#because he just HAS to know what the cipher says so him spending time on it/taking it in more in order to do so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darlingdaisyfarm · 4 months ago

Note

What do u think dad!Ford would be like? 🥹

☆彡 Ford Pines as a dad :)

★ his past haunts him. Ford is hyper-aware of his own mistakes and he’s terrified of repeating them. if he gets snappy or distant, he always circles back to apologise to his kid. “i didn’t mean to upset you. im still learning how to be better at this.”

★ academic expectations aren’t a thing for him. Ford understands the pressure of being “the smart one” better than anyone, so he refuses to let his kid feel the same weight. they could be an artist, a gardener, or a professional bubble blower, he’ll support them 100%

★ awkward, deeply earnest. he’s the dad who gives his kid a PowerPoint presentation on how much he loves them or offers comfort by saying things like: “i believe your emotional pain is valid and deserves acknowledgment.” but he’ll also stay up all night building a model of the andromeda galaxy for their science fair because he wants them to feel supported

★ he loves teaching them. not in a pushy way, but because it brings him joy to share what he knows

★ he's willing to explain the same thing 20 times if they don’t understand it or sit through the same annoying kids’ movie on repeat because it makes them happy

★ paranoid protector. if you think Stan is overprotective, Ford is worse. he teaches his kid how to build a Faraday cage just in case someone tries to control their brainwaves

★ PROUD NERD DAD. he’s that parent. the one who builds overly complicated science projects for the school fair or accidentally intimidates the teacher by asking if the curriculum includes quantum mechanics

★ Ford has seen things. he’s fought interdimensional monsters and battled with Bill Cipher, so yeah, he’s terrified of his kid getting hurt.

“you can’t go to that sleepover. what if it’s a trap set by extradimensional entities?!”

“dad, it’s just Timmy’s house.”

“just Timmy’s house, you say? that’s exactly what Bill would want me to think!”

★ he gives his kid tracking devices disguised as bracelets and builds a mini forcefield generator for their room. It’s a lot, but it all boils down to one thing: he’s terrified of losing them, like he almost lost Stan

★ notes on the fridge with text “out of milk. also, don’t touch the glowing rock in the lab, it might be sentient.”

★ Ford doesn’t always know how to express affection, but he’s so proud of his kid. hes the guy clapping too loud at the school play, or awkwardly trying to high-six after a good report card

★ i have a feeling he'll insist on preparing the kid for every possible situation, from wilderness survival to escaping an alternate dimension. he turns a simple camping trip into an intense survivalist training session.

“so you see this? this is how you create a makeshift compass using only a magnet and some swamp water. now, repeat it back to me.”

“Dad, can we just roast marshmallows?”

★ Ford knows he’s made some very questionable choices in life. and he’s determined to steer his kid away from making the same mistakes. but he also knows that life isn’t meant to be lived in fear. so he tries to let his kid explore and make their own mistakes, even if it kills him to watch

★ he does these impressions of weird creatures he’s studied to make the kid laugh or making up ridiculous bedtime stories about interdimensional adventures

★ being genuinely interested in whatever the kid loves. they mention liking stars? he’s pulling out telescopes and teaching them how to navigate by constellations. they doodle in a notebook? he’s buying them every art supply and researching the history of visual storytelling

★ if the kid needs help with a project, he’ll spend hours (or days) going overboard. you’ll find him at 2 AM in his study, hunched over a model volcano, muttering about optimizing the lava flow

★ casually mentions his interdimensional adventures at dinner and the kid eats it up because, let’s face it, having a dad who’s basically Indiana Jones with extra trauma is awesome

★ he’s terrified of being a bad father, of not being enough, and that fear can make him distant at times. he overthinks every decision, convinced he’s going to mess it all up. what if he's too much like his father? what if he pushes his kid too hard? but the thing is, he cares, so much. and his kid knows it, even if Ford’s love is sometimes wrapped up in layers of self-doubt and fear

★ if anyone messes with his kid oh, they’re done. Ford may be a nerd, but he’s also a six-fingered genius who’s survived the multiverse. he’ll calmly dismantle anyone who threatens his family

★ Ford's bedtime stories start off like normal fairy tales, but somehow they end as “and so, the starfish rebuilt its missing limb, but it always remembered the one it lost. and it knew that even though it was whole again, some things leave scars you never see.” you’re sobbing. the kid’s sobbing. Ford’s eyes are suspiciously glassy as he kisses them on the forehead and mutters something about needing to adjust the humidity in the room.

★ bonus point if he’s reading his kid a bedtime story, he gets way too into it, doing all the voices and even sketching out illustrations

★ Ford may not be that emotional as his brother, except when it comes to his kid. their first stick-figure drawing? framed in his study. their macaroni art project? encased in glass because he’s convinced it’s a modern masterpiece

★ i think Ford is usually the patient parent. but one day, after hours of hearing “why can’t I do this? why am I not good enough?” from his kid, he loses it.

“you think you’re not good enough? do you know what I see when I look at you? i see someone braver than I ever was, smarter than I’ll ever be and kinder than this world deserves. you are my child, my greatest achievement and if I hear you doubt yourself again, so help me, I’ll—” and then he has to stop because both of them are crying and hugging

★ he insists on teaching the kid “important life skills,” but half the time it’s just him geeking out while the kid watches in awe/confusion “okay now, if you ever find yourself trapped in an alternate dimension, here’s how you build a rudimentary portal using only a toaster and three rubber bands.”

“. . . can you teach me how to ride a bike instead?”

“right. yes. of course. bikes.”

