books they had in those languages (as someone who could not understand a lick of any of them), Diorbhail has shaky, but sort of instinctual grasp on those other two languages. They can’t carry a conversation like they used to, but they’ll still use runes.

42. Do they sing or play any instruments?

They have a very soft, tremulous sort of voice that they used to sing old songs from their home country. Poetic Edda and old folk songs are what they’re good at. They’ve got a good voice for lullabies! As for instruments, they play an ocarina and a fiddle. The talent for the ocarina sprouted from the time they spent playing with reed whistles in the forest.

43. What do they tend to joke about?

Nothing much. Sarcasm tends to rely on other people to work. They do like to tell old folktales and laugh about them because who on Earth thought that putting on a hat backward would keep you from getting taken away by fairies!

44. After a stressful day how do they relax?

A bath, incense, and a nap until they wake up near midnight, get a snack or a drink, and fall right back asleep!

45. Guilty pleasures?

They collect bones-- Animals bones, that is. Sometimes they’ll buy them, sometimes they’ll find in the forest already cleaned, sometimes they’ll visit a rotting corpse until it’s done decomposing and they can clean the bones left behind. Their room holds their collection. They’re used to odd looks whenever it’s somehow brought up, so they don’t ever discuss it with anyone. A bit more acceptable but still something they don’t like sharing: they have stuffed animal parts they keep, like tails and a rabbit paw. For charm reasons. The coyote tail and pelt they have on their person are things they made.

46. idiosyncrasies?

They can wriggle their ears without using their hands or changing their facial expressions! They also seem to be a very disorganized person but in a mess of random stuff, they know where every single thing is, or at least it’s general location. They notice the smallest bug or animal no matter where it is, as if they can hear the little larvae beneath the dirt as they wriggle around. They have a habit of staring, sometimes at people, sometimes at barren corners, and they space out while doing this. Lastly, they’ve got no issue with gore.

47. How do they act when they first meet someone new? How quickly do they warm up to them?

At first, they’re quiet, observant, and very careful. Since they tend to have impeccable instinct, they’ll decide whether they want to continue talking to someone within the first couple minutes of speaking to them. If they decide they sense something off or annoying about someone, they’ll become terribly passive-aggressive and prickly to drive them off. If they decide someone is worth keeping around, they’ll enjoy friendly conversation, but it’ll take months or a year before they’re comfortable with a hug. Of course, there are outliers, but this is the general pattern they go through. Once they’re close enough to someone, they’re a big proponent of physical affection.

48. In what order would they prioritize Love, fame, money, power, and knowledge?

Knowledge, love, power, money, fame.

49. List four or more things they love to do

Sleep, nature walk/explore, forage in the woods, sculpt, weave, and read.

50. List four or more things they hate to do

Go to crowded places (this includes parties), argue with people, speak or sing in front of a large group of people, or organize themself according to someone else’s standards.

51. List five or more things they have said that sum up who they are

“Julian, you’ve got three seconds to get off your sorry arse before I haul you up myself.”

“I’ve grown real sick and tired of running around for others all the damn time.”

“I’m fine. Stop asking.”

“You can always choose your family.”

“Of course he’s bitter. Who would like coming back as a shriveled, hideous old goat man who’s missing an arm? Although, I suppose it isn’t much different from how he was in life.”

“Keep staring at me like that and I’ll show you how savage I can be.”

52. How do they react to (both verbal and physical) conflict?

Verbal conflict they don’t care for. They’d rather avoid it because it’s always a lot of hot air flying about. Physical conflict they’ll avoid as well, but if they must be involved, they won’t lose. They’re a bundle of brute force and stubbornness.

53. What kind of bad habits to they have?

They mumble to themself when doing everyday things and bite their nails when they’re nervous or just idle.

54. What kind of character faults do they have?

They’re stubborn and unwilling to accept help, especially for things involving their personal life. They’re also self-sacrificial and can be very rude for the sake of ending a conversation immediately, or keeping someone from getting too invested in them. In very specific situations, when they begin to see red, they don’t listen to anyone and may even lash out at anyone who may stand in their way, even if they only intend to bring Diorbhail back down to earth before they can hurt themself.

55. What’s their best trait in their opinion?

That they aren’t dependent on others. This is a misperception of themself though, since they do sometimes need others so they don’t self-destruct.

