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absolutepokemontrash · 4 years ago

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MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Underground Tomb edition!)

Hello friends and degenerate sinners, this is basically a mini headcanon set for Luci’s kid!MC about how the incident with Luke and the Grimoire would go down in this AU to tide you all over until Part 3 comes out! Enjoy!

It was a normal night in the good ol’ HOL... Lucifer was doing paperwork at an ungodly hour of the night, Beel was in the kitchen, and Mammon was screaming and running for dear life. Ah... sweet normalcy.

The custard incident remained the same, MC got force-fed custard and Beel threw a truly fantastic hunger tantrum that culminated in the wall connecting to MC’s room collapsing.

Cue lecture from Luci-father.

“I am very disappointed in you three.” Lucifer rubbed his temples as MC, Beel, and Mammon awkwardly stood in his room. Mammon of course, was trying to avoid the death glares MC was giving him. Poor bastard.

“Especially you two, MC and Beel.”

“Whuh?!” Mammon sputtered. “What about me?!”

“I expect this from you. These two on the other hand,” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at MC who was awkwardly trying to suppress a laugh at Mammon’s aghast expression. “Should know not to act like this.”

“We’re *snrk* sorry, father,” MC paused to try and muscle through a giggle. “It won’t happen again.”

“He ate my custard...” Beel pouted.

“So, MC won’t be able to use their room anymore due to the wall... collapsing.” Lucifer gave Beel a pointed glare.

Mammon smirked, and if he were sitting on a couch, we would have leaned back and kicked his feet up. “Well, obviously since I’m a kind and generous soul I’ll open up my room for poor MC to stay in. My babysittin’ rates are quite high though-”

“BABYSITTING?!” MC snarled, giving Mammon a death glare that could probably kill lesser demons.

Lucifer felt a twinge of pride upon seeing his child give someone his signature bone-chilling glare, if he weren’t supposed to be disappointed he would have given MC a pat on the head and let them hang Mammon from the ceiling.

“Uh- heh- MC, I’m your favourite uncle! Me babysittin’ ya should be an honour!” Mammon was sweating bullets and desperately looking to Beel for help.

“Levi is rapidly approaching favourite uncle status.” MC crossed their arms and huffed.

“Levi?! Wait- does that mean I was your favourite-”

Lucifer was almost tempted to stick MC in Mammon’s room just to have MC punish Mammon so he could get some sleep, tragically, his common sense won out. “MC will be staying with Beel. He has an extra bed in his room after all.”

MC looked over at Beel and smiled. “Could be worse, right? I’ll replace the custard.”

Beel’s smile upon hearing the last part could have lit up the entire Devildom. What a sweetie.

MC still chilled in Beel’s room. They finally got to ask more questions about Belphie, and Beel is more inclined to share what’s up because MC is his big bro’s kid after all!

Because of MC’s half demon-ness, they hadn’t met Belphie at that point in the story unlike in canon. They were just curious about their missing uncle. They ALSO already knew what Belphie looks like because Lucifer gave them an in depth tour of everything and he pointed out all the portraits.

MC, being the sadistic sweetheart they are, went out and bought themselves and Beel replacement custard. MC made sure to eat it right in front of Mammon.

But my oh my, who was texting them? *gasp!* Luke!

MC obviously let their little angel buddy into the house (Luke did not know about MC’s parental situation at that point, keep that in mind). Luke was fun to tease a little after all! And it was nice to have another kid around, but MC would never admit it.

Since MC had literally no reason to be afraid of their dear old dad, they went right up to him and asked him if Luke could stay over. No fear.

“Father?” MC leaned on the doorway to the backyard, Lucifer was playing fetch with Cerberus. MC had never seen someone play fetch so robotically.

“Yes, MC?” Cerberus’ middle head dropped a slobber covered squeaky toy into Lucifer’s gloved hand, the other two heads snapped at the middle one.

“Can I have a friend over?” MC asked, trotting over to give Cerberus some pets. On the first day the dog had tried to eat them, but after giving him some much tastier bacon treats, Cerberus was sweet as pie. Murderous and dangerous pie, that is.

“Do I know this friend?”

“Yes, it’s Luke. Can he stay over?”

Lucifer wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. “Cerberus is right here, you have access to a dog. Why on earth would you bring the chihuahua over?”

MC snorted and gave Cerberus’ right head some scratches behind the ears. “He’s not a chihuahua all the time, come on, it’s for the good of the exchange program!”

The two had a stare down for a little while, and to his absolute horror, Lucifer felt his resolve cracking. This child of his was too adorable for their own good. “Fine, MC.”

“Yes!” MC fist pumped as Cerberus’ middle and left heads tried to join in on the ear scritches.

“But note,” Lucifer continued. “I expect a full report to give to Lord Diavolo on this whole experience.”

MC frowned and debated sticking their tongue out at their father, they decided against it. “A paper? On a sleepover? Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Lucifer gave MC a flick on the nose. “Like you said, it has to do with the exchange program. Now go make sure the chihuahua doesn’t die and leave you with a mess to clean up.”

The look of complete terror Luke gave MC when they told him that Lucifer said he could stay over was completely worth the paper they were going to have to write.

“What?! You weren’t supposed to tell him I’m here!”

“He said you could stay.”

“Why?! Oh no... did he demand your soul as payment or something?! MC! You shouldn’t have put yourself in that nasty demon’s debt! Don’t worry, I’ll get your soul back somehow.”

MC should have been offended... but they weren’t. I mean, could you stay mad at Luke when he just offered to fight arguably the second most powerful demon in the Devildom to get your soul back?

Now that Luke’s presence in the house was known to everyone, the challenge was no longer keeping Luke hidden, it was making sure Luke didn’t say anything that would get him killed and making sure none of the demon bros made Luke cry.

Mammon was the main culprit of the teasing because Lucifer actually had better things to do. And he had a (totally not a) date with Diavolo so he’d be back late and wouldn’t be home to tease the chihuahua.

Mammon’s status as favourite uncle was hanging by a thread by the end of the first day.

Asmo thought Luke was positively adorable and also very annoying. He offered to paint MC and Luke’s nails. Luke declined, but MC was all for it. (Their cuticles were a MESS by the way, they needed the manicure.)

Luke’s nails were painted gold to match the gold on his outfit! Asmo was quite proud of his work, and was very offended when he was not allowed to try and braid Luke’s hair.

“It looks so soft!”

“You’re not allowed to touch my hair, demon!”

Satan still disliked MC on the basis that they were just a mini-Lucifer and hung out in his room or the library to avoid them and Luke.

It was incredibly annoying when Luke and MC burst into the library to look for cookbooks and treat recipes after Luke told MC about his baking endeavours. Satan debated ordering a pair of ear plugs on Akuzon...

Or perhaps a laser gun...

Both would make him stop hearing the children’s grating voices.

“You two, be quiet.”

“We haven’t spoken since we got in here...”

“You’re breathing too loud.”

Beel remained the only brother who was actually decent to Luke, they all played Go Fish in Beel’s room.

Levi was in his room playing his new video game just like in canon, but he could hear Luke and MC running around outside his room.

He was fully prepared to do that introvert thing where you stay in your room until you hear someone say goodbye to the guest.

Levi’s eyes were glued to his computer screen, just eight more skeleton monsters to kill and he’d get the achievement! His attention crumbled the moment he heard the dreaded sound of...

Guests...

“Hey MC! Whose room is this?”

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall caused Levi to jump in his seat. Oh no... his worst fears were realized! There was another person in the house!

“That’s Asmodeus’ room. Luke you shouldn’t go around opening everyone’s doors-”

The sound of another door opening and shutting made Levi pause his game and look at Henry 2.0 for help. Maybe if he jumped into the tank and wrapped himself in his tail he’d camouflage into his surroundings...

BAM!

AAAAA! Not enough time! The guest was drawing nearer... he was going to have to... *barf*... SOCIALIZE!

“How about this room?”

Levi braced himself for the incoming social contact... Fs in the chat everyone...

“We shouldn’t bother Levi, let’s do something else.”

HAJEKDJSJSJSJD- BEEL! BEEL JUST SAVED LEVI’S LIFE!

The poor third born slumped back in his seat, the awfulness of socialization avoided. He uh... hadn’t actually left his room in maybe three days... maybe he should actually go outside... enjoy the nonexistent sunlight, y’know?

...nah. Levi went back to his game.

Since the kitchen was broken, Beel, MC, and Luke went out and get AkuDonald’s. They were all out of the toy that Luke and MC wanted so that trip was a disaster! A disaster I say!

Just the image of Beel happily chomping on his eighth burger while Luke and MC angrily pick at their fries makes me want to laugh.

Now the question you’re all waiting for, did Lucifer try and kill Luke and Beel and then MC for trying to take the Grimoire?

N O

“Whose room is behind that door?” Luke pointed to the door to the attic staircase.

MC shrugged and hit their knuckles against the door a few times. “It’s just the door to the attic. My uh- Lucifer said not to go up there because it’s just full of old junk.”

Normally MC would scoff at the idea of being told what not to do and do it out of spite, but MC was a child, and like most children, they hated scary attics. They hadn’t even attempted to open the door in the month they had lived in the house.

“Hm, maybe he’s hiding something...” Luke puffed out his cheeks and knocked on the door. When met with no answer, Luke turned the doorknob. The door creaked open, and the two peeked inside.

A tall spiral staircase greeted them as they tentatively stepped inside. Not so-good Lord, the room was freezing, but it didn’t seem to bother Luke as he walked further into the room.

“What do you think’s up there?” Luke asked, craning his neck to try and get a look at what could be at the top of the stairs.

MC shuddered and crossed their arms. “Like Lucifer said, junk. Nothing important.”

There was a tingling feeling at the base of MC’s neck, their hand flew to the spot only to find nothing, but the uneasiness didn’t cease. Something was very... very off. A shudder creeped up their spine as Luke stepped closer to the staircase.

“Come on,” Luke tutted, placing a hand on the railing. “Demons are known liars!”

Luke was quite difficult to be friends with sometimes, MC had to admit.

With every step Luke took up the stairs, the sense of dread brewing in MC’s gut grew, but they remained rooted to the spot, it was almost like something was physically stopping them from getting closer to those stairs.

Luke stopped on the sixth step and craned his neck to look up again. “Hello?” He called out.

His little voice echoed up the staircase, he was met with no reply for a moment, until a massive shudder wracked both his and MC’s spines.

“Hello.” A voice replied.

Quick as lightning MC dove forward, taking three steps up the stairs despite what felt like electric shocks stabbing into their skin, and yanked Luke back down the stairs and out the door, closing it behind them. MC heard a lazy, carefree chuckle reverberate through their head, and a message that only MC could hear.

“Leaving so soon, Lucifer?”

...

Spooky right?

Anyway- back to Luke and MC being idiots together.

They headed back to Beel’s room to watch some Devildom kid shows, I assume Tom and Jerry just played on repeat.

Luke explained the reason he ran away from Purgatory Hall, and MC legitimately debated whether or not they should throw Luke out of the nearest window for all the jabs he was taking at demons.

“Simeon was going to go out for tea with Diavolo! He even said that I could ask Barbatos to instruct me on the finer points of baking!”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“They’re demons, MC! Simeon and I are angels from the Celestial Realm! We shouldn’t be consorting with demons.”

Once again, bless Beel and his lack of murderous rage when it came to anything other than food.

“MC, Lucifer would be upset if you broke a window.”

“What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing Luke, nothing you need to worry about.”

Don’t worry, no angels were harmed during the visit.

On day two of the extended sleepover, Luke and MC decided to go running around the house again.

“And this is the basement.” MC put their hands on their hips and kissed their teeth as they looked around the Underground tomb. “Perfectly creepy.”

Luke shuddered. “Is this house nothing but one creepy room after another..?”

MC smiled and stuck out their tongue. Their fear of the attic did not extend to the underground tomb. Not that they were actually afraid of the attic or anything...

“Why? You scared some big monster is gonna getcha?” MC teased.

“No!” Luke gasped. “I’m not scared!”

MC began to walk backwards into the darker depths of the tomb, their teasing tone echoing off of the walls. “Then come on! Don’t be chicken!”

Luke looked back and forth from the door out of there, to the rapidly disappearing figure of MC, he rushed after MC.

“I’m not scared of some dark basement.” Luke huffed.

“Why not~?” MC snickered. “There could be ghosts down here... tortured souls of those who were damned to Hell for all eternity~!”

MC swiped Luke’s hat and placed it on their head, Luke jumped at the sudden contact and began to try and get the hat back from MC.

“Stop trying to scare me!” Luke yapped, MC laughed and began to jog deeper into the tomb.

“Maybe there’s a monster that eats chihuahuas down here too! Who knows!” MC twirled the hat with their fingers and ran a little faster when Luke ran after them.

“I AM NOT A CHIHUAHUA!”

Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best course of action to tease and scare one’s friend instead of telling them what they said earlier was mean, but MC wasn’t the best at decision making.

When MC reached a dead end, they stopped and looked around, Luke crashed right into them. He managed to swipe his hat back from a now disinterested MC.

MC’s gaze landed on a book being held up by a statue, they padded over and looked up at it.

“Luke, do you know what that is?” MC asked, turning to look at their now very miffed friend.

“The... book? I don’t know.”

Truthfully, MC didn’t know either. During their first tour of the house, Mammon had interrupted the Underground tomb segment and Lucifer had to cut the tour short.

“It’s uh...” MC pursed their lips and tried to think of a convincing lie. “A spell book. Lucifer told me that it makes your magic really really strong, so he stuck it down here to hide it from Solomon.”

“Did I now?”

MC and Luke screamed and whirled around, there stood Lucifer himself, not looking terribly pleased with the two of them.

“MC, care to explain why you and the angel are so close to the Grimoire?” Lucifer’s words were icily calm, and MC knew that meant if they didn’t come up with a good explanation they’d be in big trouble.

“W-we were just playing down here...” MC trailed off, looking to Luke for some kind of backup before realizing what a stupid idea that was.

“Y-yeah! We were just-”

Lucifer stuck his thumb over his shoulder and glowered at the two. “Out.”

“Yes sir.” Luke and MC mumbled as they stepped away from the Grimoire, Lucifer relaxed slightly as the two walked past him and down the hall.

When the two got back up to Beel’s room, Luke suddenly gasped and turned to MC.

“You said it was a spell book!”

After that, MC got the feeling that Luke was no longer welcome in the house. What was the big deal about almost touching the Grimoire anyway? It could only override pacts and control demons-

Oh.

Balls.

Simeon got called to pick up Luke and before the two of them left MC assured Luke that he could come over and hang out anytime as long as he texted first.

Beel said Luke could come over and bake when the kitchen was fixed, poor Beel would have to do without Luke’s baked goods for a little while longer.

MC rested their chin on the coffee table they were kneeling in front of, stewing in annoyance. Their unfinished homework was practically mocking them, but the Demonology textbook was not what had them in their funk.

“MC, do your homework.” Lucifer said from the living room couch, he was comparing his phone to notes in a binder that was placed on his lap.

A grunt from MC caused him to raise an eyebrow. Their grasp on demonic language had improved, but Lucifer did not approve of them using their new skill to sass him.

“MC.” Lucifer chided, MC turned to look at him with a deadpan expression. “If there’s something wrong, either tell me, or do your work without complaining.”

MC turned back to their homework and tapped their pencil against the textbook, before puffing out their cheek and turning back to Lucifer.

“What’s in the attic?”

For the briefest of moments, Lucifer froze, he forcibly relaxed and went back to his work.

“Junk.” Lucifer replied. “Did you try and go up there?”

MC shook their head. “No, I went into the staircase room, but not up the stairs.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed, he then took a deep breath and looked at MC. “Good, there’s nothing of interest up there anyway. If you did go up there you might break something or hurt yourself.”

“Okay.” MC sighed, trying to push the voice from the attic out of their mind. “What about the Grimoire? Why is it down in the tomb?”

Lucifer could feel his patience growing thinner and thinner with every question. “So it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Why not just destroy it?” MC asked, their question wasn’t meant to be taken as an insult or be malicious, it was just legitimate curiosity. “Wouldn’t that be safer?”

The first born hesitated before he answered. He looked over MC, before shaking his head. “...I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

MC’s eyes narrowed, but they went back to their work all the same. It would be about ten minutes of quiet before MC spoke up again.

“When Belphegor gets back from the human world, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do, huh?”

Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to look at MC, who still had their back turned to him as they scribbled notes from the textbook. His grip on his DDD tightened as he replied.

“Why do you say that, MC?”

MC didn’t seem to register their father’s clipped tone, and shrugged. “Beel said that he isn’t answering his texts or calls, and when he sent up a letter Belphegor didn’t respond to that either.”

“The life of an exchange student is a busy one, as you can see.” Lucifer forcibly injected his last bit of remaining calmness into his words as he gestured at MC’s homework. MC laughed at that.

“Yeah well, I still make time to call my friends and ren back up in the human world.” MC giggled. “And I’m sure those text notifications about his older brother discovering that he has a child would make him pick up the phone.”

“Belphegor might have a much larger workload.” Lucifer retorted, trying to keep himself from snapping at MC.

“But still, you’d think he’d call his-”

“MC-” Lucifer snarled, MC whirled around, the fear and shock in their eyes caused anything Lucifer was going to say to die in his throat.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before Lucifer took another deep breath and turned back to his work.

“Not right now, MC,” Lucifer whispered. “I’m working.”

...

To be continued...