★ and he never stops learning. about his kid, about himself, about what it means to be a father. it’s not always easy, but Ford is nothing if not resilient

★ Ford’s idea of a trip is hiking through the woods with a map and an emergency beacon, dragging his kid along while pointing out flora and fauna. “see this plant? highly toxic. don’t touch it.”

★ his passion for research often pulls him away, but he doesn’t want to miss a thing. over time, he learns to put boundaries in place, to walk away from the lab when it’s time for dinner or to prioritize their soccer game over his latest discovery

#grunkle ford #gravity falls #ford pines #ford pines headcanons #gravity falls stanford #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #gravity falls headcanons #ford x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #stanford pines #stanford pines headcanons #ford pines x you #ford pines x oc

245 notes · View notes

nevadancitizen · 2 months ago

Text

-> CH. 3: THE WEALTHY WOMAN’S BURDEN

synopsis: jayce takes you to meet a councilor friend of his. she's loaded and you're not, but despite the glaring discrepancies, you do your best to strike a deal.

word count: 4.7k

ships: Viktor/isekai!Reader, Jayce Talis & isekai!Reader

notes: i woke up this morning and my index finger was FUCKED UP it's like BENT a good five to seven degrees to the right (painful) so writing may be like a little slower while i figure out what this is ┐(´•_•`)┌

ABoAB taglist: @th3stup1dcat , @patchs-curiosity-corner (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

A BLAZE OF ARCANE BLUE MASTERLIST

It’s been about a week since you came through the hexportal. (Jayce decided that it had a nice ring to it, despite both you and Viktor’s protests that it most certainly did not.) You’re settling in nicely; you’ve organized your dorm sufficiently, you’ve gotten on well enough with Viktor and Jayce, and you’ve met a wonderful young lady named Miss Sky Young, who happens to be their lab assistant.

Viktor was very kind to arrange a blackboard to be delivered to your place. You’ve wanted to work out a cipher between English and Piltovan, but just haven’t had the time yet. The book he left on your kitchen peninsula still taunts you each time you pass by it. You don’t even know its title, or who it’s written by. It frustrates you, like it’s an itch you can’t scratch – yet.

You’ll learn Piltovan. You’re illiterate now, but you just need to learn. And you’re a hell of a learner! Well, at least that’s what you tell yourself when the book almost seems to stare at you when you’re fixing a meal. It’s almost like it’s saying, ‘Look! Look at me, with your uneducated eyes. You live in Piltover now, you’ve gotta speak Piltovan!’

But that’s not important right now. What is important is how the collar on this fancy outfit is supposed to look… Is it supposed to be tall, or are you supposed to fold it down? You’re not too sure. This entire outfit is a bit alien to you, and your university has a fashion program. You’re used to seeing fancy outfits that look a little (or a lot) ‘out there,’ but you’re not used to wearing them.

“Jayce,” you call through the bathroom door. “I – I appreciate the thought, I really do, but… do I really need to wear this to meet her?”

“I’m sure you look nice,” Jayce says, his voice muffled. “Besides, we’ll be wearing matching colors. We need to present as a united front.”

“United front,” you mumble under your breath. You lean over the sink, closer to the mirror, and adjust the oxblood ascot-tie-thing that’s around your neck. “What are we, married?”

A few minutes later, you step out of the bathroom. A smile spreads over Jayce’s face as he takes you in.

Your outfit does, in fact, match his. You’re wearing a mirror of his outfit, almost: a white button-down with a muted red vest, along with freshly-pressed grey slacks and the oxblood ascot-tie-thing (you’re not sure how else to describe it). You insisted on just cleaning up your boots and wearing those because you didn’t want Jayce spending any more money on you. (It makes you feel weird, being indebted to him like this, but he said that since his and Viktor’s technology brought you into Piltover, he and Viktor are responsible for meeting your needs.)

“See?” He says. “You look nice.”

You wrinkle your nose up and force a smile. “Uh-huh. Sure don’t feel nice to be dressed in it.”

Jayce rolls his eyes, still smiling, and leads you out of your dorm. You barely have time to pick up your bag before he damn near drags you out.

The Academy is big and winding, with many halls that lead in loops, hidden shortcuts, and passages that seem to lead to nowhere. You’re glad to have him as a guide – you’re sure that if you got lost, it’d be worse than Christ’s fast of forty days and forty nights.

Finally, the sunlight of early day meets your skin as you step outside. You smile and bring your hand up to block the sun from your eyes. It’s nice and warm without the oppressive humidity you’re used to.

“You gonna show me ‘round your rich city?” You ask Jayce.

He touches your shoulder lightly to keep you walking alongside him. “Maybe we can do that another time. I made an appointment with the Councilor, and I don’t want to miss it.”

You quicken your pace to catch up with him, then slow your walk to match his. Your eyes are stuck on the tall structures that surround you – never before have you been so close to such wonderful, artistic architecture. It almost looks Victorian or Edwardian, in a way. The people sure dress fancy enough to be from those eras. Maybe some of them are?

But the giant boom of a hexgate firing negates that thought. You’re not quite used to it yet, but Jayce explained that the sound was not, in fact, a gunshot, but just the sound of modern transportation. It’s like Piltover is some steampunk’s wet dream come to life: a near-perfect display of retrofuturism. New, freshly-pioneered technology mixed with old-world cogs and steam.

A thought comes to mind. “How old is Piltover, exactly?”

“We just celebrated the two-hundredth anniversary of its founding a few years ago,” Jayce says. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, that’s all,” you say. “The buildin’s look old. I’m not sayin’ they look unimpressive, just that they got a little age on ‘em.”