56. What do they think of their appearance?

They think they’re the most drab thing out there. If you said they were cute, they’d instantly deny and change the subject. They don’t like talking about themself. They also get a little self-conscious about their scars when someone points them out.

57. How do they interact with people in a position of authority?

Very tentatively, but they never show belly. If they deem that this person is a moron and undeserving of their authority, they’ll quickly begin acting defiantly and coldly. They never follow someone’s orders blindly.

58. Who did they look up to as a kid?

A curious fellow named Buile Suibhne. He healed their wounds when they were a child, and taught them to hunt and steal and listen to the trees.

59. How do they interact with kids?

They're quite motherly! Very patient and playful with children. They’ll tell stories and teach them new things, too, like weaving or writing or natural correspondences.

60. Do they want kids of their own someday?

They worry if they’d make a good parent, but one day they might like a child. Two at the most. They sort of flip flop between daydreaming of a distant future and being convinced they’d ruin their child so they should just die an old, lonely crone.

61. Are they religious? If so what god/goddess or gods/goddesses do they worship?

They’ve interacted personally with the entities they pay their respects too, so yes. A lot of their magic is done with specific correspondences to spirits and gods, and they celebrate sabbats in the name of their corresponding deity. They worship Celtic and Norse gods, and reference them plenty whenever they feel that those gods are near.

62. What do they think the meaning of life is?

Just to exist. There is no ultimate goal to life. It’s just to exist and be a part of nature as you would.

63. What would they want their last words to be?

“We’ll meet each other again. Take care of yourself.”

64. What do they want to do before they die?

Return home to the forest they grew up in.

65. What/how do they want to be remembered for after they die?

A kind friend. A free spirit. Aside from this, they wouldn’t mind being forgotten.

66. How do they express affection?

In small gifts, in taking others needs into account, or in physical affection like hugs and kisses to the cheek or forehead.

67. What do they normally eat for breakfast?

Nothing! But if anything, bread and juice. They like a good croissant in the morning.

68. Do they like spicy food?

Yeah! They put hot sauce over their rice. You couldn’t really get spicy food where they’re from, so Vesuvia really opened their eyes to spice. They’re immune to capsaicin now.

69. Favorite fruit and or vegetable?

Diorbhail’s favorite fruit is a banana! Again, they only got to try one after getting to Vesuvia. Their favorite vegetable is a carrot.

70. Do they like sweets?

Yeah! They’re sorta picky about what sweets they eat, though.

#apprentice:diorbhail #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana mc #fan apprentice

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thekrazykeke · 7 years

Photo

Title: Mad, Mad World

Fandom(s): Black Panther, MCU

Relationship(s): Sam Wilson & reader. T’Challa x reader.

Summary: Sometimes when you’re in a dark place, you think you’ve been buried, but truthfully, you’ve only been planted.

Warning(s): Captain America Civil War spoilers, angst

Now that I’ve gotten a taste of soulmate au’s, I’m hooked tbh. This story was inspired by what my Dimples, @lovelylittlekittn, told me about her day and also, this post. The Ryan Destiny gifs come from @kbunburyhelps like usual, seriously, check out her blog.

Naturally, if you like what you’ve read, give it a like or reblog.

Without further ado, let’s goooo!

Bzz-bzz-bzz!

You desperately wanted to ignore your cellphone, which had not stopped it’s incessant buzzing but as a light sleeper and someone who’d been suffering from insomnia for the past few days, that’s impossible. Grumbling heatedly underneath your breath, blindly reaching out for the device with your left hand, eyes still partially closed as you’re so tired...

The cellphone is knocked off the bedside dresser and lands on the plush carpet.

Letting out a frustrated huff, you lean over the side of the comfortable bed to snag the device, which much to your irritation, still hadn’t stopped buzzing. Ripping off the eye mask, you quickly entered the numerical code to the phone and answered the call.

“Hello!?”

You listened to the person on the other end, tone shifting from aggressive and angry to something more...polite. “Sir, it’s...No, I haven’t watched the news recently.” Rolling your eyes, you paused, listening to what’s said next, lips pursed. “...I see. No. It’s not an inconvenience at all, sir. I’ll be there. See you soon, sir.” Pressing the ‘End Call’ button, you lean back against the pillows, touching the silk black bonnet on your head, thankfully it hadn’t come off while you were dozing. “I better see a nice, fat bonus on that next check or a raise or somethin’. Tryna work a bitch like a modern day slave and shit...” Throwing the covers and sheets off of your body, you swung your legs over the side. “Got me fucked up. Just fucked up! He knows good and damned well it’s my day off.” Still complaining bitterly, you toss the eye mask onto the bedside dresser before sluggishly half walking, half stumbling, towards the bathroom.