#Obey me #Obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Satan #Lucifer’s Kid #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Luke #when I say to be continued- I mean more diverging from canon #I have a feeling the lovely London family trip went smoothly... totally

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cowboymirio · 4 years ago

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They Want To Get A Pet - Headcanons

Summary: Your S/O wants a pet and adorable antics ensue~

Characters: Hizashi Yamada, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Aizawa Shouta, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Hanta Sero, Takami Keigo

Contains: Gender neutral reader, lotsa fluff, Reader has arachnophobia in Sero’s part! Crackheadery in Aizawa’s part

Hizashi Yamada - Cockatoo

📣 You guys totally didn’t plan on getting a cockatoo, or any pet for that matter. Y’all just moved into your new place for christ’s sake!

📣 But after a visit to a lil exotic pet store downtown, your plans changed. And now you’re stuck with a bird with the intelligence of a toddler

📣 According to Yama, the bird just ‘called to him’ and by that, he means the bird literally screamed at him

📣 They’ve got the most bougie cage ever like MTV cribs hit them up.

📣But he doesn’t spend too much time in there as you guys let him roam around the house all day until it’s time for bed or if you leave for a while

📣 If they’re not attached to Yama’s shoulder, you often find them waddling around the house, picking things up off of the floor and throwing them, and squawking at you when they want attention

📣 Sounds like someone else you know huh…

📣 Yama and the bird dance together so much omg. They do the lil head bobs together, he’ll blast some music for them and they go to town he even chirps along to the lyrics omg-

📣 He doesn’t even have to teach them words, they just pick them up on their own… and then never stop saying them… ever

📣 ‘YEAHHHHH’ then from the other side of your home you hear another ‘YEAAHHHHH’

📣 Make it stop

📣 You taught them cuss words for the shits and giggles though

📣 Yama finds it funny too though because he’s got that 8-year-old sense of humor… you all do to be honest

📣 But when the bird chooses to sit on your shoulder you bet your ass Yamada’s gonna fawn over the two of you for the next hour :’)

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Pyrenean Mastiff

🍢 Really wants a pet

🍢 But also really scared of crushing them so…

🍢 You guys settle for a big ‘ol Pyrenean mastiff!

🍢 And when I say they’re big they are big like… I mean knock you over if you’re not careful big

🍢 They’re literally perfect for each other

🍢 They’re both massive units, insanely adorable, and they for sure share the same appetite

🍢 Speaking of food, he makes sure he’s feeding them the best of the best foods even if that means y’all are making it yourselves

🍢 Not as afraid to roughhouse with them as he thought he’d be

🍢 Lots of fetching, frisbee throwing, ‘wrestling’ even?? They’re so rowdy and for what? My heart, that’s what <3

🍢 The dog definitely sleeps on top of him I don’t make the rules

🍢 Mf just hops on up, curls up and they’re ready to go like--- Is that- is that not y’know,,, HEAVY??

🍢 I mean,,, you sleep on top of him too so I honestly don’t think Tai cares too much

Aizawa Shota - Cat

💤 You guys already know…

💤 If he were to get any kind of pet it’d be a cat.

💤 They’re chill, independent, and sometimes want attention. Just how he likes it.

💤 Well… that’s how he thought that things should be but-

💤 BOY was he wrong

💤 After living together for quite a while, stalking animal shelter websites for the perfect cat, and finding the right one, you bring them home!

💤 When you met them at the shelter, they were a sweet lil baby with an aloof attitude that you both fell in love with

💤 But when you brought them home… They became an absolute crackhead.

💤 Forget having ANYTHING on the tables or countertops. It’s on the floor now thanks to them. Fuck your water glass, fuck those papers you were helping Aizawa grade, they’re gone! Shredded! Positively destroyed :)

💤 Forget having free hands, they’re literally attached to his side and won’t stop rubbing against his hands while he’s grading papers and such

💤 If you’re not watching his little dude/ette will try and eat food WHILE YOU’RE COOKING oh my fuckingf god

💤 Heaven forbid this dude tries to leave the room. They’ll ‘cry’ until he comes back.

💤 ‘Go to your other parent, they’ll give you attention.’ ‘mEEEOWWW’ ‘Oh my god fine come here.’

💤 Honestly though he really appreciates when they’re down to sleep. Their purrs and their cuddles are very appreciated

💤 And literally just imagine seeing them curled up on his chest while they sleep on the couch ;; im so somft

Eijiro Kirishima - Bearded Dragon

🏮 This man wants to get THE manliest pet of all,,, a bearded dragon

🏮 He probably saw one on a movie or something and immediately came to you like

🏮 ‘Okay but we neeeeed one just look at their lil beards!! And their tongues!!!’

🏮 You tell him to put it off for a bit, do some research, and see if he still wants one later

🏮 Homeboy is DEDICATED so he puts in the time and ofc he still wants one after the fact

🏮 After a good amount of time, he comes back with a books worth of reasons as to why you guys should get one and you’re honestly shocked

🏮 You just can’t say no to those eyes </33 so you oblige and go out and get one from an owner who’s surrendering it (Because we don’t support chain pet stores in this household)

🏮 You guys can’t pick a name for them so for the longest time they’re just called ‘the lizard’ or ‘little fella’ or whatever else you guys come up with

🏮 Anyways- he’s infatuated with them it’s so funny. He spends all of his freetime watching them get used to their new habitat like,,,, all of it. It’s 1am and he’s just watching it hang out and you’re like ‘Kiri if you love it so much then why don’t you sleep with it’ (not in that way ya nasty)

🏮 HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY

🏮 Next thing you know he hops out of bed, brings them back and puts them between your pillows.

🏮 Lil homie’s just vibin there.

🏮 You’re done tbh but if Kiri’s happy then you’re happy <33

🏮 Absolutely lets it sit on his shoulders when he’s walking around the house

🏮 He has a leash for them and he takes them out during the warmer months

🏮 Dedicates a good portion of his day to clean out their habitat when need be

🏮 Their relationship is just so cute you can’t help but melt every time you see them together

Tenya Iida - Tropical Fish

🌟 After a particularly rough finals season, you figure that Iida needs to have some sort of hobby that can help him chill out, but also has some sort of brainwork in there because that’s your boyfriend for ya

🌟 You suggest getting some fish!

🌟 He rly said ‘I’ll think about it’ then proceeded to do a shit ton of research on it because he literally does that every time you express interest in something. King behavior!!

🌟 You guys settle on getting a few tropical fish and a super nice fish tank for ‘em

🌟 He lets you name all of them and of course you have to name one ‘Iida junior’ like how could you not-

🌟 But seriously though he finds it so endearing and sweet ;;

🌟 You can’t tell me he doesn’t buy all of the nicest shit he can for their tank too.

🌟 Fresh aquatic plants, huge rocks for them to swim through, a nice ass heater, the WORKS

🌟 He’s gotta treat yall’s babies right like what did you expect

🌟 Constantly checking their water to see if it’s alright for them

🌟 He’s usually the one to feed them so whenever he comes up to the tank, they all crowd up by the top like doggies when their owner comes home omg

🌟 He finds the noises from the tank to be really good background noise when he’s reading or studying

🌟 Iida’s honestly glad that you suggested to get fish ‘cause taking care of them is such a relaxing hobby and lord knows he needs some of those

Hanta Sero - Rose Haired Tarantula

🧵 So he wants a Rose Hair Tarantula...

🧵 ‘Absolutely not’ - You, 2021 (sorry if you actually like spiders lol, if a singular person wants hcs where y’all both like spiders please @ me)

🧵 Lots and lots of begging and promises

🧵 ‘You won’t even have to clean the cage, I’ll do it!!’ ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ ‘c’mooon pretty please???’

🧵 He had to bust out the puppy eyes for you to say yes

🧵 And with that, you’re now the proud parents of a demon rose hair tarantula!

🧵 ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ your ass. He lets it climb all over him while he’s walking around the house!!

🧵 Not you actively avoiding him when you see them coming down towards you

🧵 ‘But I wanna kiss!!’ ‘Kiss your tarantula smh’

🧵 After he realizes he’s not gonna get any with his lil buddy (yes, that’s what he calls them) he tries his best to help you familiarize with em

🧵 I’m sorry but he’s trying so hard not to laugh as you freak out when they crawl up your arm

🧵 He takes things more seriously after that though. He’ll give you lil words of encouragement, back pats and such

🧵 He’s so happy that you become… tolerable after a while of you guys just hangin’ out that you can’t help but feel proud too.

🧵 You still can’t stand spiders though.

Keigo Tamaki - Bunnies

🐤 Just like Aizawa, he wants something that’s quiet and can be independent since his schedule is a bit busy but he still wants to have a lil buddy to love on

🐤 You’re actually the one to bring up the idea to get a bunny, it’s part of a long list of ideas you had come up with, but for whatever reason, the bunny idea just stuck with him

🐤 You two hop (im a comedic genius hi <33) on over to the nearest rescue you can find, and browse through the enclosures looking for the perfect bunny for you guys

🐤 Ok so like- here’s the thing,,,

🐤 You totally didn’t plan on getting two bunnies… But you guys found a pair that were literally inseparable and y’all had to have them

🐤 He’s already calling them ‘Our children’ straight off the bat like- y’all JUST got home and he’s already giving you baby fever UGH

🐤 He bunny-proofs the FUCK out of the house so they can roam freely ‘cause he didn’t just get these babies to stick them in a cage smh

🐤 Will lay on the floor and just watch them romp around cus he finds it relaxing and funny

🐤 Also please get on the floor and watch them with him. Prime cuddling hours

🐤 They burrow under his wings… I repeat- THEY BURROW UNDER HIS WINGS

🐤 They WILL flop together don’t @ me

🐤 They (and by they I mean all three of them) flop on you when they want attention can I jst--- *cries*

🐤 Have fun trying to get up, this is your life now.

🐤 But are you really complaining? You shouldn’t be smh

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chayacat · 4 years ago

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (22)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Laziness. We humans are the champions of laziness. We always push something back the next day or the day after. And sometimes wrongly. Because even the important things, we push them back to the next day. We're lazy on everything, shopping, cleaning, meals, showers, outings, work... Life in general. But where we are the laziest, where we are the champions of the world, what do I say, of the universe, what do I say again, of the whole galaxy! It's to get up.

Aaaah...How good it is to stay in a bed, so soft, so fluffy, that we could say that it’s a cloud. Not a sound, a perfect silence... Why wake up and get up when you can easily stay in bed and sleep all day? Because... Because you have to live anyway. And then starving and stinking the old goat is not an option.

Danny opened his eyes dimly, the soft glow of the day glimmering his cheek. And the first thing he saw and felt made him smile. You were there, in bed, in his arms, a smile on your face, a smile that sublimated your face. He did the right thing not to kill you. For now. Even though he couldn't take you to the seventh heaven that night, he couldn't help but feel some satisfaction in keeping you close to him for the whole night.

Seeing this... He was thinking about Carla. She was the same. Never let go in the morning, worse than an oyster to his rock. He would give anything to see her again... Just one last time. He rose gently, without waking you, to sit on the bed. He gently opened the drawer of his nightstand to take out the picture. He'll never separate from this picture. It was the only thing, the only memory of her, that he possessed.

He couldn't help but think about it: how would his life be today if Carla were still alive? Well first of all, he wouldn't be a murderer all over the country. I think it’s a no-brainer that we can all make. They both had plans, each would have made a career, they would have had their own home. Children... They would have had a good life. They would have had... But that will never happen now. He suddenly felt two hands resting on his torso, then a head landing in the hollow of his neck. He turned his head slightly to see you, a slight smile on your lips, your hair slightly in battle.

“Sorry... I didn't want to wake you up. You know you can sleep a little longer...” He said before kissing you.

“Don't worry... you have nothing to do with it. And then I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep if you're gone. You're hot, at least, with you I'm not going to get cold.” you respond sticking to him before looking at the picture. “It's... Is that Carla? She was really pretty... You were lovely together... I almost feel ridiculous by comparison.”

“Hey, don't say that. You are one of the most beautiful girls I have ever met. What Carla and I lived... How she was... Will never be comparable to the two of us. I could never forget her. That's impossible. But I can't stay like this forever. I have to move forward, and it is with you that I want to move forward now. That is what she would like me to do. And I will, for her. Now all that matters is you. OK?” He replied, hugging you tenderly.

“Thank you, Jed...you’re so adorable.” you answer.

“I know. I'm going to prepare breakfast, I'm not as expert as you but... Eggs and bacon only resist me very rarely. I'll let you wake up gently.”

He got up as he stretched, then put on a pair of pants and a black tank top. Then he went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, releasing eggs and two slices of bacon. Then he turned on the gas and cooked it for each plate. He served each plate and took out orange juice. Everything we need for the day. Today he had planned to spend time with you. Even if first, he had to take you to the police station so that you could make your statement. And of course.... it's with Inspector Wilhelm. Decidedly, it’s to be believed that he is the only inspector of this city ... And yet there are four of them. Of course not. He's the one who falls on.

The day he can kill him... will be the icing on the cake. Of course, if he's going to kill him, he'll do it when he leaves town. Because unfortunately he won't be able to stay forever in Roseville. In any case, it’s not in his plans. And if you could follow... that would be perfect. Of course, you have your business here... but he will wait until you have an employee qualified enough to take over the coffee, and you will open another one in your new city.

And then... maybe he can accomplish his projects, which he had with Carla, with you? It's a possibility. And like that... you could never leave him. You would be his adorable little wife... raising your children and also working on your side. And he will do the same, Danny is not the type to do nothing in a relationship. He returned to his bedroom when he saw you, your hand on the doorknob of his office. He stepped forward and put a hand on your shoulder gently, which startled you and let go of the handle.

“Curiosity is a nasty flaw my love. There are precious things I care about in there. Even though I know you won't touch anything... I... I can't let you in right now. But promised... one day you'll be able to access this room. The breakfast is ready and careful: I would be very upset if there is anything left on the plate.” He said before kissing you and laugh.

“Yes, sir! leave nothing in the plate or otherwise grumpy Jed will wake up.” You answer laughing.

“I was thinking... After you go to the police station, maybe we could spend a little day together? nothing but you and me... wherever you want, in the park, in the museum, in the shops... even though the shops and I are not very good friends.”

“Why not? And then I could take the opportunity to check if everything's okay at the café. In case some naughty little bake thieves passed.”

“It's not me... I was very well watched last night.”

You both laugh before you eat. Then Danny cleared it, took his stuff and waited until you were ready to leave to open the door and take the keys to the van. Both, you’re heading towards the vehicle and once properly settled, Danny started and set off for the police station. He didn't think he'd see Wilhelm again anytime soon. He parked in the parking lot of the police station and decided to accompany you. There's no way you're going to be alone with Wilhelm.

You both showed up at the reception and the policeman informed the inspector before letting you through. Danny smiled, he couldn't stand this place, at the same time who wants to be here? No one. But unfortunately, he has no choice even if he could have stayed in the van, Danny prefers to stay with you. He still imagines Wilhelm's face when he sees him. And that didn't take long. Wilhelm was waiting outside his office and when he saw Danny, a little grin appeared on his face.

“Olsen... still in my paws, isn't it? What are you doing here?” He asks, with a false smile.

“Well, I'm coming with my girlfriend. It's been official for a while. It's silly a few days ago you wouldn't have seen me.” Danny responds with a provocative smile.

“Tsk. Well... I don't see what women find in the journalist.... Especially you. Anyway, come in, miss. On the other hand, Olsen, you're staying there.”

“Oh no I don't think so, I wouldn't leave that beautiful angel alone with you.”

Wilhelm growled slightly and let Danny into the office with you. He gave you a little smile and a wink before sitting down with you. The deposition lasted about an hour and a half, Wilhelm sometimes asking you for details about your assault. And on your attacker. After all, He has to know if there's a connection between him and you.

Danny didn't tell anything. And held back from smiling or laughing when thinking about McKellan. If Wilhelm knew... if he could quickly find his body so Danny could see his head... if he started vomiting it would be the icing on the cake. And once again, he won't be suspected. Everything is perfect. You leave the police station after a few minutes, not without Danny and Wilhelm exchanging a few more spades. Then he joins you, gently taking you by the waist.

“I have the impression that you and Wilhelm are not on very good terms, I'm wrong?” you ask ironically

“Let's say that according to him I am... what does he call me already? Oh, yes! a "dirty weasel that deserves a big kick in the ass". So technically... No, we're both not really on good terms. Ah and also because I usually find more information about the Ghostface murders than he did then... you understand why he doesn't like me too much...” Danny responds with a sneaky smile.

“I see indeed... Ok... Where are we going now?”

“Wherever you want my love. Tell me what you'd want and I'll take you there.”

“Hm... Let's go to the park. We can land quietly... and enjoy the day. And then we'll go out and eat. I've never tested Indian food...”

“Mattew has a very bad memory of it... Don't ever talk to him about it if you don't want to see him twist in half.” Replied Danny, laughing a little.

Danny got in the van and waited for you to get on board to start and leave the parking lot of the police station. He went towards the park and besides, he knew exactly where to go to be quiet. The park being quite large, there was a small lake that hardly anyone frequented. So, you won't be disturbed at this place. A perfect moment of calm and peace that Danny wanted.

The park was big. people were scattered all over the place, children played while adults chatted, sipping a small glass of wine or other fun. Danny looked up at the sky, people are inveterate drunks. He also drank and held alcohol but no more than two drinks. The only time he went further than two drinks... Let's say he would have a hard time remembering how and why he woke up in a hammock... In his underwear. When it was cold. Well, he was in high school, and someone put a warm blanket on him. So, we can put this on account of the youthful spirit...

He parked not far from the lake and went down making sure everything was closed and then followed you to land right in front of the lake. The view from here was beautiful. For an artist or photographer, it was the perfect place.

“I often come here when I need to work quietly. And get some fresh air. Even if technically, I could just stay at home and open the window... I'm not that nerd... Not yet.” Said Danny using his coat to sit on the floor.

“It's kind of your secret garden... even if there are still people who come... It's very nice.” You said, sitting next to him.