“You think these are impressive?” He laughs breathily. “Just wait ‘til you see her estate.”

“Estate?” You echo. “She’s dead?”

“What? No,” he says. “I meant her house. In fact…”

Jayce leads you around a corner and holds up a hand, palm-up and outstretched towards a huge mansion behind a tall, wrought-iron gate. This is the Kiramman estate.

“Woah,” you breathe out. “That ain’t a house – Jayce, that’s a little more’n just a house.”

It’s honestly bigger than any other mansion you’ve seen in person. Sure, you’ve seen (and made fun of) a lot of ‘McMansions’ in Texas and California, where too-big houses are built on too-small plots of land. But this one has the proper land and space to be an actual, beautiful, well-thought-out mansion. Even in a semi-crowded city like this, it demands the space it needs and openly exudes wealth and power.

“Well, yeah,” Jayce says. “That’s why I called it an estate.”

You follow Jayce towards the gate, your eyes still stuck upwards at the geometric metalwork that adorns the roof. Two tall spires at the front of the mansion cut into the sky, both surely imprisoning two delicate, fragile Kiramman princesses. You can almost hear them crying out for you from their open windows – ‘Oh, come save us from our wealth! Marry one of us so you can spend our money building the workshop of your dreams. It can be a jeweler’s workshop, or a metalwork studio, or anything else – just spend our exorbitant amount of generational wealth so we don’t have to!’

Jayce talks to the man standing guard at the gate about the appointment he made. The man opens the gate, and as you pass by, you eye the rifle he has. From what you can tell, it’s bolt-action. He’s holding the butt of the gun in his palm and resting the sling stud against his shoulder. He doesn’t look like he appreciates your once-over of him.

You follow Jayce into the foyer. Even the front door handles are fancy and inlaid with gold.

Inside is even grander. You don’t know what else you expected. Nearly everything has gold incorporated in some part of it – the coffee table, the loveseat and the chair across from it, even the railing leading up to the second floor near the back of the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the second floor’s back wall, letting sunlight spill into the room. The gold catches the natural light and makes the room almost glow.

There’s a huge painting in the center of the back wall of, what you presume to be, an outdoor shot of the Kiramman family. A man sits in a chair with a young girl (no more than ten) next to him, and a woman stands behind them, a hand on both their shoulders. A dog, a doberman-looking breed, stands next to the man, its ears tilted forward and facing the girl. The young girl is holding a rifle that’s almost as tall as her. An exotic-looking animal lays in front of the family, dead. A successful hunt.

There is one god-honest truth to be observed here: that the Kirammans are fucking loaded.

You don’t know how it makes you feel. On one hand, it’s amazing. You’ve never been in the presence of this… grandeur. This is only the foyer – you can’t even begin to imagine what a bedroom or bathroom looks like. You’d love to have a quick look around one of their kitchens.

But on the other hand? It disgusts you. The Kirammans could drop a million bucks on a stair railing and it’d mean nothing to them. They probably already did, from the looks of the one leading up to the second floor. It’s an appaling display of wealth and selfishness, a siren playing a soundbite of ‘Me, me, me! Look at me and how rich I am, then look at yourself and how poor you are!’ on an endless loop.

You swallow both sentiments and sit next to Jayce on the loveseat, setting your bag in your lap. On top of being beautiful, the seat is comfortable. You could sleep on it and your back would thank you for it. It kind of pisses you off, but then you realize how stupid it would be to be mad at a couch just because it was made well.

“Are you nervous?” Jayce asks, his voice kind of quiet.

“Am I?” You scoff. “Nothin’ to be nervous ‘bout. Them Kirammans must be… moneyed people, and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. I can handle moneyed.”

You busy yourself with looking around the room again. At second glance, nothing new is revealed – everything is, in fact, as fancy as you thought it was at first. Whoever the Kirammans commissioned to decorate must’ve been given a blank check.

“Jayce!” A voice calls, high-pitched and thrilled and… British? Yeah, her voice is British. How the hell did Britain manage to invade and colonize another universe? (Well, actually… if anyone could manage it, it’d be Britain.)

You turn your head and look towards the stairs. Standing in front of the Kiramman family portrait is the woman from the painting, albeit a bit older. She must be Councilor Kiramman. She certainly looks rich enough to be.

Jayce stands, and you quickly follow suit, holding your bag against you and making sure it doesn’t fall and spill. You watch Jayce, seeing if he bows or curtsies or does anything regal-like that you should copy.

“Councilor Kiramman!” He greets. “How’re you?”

Councilor Kiramman talks as she descends the stairs. “Oh, I’m doing fine. And before you ask, Caitlyn is doing well.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Jayce says. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

A smile crosses her face as she looks your way. Her shoe meets the floor with a click, then her steps are muffled as she moves across the rug.

You set your bag down on the loveseat and hold your hand out for a handshake, introducing yourself and giving your school’s name. She looks at you oddly before placing her hand limply in yours. It’s far from a good handshake, and frankly, kind of uncomfortable.

“They’re from a different part of the world,” Jayce says, effectively rescuing you. “Where they’re from, handshakes are greetings.”

A look of revelation crosses Councilor Kiramman’s face, and she gives you a firm, respectful handshake. You feel the tension in your shoulders melt a little – you haven’t committed an unknown Piltover faux pas (yet, at least).

“I apologize sincerely, ma’am,” you say. “It was foolish of me to think that our social customs were comparable.”

“Oh, your accent!” She cradles your hand in both of her warm ones. “Tell me, where are you from?”