Once inside, you shiver as the chill that permeates the room washes over you. Goosebumps pepper your beautiful, brown skin as you quickly strip out of your night clothes and turn the knobs for the hot and cold water for a shower, then step inside. For a few seconds, you let the warm, borderline scalding, water, sluice over you, then began to quickly go about completing your daily hygienic routine.

After showering, brushing your teeth, and toweling dry, you re-enter the bedroom, towel wrapped around your waist as you opened the closet door. You’re on a timed schedule, so you shove aside the pre-planned weekend outfits for the more conventional and convenient work uniform; a pretty white blouse, black dress pants and comfortable dress shoes. Sighing near silently, you mentally wave farewell to those grand plans of yours. Placing the uniform over the back of a chair, you sit down on the bed again after grabbing some necessary items to complete the morning routine. Then when you’ve moisturized, put on some deodorant and slipped into the uniform, you run a hand down the front of your outfit, smoothing away any imaginary wrinkles.

‘Yaaas, I look amazing, as always.’ From the tips of your hair to the soles of your feet, you were that boss bitch and endeavored to show it off everyday of your life. Cellphone buzzing again, you rolled your eyes as you snagged your purse and car keys, closing the bedroom door on the way out.

Tapping the code to unlock the device, you absently admitted that while you loved your job, you weren’t going to hop, skip, and jump. The link that’d been sent to your phone gave details about the Winter Soldier having blown up a building in Vienna, several people had been injured, even more dead, among them being the late King of Wakanda, T’Chaka.

You picked up the pace.

“This is Y/N Wilson’s desk. Excellent at her job, she demands that same thoroughness of her subordinates. We probably wouldn’t have even caught actual footage of the Soldier without one of her people being on the late shift.” Ross stated, leaning against the mahogany desk.

“You’ve been singing her praises since we got here.” Sam pointed out, ignoring how Steve told him to relax wordlessly. “I’m just saying, the curiosity is killing me.”

“It’s the same for me, actually.” he paused. “Is Wilson here or not, Agent Ross?” Steve asked, trying to keep the accusing note out of his voice. The agent opened his mouth, about to bluster some more, when the door opened.

“Present and accounted for.”

Sam maintained his professional countenance but only just barely.

Steve wasn’t faring any better.

You ignored them both, merely swept your gaze to your boss, “Some files needed my signature, a few boxes with paper files needed updating to digital form as well. Apologies for my tardiness.” That had always been your go-to excuse and Ross rolled with it, nodding along, though you were sure you’d be reamed out later. Snapping your fingers together, you pointed at Steve, “Gotta admit, I love the way you work, big fella.”

A little crease formed as his brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“The way you and Barnes were just throwing the German Special Forces around like ragdolls. Whew! Jee-sus. Talk about strong. My favorite part is when Barnes picked up a cement block and threw it into the agent’s chest. I hear that poor shmuck’s still in surgery.”

Realization dawned on Sam’s face and he sighed, “Body cams.”

“Bucky was anxious. He didn’t mean...I didn’t mean...”

“To hurt anyone?” Brows raising, you smiled blandly. “Yes, I can understand that. You probably didn’t even think twice except for eliminating the threat to your other half.”

In every textbook, in all the tragic romances of all time, the love between Captain America and Sgt. Barnes continued to sell the most, besides Romeo and Juliet. Teachers loved to use their SoulBond as an example of what true love should look like. Personally you thought it was bullshit, but hey, what did you know?

“However, it’s a flimsy defense that will get torn to shreds in court, so I’d suggest getting a damn good lawyer and not doing anything else to escalate this shitty situation. Your reputation as the revered all American national hero grants you some leeway, Barnes doesn’t have that luxury. So just sit back and let us do our job. Do you understand?” Steve didn’t reply and you frown. “I said, do you understand?”

Sam spoke up. “Hey. Ease up, alright?”

You gave him the evil eye. “Don’t worry. You and I, we’ve got a lot to discuss too.” He grimaced and you glanced back at the silent super soldier. “I just want to ensure that we’re all on the same page.”

Steve nodded, fist propped underneath his chin. “We’re on the same page.”