You watch the lake for several hours while chatting. Some passers-by also came to settle down, and children came to play. In fact, Danny almost got a frisbee in his head twice. It's a good thing he had a good reflex. But despite his good reflexes, you laughed every time. A laugh he could hear all day. Then around noon, you leave the park to eat. There was a small Indian restaurant not far from the park. If Danny was content with a simple chicken curry, you on the other hand enjoy everything you had taken. It wasn't expensive but it was good. And he didn't even have time to get out of what to pay for. You paid, long before he took out his wallet.

Then came the afternoon shopping. Danny couldn't say no unfortunately, he promised to take you wherever you wanted to go. Fortunately, in another sense, not all of them were clothing stores. You made him buy a few decorations, a frame so he could put the picture of him and Carla and two/three other little things. Then comes the clothing store.

“I'm not a big fan of shorts and tank tops you know...” Said Danny, lying. He has to live as a Jed when he's with you. For now. He can’t wait the day when he can be again and simply himself.

“I think it looks good on you! It changes you! it makes you look more ... sexy.” you respond cheerfully.

“Well...if you say so. I'm going to listen to you. But don't expect to change my entire wardrobe...”

“Oh, but little by little I will get there! You won't even realize it.”

Danny sighed and laughed, shaking his head. The evening came, and as you had planned, you go to the café to check that everything was fine. And you take the opportunity to pass a broom. Then tired of your day, you both go home. But this time, Danny didn't have time to get you into his house, you've already opened the door to your apartment.

“You'll be able to sleep alone like a big boy tonight... I have to make the cakes for the shop tomorrow. Even though I'd prefer to spend time with you. I wish I could destroy the wall that separates our two apartments...” You said, laughing a little

“Unfortunately, I'm not sure the owners agree ... but living in the same apartment is not a possibility to be ruled out. you have to think about it... and in the meantime we will be separated by a wall...” said Danny before kissing you. “Good night my love. Have sweet dreams.”

Danny went back to his apartment and closed the door. He put the bags and his coat on the sofa, the keys on the furniture of the entrance, and walked to his office. He's very lucky to have seen you ready to open the door. He would have a hard time explaining all of this to you. But one day you'll find out. One day... he may be himself again.

But the night was not over for him. He took his bag which contained his Ghostface outfit and prepared to leave. Tonight, he had no particular target. Tonight, he was lazy to stalk someone to kill him later. Tonight, we're going to change our method. Tonight, a poor unlucky man will cross his path. And he'll die.

Sometimes... The change in habits...feels good.

***

(I get my code exam! Yeah!!!! Next step: Driving! And that will be another story, because I'm little scared of driving XD. I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Now time for my brain to get some rest after an intense week! Have a good week-end! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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concealeddarkness13 · 4 years ago

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WHG 15 Imposter Syndrome Part 5

Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes (also thanks for Volt!), @pen-of-roses, @thoughts-of-nora, and @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Priscilla Cristal and Atwater!)!

I stared at myself in the mirror as my stylist put the finishing touches on the most ghastly costume I had ever seen. I glanced over at my stylist, who had a permanent sneer on his face. “A cow. Really?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not like you livestock people give me anything to work with.”

I glared at him. “How am I supposed to get sponsors like this?” I gestured at the full body suit of a cow, complete with a cow headpiece.

“Who cares? I didn’t sign up for District 10 anyway. They had to beg me to do it. You should be grateful.”

I snorted and started walking to the door. “Well, you should be grateful for this then.” I shot him double middle fingers before I slammed the door behind me.

This wouldn’t do at all. I would probably need supplies in the arena, so I would need sponsors. Which meant I couldn’t be seen in this hideous costume. I stalked the hallways, looking for either a stray stylist or some clothes I could steal.

The stray stylist showed up first. She (I think) was a sight with rainbow hair that stood a foot over her head and stiletto heels. Her lips thinned as she looked me up and down. “I see my fellow stylists are incompetent, as usual.”

I put on my best dramatic pleading expression: wide eyes, jutted out lower lip, hands clasped. “Please, you’re the only one who can help me. I bet your costumes are much better!”

She scoffed. “Begging doesn’t look good on you, dear.” Pause as I fix my face. “So, what would you want me to do about it?”

I winked, instead going for a jovial approach. “I bet you are better than my stylist. Would you happen to have something that would catch the crowd’s eye? It doesn’t have to be related to my district.”

“Of course it doesn’t.” She looked me up and down again and sighed. “You’re in luck. My district doesn’t want my idea anyway. How do you feel about pirates?”

I grinned. I was a pirate. “That sounds fabulous.”

She ushered me over to an empty changing room, and she commenced with getting me ready all on her own. It was a whirlwind, and she ran out afterwards, yelling that she had to go save my district mate from the same fate.

I grinned at my reflection. Much better. A black, slightly low cut tank top; skin-tight, black pants; knee-high, black lace up boots; a white coat that fastened around my neck so I didn’t have to put my arms through the sleeves; and a white tricorn hat. She had rushed an explanation that in the lights of the loading area and chariot presentation area, the white hat and coat would shine pastel rainbow colors. Just the right amount of flashy without being gaudy. I was ready now.

I wandered over to the chariot loading area, and just a few minutes after I arrived, Volt Powell and Atwater (I refused to call him by his first name for some reason) walked in dressed in the glorious costumes of a hen and a rooster. Shit. I probably would have looked similar. I shook with silent laughter until I could contain it and walked over to them with a grin. Aunt Reeves had known Volt and told me about her, and that Atwater fellow looked like he’d enjoy some mischief.

“Nice evening, isn’t it? I see some of us were more fortunate than others.”

Volt made a face. “You should be careful. Don’t want to waste your good fortune here, do you?”

I winked at her. “Ah, but I’d trade this costume a thousand times to stay near such a beauty.” I held out my hand. “Triel Reeves. District 10. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Reeves, huh?” She shook my hand firmly. “Volt Powell, District 11.”

I would have to ask her about her plots with Aunt Reeves. “Hmm. I might have some questions for you soon. But I don’t want to neglect Mr. Atwater over here.” I whipped around to him. “I must say, I was impressed by the string of curses coming out of your mouth before the Capitol cut away. It’s funny. They are fine with sending fucking children to their deaths. But cursing, on the other hand, is the evilest of sins.” I held out my hand to Atwater.

“They cut it?” He raised an eyebrow as his eyes focused on me. “Damn. Another victim of the Capitol’s tyrannous censorship.” He shook my hand. “Guess I don’t gotta introduce myself.”

“You’re that memorable. And your handsome face doesn’t hurt either.” I winked again. “I have a proposal for both of you which involves destroying the Capitol’s tenuous hold on the idea that they control everything. Would you two be willing to hear it?”

Volt crossed her arms and watched me before she shrugged. “Why not? Go for it.”

Atwater looked a little interested. “I’m listening.”

“I have an airship and a genius engineer who can sneak said airship into the arena to get as many tributes as possible out of the arena without the Capitol’s consent.” I eyed Volt. “I’m sure you’re familiar with airships and the not-so-legal side of things, and you know the captain and crew who taught me everything I know. I would be thrilled if you are interested. And even more thrilled if you would assist me in causing some malicious mischief against the Capitol before the plan is executed.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really? Sounds like a stretch, doesn’t it?”

Shit. I should have known this would happen, but it still hit me like a blow to the stomach. But I forced my smile to not falter, even though my voice was shakier. “I’ve researched the Capitol and the arenas of the past. I even was able to get some information on blueprints for this arena from a reliable source. I-I even have a previous tribute on my side, and she knows all about what the Capitol throws at us in the arena.” Don’t think about how she basically told me to give up the last time I really talked to her. I cleared my throat. “I assure you, I have done everything I could to prepare. There won’t be any problems.”

“And what’s the catch?” Atwater’s voice was as smooth as silk, but there was something under it that didn’t sound so calm.

I shook my head. “Nothing! All I want to do is fuck with the Capitol and save people. Once we’re out of the arena, you can go wherever you want, no strings attached.” He snorted at that.

Volt sighed. “Trust me kid, just because you thought of everything doesn’t mean you really have.”

This was good practice for other dissenters. I just had to keep telling myself that as my hands grew clammy and I had to clasp them to stop them from shaking. “That may be true, but Captain Reeves made me work on improvising. I’ll be able to work with whatever happens.”

Atwater sounded pleasant when he spoke up. “I have only two questions. First: why the hell are you doing this? Second: how the fuck are you doing this? Specifically the escaping bit. They have force fields around the arena, by the way. And it’s guarded by a fleet of hovercrafts. In the middle of nowhere. And I’ve heard a nasty rumor they monitor what happens there on camera.”

Oh. I could answer those questions. “I’m doing this because I don’t particularly like the idea of children dying in the arena, and I’m planning on recruiting as many tributes as possible, and because I hate the Capitol and want to see them fail. Second, my engineer has already invented machines that make the airship invisible to both the eye and radars. And they’re almost finished with a machine that will disable the force field around the arena. The cameras on the inside will be tricky, but maybe there’s a hacker or two within the list of willing tributes. If not, we can always chuck as many cameras as we can so that they break.”

That was the best I could do at the moment, and they didn’t look like they hated the idea. I tipped my hat at them as we got called to board our chariots. “Please at least think about my offer. And possibly meet up with me during training so we can fuck with the Capitol.” I ran off before they could respond.

As the chariots started moving, I forced the brightest grin, and I waved at the crowd and blew kisses. Acting for them, I could do, but I still didn’t know if this plan would work. But what choice did I have? It had to work, or I would have doomed the people with me to death. And I wouldn’t let that happen.

During President Snow’s speech, I sat down and tipped my hat over my eyes as if I was sleeping. Fuck him because of all the lives he had ruined. I clasped my necklace tighter as the chariots rolled away.

#writeblr hunger games #writeblr

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just-another-wasteland-merc · 4 years ago

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Can’t Sleep?

My last submission for @fluffyfebruary is here. I do plan on doing the rest of them, or maybe even expanding/editing on a couple before I post them on AO3, but I will announce when I add them!

Anyway, here you are! I was pretty excited to write this, and I hope you love it too. Does it hint to the future? Yep! Enjoy! :D

Cold. Mac knew this feeling well, but he wasn’t as used to it anymore in bed. His hand touched the corners of his eyes, almost pinching the bridge of his nose, then felt around on the other side of the bed. He expected Em, his tiny space heater, to be there. Even if she rolled away from him in her sleep, knowing she was there would be enough for him, and he could sneak himself over to her side and spoon her to get warmer, then head back to sleep. But he blinked a few times as he figured out that she wasn’t in bed at all, feeling around the covered mattress and only getting blankets in an answer instead.

He slowly propped himself onto his elbow, checking down the hall. Maybe his body just timed it, and he woke up when she was getting water, or heading to the bathroom. He waited for a minute, listening. Once his eyes focused more, he saw a soft and steady glow from down the hall. He sighed, pulling back the covers and got out of bed, shuffling through stiff joints and whacking his shin on the corner of the bed frame because he cut the corner too short for what felt like the millionth time. Whispering a curse, he gave a half step to the right as he very briefly considered setting the frame on fire in the morning in retaliation for another new bruise. Mac glanced down at the Pip-Boy steadily glowing light blue as he passed by Em’s side of the bed before heading out into the hall.

2:07. Christ, he thought. At least it’s not four-thirty in the friggin’ morning.

Mac made sure to poke his head into his kids’ room, making sure both Duncan and Katherine were asleep before he went to find his wife. He heard a soft, lower-pitched whine from the same direction as the light. Mac sighed. Dogmeat was with her, and Mac was grateful that she wasn't technically alone. He watched the small scene before him, waiting to enter the room as he observed them.

Em was seated on the couch next to the lit lamp, idly petting Dogmeat's head as he rested it on her thighs, staring at her and making the low-pitched whine once more, as if communicating to her through the small noise. She stroked the fur, sometimes using her nails gently to give him a new pattern. Dogmeat spotted Mac, and his tail wagged a couple of times. The motion alerted Em as she looked over her shoulder.

"Hey," she murmured. "Thought you were asleep."

"Bed got cold," he said tiredly. "Wondered where you were." He came around and sat down next to her. Dogmeat's tail wagged harder and more enthusiastically as Mac joined them. "You alright?"

"Mhm. Couldn't sleep."

"Something eating at you?"

She met his eyes slowly, almost nervous to look at him. Em leaned into his touch when he moved some of her hair away from her face, but she remained quiet for a moment. The only answer he received for his question was a small nod, so small he almost missed it. He took her hand in his, gently interlacing their fingers.

"Tell me how to help," he murmured. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"This isn't bothering me, but it's something I've wondered." She fell quiet for a moment. "It's not what's actually keeping me up, so please don't worry about that."

He nodded, listening as his thumb softly stroked her finger, back and forth.

"Before you continue," he interrupted, "what is keeping you up?"

"I don't know, I just can't sleep."

"Okay. Sorry, please go on."

She took a slightly shaky breath, and squeezed his hand. She smiled slightly when she got a squeeze in return almost immediately.

"At some point… I'd like to go home. To… to the Midwest."

He certainly hadn't considered this. He was expecting the suggestion of another kid, or to step down as the Minutemen General, but leaving the Commonwealth? It was a curveball to him. He knew she wasn't originally from Boston, and he was glad because neither was he. He thought for a moment. How long had it taken him to get from DC to Boston? At least a week, one-way, and that was taking weather, super mutants, raiders, and every nasty, hostile animal he had encountered into consideration. He wondered how long it would take them to get to the Midwest, with two kids and a dog. He wasn't worried about Dogmeat in the slightest the longer he thought about it- he was a good dog and was an added protection factor for Duncan and Katherine. Hell, he watches over them as he sleeps. Mac was definitely not worried anymore.

He blinked, and saw her eyes were wide as she watched for his reaction. How long had he thought about it? Say something, he thought. You're scaring her.

"I wasn't expecting you to say that, " he finally said. "Honestly, I thought you were gonna say something else, but.. hm."

She nodded, letting him continue.

"I don't know about… when." He shook his head, still tired and not able to form a coherent thought enough to string the right words together. "When do you want to go?"

"Not for a while. At least until Katherine is older and can handle the journey without us carrying her."

He nodded, yawning. "You have this planned out, I see." He smiled when she nodded again. "Alright. I'm open to the idea, but let's talk about this another time, okay? It's two in the morning, and we need to go back to bed."

"You promise we can talk about this?"

He kissed the back of her hand as he still held it, smiling a little wider at her. "Absolutely. But come on. Back to bed."

Mac waited until Em turned out the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Dogmeat flicked his tongue out, catching Em and Mac's intertwined fingers in a lick before he led the pair down the hall. He received pats from both of them as a gift, then they watched in the moonlight as the dog went into the kids' room, walked in a small circle a couple of times on the rug, and settled himself down, facing the door. He set his head down on the floor, watching Em and Mac, then the hallway.

Smirking at how protective Dogmeat is with their children, Mac gently pulled Em into their bedroom by the hand, then pulled back the covers on her side of the bed. A second, small kiss to the hand he still lovingly held in his, he knew he had to let her go so he could get himself into bed.

"Wait," she whispered.

"It's only for a moment." He smiled at her. "Then I'm all yours."

Em's shoulders seemed to slump a little, but she smiled softly at him and crawled into bed. She heard him make his way to the other side, then a thump, followed by a curse.

"What did you hit this time?" she asked.

"My knee," he grunted.

She sighed, but smiled anyway as the mattress dipped when Mac added his weight to the bed. His voice fell to a whisper as he let out a sigh of relaxation.

"Okay, I'm ready. Come here."

Em chuckled, scooting towards the middle of the bed to him, orienting herself in relation to both him and the bed as she felt for him. She felt his hands touch her, guiding her head to his chest, and Mac quietly chuckled as once she had something familiar, the rest of her curled up to him, and he felt the weight of her arm across his waist and the pleasant warmth of her next to him. She sighed, comfortable.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Mhm."

"Comfy?" His thumb touched her cheek, and swept it across her cheekbone and down her jaw. He felt her stir in his arms, and his hand on her back soothingly rubbed small circles into the fabric of her tank.

"Very…" Her voice sounded distant, as if already almost asleep. She moved, reaching up to softly kiss him. She shifted up further, resting her head more on his shoulder and letting her forehead touch his cheek.

He lazily smiled, knowing she couldn't see. Mac adjusted his hold to better accommodate her, and gave a few-second-long kiss on her forehead.

"Love you, angel," he whispered.

"Love you too," she replied.

The circles on her back continued as he laid there. He was so used to falling asleep after her, and tonight was no different. He listened for her breath to slow, and for her arm to slacken. When he gave one more kiss to her forehead, he knew she was asleep when he didn't feel her cheeks move in a smile.

He closed his eyes, his head sinking further into the pillow, resting his cheek against the top of her head. Soft snores soon filled the room, and Mac's hand finally came to rest for the night.

#em and mac take the commonwealth #fluffy february #fallout fluffy feb #insomnia/bed sharing/falling asleep in each other's arms #fallout 4 #fallout4 #rj maccready #maccready #Robert Joseph MacCready #thanks for reading #i love everyone who sees this #thank you for letting me participate

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secret-engima · 5 years ago

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Cloud Strife reborn as Prompto argentum???

*ancient plunny revives with a scream* *I slam the lid back down on it with a surprised screech*

WHY YOU DO THIS TO ME. BUCKLE UP WE’RE GETTING A FREAKING FICLET.

-Cloud Strife dies, old and ... contented for the most part. He’s lived a good life. Not an easy one, or even a kind one, but ... good. He dies and he slides into the Lifestream, and Zack and Aerith welcome him with open arms.