“A…America,” you say. “From the Southern region.”

“I’ve never heard of America,” she says. “It must be a small country.”

“Somewhat,” you lie. “How ‘bout we sit? I can tell you more.”

She nods and you return to the loveseat, resting your bag in your lap again. Jayce settles next to you, and Councilor Kiramman sits in the lone seat across the coffee table.

She crosses one leg over the other at the knee. “So, what brought you to Piltover?”

“I, um… I didn’t have much of a choice, ma’am,” you say. You bring your hands together to better sell the act of the poor, ignorant Southerner, and lie the best you can.

“Was bad people that displaced me. I was up in the North for schooling, but they didn’t want my kinda people ‘round, no ma’am.” You shake your head and look away to the side. “I couldn’t get back down South quick enough, so I hopped on a boat at Nautilus Pier and was a stowaway. I ended up here, and Jayce and Viktor, god bless ‘em both wholly, took me in.”

“Oh, that’s horrible,” Councilor Kiramman says. “Would you like some tea?”

“Um – yes,” you say, a little startled at the sudden change in topic. “Yes, please.”

“Jayce.” She leans back in her chair and her eyes shift to Jayce. “Would you be so kind?”

Jayce spares you a glance, then stands and excuses himself. You grip your bag in a small fit of panic, then let go. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Councilor Kiramman’s voice is quieter than before when she speaks next. “Jayce thinks you’re a beneficiary worthy of backing from the Kirammans. Do you?”

You take a moment to go over your pre-prepared speech in your head, then look into her pale-blue eyes. “Yes ma’am, I do. I’m one hell of an artist – it’s just that my education was cut short. If you take a chance on me, which I sincerely hope you do, I’ll do my damnedest to fulfill any request you make of me. I ain’t got no job, I ain’t got no money, and those egghead boys are nice, but I sure as hell can’t freeload forever.”

Before you can talk yourself down from it, you open your bag and flip your sketchbook open. It was greuling, getting these designs down, but you have something to show to Councilor Kiramman. You turn the sketchbook, then set it down on the coffee table and push it towards her. She leans forward and looks at the page.

“I don’t got no physical proof to show you my talents, due to my quick departure and whatnot, but I hope this suffices,” you say. “I drew ‘em up over the last week or so. Was inspired by hextech – as I’m sure most are. I thought that, as an investor, maybe you’d like to have a set of earrings and a necklace at the next exposition.”

“And what materials would that require?” She asks, her eyes not leaving the page.

“I was thinkin’ a medium-dark blue gemstone. Not exactly dark as iolite, but would still compliment your palette,” you say. “Maybe a nice blue topaz? And it’d be better ‘cause it’s cheap, too. I was plannin’ on makin’ chandelier earrings, and those can get expensive quick, dependin’ on the design.”

Councilor Kiramman brings a hand up and touches her earring, almost like she’s imagining herself with a pair of chandelier earrings rather than the simple drop ones she has on. You can’t tell exactly with the distance between the both of you, but they look like lapis lazuli.

“And what about the designs that aren’t meant to impress me?” Her eyes flick up and meet yours. “The ones you make for yourself?”

You feel your heart almost stop. You take a moment, breathe in, and compose yourself.

“I – I enjoy celestial designs,” you say, like it’s an admission. “My favorite piece I made was a pair of twin gemini earrings. They were so goddamn intricate, I spent two weeks on ‘em… I’m… it’s a shame I wasn’t able to get ‘em when I left. I’m honestly real tore up ‘bout it.”

Councilor Kiramman puts your sketchbook on the coffee table and pushes it towards you. “Show me.”

You look up from the page full of designs meant to impress her and meet her eyes. She’s dead serious. She wants you to draw the twin gemini earrings, and, you assume, recreate them – if she likes them well enough, that is.

You dig around in your bag and thank god you threw a pencil in there just in case. You turn the page and put graphite to paper.

Slowly, a design forms from rudimentary shapes. It’s a silhouette of two almost-naked sisters, both wearing fig leaves, dancing together. Gems represent the stars of the constellation, embedded in each woman’s body, forever joining them.

You push the sketchbook back towards her. “The sisters are made of silver, and the stars – the little circles – are moonstone in a brilliant cut.”

“Not something with more scintillation?” She suggests. “They’re meant to be stars, after all.”

You perk up at that. She knows what scintillation is? Well, she’s rich, so maybe it isn’t that surprising. Or maybe it is, because she could just hire a jeweler to examine and know everything about the jewels she wears.

“Yes ma’am,” you say. “But brilliant cuts are cheaper, and also have a lot less labor goin’ into ‘em. Forgive me if I’m speakin’ outta line, but I do believe you’re richer than most my entire country. I couldn’t exactly afford something with more scintillation, ‘less I cut it myself.”

“And what if I get it cut for you?” Councilor Kiramman looks up from the page. “Would you be able to recreate these earrings if I gave you the proper materials and workspace?”

Despite you considering the possibility of her asking this, you’re still shocked when those words leave her mouth. She’s offering to cover something that cost you almost five hundred bucks to make – maybe it’s pocket change for her, but for you, it is most definitely not.

“What happens after?” You ask. “You gonna take me on as a beneficiary if they��re up to snuff?”

She leans back in her chair and makes a noncommittal gesture with one hand. “I need to see your talents actualized before I take the risk of investment. I’ll decide when you show me the final product. I’m sure you understand.”

You nod. “Yes, ma’am. I know you got artists knockin’ down your door…”

You trail off as you hear the faint sound of a kettle whistle cutting through the air. You check over your shoulder over the back of the loveseat, where the source of the sound is coming from.