Nodding sharply to Ross and Rogers, you crook your fingers, beckoning Sam to follow as you turn, opening the door to leave, “Let’s talk in private.”

Private turned out to be a small, empty conference room that doubled as storage space. You’d barely closed and locked the door before Sam was blowing up at you. “What the hell was up with that interrogation in there? The way you talked to Cap, like you didn’t even know him? Like I haven’t invited him to Ma’s for dinner with the rest of the family?”

“Let me see if I have this straight. You’re chastising me for doing my job?” You raised your eyebrows, mouth pulled into an unamused smile. “Boy, check yaself. Don’t make me get out of character up in here, Sammy.”

His shoulders raised defensively. “Don’t call me that stupid nickname!”

“I’m not going to cut corners for Steve because you’re friends with him. Hell, I refuse to cut corners with you and you’re,” Voice lowering, even though the door is closed and locked, “My brother.” Tone raising back to a normal level, you continue on to say, “As it is, the Avengers have fallen out of public favor ever since the Ultron debacle and what happened in Sokovia. Then what happened in Lagos?” You snorted derisively. “Let’s just say that y’all skatin’ on some very thin ice. Keep following after Steve and someone is gonna end up clipping your wings.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, his disapproving frown would have stung any other time, but you couldn’t, wouldn’t, be swayed. “So, from your tone, I can assume that you’re pro-Accords.”

“The Accords, yeah. The politics, not exactly. I also think that things should be made harder for villains, and...” Sam had turned away from you and was about to walk out the door. “Is you forreal right now? You ‘bout to walk out and we ain’t done talking?”

He glanced back at you briefly. “It’s better I walk away now before I say something hurtful.”

“Sammy...” he shook his head, half out the door. “Sam.” You made an aborted move to follow but the way he gently closed the door was telling. Sam wasn’t one for dramatic or explosive fits of anger.

He was a pro at silently expressed disappointment.

Sucking in a fortifying breath, you fanned your face, blinking back sudden tears. ‘This is your workplace, damn it. Get it together.’ Counting to thirty, you manage to mentally get yourself in check, or at least enough to fake it to your colleagues if necessary. Straightening your spine, you exit the conference room, taking a turn to the left, only to bump into someone. When you glance up, it’s...

“I am so sorry! Oh, your coffee. Sorry again.” You’d accidentally knocked his coffee out of his hand. “Let me get you another.”

He held his hands up in a ‘calm down’ gesture. “That is unnecessary. It is fine.” The son of the late Wakandan king, T’Challa, shrugged. “In truth, it was horrible and I was looking for the excuse to throw it away.”

You did a double take. “Wait, what?” He adopted a neutral expression. “What?” Feeling onto a hunch, you cautiously stated, “The coffee’s great here.”

“I imagine that sewer water would be far more appetizing.”

That startled a laugh out of you, even as realization slowly dawned. Pulse spiking with sudden anxiety, it’s hard to maintain eye contact now. Fingers brushed underneath your chin, encouraging you to look up and reluctantly, you obeyed.

“Please. Don’t look away from me.”

Everything is suddenly too much, too quickly, too intense. “I...I can’t do this.” You feel on the verge of a panic attack as you stumble away from the royal. Shaking your head, mumbling under your breath, you do the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life.

You walk away from your soulmate. (He’s royalty! He’s minemineminemine. Oh God, this is so fucked up. Soulmates can’t lie to each other, which means--)

And he lets you.

#mcu #t'challa #mcu imagine #t'challa imagine #black panther #t'challa x reader #black reader #marvel #t'challa x black reader #marvel imagine #thekrazykeke #pretty boys and girls queue

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altonajitzu · 7 years

Text

On Taking Care of A Tzuyu

Before we start, please accept my shortcomings that will be present throughout the narration. Being a really single writer, I royally suck at describing clothes. Also, my knowledge about Korean (or lack thereof) forced me to tell everything language-related content as if they were speaking English, and using alphabetical letters. And no, English is not my first language either, so I apologize for the crappy grammar as well.

The story will, I project, be written in a third-person omniscient POV, but there will be a lot of Jihyo's.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twice.

_________________

“Shoot…. And it’s my favorite top too.”