-And for a very, very long time, he drifts. He is ... partially aware of the world beyond the Lifestream, but he mostly doesn’t care. He did his part, saved it more than a few times, he’s earned his rest.

-Zack and Aerith like to keep an eye on the world though, partly out of curiosity and partly out of care, and they keep him apprised of certain things. Of Minerva raising new Guardians of the world via the Summons, assigning some to guard the Star from threats from beyond, some as Messengers who function much like old Summons. They tell him about the rise and fall of a civilization called Solheim and Cloud mourns a little at the rush of new residents in the Lifestream that follows Ifrit’s wrath.

-Then Aerith comes to him and tells him-

-That Ifrit went too far. His anger runs too deep. It’s ... done something. Jenova is dead and gone, but some of her taint lingered in the scars of the world and Ifrit’s anger FUSED with those old wisps to birth something new. Something terrible. Something called the Starscourge.

-And Cloud gets a nasty feeling that his time of rest is coming to an end.

-Still, he doesn’t leave. He doesn’t want to. But now he takes to watching occasionally with Zack and Aerith as the Astrals struggle to stop what one of their own created, as Bahamut crafts a mighty Crystal, a direct conduit to the power of the Lifestream and all the old magics that used to be found freely in Materia but that Gaia had long ago pulled back for fear of humanity’s abuse. Bahamut tracks down two families, one descended of Tifa’s children, blue eyed and black haired and Stubborn, another descended of Genesis of all people, skilled in magic and poets at heart. Bahamut blesses them with magic and tells them they will save the world.

-Cloud watches in spurts and flickers, dropping into awareness every century or so. The two family lines have no yet cured the Scourge, the taint still spreads, inch by inch and victim by victim.

-Aerith cries her heart out when Ardyn is born, and rises, and falls. It’s not fair. It’s not FAIR for another to suffer like this. Ardyn was as close to an Ancient as could ever be and he tried so HARD, but he was too immature in his magic, he didn’t have the same knowledge that Aerith or even Zack and Cloud had about magic and so he was infected. But his magic was too strong to let him die from it.

-Cloud goes and yells at Minerva with Zack a little bit, and she looks at them wearily and explains she CAN’T do anything. Gaia has given the world of the living to the Astrals. Minerva can no longer directly interfere and Bahamut refuses to listen.

-And time continues to unspool. Bahamut has bound Gaia (now called Eos) to a Prophecy and all they can do is watch it play out.

-Unless...

-Titan comes to them in secret, without Bahamut’s knowledge or permission. Titan is of Earth and the Earth is of the Lifestream, he is the closest still to being the Titan of old, the closest to memories of when Eos was Gaia and Gaia had Champions. Titan is a patience creature, but not unkind. He, unlike the others, has remained awake and part of the world after catching the great Meteor, has seen humans struggle and live and love and die. He remembers the old Champions... and so he asks.

-One more time?

-Cloud is tired just thinking about it. He is not a hero, not in his own eyes, he is just a screwup, an experiment gone wrong and broken free of its strings. But he loves his friends, and the people who are descended of Tifa and Genesis and all his old companions. He loves the world still and most of all ... he loves Aerith and Zack. His brother and sister of heart. So when Aerith and Zack step forward to accept Titan’s plan, what can Cloud do but quietly step forward as well and offer to fight one more time?

-Titan thanks them, and he and Minerva make a plan. Already time is drawing short. They cannot simply DO THIS and hope for the best, they must place them where they have the most chance of changing things. Titan and Minerva settle on an idea and Minerva apologizes to Cloud, specifically.

-Cloud is pulled under before he can ask why. And for a long time that is the last he knows.

-Awareness comes back in flickers and spurts and the feel of bubbling green liquid on his skin. Sight comes diluted by the water of a tank.

-Cloud emerges from his tank screaming and thrashing, and the men in white coats take note of his unusual energy and reactions to the first of the Scourge treatments.

-Cloud feels the Scourge slide into his veins like an old, hated friend and screams louder, but magic is soul and soul is magic and Cloud’s soul has already battled something far worse than this diluted, spiteful plague. It consumes the Scourge in his veins, twists it into familiar channels and patterns that will someday make Cloud unnaturally strong and fast and keen of senses despite his scrawny frame and normal appearance.

-For now though, Cloud shivers in his sparks of fragile awareness and hates that he ever agreed to this.

-Of course he was reborn in a FREAKING LABORATORY.

-Cloud isn’t sure how long he stays in the lab, fading from awareness only to launch back to the forefront of the infantile mind this body has in fits and spurts. Just that it’s too long. Long enough for the men to mark him like a candy bar, long enough for them to pump gallon after gallon of Scourge in his veins and take confused notes when his body absorbs it and twists it into something different out of self-defense.

-He wakes up at one point to hear someone shuffling around the lab they moved him into. Someone with a different tread from the guards and the scientists. Cloud whines despite himself, flails with frustrating tiny limbs as a strange face appears above his sealed not-crib. Ice blue eyes look into Cloud’s, and Cloud knows in an instant this man is not of the lab. This man is dressed wrong, moves wrong, FEELS like he doesn’t belong, like there is a star pulsing softly under his skin.

-Cloud reaches for the man with another whine he can’t help and starts crying silently because Stupid Baby Instincts.

-He’s honestly surprised when the man blinks twice, sighs at the ceiling and mutters over his own idiocy, and then breaks open Cloud’s not-crib container. Alarms screech in his overly sensitive ears as the man clumsily hefts Cloud’s tiny infant self into his arms and RUNS. Cloud has never been so grateful for another person’s recklessness in his entire life.

-The man runs and hides and carts him what feels like halfway across the world, bumbling through childcare in a way that Cloud is pretty sure a normal baby wouldn’t have survived. Cloud is probably JUST shy of a year old when the man stumbles into a city that is coated with magic and makes his way to a huge building that practically THROBS with magic in a way that makes Cloud’s baby skin crawl and the not-Scourge in his blood shiver.

-The man is apparently named Cor, at least according to the other two men who yell that name as he stumbles into a private study with Cloud wrapped in his tattered jacket. Cloud can’t stop his tiny baby body from bursting into tears at the yelling (sound was too-loud-TOOLOUDMAKEITSTOP) and the dead, stunned silence is almost gratifying.

-“I couldn’t leave him,” Cor rasps to the other two men as they tentatively inspect Cloud, “I just- the things they were DOING to him, Regis. The things in the reports- I couldn’t leave him.”

-“Well you can’t keep him,” protests one of the men as the other holds out a finger for Cloud to hold and coos, “Niflheim will become suspicious. Especially since the boy looks nothing like you.”

-“I’m not killing him,” Cor SNARLS, holding Cloud too tightly to be comfortable. Both men raise their hands placatingly and promise that was NOT what they were implying.

-They end up giving Cloud away after having their doctors poke and prod and confirm he’s not infected with anything (how they miss the not-Scourge in his veins Cloud will never know). Cloud can’t stop himself from clinging to Cor when the man gives him away, because Cor might not have a clue how to raise a kid, but Cor was kind and SAFE and Cloud didn’t want to him to leave.

-But leave the man does. And the couple takes him home. They name him Prompto Argentum.

-And for a long time after that, Cloud is all alone.

-Oh they take care of his physical needs, and they are affectionate for a while, but they are busy people, and Cloud is too mature and strange, and so they slowly drift away.

-Cloud tells himself it’s fine. He can use the alone time to study at his true mental level rather than baby books and he can train his body to keep up with the burning, roiling power in his veins from the Not-Scourge that has given him skills and abilities dangerously similar to what he had post-Hojo. He tells himself that it’s fine as he looks for Zack and Aerith in the faces of every child and adult he meets and finds nothing. He tells himself it’s fine.

-The part of him that remembers raising Denzel, the part that held Tifa close when her beau left her after she refused to get rid of the child growing insider her and then helped her raise that child as if he was the father even when he wasn’t, knows it’s not.

-Cloud watches the news for word of Cor and wonders if the man knows (or would care) that the baby he saved is growing up raising HIMSELF rather than being loved and doted on as the couple promised.

-He avoids the children at school. One because he is mentally much older, and two because he can feel his SOLDIER strength coming back to him every passing year, fed to him through the gate opened by the Not-Scourge in his blood and the dreams Minerva sends him, promising that he will not be alone forever.

-He avoids the children for their own safety in case he has a panic attack about the labs of either lifetime and the things that were done to him.

-He avoids.

-Until one day, when Cloud is seven years old and has hidden himself in the farthest corner of the playground possible to get away from the too-loud noise of gossiping children on his too-sensitive ears, the new student the teachers mentioned (that Cloud hadn’t paid attention to) tromps up, squats down next to him and holds out a hand, “Hey,” he whispers as if he knows that Cloud is having a sensory overload day, “My name’s Noctis. Wanna be friends?”

-Cloud stares at blue, blue eyes the color of the sky, feels magic already wrapping around him in a boisterous sort of invisible hug and feels tears well up, “P-prompto.”

-The boy grins at him, bright as the sun in a way that almost hides the age in his eyes, “Hmmm, that’s a cool name and all, but I’m gonna give you a nickname. How about ... Cloud?”

-And Cloud knows.

-“Zack!” He wheezes as he lunges forward to catch his friend in a hug that is returned with equal desperation.

-“I’m here, buddy. I’m here. Sorry I took so long to find you.”

-Noctis (Zack) and Prompto (Cloud) are inseparable from that point on. Zack drags Cloud to his limo after school and Cloud has no issues coming over for a sleepover that he knows is probably not going to end until they hit their age of majority. The other boy in the back seat (Ignis) eyes Cloud warily, but then smiles and welcomes him.

-Once at Zack’s house (the freaking Citadel, so much for being a simple country boy), Zack and Cloud cry their eyes out and plan and acknowledge that Minerva and Titan needed kicks in the teeth for making Zack be reborn as the CHOSEN KING. Now they just need to find Aerith.

-“Betcha she’s the Oracle” Cloud says as he sprawls on the sinfully fluffy carpet and glares at the ceiling.

-Zack whines because his wife is so far away!!

-Cloud thinks Regis chokes on his wine a little bit when Zack drags Cloud to dinner and introduces him by his “official” name. Cloud wonders if Regis remembers the tiny infant he made Cor give away.

-(Regis looks at the new friend his son has made, with blue eyes that seem to glow when in shadows and who wears a leather armband over one wrist at all times, and oh, OH he remembers. He remembers and he wonders with a swoop of dread if this friendship is really just coincidence).

-SO. Some other thoughts on this monster AU plunny: Aerith is Luna (obviously) and writes to the boys the moment Pryna and Umbra are old enough to use as messengers. Noctis is known for being a hyper, cheerful oddball while Prompto is his quiet, melancholy and too-serious friend that can bench press a suit of armor despite looking like a shrimp.

-Cor has a minor heart attack upon meeting Cloud, who instantly gloms onto him as if he remembers Cor (but that’s impossible, kids don’t remember things before the age of three right? RIGHT?).

-Prompto is not the sharpshooter in this verse. Sorry he isn’t. Cloud hates guns for Reasons (coughZack’s deathcough) and he is unnaturally strong. Of COURSE he’s going to take to swords at an early age. He designs his Fusion sword when he’s fourteen and Noctis/Zack splurges his entire royal allowance to get it forged by the royal weapons makers just for Cloud.

-Cloud is there when the Marilith thing happens, it was a road trip playdate that Regis grudgingly allowed.

-Regis shows up in time to see two tiny 7-8 year old children fighting off a Marilith with magic sparking off their bodies like supernovas, Prompto’s eyes glowing an eerie blue as he picks up a dead Crownsguard’s sword and wields it like its a paperweight and Noctis’s eyes burn blood red as he spams lightning spells and whoops like its all a game.

-Regis is Very Sure that neither of these boys are entirely normal. Or sane. But he’s just so glad they’re alive.

-Tenebrae invasion happens without Noctis being there, Luna/Aerith meets Ardyn and promptly begins working her Flower Girl magic.

-Ardyn may or may not show up at the Citadel two years later with Oracle kids in tow, looking to defect and feeling 120% more sane since taking to wearing Luna’s flower crowns and walking in the garden in the rain with her (hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge).

-Noctis spots Luna, hurtles up at top speed, and announces to all and sundry that HI. HE’S NOCTIS. HE’S GOING TO MARRY YOU.

-While Regis tries to explain art you can’t just SAY THAT, Luna kneels down to be eye level with the now younger love of her life and tells him that if he still wants to marry her when he turns 19, then she will gladly oblige.

-Cloud and Ardyn hold a staring contest during which Ardyn rapidly puts together some pieces about the Chosen King child, the Oracle, and this little escaped Lab Boy and starts cackling like a lunatic.

-BAHAMUT YOU’RE IN FOR A WAKEUP CALL.

-Also at one point Titus and Prompto are alone in the same room for like- twenty minutes because Prompto is hiding in Titus’s office. Titus and him hold a staring contest before Titus’s lips twitch and his eyes flicker an eerie green.

-“Hello Cloud,” he purrs, “You aren’t angry I’m here?”

-Cloud crosses his arms and huffs goodnaturedly, “Who do you think talked Minerva into kicking your moping butt out for a second chance, Sephiroth? Also, if you’re using that creepy armor under your skin as an excuse to hurt Zack and his family-.”

-“Never,” Sephiroth says firmly, “I have been the slave of my experimenters before. I have no desire to be so again. I currently feed Regis information gleaned from General Glauca and only give the Empire non-information cleared ahead of time by the king.”

-“Okay then.”

-“Indeed.”

-And that is the start of the Glaives living confusion fever dream where they keep walking in on their Captain holding the WEIRDEST conversations with a Smol Child (or Children, Noctis gets in on it too) that range from insult contests and mockery of each other’s sword techniques to deep, soul-searching questions of existence and magic and how it relates to the soul.

-Nyx would really like it if life could start making sense again pls. These never happened before Prompto Argentum came along.

#SE asks #oliverslewty asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Clouds and Moonlit Skies verse

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cherrybloomn · 5 years ago

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Delicate - Chapter 3

Note: ok Chapter 3 is here. Your opinion is always welcomed (criticism included!). Its my first stoey ever so please be kind. I know I have much to work on, but I hope that it will get better and better.

I would like to thank very (VERY) much @musings-sans-muse and @shellbilee for your support, help, ideas, everything! You girls rock!!

Thank you @oddsnendsfanfics for your encouragement!

Warnings: swearing

April 2020

Naomi spent the whole March shooting her show in Berlin (as there was a theatre festival) and preparing the charity event for children. She managed to schedule everything– the place (Hyde Park), the catering, the guests. Obviously, everything was cancelled due to coronavirus restrictions. Everyone was forbidden to go to the tv studio, so Naomi worked on the new scripts of the episodes, watched movies, wrote reviews of new plays, etc.

Since their last lunch, Naomi had been regularly in touch with Henry, mostly via WhatsApp. They have met a couple of times. The more she talked with him, the more she liked him. He made her laugh. But not only that. He seemed to care about others, yet had this reasonable attitude - often saying that you can’t change the world alone.

She valued him for being the voice of reason. They have known each other for only two months, yet she told him a lot about her family and difficult relationship with her father (who was a real - life spitting image of Logan Roy from The Succession), her issues with James, her weird fascinations of criminal stories about murderers and disappearances and the II World War.

One day she had just come home and put the groceries on the kitchen island, when her phone buzzed. She picked up the video call. Henry. The thought of seeing his face and talking to him always shifted her mood. “Hello boy. Give me a moment I need to wash my hands. I’ve just been out in a bad, bad store.” She giggled and headed to the bathroom with her phone, placing it next to the sink.

“Of course. I can see your tits now, by the way. No worries though, I enjoy the view.” He chuckled lightly. Naomi rolled her eyes and quickly moved the phone to the higher counter. She took a minute to study Henry’s face. Something was off. She couldn’t tell if he looked sad or tired. It was off though. She was wondering why. In this very moment she also realized that he was one of very few people, who were… important to her. Not in a romantic kind of way. No. Naomi didn’t date, she didn’t want to build a relationship with any man, not anymore. Still, he was important.

“Helloo..” Henry waved his hand from the other side of the screen.

“I’m sorry. I thought of my round, perfect, little tits. Changing the awkward subject, how are you doing in times of isolation? You look tired. Is everything ok?” Naomi dried her hands with a towel, grabbed her phone and headed to the kitchen. She placed her phone on the kitchen island, leant on her elbows and focused on the phone screen.

“I’m fine. A bit anxious I think. Not my best day today. That’s why I’m calling. I expect to hear some entertaining story about your crazy childhood.”

She laughed, and thought for a moment. “I’m not in the mood today. You know, I almost got a role in the Moulin Rouge musical in the Old Vic. I mean I did get the part of Satine, and I was so excited, as it would be my debut after all these years. Unfortunately, they called today that due to the lockdown, the project has been entirely called off.” She shrugged “At least Netflix doesn’t disappoint. There’s the Money Heist premiere today.”

After a second she added “Join me today! Look I know it’s illegal, alright? But I can promise we will keep the two – meter distance. I can offer you good whiskey and whatever meal the chosen restaurant could provide. Except for pizza and other carbo shit. I’m on a low-carbo diet. You know I’d love to say I’m one of those women who can eat everything because they’re so cool and don’t care about their looks or have a wonderful metabolism. But unfortunately, I’m not them. My metabolism is my enemy and I do fucking care about how I look because the CEO of BBN asks about my weight like once a month.” She smiled at him “So, take it or leave it.”

“I take it. I can cook something if you want. Oh, can I take Kal with me?”

“Cooking – ok. Sounds cool. Kal – Henry, in general of course. But you need to keep in mind I’ve got two Pomeranians – and as much as they love people and small dogs, they sometimes hate the big ones. So, bring Kal with you and in case there’s war, I’ll take Marilyn and Audrey to my neighbor.”