“It’s just the kettle,” Councilor Kiramman says. “Surely you had tea with your family when you were living at home?”

You slump in the seat, pressing your back into the cushion a bit. “Um, no, ma’am. I made my parents coffee in the mornings ‘fore they went off to work, though.”

“I find coffee too bitter for my taste,” she says. “Where do your parents work?”

You hesitate for a moment. You don’t know why. Are you embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about? (Maybe being poor in front of an overly rich person, for one, but that’s besides the point.)

“My daddy works in the oil fields. He does all the manual labor you’d expect in that job,” you say. “And my momma works at a local school – Meadowbrook Elementary. Teaches young children, age seven to eight, I’d say.”

“So you come from a family of laborers,” she says. “And yet you’re an artisan. How peculiar.”

You bristle a little at that statement. She didn’t exactly say it, but with the way she said ‘laborers…’ Okay, she didn’t say it with a sneer or an undertone of contempt, but how else are you supposed to respond to something like that?

“My parents encouraged me,” you say, keeping your voice even as you can manage to. “Sure, I got debt from my schooling, but I’m workin’ to pay it off.”

“You have to go into debt to go to school?” Councilor Kiramman says. She looks to the side and heaves a breath. “Is America really that backwards?”

You grit your teeth and give a smile you know is unconvincing. “Yes ma’am, but it’s still my home. You can love something despite its flaws.”

You watch as Councilor Kiramman looks over at the huge painting of her family. Her shoulders seem to relax a little.

“I find it odd,” she says. “If you don’t share an enthusiasm for labor, what do you share with your family?”

You look over at the painting – at the corpse of the exotic animal. It’s feathered, with some type of organic keratin mask over its face. You can only imagine its blood dripping from the bullet wound, pooling and inching towards the girl’s and the man’s hand-cobbled shoes.

“We went on huntin’ trips, just like that one,” you say. “We had one scoped rifle between all of us – was a pristine Mauser ‘98. I killed my first whitetail deer when I was twelve with that gun.”

Looking at the portrait makes you feel something in the pit of your stomach now. It’s a twisted mirror of what could’ve been. If your family was rich, if your family had only one child, if your family had its own property to hunt on.

You couldn’t imagine the Kirammans in the polaroid picture your momma took when you killed that buck. In that picture, you were smiling, proud, the rifle slung over your shoulder and your hands holding the deer’s head up by his eight-point antlers. Your kid-sized earmuffs were resting around your neck and your sneakers were covered in dry, flaky mud. You were dirty and shaking from adrenaline, but you couldn’t have been happier.

But the Kirammans don’t smile. They sure as hell don’t get dirty. They don’t put their hunt up on a gambrel and pulley to gut it – they hire someone to do that for them. Daddy Kiramman didn’t teach Daughter Kiramman how to skin an animal and how to cut out the backstrap. He taught her that her problems can be solved if she pays someone to solve them for her.

“My daughter was nine,” Councilor Kiramman says, her voice fond. “Caitlyn always wanted to go out on a hunting expedition since she was young. We said she could go once she could hold a rifle on her own. I’m sure you were similar when you were a child.”

You push down your thoughts and glance over at her. She’s still looking at the painting, probably remembering the day Caitlyn shot… whatever that is.

You clench your jaw and instead trace your eyes over the exquisite, golden frame the painting is held in. She’s insinuating your families are similar – that her plush, comfortable life is comparable to yours when it’s not.

You were a rough and tumble kid. You have scars from falling off your bike and playing with hunting knives, pretending to be pirates with your brother. Councilor Kiramman’s skin is flawless, and any scars that may have accrued have been washed away by a correcting gel or cream. You lapped at too-hot water from a hose during the summertime. She had chilled bottles of water when she was done doing her rich-girl extracurricular activities, like badminton and curling.

You start to feel sick. Maybe rich people just make you feel sick. Or the disparity between you two and the power she holds over you is making you sick.

She could put you in the gutter and no one would bat an eye – just another starving artist, well… starving. Everyone would excuse it with ‘Well, people compromise on their dreams all the time. Nothing was stopping them from getting a day job. It’s their fault for being poor, their fault for being naive enough to think that they were a true artist, their fault for not having rich parents and a safety net.’

The outfit Jayce put you in starts to feel too tight, too starchy and itchy. Your shoulders are confined by the almost-taut fabric and the ascot-tie-thing (you hate it, hate it) is creating an uncomfortable pressure along your sternum from being stuffed in your vest. You feel like you can’t pull in a full breath. You can’t pull in a full breath.

You hear footsteps behind you. You check over your shoulder and see Jayce walking back into the foyer, holding a tray with a teapot, three teacups, and a few other little containers with spoon handles sticking out of them.

“Jayce!” You say. The tension is broken. “You’re back.”

“I couldn’t decide which tea to brew,” Jayce says as he walks, carefully balancing the tray. “I ended up with conschberry tea. I hope that’s okay.”

You take your sketchbook and put it back in your bag to make room on the coffee table. He sets down the tray and sets the teacups out – one for him, one for you, and one for Councilor Kiramman.

The tea he pours from the teapot is a pinkish-orange color, and lets off a sweet, floral smell. The little containers are filled with sugars of different colors, and what you deduce is cream and milk. There’s a plate filled with sandwiches cut into neat squares, fruit still on a vine, and assorted pastries.

Jayce puts the teapot back on the tray, then sits next to you. Councilor Kiramman takes the spoon from a ramekin of light orange sugar and pours some into her tea. It fizzes, then settles as she stirs.