Jihyo, the proud leader of TWICE, the motherly figure of everyone else, winced as she looked down on the state of her attire in dismay. For this occasion only, one where she could have the whole entire day to herself, Jihyo had donned a dark pink tank top over a plain white shirt. (AN: imagine her outfit in Likey). While the clothing itself had little to flaunt, it really complimented the singer’s figures- especially her chest, the only area that stayed proudly voluptuous after the hard-earned weight loss.

At any rate, she wasn’t able to enjoy the fabulous feeling- she was soaking wet and irritated, all thanks to the rain suddenly pouring down as she was leisurely sightseeing in the neighborhood park. To add insult to injury, she apparently stepped into some kind of grovel in the hurry for shelter; now every step she took felt gritty, sandy, and occasionally painful when a particularly pointy grain scrapped against her skin. Long story short, she felt pathetic.

That did not mean though, that she looked the way she felt. With the wet T-shirt and the tank top now drenched and sticking to her body, making her look a lot more sensual than her usual cheerful. Normally, such illegally erotic images could seriously threaten her safety should she be alone; lucky for her, no pervert would bother venturing around the playhouse in the middle of a random park in the middle of the rain. Dealing with the usual catcalls on the streets was irritating enough.

Speaking of catcalls… Cats were cute. Jihyo loved cats a lot. Closing her eyes, she could just imagine having one bundled in her arms, their fluffy fur tickling her arms, their meows soothing her ears like…

“Meowrghhghrgh.”

Jihyo’s head snapped up. That imaginary meow was strangely realistic, not to mention highly un-dreamy. Wasn’t it supposed to be, like, more melodious and adorable?

“Meowwwwwww.”

Yes, that’s more like it, albeit still too hoarse. Jihyo nodded to herself in satisfaction, before bolting up and looking around. That’s definitely not her imagination anymore… There was undoubtedly a cat around, and it did not sound healthy.

“Meow? Meow!!” Jihyo stood up and slowly advanced to where she thought the sound came from, no longer caring about the rain. Her imitation of the cat was poor and highly unnecessary, but she needed another meow to pinpoint the location and had no other idea.

After a few more pathetic exchange of meows, the leader of TWICE finally found her target: A white cat lying underneath a swing seat nearby, looking dirty and exhausted.

“Oh god, you poor thing.” Jihyo gasped in worry and gingerly picked said cat up. It did not react much; save for a slight jolt upon contact, the half-dead cat was too tired to put up a fight. Its head was the only thing active; the cat stared at her with apprehension.

No longer caring about the rain, Jihyo ran as fast as her legs could take her back home.

_______

“Jihyo-unnie, you’re back! Man, you’re soaking wet aren’t ya?” Greeted Dahyun, the person sitting nearest to the front door. She tilted her head in confusion as Jihyo bolted in frantically. “Unnie, what are you…”

“Guys! This little thing needs help!” As all members present stared in shock, their leader practically slid into the living room, holding up something white and dirty.

“Jihyo, you take care of the floor next time. I just finished cleaning…” Nayeon’s irritation dissipated quickly when she saw what her dongsaeng brought in. “Oh my god, it’s a cat! What happened to it?”

“A cat?” That got the attention of the whole room, even Momo who was napping soundly. They all gathered around the cat as Jihyo put it down a makeshift bed, or Chaeyoung’s hat. Being surrounded caused the cat to be more restless, it frantically looked around everyone fearfully, and released a weak hiss.

“Hey! That’s my…”

“Hush, little Chaeyoung.” Jeongyeon interrupted her complaint. Chaeyoung pouted. “Quick, someone grab something to eat from the fridge. Some milk too. And a towel. And a hairdryer. And spread out girls, you’re scaring it.” The stern order from the short-haired girl got everyone scrambling for the objectives. Momo, who was still blurry from sleep, was cleanly knocked back to her bundle of pillows by Mina, who was bolting towards the kitchen.

“Ah, what the hell.” Said Momo, who decided against sitting up, and promptly closed her eyes again.

After a few chaotic moments, involving a really loud crash and a limping Sana, the girls finally gathered what they needed. After a few more spiteful moments when they fought for who got to feed and dry the cat, it was finally clean and healthy again. As soon as it could stand up normally, the cat ran under the sofa.

“… Well, that was ungrateful of him.” Nayeon commented bluntly. They were now having a mini staring contest with the cat, with most TWICE members lying on the stomach and staring into the dark space beneath the sofa. It was almost completely dark, save for the pair of marble blue eyes staring back at them.