They discussed the details about the dogs’ meeting and decided to meet at 6 pm. Naomi took her time to call her mum and friends, take her dogs for a walk and take a shower. Afterwards she applied a bit of makeup, put on her black Nike leggings and white tank top. She let her hair loose so that it could dry quickly. Just after she poured herself a glass of water, her phone buzzed and Henry informed, he’s waiting outside with Kal. Naomi called her dogs and all of them headed to the small park near her apartment. Naomi couldn’t stop laughing when she spotted Henry with the Salvador Dali mask on – a kind of tribute to Money Heist, which they were going to watch.

Unfortunately, just as Naomi thought, there was no love between Kal and Marylin. At least Audrey accepted the big bear immediately. Naomi decided to take Marylin to her neighbor, and the rest of them headed to her place.

Much to Naomi’s surprise, Henry cooked a delicious dinner, and they spent the whole evening watching five episodes of the Netflix series. Being her kittenish self, Naomi gently touched Henry’s knee with her toes from time to time. “Heey… relax.” She said with a smile. “I can tell you something nice, wanna hear?”

Henry raised his eyebrow and looked at her with a smirk “Go on, entertain me.” He gently rubbed her ankle with one hand, the other one was supported on the back of the sofa.

“Alright..” Naomi closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the delicate massage. Finally she looked him in the eyes. She smiled shyly and turned her face away, “Henry.. Do remind me please, is your dad a boxer?” She asked coyly.

Henry seemed a bit puzzled “No, no. Have I ever said that he was?”

“Well no...but damn, I’m asking because you’re such a knockout!”.

They both burst out with laughter.

“What a cheesy pickup line, I love it! Where do you know that from?”

Naomi started to play with her hair “Well, it happens to me all the time” she joked. “It’s nice to see you laughing.” She added after a second.

At around 3 a.m. they decided it was really late, so they were to terminate their evening with just one glass of Jack Daniels (due to her diet Naomi didn’t drink alcohol, but promised to have a goodbye drink).

Naomi brought two glasses to the living room and sat on the sofa. Henry was sitting on the opposite side. Once Naomi extended her hand and handled him a glass of whiskey, he slowly grabbed the glass with one hand and held her wrist with another. “What a massive rock!” He said, looking closely at her two - carat diamond engagement ring. He gently caressed her knuckles with his thumb. His touch, ever so gentle made Naomi shiver. Something about it felt so wrong and so right at the same time. “Has James proposed to you? I had no idea”. Henry let go of her hand and supported himself on the back of the sofa.

“No, of course not. It’s an engagement ring I was given by my husband. I often wear it.” Naomi didn’t like to talk about her marriage with anyone. She felt very comfortable with Henry and they talked about many personal things, but she never mentioned her married life.

Henry slowly nodded. “You never talk about your marriage.” He took a sip of his drink and after a couple of seconds asked “Do you still love him?”

Naomi zoned out for a second, focusing her eyes on the floor. Her hand tried to retrace Henry’s touch on her knuckles. This touch. So delicate. It was one of the most intimate moments she’s ever experienced. Why was it so intimate - she didn’t know. She had had a lot of sex lately. Mostly with James. James never touched her this way. Why? Why had nobody ever touched her this way, she thought.

“Naomi.” Henry’s low, but soft voice snatched her out of her thoughts. She looked at him with slightly parted lips. What were they talking about? Oh, right. Her ex-husband.

“Do I love my husband? Because I wear the engagement ring? No. Not at all. I just love expensive jewellery with big diamonds.” She chuckled looking at her engagement ring. “That’s the secret. But no. I have no feelings for my ex - husband. As for why I don’t talk about my marriage, there’s just nothing to talk about. I was 20, he was 34 at that time we got married. I wanted to be an actress, he was a serious entrepreneur. I wanted to run away from my mum, who was trying to take over my whole life, and he was looking for a young woman to build a home with. At some point it didn’t work out. We had a nasty divorce and division of assets. He then moved to Moscow, and as far as I know he still lives there. The end.”

Naomi refilled Henry’s glass with whisky, Naomi willed herself to focus back on the conversation and not on the ghost of his touch that lingered on her skin. “What about your love life, Mr. One Hundred Questions to Naomi Poesy?” She asked and winked at him.

“You know how it is Naomi. It’s just hard to get involved with someone, if you have this kind of job. It’s all about either accepting my schedule and traveling with me, or building a long – distance relationship. It hardly ever works. Also…”

Naomi suddenly held her right hand up in a stop gesture. “I’m sorry, but I just have to interrupt here. That sounds like you’re trying to find a justification. I mean – and I’m really sorry for sharing my opinion unasked – but building any relationship is hard in general. Do you really think your situation is any different from a situation of CEOS or anyone who has a career, money and power? The scale may be different but the issues are all the same. I mean a CEO of a big insurance company does have the very same problems. He asks the same questions - if his new other half is with him because of his status, money, position or because she’s in love. And the schedule thing – sure it’s hard to build a relationship when you’re on the set for a couple of months and it literally consumes all of your time. Trust me though, it’s not easier if you work as a physician or a lawyer, or if you work in a big tv corporation like I do. Instead of being on the set for a couple of months, people work their asses off every day, because they have loans to pay, plans to realize. And they usually don’t have any breaks. The fact that you get back home to your other half after 9 pm does not necessarily make your relationship better. It’s just the matter of what you’re expecting from a relationship.”

Henry just nodded and added after a moment “I just want to have a family of my own.”

“Well. But this is not the answer to the question of what you are expecting from a relationship. I mean, obviously everyone wants to start a family. The question is – what does it mean to you? Some want to start a family because they hate to be lonely, some feel like they need to take care of others, and some just feel like it makes them feel complete. You know sometimes you meet the person you resonate with, you feel the great chemistry with, but it just doesn’t work because of lots of other factors like the timing, circumstances etc. So, what I mean is that you really need to know what you expect from your partner so that you can fight for it.” She thought about what she said for a minute “Hm.. it sounded much wiser in my head before I verbalized it.”

Henry laughed and looked her in the eyes licking his lips. That gentle touch. After a few seconds of glancing at each other she smiled at him and shyly turned her face away. “Ok, enough. Don’t try to charm me here.” She grabbed her phone from the coffee table. “Man, it’s 4 am! I’m not surprised I’m bubbling something half intelligent. I should be sleeping already, I have promised to help Sarah tomorrow morning. This morning. If you want to you can stay, I have a guest room and a spare toothbrush.”

“Thank you, but I guess I better get back home.” He grabbed his phone and ordered an Uber. “I just have to say” he started as they both stood up and headed towards the hall. “You are so tiny without high heels!”

She laughed “No shit Sherlock.”

“No, but seriously. I wanted to say” he stopped there and looked at Kal. It seemed like he was fighting with his thoughts whether to verbalize what he wanted to say or not. “I really like spending time with you.”

Naomi crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t date Cavill.” She said with a smile.

Henry just nodded and leaned towards her, so close that their faces were just inches away, and said “Well, pity.” He chuckled and leaned even closer to give her a goodbye kiss on a cheek “Bye, girl. Get some sleep.” He then took a step away and called for Kal, who was already bouncing on his legs ready to go.

Naomi reached to open the front door for them, but instead of doing it, she turned towards Henry and leaned against the door. She noticed his clenched jaw, then placed her eyes on his lips and eyes. She slowly grabbed the drawstring of his hood with her right hand and wrapped it around her fingers. “Hey.. I don’t, but what would you do if I did date…?” she asked playfully. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

“Naomi..” Henry smiled lightly at her, and tenderly touched her cheek, moving his fingers from her cheekbone through her lips to her chin. He was slowly studying her face. Naomi looked at him stunned, her lips parted, she was not expecting that.

“I’m 37. I’m too old to play this game. Please, don’t play with me.” He stroked her cheek once more with his index finger and stepped back. He fastened Kal’s leash. In the meantime Naomi unlocked the door and moved back.

“Goodbye” He gave her a warm smile and left.

Naomi quickly closed the door and tried to understand what had just happened. She felt all the emotions at once - arousal, humiliation, sadness, anger, happiness. She brushed her fingers through her cheek. That gentle touch. She took a deep breath. In her entire life Naomi had always been the “tough guy” - first in ballet school, at home, when her mother suffered from depression, and Naomi had to take care of her mother and her brother, then drama school. Establishing her position in television was not easy either. Oh, and her marriage. She was just a girl when she got married and her older husband always knew better. The random men she fucked after she got divorced. James. They all wanted to have her, possess her. And she kind of liked it. It made her feel attractive and in charge. But that touch was somethings new.

Naomi felt the tears welling in her eyes, as if for the first time in her life, she experienced such a gentle touch. And it felt so good.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x other female character #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #slow build

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37-children-of-the-dreams · 4 years ago

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Day #33: Mine

The WiFi issue strikes again! I swear if the WiFi is the reason my Chem finals tanked, I will into a Sith Lord! Kylo Ren who? I will take his lightsaber and destroy my dorm in a fit of anger.

(P.S. If Korkie could have been Rey’s grandfather while being Obi-Wan’s son, then the Kenobi linage once again got caught in Skywalker drama. This bloodline can not get any peace.)

———————

Korkie snorted as he slowly woke up. He had a vision of a young girl with dark hair and strong connection to the Force. She held her hand up to Korkie and called him “Grandfather” to which he laughed to the point of waking up. There was no zero chances of him having children. He was in a committed relationship with Crosshair, who was male, and he’s pretty sure any child of his would have a nasty childhood.

That is unless Bo-Katan doesn’t change her mind and leave him alone. Then, his child would just have a life filled with bounty hunting. Which is still a harsh life for a child.

Also, he's not yet comfortable with asking Crosshair if he wanted children. He knows Crosshair's personality is not exactly child-friendly, but considering how patient he is with Fennec and how cordial he was with Nanny Rana and the Shands, Crosshair might just be a great father. That is until the kid starts using toothpicks to look cool, then it's over for Korkie's sanity. He's not willing to spend money on a kid's toothpick addiction. That was what Crosshair is for.

Speaking of Crosshair, Korkie looked up and smiled. He wasn't dreaming that Crosshair was with him on their king-sized bed.

"Our bed," Korkie thought.

He giggled, but quickly stopped. He didn't want to wake Crosshair up. He knows how much his man has worked himself making sure they all have enough money to live a life full of bounty hunting. Yet, Korkie was a little late. Crosshair woke up and smirked at Korkie's blushing face. He poked Korkie's forehead to let him know they're both awake.

"Nice visions?" Crosshair asked.

"Well," Korkie said. "Not much. The vision this time was rather confusing."

"How?"

"I'll tell when I'm confident about something."

Korkie got up and stretched his limbs. Crosshair got up and stretched with him. Stretching helped Crosshair balance some movement. He might be the best sniper from the GAR, but somethings due to his mutation had made him time his movements and how to make his aim straight.

"What's eating you up this time?" Crosshair asked.

"Let's just say it involves something that happens after marriage," Korkie replied.

"Oh, I didn't know you can have dirty visions."

"It wasn't that. It's something else and I really don't know if we're there yet."

"Few more months left. Just say it."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes."

"Like if I was shot, you're still calm afterward absolutely sure?"

"Maybe, but I haven't got you shot to death yet."

"Fine. You ever thought about children?"

Crosshair stopped stretching and looked at Korkie. He wanted to be sure this wasn't a fake question. He needed to be sure Korkie could not be lying. And Korkie's face told him he wasn't.

Crosshair blinked and pondered the idea. He was always wondering about what would been his life once the Clone Wars ended. True, this life with Korkie now was certainly not what he was exactly expecting on life choices, but he did say he wanted to be a bounty hunter since this was what his skills can do best. Yet, having a family was another idea he never thought about. He's not the best person to be next to because of his personality and he's not willing to make a child feel isolated because no likes their father.

"Never," Crosshair admitted. "You of all people should remember that the entire galaxy hates clones. Up until I met you, I never thought of having a family I made myself."

"Oh," Korkie said. "Sorry for forgetting that. I just thought that since the War might one day be over, you could have a chance to settle down with someone."

"Korkie. Even if the War had ended and I could have a family, I'm not a good man and I might make my children's lives unfair."

"If you're such a bad person, then why am I still here and not a bounty?"

Crosshair smiled. "Was having a family in your visions?"

"Not exactly. I just saw this girl. She looked at me and wanted my hand. She said 'Grandfather' and I just woke up. I thought it was insane. I mean, we're both men, and the entire Mandalore system is against us! How in the Maker's name are we able to raise a child and have a granddaughter from them if there is so much chaos in your lives?"

Crosshair pat his back and lead Korkie out of their room. Crosshair didn't know what to think about the vision. Korkie was right when it comes to his points. He knows Mandalorians can just adopt, but raising one to adulthood and ending up with a granddaughter? That's going be a miracle with every enemy being created if they keep their bounty hunting lives for a long time.

"Crosshair?" Korkie whispered.

"Let's not think about that now," Crosshair said. "We're way too young to have a granddaughter."

"What granddaughter?" Fennec asked.

Fennec left the ship in autopilot and went to the bunks to check on Korkie and Crosshair from time to time. She knows they finally shared the 'secret room' and was not really wanting to heard anything raunchy for now. Yet, why did Crosshair say 'granddaughter'? Were they thinking of expanding the family? Like right now when they're just a new couple? How fast were they willing to take their relationship?

"No," Crosshair said. "I know that face. And no, we do not have a granddaughter on the way."

"I just had this weird vision," Korkie clarified. "Saw a girl saying that I was her grandfather, but visions are not always reliable."

"Okay, but you know you can adopt right?" Fennec pointed out.

"Way too early," Crosshair said. "Also, not married yet?"

Crosshair pulled up his hand and then grabbed Korkie's hand to show that they do not have any rings to signify a wedded life. Fennec put her hands on her hips.

"Then, get a ring."

Fennec left the men speechless as she piloted the ship again. Crosshair got out of the bunks leaving Korkie behind, went to his pilot's seat and glared at Fennec. Fennec raised her hand in what Crosshair knows as the 'You Started It First' gesture. It's basically ingrained in his mind what it meant but it still angers him.

"I never was raised to be a family man," Crosshair admitted. "The Kaminoans were not the best people to talk about sex and marriage. Many clones have never seen a woman with huge breast until they turn ten and were off to war. You really think I know anything about being married?"

"No," Fennec laughed. "But you're not ten anymore. You're whatever age you are now."

"Fourteen and a half," Crosshair counted.

Fennec gasped at Crosshair with her mouth open. Korkie was five years older than Crosshair through technically? Crosshair was actually younger than Fennec by four years? Crosshair was just a minor?

"This is why I never like telling people my age," Crosshair added. "Yes, I'm a teenager, but do not ever think I can't have a drink because I'm a clone."

"So wait," Fennec said. "If you and Korkie were to just adopt a teenager right now, wouldn't you be a teenage father?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Then never mind about your future granddaughter. You'd be the youngest grandfather she'd have."

"Isn't that already a given?"

Fennec laughed at the though as Korkie finally got out of the bunks.

"Why is Fennec laughing?" Korkie asked Crosshair.

"You're fiancé," Fennec giggled. "Is five years younger than you by technically."

"Yeah, I know. He told me. Yet, why is that funny?"

"Because if you have a granddaughter one day, then Crosshair might still be in his thirties when she's born."

"Maybe, but if we have a kid, you're babysitting them."

Fennec stopped laughing and Crosshair snorted.

"Oh, and I'm just thinking about this, but if we're having a girl one day, her name might be Sarad."

Crosshair burst out laughing. He's not going to disagree. He'd love a little flower that would call him buir.

#korkie kryze #korkie kenobi #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair #fennec shand #the bad batch #star wars

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pesewla · 5 years ago

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For the writing request, maybe a short fic/headcanons for tykillen having a secret relationship?

“Sleep well, Allen!” Lenalee called as Allen turned the doorknob to his room. He aimed a small smile at her and waved, secretly glad at the chance for quiet after such an exhausting day.

“You too, Lenalee,” he said. He pulled open the heavy door and disappeared into his room. It’d been refurbished the day before, so as he flicked on the lights he still was caught off guard - the wider, fluffier bed, large desk complete with several quills and a tank of ink, and gleaming white bathroom were all several times more exquisite than what he was used to.

He’d trained more rigorously today than he had for weeks, and his limbs were beginning to pulse and ache. Allen ran a hair through his white hair and grimaced at how his hand came back streaked with grime. Shower, he thought instantly, before he noticed the calculating pair of gold eyes staring at him from the shadows. Allen’s chest tightened infinitesimally.

“Tyki,” he murmured, wondering how thin the walls were. The man was seated crisscrossed on his bed, his long black hair let out of its pin and draped over his shoulders. He looked entirely too comfortable, at least to Allen. “I told you not to visit me at the Order anymore.”

The Noah’s face lit up instantly, as if he were pleased to just be acknowledged. “And when would you have me visit, then?” he asked smoothly, gaze aimed hungrily at Allen.

Allen scowled. “Never!” he exclaimed, voice rising in pitch. “Or, at the least, just on missions. Not in my room. I’m an exorcist.”

Tyki smiled, and Allen bit his lip to stop any unwanted reaction. “Oh, but it’s that much more fun to infiltrate the Order. I just have to walk through a few walls. Who knew it was so easy?” Tyki practically purred, and Allen wanted to smack the look of self-satisfaction off of his face. He noticed for the first time that Tyki’s coat was hanging on the coat hanger by the door; bastard had made himself at home.

“You’ll keep saying that, until you’re caught,” Allen mumbled. He shrugged off his own heavy jacket and rolled his shoulders, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit him like a freight train. “I know you’ve been here a few times, but for all I know, they bugged my clothing today.”