“That ain’t sugar?” You ask.

“Sugar?” She echoes. “It’s ainglë. Don’t tell me you don’t have ainglë in America?”

You shake your head, then reach out and take the container. You lift it to your nose and smell. It’s sharp and sinus-clearing, but reminds you of the saffron you’d sniff when you went into the big city’s grocery shop.

“Hm,” you hum. You sprinkle a little into your tea, and it fizzes, just like Councilor Kiramman’s did. That’s… somewhat reassuring, you guess.

You bring the cup to your lips and take a tentative sip. It’s sweet without being overwhelming and goes down with a mildly bitter aftertaste. It’s decadent, but definitely something you could get used to.

You take a deep breath and can feel the air hit the bottom of your lungs. The outfit is still constraining and uncomfortable, but it’s not as bad now. You feel less like a hog trussed for slaughter and more like a person that’s just in an awkward situation.

“We’ve reached an agreement,” Councilor Kiramman tells Jayce. “I’m not a sponsor yet, but they show promise.”

He sends you a brief smile and nods at her words. “Hopefully they make something to your liking.”

“Oh, I have no doubt they will,” she says. “We’ve worked out an arrangement. I provide the materials and workspace, and they provide the finished product. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

You feel like a kid at a gathering for dinner, with the adults talking about you over your head. You sip at your tea, then tilt your head back to drain the cup. You gather your bag, set your teacup down on the tray, and stand.

“Well, I oughta get goin’,” you say.

“Why so soon?” Councilor Kiramman says. “You’re welcome to stay and have more tea.”

You hold up a hand and make up a lie. “In my family, you serve hot tea when you want someone to go. I – I’d just feel unwelcome. Like I’m takin’ advantage of your gracious invitation.”

“If you must…” She stands and extends her hand over the coffee table. You take it, and she gives a firm handshake. You smile a little when you realize that she took care to remember American customs.

“Was nice meetin’ you,” you say.

“You as well,” she says, and lets go of your hand. “I’ll have someone arrange a studio and the materials you’ll need. It should be ready by the day after tomorrow.”

“The day after tomorrow?” You repeat, a little shocked. (Money does make the world go around, but you didn’t expect her money to accelerate the process that fast.) “I – yes, that works for me.”

Councilor Kiramman nods, and you take it as a sign that you’re now allowed to leave. You give Jayce a little reassurance that you won’t get lost, then make your way to the front doors and slip out.

83 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 1 year ago

Note

You know, after seeing your evil Ford au, I wonder what would happen if evil! Ford, met cannon! Ford. I feel like Cannon! Ford would hate him because he's just an example of what would happen if he haven't learned his lesson on perfection and how it's impossible to reach and how he doesn't need to impress people to be happy. I wonder what evil! Ford would think of his original counter part..would he be a little regretful? Since his cannon counterpart got more happiness than him? It's honestly intriguing to think about.

That's actually part of why I made Evil Ford: I was thinking about a dimension of lost Fords (like the dimension of lost Mabels in Don't Dimension It) and asked myself, which Ford alternate would Canon Ford most hate to meet?

So yeah you're right, Canon Ford would HATE Evil Ford—but not for thematic "you haven't learned the moral lesson about perfection & family" reasons. That's how audiences think about characters, it's not how people think about other people. When's the last time you hated somebody in real life because they missed the point of their own narrative arc—rather than because, say, they're rude to cashiers?

No, the reason Canon Ford hates Evil Ford is much simpler.

Similarly, meeting Canon Ford wouldn't make Evil Ford feel regretful because Evil Ford still thinks he made the right decision. What does he care if Canon Ford is "happier" if he only found contentment by—what—giving up on his high ambitions and settling for being a washed-up burnt-out ex-academic with no memorable achievements to his name? Evil Ford would rather die as a miserable overachiever than live as a peaceful slacker.

And he didn't spend thirty years on a completely different life path from Canon Ford without developing a totally different perspective.

Note: when Canon Ford found out Bill lied about the portal and declared he'd stop Bill no matter what, Evil Ford thinks that's Ford betraying Bill, not the other way around.

Also note: Evil Ford thinks Canon Ford is only motivated by anger over being deceived—not concern for the safety of the whole planet. Like yeah sure, he's HEARD that excuse; but that's what he thinks it is: an excuse. If he'd decided not to forgive Bill, he probably would've used the same excuse himself. A convenient, heroic-sounding moral justification for a thirty year vengence quest—but he doesn't really care that much about who's running the Earth, why would his alternate self?

(And really, Canon Ford? Thirty years? Thirty years?? You never found anything more productive to do with all that time than stalk your former mentor because you're MAD about ONE LIE?? If Canon Ford had said he thought killing Bill would net him more interdimensional fame and praise than he'd ever have as his underling, then Evil Ford could understand THAT—he himself has had misgivings about the fact that he's signed up to spend all eternity playing second banana—but as it is, though...)

Also also note: Evil Ford never reconciled with Fiddleford because he never acknowledged Fidds was "right" about Bill. He spent two-thirds of his life estranged from his brother. He moved across the country from his family. He made no friends in Gravity Falls, and likely no other college friends than Fidds. But he spent over half his life working with, dreaming with, living with Bill Cipher.

Evil Ford is evil; but he's not heartless.