“You can’t blame him unnie, all cats will do this when they are scared.” Jihyo, finally calmed down, defended the cat. “It’s not like we own him.” Nayeon shrugged, knowing her leader was right.

“So… what do we do now?” Sana asked sitting up. She then laughed at how everyone was sprawling on the living room, including an oblivious Momo who was asleep, also on her stomach.

“Leave him be for now. We should discuss what to do with him.” Said Jihyo, to which everyone agreed. They all got up from their compromising position and found a comfortable spot to sit, except Jihyo herself who stayed motionless, her eyes never leaving the abandoned cat.

“… Anyway.” Dahyun coughed. “I don’t like cats. Or dogs. Or any animals that move a lot, like Sana-unnie. All they do is run around and mess up everything, like Sana-unnie.” This ilicited a snicker from the others. “Seriously! If we’re keeping it, I want it kept away from me and Chaeyoung’s room.”

Only one part of what she said was heard by Momo. “We’re keeping it?” She perked up from the pile of pillows. “We’re keeping it! Yay!” The Japanese girl cheered loudly.

“You’re not even listening, Momo-unnie!”

“Awwww, but I wanna play with…” Chaeyoung complained.

“Hush, little Chaeyoung.” This resulted in Chaeyoung tackling Dahyun down for a battle of tickles.

Watching on in amusement, Sana directed the talk back to the main topic.

“I like to keep it too. If anything, just to tick off Dahyun. I helped you all the way back on the mountains, and you still treat me like that.” Sana referred back to their trip to Switzerland one week ago.

“Me sorry!” Dahyun did an aegyo.

“I want to keep him too!” Gurgled Nayeon, drinking the milk.

“Me as well!” Mina chimed in.

“You take care of the litter then Mina-unnie.”

“No way!”

As the members argued about who had to take up hygiene duty, Jihyo was slowly luring the cat to her.

“Here, here. Good kitty.” With some miracle, the cat actually moved out of its hiding place. It moved apprehensively, but steadily towards Jihyo’s outstretched hands. She waited with the patience of a saint, when it finally followed her hand out of the couch and into the bright light. The leader slowly lifted the cat up and cradled it in her arms tenderly, lest it got frightened and scamper away.

“Awww… kawaii…” Sana cooed. “It’s all white! Only the top of the head is black. Certainly looks like hair to me.”

“So… what should we call him?” Jihyo asked, knowing everyone is looking at the animal she was holding. With its fur dry and cleaned of dirt, the cat was lovely. While nowhere near fluffy looking as they imagined, it actually maintained a graceful look despite being malnourished.

“… Let’s call him Dog.”

“Dahyun, what the hell? Also, it’s not a he. It��s a she, I just checked it.”

“What? It’s fun.” As Sana and Dahyun got into yet another argument, Jeongyeon voiced her opinion.

“I think you should pick the name, Jihyo. It does seem quite attached to you already.” Said the short-haired girl.

“So what are we keeping again?” Asked Momo, whom – up to this point – no one could tell if she understood anything.

“A cat, Momo-unnie. Jihyo-unnie found a cat, and we’re keeping it.” Explained Chaeyoung patiently. “And because you were asleep the entire time, it drank all your milk.” She winked at Nayeon, who silently mouthed a ‘Thank you’ behind Momo’s back.

“What!!!!!!!!!”

Amidst the commotion, Jihyo stayed silent. She finally moved take off her bracelet and put it around the cat’s neck. It stared at her in confusion, but not resisting. The leader smiled fondly at this.

“I’ll name her… Tzuyu.”

#twice #jihyo #tzuyu #fanfiction #jitzu #momo #sana #mina #chaeyoung #jeongyeon #nayeon #dahyun

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sp4c3-0ddity · 7 years

Note

98 and 99 for plance? Please?

Alright, here we go, Anon. Two drabbles for the price of one. Enjoy!!

(99) Be careful

Nothing feels right to Pidge.

Of course, nothing has felt right since the Kerberos mission, since she lost both father and brother at once. But lately, nothing feels even less right than usual, which is saying something.

First, Pidge is launched into space without warning, suffering the same fate as her missing family - at least from her mother’s perspective. Then she’s enlisted in a universe-spanning war - a war that’s lasted ten thousand years - against her will.

So Pidge hopes that this time her team can forgive her for leaving. She’ll come back, she tells herself, and it won’t be alone. But this time, she’ll be smarter about it.