Tyki gripped his knees, leaning forward. His eyes never seemed to leave Allen’s face, taking in his movements like he was watching a performance. “And yet you claim to trust the Order so deeply,” he joked.

“Why are you here again?” Allen asked impatiently.

“I haven’t been getting much action lately. I’m bored. Plus, I just wanted to see a pretty face.”

Allen rolled his eyes. “You haven’t been getting much action because you killed all the exorcists,” he accused.

Tyki shrugged, leaning back a little and looking at Allen narrowly. “On orders. At least I don’t torture children.”

Allen winced. “That’s not funny,” he said.

“I won’t have many more chances to get caught here,” Tyki lamented, his mouth pressing together into a hard line. “That’s why I’m here, anyway. I want to warn you.”

Allen froze mid-stretch. From outside, a voice beckoned, “Walker-sama! Do you need any more towels or shampoo for your new room?”

“N-no!” Allen yelled back, voice rising in pitch – if they come in and see Tyki, we’re both dead – but he heard the maid’s footsteps recede quickly. He expelled a breath. “Warn me?” he prompted Tyki.

“The Earl is coming to dislodge you from the Order, any day now. Most likely Sunday or Monday. Prepare yourself.”

Allen walked forward and then promptly faceplanted into his new, fluffy bed, right next to where Tyki sat. His heart was pounding in his chest and he detested how much fear he really felt. He especially hated he had been struck with such deep, pervasive terror by simply hearing the words “the Earl”. Allen was pathetic.

“Why…? Why is he coming? He can’t make me leave…” Allen’s voice, muffled by the blanket, sounded too much like a disillusioned child’s. Maybe he was just a disillusioned child, after all.

Tyki placed a hand on the small of Allen’s back, and Allen shivered, before relaxing and accepting the touch. “He wants you. He wants the Fourteenth.”

The younger boy thought his heart might stop in his chest; it took a moment before his voice came back to him. If he weren’t already lying down, he might feel faint. “He knows? You know?” Allen said, voice very small. Tyki didn’t answer, but Allen knew the answer, and his heart sank again.

Allen felt another hand go around his shoulders, and with a deft movement he was pulled up into a rough sitting position, then into Tyki’s lap. Almost against his will, Allen found his face buried in Tyki’s hard chest. He frowned, face still hidden. “Don’t treat me like a doll,” he scowled.

“Don’t be a doll, then,” Tyki said, a hard edge to his voice. Allen started at how Tyki could shift from soft and seductive to hard and murderous in less than a second. He felt like he could get whiplash. “You will lose. To the Earl, and to the Fourteenth. I came to tell you to get your act together, boy.”

“Why?” Allen asked again, beginning to pull away from Tyki. Tyki kept him held fast in his spot, pulling Allen even more closely to his chest. Allen squirmed, even toyed with the idea of activating his Innocence, then decided against it. “Why are you telling me this? Why do you try to help me? You serve the Earl, yet…”

“I serve the Earl, but I also serve my own interests,” Tyki interrupted him, and began to stroke Allen’s dirty hair. “These are my interests.”

He waved the air above Allen, a little sarcastically. Allen thought he heard a knock on the door and tensed; then the moment passed and still no one entered. Thank God. Tyki stared down at him, eyes a touch cold. Given that Allen was totally immobilized in his lap and pressed against him, his mind screamed danger, even as his body melted against Tyki’s. “You’re just like me, boy. Just remember this – when it comes time to fight the Fourteenth, don’t fight fire with fire. You’re too soft and gentle, so you’ll always lose. You need to hang onto what makes you human.”

Allen was quiet, and Tyki seemed content to allow all movement in the room to stop, save for his slow combing of Allen’s hair. Allen carefully filed Tyki’s words away, somewhere in the cabinet of his mind labeled “Unexpectedly good advice”.

Still, the coldness blooming in Allen’s chest was starting to overtake the heat offered by Tyki’s body. Then Tyki spoke again, and the silence shattered. “In any case, I’ll be there to make sure you live up to my expectations. And where are you bleeding?”

“Hmm?” Allen asked, having gotten a little swallowed in Tyki’s musky perfume. I’ll be there, he says, Allen mused. “I’m tired. I’m -”

“I got that part,” Tyki murmured, and his slight laugh shook Allen’s whole body as he rested against Tyki’s torso. “I asked where you were bleeding. I can smell the blood.”

Allen felt Tyki’s warm palm move up the length of his arm until it landed on his bicep. Tyki’s long fingers felt around gingerly, and Allen made a noise of pain in spite of himself. “Ah, this is a nasty cut,” Tyki breathed. “Under your skin. Idiots at the Order can’t even treat their exorcists’ wounds?”

Allen made a face. “When I was training, I had an accident… And a group of finders came back badly injured this morning. I didn’t want to add to the clinic’s troubles,” he admitted.

“Ridiculous,” Tyki hissed, a little too sharply. Allen could swear that his gold eyes dilated like an animal’s, and the feeling of danger returned. Tyki’s murderous intent was as transient as it was intense. Then Tyki’s voice returned to the quality and consistency of burnt honey. “I’ll have to treat it for you, then.”

“You don’t have to,” Allen whispered, but he was powerless to resist as Tyki effortlessly lifted him up and carried him to the bright new table in his room, with a little plaque that read first aid. Tyki gently placed him down on a chair and then stood directly behind him so that his lanky arms enveloped Allen’s body as he worked. Allen felt his sleeve get rolled up and he winced as the first round of disinfectant was spread across the wound.

“No one else can help you,” Tyki laughed. Allen thought that maybe he wasn’t just talking about the first aid. A wave of sleepiness swept over Allen, and his consciousness wavered. “But I will… Hey, boy, don’t fall asleep just yet, you still have to shower. Of course, I can also help you with that part.”

“Tyki,” Allen mumbled. A shudder ran through him as Tyki spread salve over his bicep. “I’m scared. Of losing to him.”

“That’s not like you at all,” Tyki said, placing his chin on Allen’s shoulder lazily. He pressed a light kiss to Allen’s jawline, and Allen closed his eyes once again, feeling safe for the first time in a while. “Didn’t I tell you I’d help you? I’ve got Joyd under control, after all. Though you do seem to have a knack for incensing Noah memories.”

Tyki kissed him again, this time on his neck, so Allen finally turned to face him and kissed him softly and slowly on the mouth. Tyki made a disgruntled noise, but still didn’t break away for several moments, just tasting Allen. “…Don’t be so excited, boy. Let me finish your bandaging.”

A moment passed, and Allen felt Tyki tie a bandage over the cut and pat it lightly. Allen hummed, eyes still shut, Tyki still draped over him possessively. For just that moment, the horrible prospect of being caught kissing a Noah was lost to him. “…So, boy, am I going to have to bathe you after all? Because I won’t let you fall asleep so filthy.”

Allen paled, and broke away from Tyki’s embrace roughly. “Don’t be stupid, Tyki!” he shouted, and then ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Tyki snickered and settled back onto the bed again, lighting a cigarette as the faucet began to run.

#dgm #my writing #d gray man #allen walker #tyki mikk #dgm spoilers #tykillen #tyki x allen #poker pair #very sickly sweet lol #noah clan #tykillen kinda kills me #this is set right before the alma arc btw

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griimreaping · 5 years ago

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A study in Headcannons: Jean Masters edition

This is a compendium of all the headcannons I could find that I’ve posted on my blog and a few that I hadn’t managed to write out yet. Gives some finer details on Jean and overall adds to her story.

There is a small weathered brown leather sketchbook in the front left breast pocket of her work jacket that has a hand-carved wooden pencil bound to the side. Inside the yellowing pages, you can find increasingly detailed sketches of the targets that she’s been given to kill. This book started when she had turned 18 and the first entry is of a stoic and serious-looking man, this would be her father. It’s not particularly well-drawn, though there’s one part of his face that she’s seemed to have spent the most time getting correct and it’s the piercing stare the man wears. A few of the drawings have color put in key places like lips, eyes, or facial tattoos though most are in regular pencil. Maxamillion’s sketch has a small note scratched onto the back that isn’t in Jean’s handwriting and it reads “Studying your target gets you one step closer to killing them.”

Jean had quite a few tattoos and one iron brand that had gotten taken off when she lost her arm. These tattoos are the major identifying features of her along with a nasty healed bullet wound scar just below her navel.

Jean was actually entirely homeschooled by her father, and while she’s not a superstar at math she’s pretty intelligent in the street smarts sort of way. Max thought that practical skills were much more important than anything they were dishing out in school so he made a point to teach both his children the arts of protecting yourself, smooth talking, and hitting a target from a click away the basic stuff. So sure, she’s a smart gal but calculus is a mystery.

While her occupation and previous trauma have steeled her emotionally Jean is actually a soft person underneath all the walls and locks. Some part of her aches for a person to just hold her and tell her things will be okay. She internalizes a lot of emotions and guilt from her past and when it’s dark and quiet those thoughts and monsters crawl up out of the woodwork.

Night terrors and insomnia are common plagues of the woman keeping her from getting sleep a majority of the time. The few times that she’s had restful sleep is when she’s in the arms of someone else. And I’m not talking like a one night stand or anything like that, I mean that she trusts this person enough to just melt into their arms and fall asleep. Her work takes a lot out of her and she’s just tired.

Jean has two boats. One is currently dry docked in Morrocco while the other is a 67-meter superyacht by the name of the Sea Widow which is the base for most of Trinity’s mobile operations.

Jean is technically a multi-millionaire. With about 250 million in offshore accounts and floating among various proxy accounts so dirty money can’t be traced. For the most part, she lives rather lavishly.

Jean has been married twice. First one lasting for a few years before the toll of her lifestyle took too much out of the man and he divorced her and left the country. Jean abides by his wishes and does not keep tabs on him.

Her second husband had been a double agent and had her kidnapped and tortured for two weeks which ultimately ended in her losing her arm and her killing him after she’d escaped.

Jean has spinal compression from various hard falls and the connective tissue in her knees is pretty beat up. There are occasional phantom pains from her missing arm and the tissue around where the metal connects to her body gets irritated when not taken care of properly. Partial hearing loss in her left ear from an explosion. There are patches on her body where she has little feeling due to previous injuries, this is most prevalent on her back and left side.

For a minute she had a dependency on painkillers, though after some tough self-discipline Jean got herself away from them and now prefers not to take them if at all possible. She’s tried to stop smoking on several occasions but found that it just made her temper terrible and her hands shake with the withdrawals so she’s gotten down to half a pack a day.

If you were to look around Jean’s home you would notice that there’s a lot of spackled over patches here and there. This is because she forgets the strength of her metal arm from time to time and has put holes in the walls. One of the largest holes that had happened was when she had been trying to hang a painting and she put the entire hammer through the wall.

Weapon of choice is a Remington CSR, collapsible and powerful it’s great for both long and medium range. While the short range stuff is kept to super 625 .45 revolver ( just in case her target decided to hide behind a tank ) or a trusty KBAR knife that’s been lovingly sharpened and oiled.

Multilingual Jean can speak four languages fluently and a handful of others to a conversational level. English, Spanish, Russian, and Arabic are her main languages simply for business sake with those being the biggest contenders.

In the Monster Hunter verse, Jean is unable to fully die. She will sustain harsh enough injuries and enter a state of in between. Due to a pact that she’d made with the grim reaper in her younger years, though when her time finally comes and she fulfills her mission Jean is given just enough time to spend a few moments with her family then simply fade from existence.

Jean can play two instruments, guitar, and piano. She was taught how to play the guitar by her brother Stephan when she was younger, it kept her mind from other things and gave Stephan and her something to do together to avoid their father. The piano she had taught herself after she’d lost her arm in an attempt to gain finer finger dexterity back after the accident. The piano helped her combat the phantom pains that she experienced frequently in the beginning and it also allowed her to become used to the new appendage.

Not a day goes by that Jean doesn’t think about her brother. Stephan had been her support and guardian from her father’s rage and beatings for most of her childhood after their mother died. When he ran away after he turned 18 leaving the then 14 year old Jean alone with the husk of a man that was their father Jean never quite forgave him. It’s this acidic hole in her chest that burns her up inside. There are so many questions that she wants to ask him most of them starting with why. Why did he leave her without saying anything? Why didn’t he take her with him? Where did he go? Where did you go? Jean runs this old film reel over and over in her head at night

Jean wanted kids. She really wanted to be a better person for them and grasped for that white picket fence life for so long that when she had gotten shot in the stomach and had her internals so badly damaged that it ripped that away from her, the woman didn’t really ever recover. There are times where the assassin absently traces that scar on her stomach thinking about everything that could have been.

Dreams are less of night terrors and more like glimpses into a different life. Sometimes it’s hazy memories of picnics with the whole family when her mother was still alive. Sometimes its visions of taking her kids to go see uncle Stephan who lives somewhere in the mountains. Though waking up is always the same, leaving this harsh ache in her entire body when she realizes that all of those dreams are just dreams.

There had been moments when Jean wished she failed in killing her father. Knowing that the consequences would have been her own demise she silently wonders what would have happened. If there was such thing as an afterlife could she have watched the man that had once been a rock for their family fall apart under the knowledge that he’d killed his only daughter and drove his son out of the home? Jean has always wondered.

#‘ﾟmusing » JEAN MASTERS — ❝ don’t try to think and lets not pretend ! ❝#headcanons

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pendragon50 · 5 years ago

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Chapter 2: An Angel to the Rescue

Here’s Chapter 2 of Lovebirds in Gotham, my Arthur Fleck fanfic. Hope you like it! :D

The clown spun the large yellow sign this way and that, twirling it as easily and gracefully as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Painted on the sign in large black and red letters were the words: EVERYTHING MUST GO!! He was performing beside Kenny’s Music Shop, a small business no one seemed to be paying much attention to as they strolled past. It was like the shop was invisible.

Arthur didn’t let the smile on his face disappear. When he wore his clown costume and bright makeup, he slipped into a different identify entirely. On that cloudy morning, he was no longer Arthur Fleck, but a happy clown who’d stop at nothing to spread joy and laughter to the world.

On his right, an old man played a piano. Arthur shifted his feet in tune to the song, letting the music guide him.

When a father and his two children walked past, Arthur lifted the sign high above his head in a dramatic fashion. Making a silly face at the kids, the boy chuckled. The girl clapped her hands in evident delight. Pleased by their responses, he stomped his jumbo red-and-blue shoes, mouthing the words, “If you’re happy and you know it, stomp your feet!” Both kids immediately stomped their feet, watching the performing clown with obvious excitement.

The unamused father, meanwhile, scowled at the clown and nudged the kids to keep moving. The little girl stole a quick glance over her shoulder. Arthur frowned briefly, but wiped his frown away, reminding himself that he was a happy clown. You've got a purpose, he reminded himself: to spread joy and laughter to the world. Forcing his lips into a broad smile, he held up one hand and waved at her in a friendly, silent “bye!”

Carnival.

That was Arthur Fleck’s clown name. It had been his clown name in the many years he’d been a party clown.

His smile widened as he recalled how he’d come up with the name. Growing up, he’d always longed to visit a carnival. A magical place chock full of sleepless fun – what greater place was there for a kid? But his mother had always struggled, financially, to support she and her son, so Arthur had never taken even one step inside a carnival. He could only imagine what it would be like to bite into a crisp, sweet candy apple, brave a thrilling roller coaster, to see nightly fireworks of all colors light up an evening sky. At thirty-five, still he longed to visit one, but times were hard. Life was difficult enough as it was; he could barely afford the apartment he and his sick mother currently lived in.

For now, he could only keep dreaming.

People of all sorts passed by Carnival as he danced to the music. In the sea of faces, Arthur noticed expressions of every kind.

Impatience.

Frustration.

Boredom.

Arrogance.

Apathy.

So much negativity. It didn’t matter what face he looked to; it was all the same. A never-ending sea of negativity. Gotham was a city weighed down by such hopelessness, Arthur was surprised the city hadn’t yet crumbled.

As one spindly woman strode towards him, Arthur offered her a toothy, clownish smile. As expected, the woman ignored the smiling clown and picked up the pace. Though he wanted nothing more than to spread joy and laughter to the world, it was somewhat difficult when the world didn’t seem to care.

But he couldn’t stop trying. He refused to.

It’s a new day, he thought, injecting as much positivity into his brain as he could. Considering his head was filled with enough negative thoughts, he knew the importance of digging deep for even the smallest bit of positive thinking.

Kids, at least, always seemed to enjoy Carnival.

That is, most kids.

Carnival was spinning his sign over his head. Up and down, left and right went the sign, the focused clown slowing his pace for not even a second. Too absorbed in his sign-twirling, he didn’t notice the group of teenagers strutting directly for him. Only when he heard a cocky voice call out to him did Arthur swallow nervously.

Trouble was on its way.

“Yo, what’s up with your shoes, bro?”

He’s talking about me, thought Arthur, his chest tightening with fear. He’s definitely talking about me. He’s gonna...gonna... He hated thinking of what might be in store for him. Afraid of sending his gaze elsewhere, he focused only on the sign. The guys approaching him were the very definition of troublemakers. The way they carried themselves, the smug smirks glued to their faces – it didn’t take a genius to see these teens were hungry for an extra large helping of trouble.

And Arthur Fleck was on the menu.

“Hey, if you’re gonna be a clown,” the same voice shouted with a sneer, “at least you can be a good one, you know that, right?”

WHACK!

Poor Carnival had no time to react. The only noise that slipped from his painted lips was a startled, surprised, “ahh!” One minute he was spinning the sign round and round, lost in the world that was Carnival the Clown’s. The next it was knocked right out of his grasp. Lightning quick, one of the teens grabbed hold of the sign and bolted off, the other boys sprinting after him. Arthur reached out desperately for the sign, only to slip like a clumsy, confused camel.