Bill's the muse that gave him the blueprints he needed for his greatest invention and for the culmination of his life's work as a scientist and explorer. Bill's a near-god who hailed Ford as the greatest genius of his century, the man who's going to change the world, and via divine weirdness intervention he personally made sure that prophecy come true. Bill's the guy who—after Ford's embarrassing failure of a portal accident—welcomed Ford into his gang with open arms and the assurance that all his hard work wouldn't be for naught. He's Ford's longest-lasting friendship, his partner in crime and in science and in just about everything else by now, the person he trusts to puppet his body.

Is that a very skewed perspective on Bill? God, yeah. But it's Evil Ford's perspective.

If someone told you that all your suffering is due to the one person you trust most in all the world and the one person outside your family you care about the most—someone you've known for over thirty years—and your life would be so much better if you'd ditched this person the very first time you didn't get along—and that ditching them would have been the moral action—and that, in fact, you should have dedicated your life to killing this person...

Would you regret your life? Would you envy the life of the man who told you all this?

Or would you despise him?

How much more would you despise him if you knew he was you—had lived the same life as you—and that he had killed the most important person in your world?

Oh, Evil Ford resents the hell out of Canon Ford. Who are you—you slacker, you betrayer—to say you're "happier" than your counterpart? How do you deserve that "happy" ending? How is that fair?

Evil Ford only has one regret: not locking up his entire family before Weirdmageddon, where they'd all be safe... and where Bill would be safe from them.

#stanford pines #grunkle ford #gravity falls #evil ford au #fanart #my art #(I made these pictures much tinier than i usually draw to ensure they'd actually upload lmao)

480 notes · View notes

nowimjustastranger · 2 months ago

Note

What would Watchdog Ford do with a time wish?

Considering that Watchdog Ford's whole deal is messing with timelines, he's on very good terms with Time Baby, often giving him trinkets and themed lunchboxes that Lee makes. Watchdog Ford basically got the green light from The Axolotl to fuck around with other Dimensions, so Time Baby doesn't interfere with him. Time Baby's visits are purely the friendly sort, often for a playdate.

But there are times when Time Baby comes to Watchdog Ford with a reward, because Watchdog Ford does occasionally defeat a Bill Cipher and Time Baby likes showing his support by offering Watchdog a Time Wish, even if he often politely turns it down.

That's not to say he isn't tempted to use it, because he is. But he knows that if he went back, even if it is just to see his little brother, he would do something rash. Maybe in an alternate reality, Watchdog Ford does visit his brother and ends up snatching nineteen year old Stan from his timeline to bring him to Watchdog Ford's (probably faking Stan's suicide with Lee's help to maintain the stability of the timeline and basically create a loop).

Anyways, if Time Baby is being particularly stubborn about the Time Wish, Watchdog Ford will take the reward but give it away. Lee has even taken the Time Wish once when he was feeling particularly homesick, asking to be back home as a ten year old for twenty-four hours so he could spend time with his Ma and brother.

But Watchdog Ford himself hasn't ever used it, he knows himself well enough not to set himself up for failure. He's built something bigger than himself, something that's helping on a larger scale than he could've ever anticipated. He's built a family, has friends, has pets. He would rather just turn down the Time Wish than risk throwing away everything he's accomplished and the people he's come to love and cherish.

#gravity falls #somebody to call my own au #lore #ford pines #stan pines #lee pines #stan and ford #lee and ford #stan twins #ask box

39 notes · View notes

blacklegsanjiii · 1 year ago

Note

Okay okay youve awakend brain worms in me, hear me out:

Sanji escaping the dungeon a few weeks earlier causing him to be in the grandline instead of east blue and meeting none other than ✨Robin✨ maybe sanjis somehow being hunted by germa or smth so theyre both on the run and they make a pact to help each other (which is rocky at first cause they both have hella trust issues) but slowly opening up to each other more and more and being each others only trust person...

Idk!! Im reallt loving all your different sanji situations especially since i see him as a barbie character (he has so many jobs!! Lmao) and ive always loveedd his friendship with Robin since i imagine them both having a bit of a morbid humour

Fuck that's good. That's so fucking good ommmggggg.

17 year old Nico Robin picking up a starved and beaten 8 year old Sanji. Both of them flinching at touch no matter how kind or anything. After a year they're probably close and sharing beds/blankets/stuff like that. Doesn't mean it's not hard or anything. Sanji suffers from nightmares every night and is running on very little sleep most of the time. Robin doesn't know how to comfort him at first because sometimes when he wakes up it's straight into a panic attack.

Robin explains Ohara and the buster call, Sanji explains Germa and his issue with bugs from the mask. Robin pulls this impossibly tiny child to her and holds him as they both cry. This is the first time they really touch each other without flinching and such. If they're running from Cipher Pol or the marines or even Aokiji Robin makes sure to always hold the younger's hand. Makes sure to keep him with her at all times.

They spend a lot of time traveling and reading and Sanji gets better at cooking and feeding them and Robin only gets smarter. Sanji gets a bounty as well, guilty by association and the theft and everything else. He's got to have a name like Robin does but I don't know what.

Eventually they wind up in Alabasta working under Crocodile. Ms. All Sunday and Mr. Prince are excellent workers, highly skilled and still able to do what they love. I imagine Robin also taught Sanji to read the poneglyphs in case she dies. Sanji tells her about the All Blue. They have a pact with each other, if one dies the other will try to fulfill the other's dream. It's a lot of weight on their shoulders. Ohara and Germa, the government, the history they have.

When they ask to join the Strawhat crew Luffy lets them when he finds out Sanji can cook and Robin is an archeologist. They don't mesh well at first. Zoro trusts them on the Captain's word but he picks fight with Sanji because he doesn't use weapons and he and Robin are on edge.