Pidge packs a bag, stuffed with dehydrated military rations and pouches of water and emergency medical supplies and that fancy Altean traveling soap that makes hygiene easier to maintain without a real bathroom. Her computer is tucked in carefully, wrapped with a spare change of clothes for cushioning.

She waits until evening, when the only ones she has to dodge are the insomniacs like Shiro and Allura. The mice she thinks she can handle with the simple distraction of food goo ‘accidentally’ spilled on the floor. She doesn’t bother shutting down the security cameras, though; by the time Coran winds through the footage, she’ll already be gone.

Quietly, Pidge slides open her bedroom door. She’s wearing her armor, bag slung over her shoulder. Her footsteps sound too loud to her own ears, echoing eerily through the empty hallways. Never before has the Castle felt so tense, so haunted, not even when the AI of Allura’s father went haywire.

Pidge considers all the variables as she treads to the Green Lion’s hangar. If Hunk is awake, he’ll be in the kitchen, trying to bake his anxiety into a pie. Allura would either be pacing the halls around her room or into the bridge, where she and Coran might parse records or discuss Voltron’s next plan of attack - or diplomacy. Keith, the most predictable, would lock himself on the training deck. Shiro, perhaps the least predictable, could be doing anything from wandering the halls to meditating quietly in his bedroom. And Lance, well, he won’t be a problem, Pidge tells herself; Lance takes the importance of at least six hours of sleep per night to heart more than anyone else.

The Green Lion purrs at her when she walks into the hangar on silent feet. Pidge smiles as her presence envelops her mind in a warm, comforting blanket, like sunshine in the spring. She glances once more behind her, making sure she wasn’t followed, by human or mouse or alien. She exhales and faces her Lion, who happily lowers her jaw.

“Pidge.”

Pidge jumps, dropping her bag in surprise. She reflexively summons her bayard and spins towards the voice, but relaxes when she sees it’s only Lance, of all people, approaching her from behind the Green Lion’s massive paw.

He looks exhausted, eyelids drooping and skin wan. His hair is ruffled from sleep, and he’s still dressed, though without his jacket for once.

“What’re you doing here?” Pidge demands, lowering her bayard.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Lance crosses his arms, peering down at her with the slightest hint of a smile. But it disappears quickly. “You’re going after your brother now, aren’t you?”

Pidge blinks. “How many nights have you slept here?” Wouldn’t she have noticed, if he was sleeping in her Lion’s hangar? She’s pulled many an all-nighter working here.

Lance chuckles, fingers running through his hair. “Just answer the question, Pidge.”

Pidge grabs her bag off the floor and admits, “Yes. I know where he is now, unlike last time, so yes.”

She half-expects him to argue, to shout her down like Keith did last time she almost left, and her chest clenches with shame at the thought.

Instead, she sees something like understanding - like sympathy - in his blue eyes, and he smiles mournfully. “Okay,” he says. “Just…” He sighs, and before she can say anything else, he wraps her into a hug.

Pidge shivers when she feels his warm breath on her cheek.

“Be careful, Pidge,” he says, voice right by her ear.

“I will be,” she promises, returning his embrace. “I’ll come back, and I’ll bring my brother back with me.”

Lance steps away from her, and glances at her Lion. “You keep her safe, alright?” he says.

To her amazement, Green growls an affirmation, her presence in Pidge’s head tinged with affection and protectiveness.

Without another word, Pidge enters the Lion, but not without looking back over her shoulder at Lance, who again stands facing her with crossed arms. He’s not smiling, exactly, but there’s still something warm in his gaze as he looks at her.

There’s worry there too, she thinks.

“I’ll be fine,” Pidge tells them, though by now she sits in the pilot’s chair, and only Green can hear her.

(98) Take a deep breath (tw for mentions of drowning)

Panic tastes like iron, or copper, or zinc. Panic tastes like a bitten tongue, warm blood filling her mouth, a scream swallowed before it can be realized, when Pidge sees the large crack rending the visor on Lance’s helmet.

The chamber still steadily fills with water from the drains near the ceiling, and Pidge still curses herself for allowing them to be trapped underground in a room near to flooding. And the worst part is that Pidge knows that if she opens the chamber’s only door, a torrent will engulf them, and they’ll be swept under a current that much faster.

Unlike Pidge, Lance looks calm, despite the crack in his helmet. In fact, she won’t at all be surprised if he tries to make a joke of this, not while Pidge struggles to think of an option that isn’t drown when our life support runs out.