“Hey!” he shouted in a hoarse voice.

Just like that, the chase was on.

Arthur knew he’d never catch them. Running in his jumbo clown shoes was not like running in comfy running sneakers. But he couldn’t let these kids run off with the sign. If Kenny came out and realized his sign was missing, the blame would fall all on Arthur and Arthur alone. Not to mention his unfairly strict boss, Hoyt, would not be pleased. The man had already given Arthur many chances. One more disappointment, and Arthur feared he’d lose his job at Ha-Ha’s before he’d have time to so much as blink.

“STOP THEM!” he hollered. Over and over again he called out for someone, anyone, to notice the pleading clown.

But they didn’t.

Because no one cared.

No one cared anymore.

“Come on, Clown!” the oldest guy taunted, laughing meanly. “We got the sign!”

Arthur ran as fast as he could, his lungs aching the faster he ran. Being a heavy smoker, it didn’t take much for him to get out of breath. But it didn’t matter. He was responsible for Kenny’s sign. He had to get it back.

Down the busy sidewalk Arthur ran. The teens kept looking back at him, the sneers on their faces refusing to die. How he managed to avoid knocking into people, Arthur wasn’t sure. With unexplainable speed, he weaved in and around men, women and children, praying he didn’t tumble and crash to the ground and break both his legs.

“Where’s your sign, Clown?”

In your hands, thought Arthur miserably. Determined to get his sign back, Arthur raced out into the busy street, not realizing at the time how dangerous a thing this was to do on a busy Monday morning.

BEEEEEEP!

Arthur cried out in alarm as he barely avoided being slammed into by an oncoming car. A few steps forward and another vehicle slammed on their breaks. The embarrassed, fear-stricken look in his eyes went unnoticed by the peeved driver, who honked harshly at the clown. Before Arthur hurried off the street, the cabbie rolled down the window to yell out, “Watch where you’re going!”

Arthur felt his legs starting to cramp. He doubted he could run much longer until his fuel tank ran out and he’d have to stop. His lungs were screaming for air with each step he took.

Faster, run faster! he thought in a panic, quickening the pace. The teens were a few yards ahead of him. Again and again Arthur pleaded for them to give back the sign, but his efforts were in vain. No way were they returning this clown’s sign willingly. If the clown wanted his sign back, then he’d have to take it from them.

Down the sidewalk Arthur ran, pumping his aching legs as fast as he could. He couldn’t let them get away! More than once he almost tripped, but somehow, he managed to stay on his feet. The longer he ran, the more it seemed he’d never catch these speedy kids. It was like a tiring, terrible game of Tag, and Arthur was It. They were simply too fast for him. Between not being as young as he used to be and wearing shoes not at all fit for running, how in the world was he supposed to catch them?

“SLOW POKE!” one guy yelled, laughing at the insult.

The other boys chimed in with equally-mean remarks of their own.

“FREAK!”

“IDIOT!”

“Stop them!” Arthur shouted, feeling as invisible as a ghost. A few people strolling by cast him quick, curious glances, but nothing more.

Seeing the guys disappear into an alleyway, Arthur sped forward.

“HEY!” he yelled, nearly tumbling onto the grimy sidewalk. Wasting no time, he sprinted down the alley, relieved that he’d finally get his sign back. The group was standing beside a dumpster, sneering and making faces at the approaching clown.

“You fuckers!” Arthur panted.

So out of breath, Arthur didn’t notice the sign had disappeared. In the seconds it took for this to finally occur to him, it was too late. Out from behind the dumpster stepped the oldest teen, his face lit up in a satisfied grin. Up, up, up went the sign, right over poor Arthur’s head.

Then, with a sickening WHACK, down, down, down came the sign on Arthur's head. The boys cackled as the broken pieces fell to the ground. Even harder they laughed at the defenseless clown now at their feet.

“Come on, beat his ass up!” the oldest boy ordered.

Knowing what was coming, immediately Arthur shielded his head with his hand. The other he slipped between his legs, knowing one kick was all it took to cause serious damage down there. Having no chance of fighting off predators, all he could do was protect his head and privates as best he could.

“This guy’s weak!” Arthur heard the leader shout. “He can’t do nothing!” How many times those nasty kids kicked Arthur, he couldn’t say. Judging by the sharp pain radiating through his body, it felt like fifty. Though with how frail he was, even a few kicks or punches felt like a mountain of pain, pushing down upon him.

“Harder...HARDER!”

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard. Frantically he tried thinking of something happy. He imagined himself sitting cross-legged on his mother’s bed while the two of them watched their favorite TV program, The Murray Franklin Show; dancing in his living room as he let the music in his soul free and watching the smiling faces of kids as he sang “If You’re Happy and You Know It”, danced and made balloon animals for them.

Think of happy things, he thought, tears welling up in his eyes. Happy...happy...happy.

That was when he heard a voice.

Not a cold, cruel voice like so many in cold, cruel Gotham.

No, this voice banished Arthur’s fears instantly. The moment it reached his ears, he felt an unmistakable sense of comfort wash over him.

“Get away from him!”

Arthur’s eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for things to snap into focus. What he saw were the boys standing round him, staring in disappointment at the woman now a few feet away from them. Her mouth hung open in palpable shock.

“M-Mrs. Speck?” the boys shouted in unison. There was no masking the shock on their faces; it was as clear as the clouds in the sky.

“Is this what you boys do when you’re not in school?” she scolded. “Going around beating up on someone like it’s some kind of...of”—she let out a disgusted scowl—“joke?”

The boys said nothing. The oldest one merely stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, mumbling sulkily.

“And speaking of school,” the woman went on, staring sternly at the busted teens. “You should all be in Mr. Blackburn's class right now.” Her eyes fell on the bleeding clown, whose face was stained with tears. Arthur stared up, open-mouthed, wide-eyed, wondering if he’d somehow slipped into dreamland. "Though I guess math's just not as fun as beating up on a total stranger...is it?" She crossed her arms, saying, "Bet you weren't planning on coming to my class, either, huh?"

Arthur's eyes widened. This was the woman from the subway! She was even wearing the same pink turtleneck! A week had passed since that night. Since then, more than once she’d slid into Arthur’s mind. And now here she was, coming to his aid like an angel from the heavens. Too tired and dazed to lift his head off the ground, he laid there, staring at nothing else but her. She was scolding the teens, but Arthur couldn’t help taking in the sight of her.

She was small and skinny, like himself. Seeing her more close up, he couldn’t say for sure how old she was, but he guessed she was somewhere in her twenties. In this dark and dingy alley, her flamingo-pink turtleneck seemed to shine with color. If this was all only a dream, thought Arthur, he only hoped he could hold onto the image of this woman, whoever she was. He didn't want this precious picture to fade.

“I hope you know your parents will be hearing about this,” she said firmly. “This is beyond unacceptable! And don’t think Principal Parker won’t be giving you all a proper punishment. This kind of behavior is disgusting!"

Saying nothing, the group left. A few muttered sulkily, but most kept quiet. The oldest boy threw the woman a peeved look, but didn't dare say anything.

A moment later, the boys were gone.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but coughed painfully. He groaned softly, laying his head back on the wet pavement. Still he hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman. How had he managed to bump into this same woman, one whose name he didn’t even know? After wishing he could see her again, it seemed, somehow, amazingly, his wish had come true.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said quietly, rushing to his side. She locked eyes with the clown, shaking her head empathetically. “I’m a teacher at Hillridge High. Those...those boys are always getting into trouble at school."

“You,” Arthur uttered softly. “You saved my life.”

The woman’s gaze softened. Staring long and hard at this clown, it took only a moment for the light bulb to go off in her head.

“The...the subway,” she whispered in realization. “You’re the clown I saw on the subway last week.”

Arthur nodded, wincing slightly. His entire body was a throbbing, tender mess.

“You saved my life,” she told him, her quiet voice mirroring his own. For a moment, it looked like she might tear up.

“We saved each other’s,” Arthur commented, offering her a small, tired smile.

She returned his smile with one of her own.

“Guess we did.”

There was a brief pause.

“You’re hurt,” she said, looking Arthur over with palpable concern. “We have to get you to a doctor. You might need—”

“T-that’s okay,” Arthur answered softly, struggling to sit up. With the woman’s help, he managed. “I...I’ll be okay.”

“But you’re bleeding!” she cried, her eyes flickering to the blood at his feet. “You really should see a—”

“Nothing’s broken,” Arthur assured her. His face scrunched up in discomfort. Yes, he was bleeding, but it wasn’t anything a wet facecloth at home couldn’t fix. If he could just make it back home, he could clean himself up in the bathroom and rest on the couch.

The woman bit her lip. “Are you sure?” she said finally, eyeing Arthur’s bloody lips with a frown. “I’d be more than happy to drive you to a hospital.”

Arthur smiled in appreciation.

“That’s sweet of you,” he said kindly, feeling suddenly shy. He wasn’t used to anyone showing him such kindness. It was such a strange, but absolutely wonderful feeling. Despite his aching body, never had he felt so...happy. “B-but I’ll be okay...really.”

For a minute, neither Arthur nor the woman said a word. From outside the alley, the noise of honking cars, arguing pedestrians and barking dogs was all that could be heard.

Finally, the woman asked him, “What’s your name?”

“Arthur,” he answered, sounding like an innocent boy meeting a pretty girl. “Arthur Fleck.” Always in the mood for a joke, he put on his most clownish smile and added, “Well, actually right now I’m Carnival the Clown!” He squeezed his squeaky clown noise. It sounded like the horn on a child’s bicycle. “What’s your name?”

She smiled briefly. “Aubrey.”

Aubrey. Arthur replayed the sound of her name in his thoughts, loving the way her voice sounded. It was soft, like birds chirping early in the morning on a spring day. It was comforting, like the world’s most comforting blanket, one that’s fleecy and wraps around you on a cold winter’s night. He’d heard many sounds in the many years he’d been a resident of Gotham: the sound of one’s fist punching him in the face, the cruel laughter of those who showed him no empathy, fighting in the streets late at night...the list went on.

What he heard in Aubrey’s voice was that of an angels’ voice. No, she might not have had fluffy wings white as snow, or a shiny yellow halo hovering over her head...but what Arthur saw when he looked at this woman was an angel.

Just as quickly she was frowning again.

“You're in pain,” she said, focusing on his face. Arthur might have said he was fine, but his grimaces told her otherwise.

He sighed wearily. “It was just a bunch of kids,” he said, sounding visibly guilty. “I should have left it alone. Maybe if I hadn’t chased them for my sign, they wouldn’t have—”

“Wait,” she interrupted. “They stole that sign from you?”

Arthur shrugged silently.

“It’s completely their fault, Arthur!” she argued, laying a hand on his arm. “Don’t go and blame yourself for what they did. Those boys have gotten suspended more than once. Not surprised they went and did something like this but...but no way is this your fault. Okay?”

Arthur nodded meekly.

She’s beautiful, thought Arthur, unable to take his eyes off her. Not just physically, he thought, but beautiful for what she’d done: saving his life. Unlike the countless people who passed him everyday, indifferent to his endless suffering, she had noticed him. More than that, she cared. She could have easily ignored the suffering clown in the alley, but no, she’d noticed...and done something to help him. She didn’t have to help me, but...but she did.

“I-I’m kind of embarrassed,” Arthur said in a low voice. He dropped his head, his red lips sinking into a large frown. “I’m a grown man, I...I should have been able to fight back or...or—”

“But it was five against one!” Aubrey exclaimed. “They had you outnumbered. And it’s not like we’ve all got black belts and can defend ourselves.”

After a moment of unbroken silence, Arthur was back on his feet.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he told Aubrey kindly. “You didn’t have to do what you did. Those guys could have come at you, but you...you still helped me.” He fixed his sea-green eyes on her, his expression morphing into one of deep curiosity. “Why?”

“You needed help,” was her simple answer. “Not enough people in this shitty town help each other. Most only care about themselves.”

The words not you fluttered through Arthur’s mind. You stopped to help me. Again the word angel popped to mind. Never could he have expected to meet an angel when he set out that morning for work. Having met only uncaring devils, such an enormous, but wonderful surprise it was to have had an angel come to his rescue.

“Well, thank you again,” said Arthur, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. “I...I’ll just go wait for a bus to take me—”

“If you, I mean,” Aubrey started awkwardly. “If you want, I”—she ran her fingers through her long black hair. Arthur watched her, saying nothing. He wasn’t an expert in many things, but he could tell when one was feeling nervous. “I could drive you home, if...I mean, if you—”

“Oh, no...no, I couldn’t have you do that,” Arthur said. “You’ve already done enough. And...and anyway, I...I have to fix Kenny’s sign and get it back to—”

“Don’t worry about the sign,” she said, helping him pick up the broken pieces. “I can help you fix that. I’m sure with some glue and tape, we can at least put it back together."

“Really, you don’t have to,” Arthur quietly argued. “You’ve already done so much for me. I’m sure I can”—He grimaced as a bolt of pain ripped like knives through his shoulder.

“Where do you live?” asked Aubrey, holding him steady.

“Winslow Avenue,” Arthur said, gritting his teeth together. He was trying not to let on how much he was hurting, but there was no hiding his pain. “Near Robinson Park...”

“That’s perfect, then,” said Aubrey. “I’m on Winslow Street, too. I can drive you home.”

Again Arthur said under his breath, “You don’t have to do that.”

Aubrey’s cheeks flushed cherry red. “It’s okay. I...I want to."

She can’t be real, thought Arthur in denial. This can’t be real. I’m just dreaming. I’m gonna wake up and this’ll all be gone.

Aubrey’s car was parked on the opposite side of the street. After helping him across the street, Arthur found himself seated in the front seat of her small car. Dangling from the rear-view mirror was an air freshener. He inhaled, catching the definite scent of cinnamon. He wondered if she liked baking. As she settled in beside him and started the car, he suddenly felt shyer than ever. Here he was, a stranger, sitting in the car of a woman who’d shown him more kindness than anyone. He didn’t know what to say or do. He just wasn’t used to people showing him even an ounce of compassion.

What if she's not a smoker? he thought nervously. Being the heavy smoker he was, Arthur couldn't shake the smell of smoke from his clothes. What if the smell bothered her? What if she kicked him to the curb, telling him to find his own way home? He wouldn't have blamed her if she did it. He wished he had some cologne on him, something that could help mask the smell of nicotine.

Much to his surprise, she said nothing. Perhaps the smell didn't bother her? Or maybe, he thought, staring at her like a little boy with with an unshakeable crush, she's just a nice person.

When she drove off down the street toward Winslow Avenue, again Arthur told himself this was all a dream. A wonderful, too-good-to-be-true dream.

But even so, if it all truly was a dream, it was the most beautiful dream he’d ever had. And however much longer it lasted, he wanted to enjoy every single second of it.

Though he was in pain, he wasn’t thinking about this. He closed his eyes, letting a sleepy, relaxed smile spread across his face. For the first time in his life, Arthur Fleck felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

He felt safe.

#arthur fleck fanfiction #joker fanfiction #arthur fleck #joker #romance fanfiction #amwriting

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apatheticabstractapotheosis · 6 years ago

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An Itsy Bitsy Spider

This is the backstory to my fanwalker Mother who first appeared in the story ‘Rabbit Stew’ I wrote for @bace-jeleren and how they came into being. Please note closer to the end the narrative gets a little disjointed and there is off-screen death of a child.

Valeska looked dubiously at the tank. “You’re sure this is safe?” She asked the attendant biomancer.

“Of course, Lady Valeska, this is the finest in Simic biomantic technology, cutting edge research went into the creation of this vat and only three others exist. Rest assured Lady, it is perfectly safe.”

“I should expect so with the money I’m paying.” She sniffed, turning to face the crab-man. “We are agreed on the payment, three thousand zinos now and another five thousand upon a successful conception.”

“Yes of course my Lady.” He bowed deeply though not without some mockery in the gesture, making fun of the way lesser members of the Syndicate would bow and scrape to the higher authorities.

“Excellent, your payment then.” She reached into her cloak and withdrew a large clinking bag which she passed to the biomancer. “You’ll find it’s all there.”

“Oh, I have no doubt Lady Valeska.” He knew well enough that even though the contract may have small print, an oligarch’s word was binding.

“Good, and don’t forget: this is off the books.”

“Yes of course, now if you could disrobe and enter the vat, I can begin the procedure.” He pressed a small indent on the wall and the door slid smoothly open. He then turned around as Valeska began to shed her clothes, folding them neatly and placing them in a small alcove and stepped into the vat. There was a slight squelching as the door closed on her, tinting the light a sickly green.

“Please try to relax Lady Valeska, the procedure is virtually painless but will take some time.” The biomancer’s voice was muffled as his indistinct shadow fiddled with things around the sides of the vat. Then, a seeping ooze started to flow into the chamber, rising rapidly. Valeska could feel panic rising in her chest as the liquid started to reach her neck. “Don’t worry Lady, the mutagenic solution is breathable.” The biomancer’s voice called in as Valeska was fully covered in the ooze.

It was an odd, rather unpleasant sensation, breathing a liquid, yet here she was, suspended in a Simic vat, about to take the first step in changing her life for the better. She closed her eyes and remembered all she’d been through to get here. Having to scrape and save every last zib whilst still maintaining the illusion of opulence.

Ha! Soon she’d be leaving the Syndicate for greener pastures, literally. The Church of Deals was no place to raise a baby after all. The Selesnya would take her in and she could raise her child in peace, away from those ghosts and the thrull and those money-grubbing aristocrats. There wasn’t a better time to desert than now either, what with the Obzedat deposed and the inexperienced new guildmaster Kaya busy trying to consolidate power, no-one would notice a minor oligarch vanishing.