The water is already level with Pidge’s waist, or mid-thigh for Lance, and it gets higher with every tic she fights back her panic.

“I’ve always wanted to swim with the fishes,” Lance observes.

Pidge could strangle him before he drowns. “Now isn’t the time for gallows humor, Lance,” she says testily, eyes scanning the walls for any sign of a way out.

“Ah, another way to die of asphyxiation,” says Lance, elbowing her in the side.

“And if you don’t stop, you’ll suffer another,” Pidge promises, though without any bite.

Lance only shrugs, but he wanders around the small room, sloshing water around with every step. Pidge can’t tell what he’s doing, but she’s so focused on the ceiling that she hardly cares.

“Pidge!”

She spins around to face Lance, and from the bemusement on his face and the way he shouted her name, she suspects he might’ve tried to get her attention more than once. “What?” she says.

“I think I found our way out,” Lance says. He bends down and reaches under the surface for something in the wall. “I found a current,” he explains, “a way the water’s getting out. Still flowing in faster than it’s flowing out though…” He scowls, tongue poking out in concentration.

Pidge might think he looks cute like that, if she wasn’t too busy trying not to panic. But his words fill her with hope, and she joins him, ignoring that the water is now just above her navel.

“There’s a grate,” says Lance. “You need to cut it open with your bayard or something.”

Pidge nods and summons her bayard, activating it into the electrified grapple. She wills it into the shape of a blade instead, and after making sure her helmet is sealed, she dunks her head underwater.

It takes a few tics to adjust to the distortion of light underwater, the way everything looks bigger and closer and blurrier suddenly, but she sees the grate Lance mentioned, a wide metal frame that maybe both of them can fit through if they swim through one at a time.

But Lance’s visor is still cracked.

Pidge shakes that from her mind. One problem at a time. She uses her bayard to slice the grate’s cover away in four smooth cuts, then pries it out. She surfaces and tosses the grate away to the other end of the room.

“Okay,” she tells Lance, dismissing her bayard. “But…”

“My helmet?” Lance guesses, tapping the visor. Now, he finally starts to look worried.

At least until he jokes, “Good thing I have the lung capacity of a dolphin.”

Pidge, unimpressed, scowls at him. “Swap helmets with me,” she suggests, reaching for the bottom of hers.

“What? No way!” Lance says, waving his hands. “Absolutely quiznaking not.”

“Why not?” Pidge demands.

“Hello?” Lance says, gesturing to himself. “Guardian Spirit of Water here!”

“That’s the Blue Lion, you idiot!” Pidge retorts. She takes off her helmet and shoves it at his chest.

He pushes it back. “I have bigger lungs than you!”

“Put it on.”

“No.”

They play reverse keep-away with her helmet for another few precious tics, at which point the water level is at Pidge’s chest.

“Look, we don’t have time for this,” Lance says, shoving her helmet back at her. “So I’ll just…it’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?” Pidge asks, glaring at him, though she doesn’t push the helmet back at him.

Lance knocks on the side of his helmet. “I can barely feel a leak of air.”

Pidge stares at him, completely bewildered and trying very hard not to panic. “Lance, the water in there is rushing at a higher pressure than the air in this room!” She tosses her hands up, exasperated. “Your visor is compromised, so you really think it’ll be able to withstand–”

“Yes,” Lance says, voice firm and brooking no disagreement. “And if it doesn’t, then I’m sure you’ll have something to say to the princess when you get back.”

They exchange a glance, Pidge worried and Lance obstinate in his decision.

“This isn’t funny,” says Pidge, reaching up to rub her face.

“I know,” Lance agrees. He takes her helmet from her arms, and for one relieved, heart-stopping moment, she thinks he’s about to take off his and put hers on…

…except he carefully arranges it on her head instead.

“Take a deep breath,” he says, a hint of teasing in his strained voice.

“I should be the one telling you that,” Pidge grumbles.

Grumbling is all she has, she thinks.

“You go first,” Lance says, “so I don’t block your way in case I–”

“That won’t happen,” Pidge insists.

“You’re right,” he says, smiling. “You’re always right.”

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #also these two are totally unrelated #though they're both in canonverse #and the first includes speculation about season 4 #voltron #i hope you like them!!#first is about 800 words and the second is about 900 #also is this anything like what you had in mind or nah #Anonymous #qna #reem writes fic

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