It was just within her grasp, after all these years of trying, she’d finally be a mother.

*---*

“You’re sure that this is safe right?” Ravik asked, looking sceptically at the tank.

“Of course it is, older means more reliable doesn’t it? Also, you get what you pay for.” The biomancer reassured the nervous elf.

“I suppose… I’m still not so sure about this.” Ravik said warily, now eyeing the giant spider in the large vat beside him.

“Look friend, you told me you were getting edged out by bigger stronger workers, ogres who can lift ten times what you can. With this you’ll be the most wanted worker in the business. Just think, you’ll be strong, you’ll be able climb better than anyone else. Extra limbs too, who doesn’t want extra limbs? Not to mention the silk, strong as steel, perfect for hoisting stones up to the tops of towers. I guarantee you; this will be the best decision of your life.” He looked expectantly at Ravik having finished his spiel.

“Alright then, I’ll do it.” He finally agreed.

“Marvy, now there’s just the matter of payment. Hmm, I reckon 500 zinos should cover it, the labour and the capture of the spider and what not.” Ravik groaned in annoyance and reluctantly pulled out his money bag and just tossed the whole thing to the biomancer.

“There should be enough in there.”

“I believe ya. Now if you just get your kit off, we’ll get you in the tank and start things going.” He heaved open the heavy door to the tank whilst Ravik shed his clothes and left them in a pile, it wasn’t like they were going to fit him afterwards. Gingerly, he climbed into the tank, and with a creaking groan, the door closed behind him and was sealed.

“Okay, we’re starting now!” The biomancer called out cheerfully, playing with several of the buttons, sending a flood of liquid into the tank. “Now let’s see adjust this, change that and- uh-oh.” Wait, uh-oh what did that mean?

“Hey, let me out!” Ravik started banging on the glass to no avail.

“It’s fine everything’s fine, if I just vent some fluid from upstairs, I can stabilise this.” The biomancer mumbled, fiddling some more then throwing a lever. A massive gush of liquid fell from the ceiling into the tank, completely submerging Ravik as he pounded away at the door.

Then, there was nothing.

*---*

Flashes of memory swam in and out of focus.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You just drained a client of mine into your experiment vats.”

“Hey! I didn’t know, no-one was scheduled to be up there!”

“Well no-one was scheduled to be down here either, this equipment is highly unsafe.”

“Yeah well…”

Darkness. Then more voices.

“What is this?”

“Something I found, some sort of binding agent, helps bind species together. I was trying to cut costs”

“You idiot! Don’t you recognise cytoplasts? This stuff came from Project Kraj!”

“Oh, oh no…”

“Oh no exactly.”

“So what do we do?”

“We should report this to the guildmaster at once or…”

“Or what?”

“Both these jobs are off the books, right? We flush it. It’s too early to be survive outside the vats. We flush it into the undercity, no-one will be any the wiser.”

“Okay.”

*---*

Hungry, so hungry Valeska opened her eyes, where am I She tried to stagger to her feet, but they weren’t working like they should. Water, she was parched and hungry. Crawling painfully towards the sound of running water, she leaned over to drink and saw herself reflected there. What happened to me?

Her face, so perfect before, the results of several contracts was now marred by a pair of mandibles bursting from her jaw to frame her mouth and her eyes were now solid black. Shrieking in fear, she tried to scrambled away, only her body refused to move properly and she collapsed back only now able to see the rest of herself. Her legs were gone, fusing instead into the body of an enormous spider, its chitinous body plates extending up to cover her torso and arms.

She was a monster.

So she screamed, it was all she could do and the Undercity echoed with the sound of her lament.

*---*

Something was happening on the surface, people were descending into the Undercity, fleeing something. Valeska did not know how long she’d been down there with only that hunger that lingered at the back of her mind, her memories of before fading with each day. She’d survived on rats and whatever beasts she could catch as she tried to come to terms with her new existence. My new existence as well. The other voice, so whiny. Not like the one that hungered, for what she did not know, but no matter how much she ate, it was never sated.

“Hello? Is someone down there?” A high-pitched voice called down her tunnel. Had she been talking to herself, to the other voices again? I have a name. Carefully, she unfolded herself from her nest and peered up into the dim light at the entrance. A small boy, no older than five perhaps, stood there sniffing. Something oddly familiar rose in her gut, mingling with the ever-present hunger, something protective and nurturing.

“Yes, child. Are you lost?” She called back, still lurking in the shadows a little, unwilling to scare away the poor darling with her appearance.

“Yes! My mommy got caught by the nasty blue men as she sent me down here and now I’m all alone.” Came the boy’s plaintive cry, plucking at her heartstrings.

“Oh you poor, poor darling. Tell you what, I could be your mother now. How does that sound?” She remembered vaguely now, she was going to be a mother. The maternal instinct warmed her breast, rising from her stomach with the incessant hunger intertwined. It was like fate had delivered a child to her to look after, to be the best mother.

“Will you?”

“Of course darling, now come to Mother.” She beckoned and the child unsteadily clambered down into the shadows. What’s happening, what are you doing? “Hush now, darling, you’re safe here, Mother will make sure nobody will ever harm you again.” No you can’t do this HUNGRY SO VERY HUNGRY. Valeska will keep her child safe, Mother will keep him safe.

A war, going on above, planeswalkers fighting and dying. Her child’s knowledge flowed into Mother and oh, Mother wanted to help them so, she could keep them all safe. They could help keep them all safe, the hunger demanded it. No, I will have no part of this.

“We are one now, and soon we will be one with our children. We are Mother so we are in charge and you have no choice.” They snarled to themself, we are not one, I’m me I’m Ravik. The protests grew feebler and feebler as Mother asserted their dominance and the annoying voice faded away completely. They were in control and they would save all of their children.

“We are Mother.”

#fanfiction #fanwalker #mother

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daedalcs · 6 years ago

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A study in Headcannons: Jean Masters edition

There is a small weathered brown leather sketchbook in the front left breast pocket of her work jacket that has a hand carved wooden pencil bound to the side. Inside the yellowing pages, you can find increasingly detailed sketches of the targets that she’s been given to kill. This book started when she had turned 18 and the first entry is of a stoic and serious looking man, this would be her father. It’s not particularly well drawn, though there’s one part of his face that she’s seemed to have spent the most time getting correct and it’s the piercing stare the man wears. A few of the drawings have color put in key places like lips, eyes, or facial tattoos though most are in regular pencil. Maxamillion’s sketch has a small note scratched onto the back that isn’t in Jean’s handwriting and it reads “Studying your target gets you one step closer to killing them.”

Jean had quite a few tattoos and one iron brand that had gotten taken off when she lost her arm. There is a dragon winding up the side of her thigh and across her ribs, along with an all-seeing eye on her right shoulder that is the mark of her company Trinity. These tattoos are the major identifying features of her along with a nasty healed bullet wound scar just below her navel.

Jean has two boats. One is currently dry docked in Morrocco while the other is a 67-meter superyacht by the name of the Sea Widow which is the base for most of Trinity’s mobile operations.

Her second husband had been a double agent and had her kidnapped and tortured for two weeks which ultimately ended in her losing her arm and her killing him after she’d escaped.

Dreams are less of night terrors and more like glimpses into a different life. Sometimes it’s hazy memories of picknicks with the whole family when her mother was still alive. Sometimes its visions of taking her kids to go see uncle Stephan who lives somewhere in the mountains. Though waking up is always the same, leaving this harsh ache in her entire body when she realizes that all of those dreams are just dreams.

#*|| .・。.・゜THE DEVIL YOU KNOW ・゜・。.MUSING #Some good information in here #super long post though #head cannons #headcannon

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surrounded-by-superheroes · 7 years ago

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The Soldier and the Assistant

Summary; You run into a mysterious stranger on the street while running late for work and spill coffee all over yourself in the process. Later, you find out the man was none other than James Buchanan Barnes and your company is about to write a story about him. The thing is, he’ll only talk to you. As you get to know one another, you both start realizing this relationship is a little more than work. Will both of you let the romance bloom? Or kill it before it starts?

Author’s Note; This is a lot of fun and I love writing fun stuff. Want to be tagged? Tell me. Much love, your author.

Warnings; Language, work harassment.

Words; 2,149

Chapter One

Coffee

“Ah, fuck.” I murmur and hear sniggers behind me. Turning around, I see dissatisfied parents staring at me while their children laugh at my cursing. “I am so sorry.” I apologize and instantly fly to the barista when my name is called. After hiking my purse further up my arm, I head over and grab the little thing that holds four coffees.

“You’re late again.” Adrian is kind enough to remind me. My breath leaves my lips in a huff at the comment and the clinking of change in the tip jar kills my already aching head.

“Thanks, asshole. See you this evening?” I phrase it like a question but don’t have time to wait for his answer. The grumpy parents continue to stare at my bumbling self as I walk out the door and hurry down the street. “Fuck you too, rude asshole parents.” The insult escapes my lips and drifts away on the breeze while I dodge people walking on the New York streets. “I’m late, I’m late, I’m late so I’m fucked, I’m fucked, I’m so fucking fucked.” I continue talking to myself and earn quite a few strange looks. Finally, I see the office doors and breathe a sigh of relief before running coffee first into someone’s chest. I bounce off and release the coffee, landing hard on my ass. Then, the coffee comes down on top of my lap. “Aw, fuck.” I groan as the brown, hot, liquid seeps into my blue button-down shirt and black slacks. As quick as I can I straighten the coffee cups in their little holders, but find one is missing. At last, I look up at the hulking figure I ran into.

“Are you alright?” He asks in a deep voice like gravel and offers me a hand. I take it and feel the roughness contrast with my hands as he raises me up. Slowly, I nod, feeling the amount of liquid in each cup.

“Well, the cold isn’t bothering me anymore and I have enough coffee left for me to last a couple hours, so sure.” I respond and button my jacket with one hand so I don’t look too atrocious.

“This coffee is all for you?” He asks incredulously, blue eyes widening so the blue is even more apparent. I’m still looking around for the missing coffee cup, but take a moment to look at the handsome stranger. No idea how he managed to escape without a drop of coffee on him.

“Three for me.” I correct him and check my watch one more time. “Look, I’m sorry about the bump, but I’m horribly late.” I excuse myself and get ready to walk away, but an insistent hand on my arm makes me pause.

“I did manage to catch one…” He tells me with a very slight amused smile, holding out the cup with a gloved hand. Weird, his other hand doesn’t have a glove on. I take the cup and nearly scream.

“Oh, thank god. This is my boss’s coffee! You just saved my life!” I tell him and duck under his baseball cap to kiss his scruffy cheek. “I love you, stranger. Thank you so much!” I pat his shoulder and scurry into my building. The elevator is luckily open and I duck in, nearly running over a poor intern. “Sorry!” I apologize and hit the twelfth floor. My foot taps up and down as we go up and I’m pretty sure the tiny girl in a pencil skirt behind me is about to gouge my eyes out, but luckily the doors open and I’m out like a shot. My flats hit the tile floor quickly and repetitively until I’ve finally reached my boss’s office. My steps slow and I enter the space quietly. Jim’s blond head is bent over as he scribbles down something on his notepad. Gingerly, I set the cup to the right of his laptop on the little coaster there and start walking out.

“Hey, I need copies of the uh, uh…” He waves a hand in the air as if the idea will magically fly into his head if he just waves enough.

“Jennifer’s report? You’ve already got it.” I tell him and gesture to the left side of his desk. His hazel eyes widen and he reaches over, laughing slightly when he reads the title.

“Well, you are the best. Thanks for the coffee, by the way.” He tells me and I nod once, taking this as his dismissal of me. I head to my desk and sit down with a sigh, putting my head in my hands a moment. The wet feeling of my clothes makes me feel nasty, so I stand and take off my jacket, then carefully slip off the tank top I have underneath. My nose scrunches up as I set it on my chair, wet side on the back to dry. My button down is thin, so it’s nearly dry already. After making sure it’s still tucked in I shrug my jacket back on and sit back down. The life of a secretary is basically hell, but money is a pretty great thing to have. Plus, running everywhere keeps me in shape. Jim is a big reporter and his name means everything. It is the name at the end of the front page most every day and that’s because he’s good at his job. I worked my way here from the very bottom, but still haven’t had a single story published. Sighing, I look at the folder full of stories I’ve written. Either I really suck or Jim is biased against me. Honestly, I don’t know if that would be an insult or a compliment.

“Hey, get in here!” Jim bids me and I’m up in a second, grabbing a notebook and pencil on my way. I walk into his office but instantly slow when I see he isn’t alone. Steve Rogers is here, as well as the nice stranger from earlier. Now, his hat is off which reveals those burning eyes and shoulder length dark hair. Fuck, I ran into and fell on my ass in front of James Buchanan Barnes. Sheepishly, I shoot a tiny wave his way.

“Uh, yes sir?” I put my attention back on Jim as he stands and walks over to me. He lays a hand uncomfortably low on my back and guides me to the side of the room the soldiers stand on. Both men narrow their eyes at him, but I keep a smile on my face.

“I’m sure you know who these two men are. Gentlemen, this is my assistant.” He introduces me and I step forward out of Jim’s reach to shake both their hands.

“A pleasure to meet you. Thank you both for your service.” I tell them genuinely and shock registers on both their faces before Steve smiles and Bucky smirks.

“Thank you.” Steve nods to me and I give him a smile before Jim’s arm is around my shoulders and my smile disappears.

“I thought you could sit in on an interview and run a byline with me. How about that?” He whispers in my ear and I perk up at his words, forgetting for a moment that he’s touching me.

“A byline. Yeah, yeah. That sounds good.” I manage to squeak out in a voice several octaves higher than my normal tone.

“Great!” I flinch at the volume of Jim’s voice and frown when he kisses my cheek. Discreetly, I wipe it away and gesture for Steve and Bucky to sit down. Steve walks over and does so when Jim sits down, Bucky and I however, both remain standing. His eyes watch me carefully, but switch between Jim and I when he begins to speak. “So, obviously I’m happy to do the story. I’m thinking three meetings. Whatever times and days are the best for you, just talk with my assistant.” Jim tells the two men as I write down a couple things, including questions to ask them later if allowed.

“No.” Bucky’s voice is quiet, but commands the room. All eyes turn to him, but Steve. Steve just sighs. Blue eyes burn into hazel as Bucky stares at Jim, seemingly sizing him up. Bucky is most definitely bulkier than Jim, but they’re about the same height. Jim’s jaw is sharp and there are slight depressions under his eyes from late nights, that’s one thing we share. Now, he leans back in his chair as Bucky glares down at him, making him seem small. “I’ll meet with her in a neutral location until you have what’s needed. That’s it.” My mouth pops open at the ultimatum and I swear I see the corner of his mouth turn up slightly when he glances at me. Jim rubs his hands and lips together as he ponders this. His eyes look to Steve, but Steve just shrugs and lets loose another deep sigh.

“Would you be alright with that arrangement?” Jim asks and looks over at me expectantly. I nod quickly. Jim’s face looks disappointed, but he nods once at me. “Alright, that settles it. Talk and figure out where and when to meet. I’ll notify both of you before the article comes out and send you a draft beforehand. Thank you.” He tells them, then stands and shakes both of their hands.

“I’ll escort you out.” I tell them and stand up myself, standing beside the door as both huge men walk out. Shutting the door behind me, I walk them to my desk first. “Uh, so do you already have a date and place in mind or do you just want my number and we’ll figure it out when you have the time?” I ask, grabbing my phone and letting my thumb hover over my calendar.

“Number please. I don’t have my, uh…planner, with me at the moment.” Bucky, I think he just teased me? It brings a small smile to my face and I rip off two sticky notes, writing my name and number on both.

“Alright, my phone is always on me, so call or text me with any concerns and tell me when and where to meet you.” I tell him and hand both men a sticky note, then offer my hand. Steve shakes it and walks to the elevator with a knowing glance at Bucky. Bucky takes the note and tucks it into his jean pocket.

“Thank you. Try to be more careful with your coffee next time.” He tells me and shakes my hand gently, then walks after Steve. I release a pent-up breath and plop down in my seat. My hand grabs a coffee cup of its own volition and I down it in a few gulps. The cup makes a nice sound when I toss it in the garbage and brings with it the knowledge that I have the energy to complete a day’s work. Especially with two other coffees waiting for me. Albeit, not completely full coffees. I crack my knuckles and sit up.

“Let’s do this.”

* * * * * * * * * *

*Bucky’s POV*

“I can feel your fucking eyes on me, Steve.” I grumble and hear his light chuckle from the fridge.

“Mmhmm. Just like your eyes were on her?” Steve teases and I look up from unbagging the groceries to glare at him, then continue.

“Did you see the way he handled her?” I can’t help but ask him, glancing at him while I hand him things to put away. Steve nods with a frown.

“Yeah, but Buck, we don’t know the whole story. It isn’t our place.” He reminds me and I grumble again, earning an eyeroll.

“I remember saying that to you in a bar in the forties. Do you remember what your small, asthmatic ass did?” I ask, setting the gallon of milk on the counter a little harder than I should. Steve sighs and shuts the fridge door to lean against it. “You got up and punched a two-hundred and fifty-pound man in the face.” The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts and he rubs his jaw where the man then punched him, giving him his third concussion.

“I think I remember someone else throwing a few punches as well.” He tells me, those blue, earnest eyes glowing happily at the memory.

“Someone had to bail your stupid ass out.” I say, finally handing him the milk to put away.

“Times are different now, Buck.” Steve recalls quietly and I sigh at the reminder.

“That’s right. Now, what he’s doing is illegal.” I sass with spite, handing the last bag to Steve to put away.

“What’re you going to do about it, Buck?” Steve questions, leaning back against the counter while I take my phone out. I face him and bring the phone up to my ear.

“Something.”

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