When they run into Aokiji he looks at Sanji and Robin. Aokiji mentions off handedly that Sanji's bounty might be getting updated. They leave and Enies Lobby happens and Robin and Sanji are tense. They just are. It probably falls apart and Sanji says it should have been both of them at once because that way they wouldn't have hurt the crew twice, Robin agrees. Luffy yells at both of them for that, saying that they are apart of his crew and won't let them leave until they're dreams are accomplished.

Skipping ahead to WCI Robin goes with Luffy instead of Nami. Robin is dead set on bringing up what happened in Enies Lobby against Sanji because how dare there be a double standard. Even when she finds out they have Cipher Pol over them again. Then she finds out about the cuffs.

How dare Judge and Big Mom? How fucking dare they. Those are his hands, his greatest treasures and tools. Sanji explains that he wants to save his family and they do, Robin doesn't like it because she saw Sanji fresh out of the dungeon, a skeleton wrapped in paper skin covered in bruises and cuts. Robin will let Judge live but on the escape when Judge is saying that shit?

Robin pulls him close and traps him in her arms and threatens him. Devil Child Nico Robin is not one to be played with, especially when it comes to the only person she really truly trusts. So she makes it very clear that she is letting him live this time but if she sees him again? IF they even happen to be in the same town? He will be killed, it will be painful. Sanji is letting her because this is Robin's turn to be protective.

On the way to Wano they're sitting next to each other and Robin mentions that if she was allowed to she would have killed him then and there for how she found Sanji. Sanji nods and apologizes for the trouble and Robin frowns at him. Something akin to "Remember Enies Lobby?" where Sanji mutters that it still should have been both of them. Robin pulls him close and mutters that this should have been both of them too.

#nico!sanji #nico robin #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #answers #look i did it #devil child nico robin

68 notes · View notes

werewargs · 1 month ago

Text

TwiCord NextGen Lineup (Minus Discord lol)

Here's Twilight and her babies :)))

Whole bunch of info below the cut!

The style for these guys is a whole lot looser than my SunPest lineup because I may or may not have made the canvas like 7835 pixels by 4604 pixels. Whyy did I do that lol? That's also why Discord isn't here lmao ;w;

I had to like color all of them on their own copy of the canvas and then paste them all together on the final one lmaoo making things so much harder for myself for no reason fr

From left to right we have:

Princess Twilight Sparkle, matriarch (she/her)

Starfall Swirl, eldest child (she/they/he)

Eldritch Whispers, middle child (he/they/it)

And Cryptic Cipher, youngest child (they/them)

I don't have a ton to say about these guys for right now since I'm still deciding what I want their dynamics to be like and what the family dynamic ought to be like as a whole.

Generally my ideas for them are Incredibly Charming Wizard Dork (SS), Silly Prankster with Comprehension of Horrors Beyond the Mortal Realm (EW), and Reclusive Prodigy with a little bit of Elphaba influence (CC)

Here's a link to my TH folder that houses all of my NextGen characters for this universe (which has yet to be named): https://toyhou.se/werewargs/characters/folder:6487822

Also here are the kiddos' concept doodles! :

They received very minimal changes. Overall they feel a bit less saturated which is shame (can't wait for Tumblr to desaturate them even more). Wonder if I did that on purpose I literally don't even know I drew these almost four months ago lol.

Extra Notes While I'm Thinkin'

- Starfall Swirl probably attends magic school with Solar Flare and acts as her biggest rival, albeit unknowingly. Starfall isn't nearly as competitive as Solar and is a bit slow to understand social cues the unicorn may be sending her way. Solar: *glaring at Starfall menacingly for getting a better score on a magic exam* Starfall: "Wow I sure am glad I don't have an intense stare like that. People would think I was mad at them all the time!"

- Eldritch Whispers very likely spends a lot of time training his chaos magic with his dad. Discord helps him learn to use such powers expertly, a skill that is mandatory if Whispers wants to use his magic to help ponies. I imagine he dreams of sealing away various incomprehensible horrors that slip through interdimensional rifts that pop up here and there in Equestria. I'm sure those are nothing to worry about.

- Cryptic Cipher is entirely focused on arcane codes and ciphers. They are quite gifted at making ones of their own, but they also specialize in decoding the ancient magic they research. Their primary occupation is doing such work. They strive to help further Equestria's understanding of its history, back to the era of Grogar and Gusty the Great.

- Cipher's magic also works much more similarly to how unicorns' magic does, as opposed to Draconequi (?). They can't use magic to levitate and have to use their wings for flight, and their horn acts as their only spellcasting focus (they can't cast spells by snapping their fingers, etc.)

- Starfall and Whispers can use magic using their horns (unicorn style) AND ALSO cast spells just by thinking/willing them (draconequus style).

- Starfall prefers using her horns to cast magic, as she was mainly taught that way by her mother and by other magic teachers at her magic school (all of whom were ponies).

- Whispers, however, is a lot like his dad in the way that he often simply snaps his fingers to cast a spell. BUT the rings of his horn glow whenever he uses any kind of magic. It can be hard for him to sneakily cast spells lol.

#wargs draws #mlp nextgen #mlp #my little pony #mlp next generation #twilight x discord #twilight sparkle #nextgen ocs #ponies #draconequus

11 notes · View notes

crimeronan · 2 months ago

Note

Hey, your oc playlists are so damn good, I'm for sure noting them to listen when I've got time to rly marinate in them!!! I hope it's okay but they also made me want to share a Princess Luz au playlist I put together last year ~

The Man in the Chair by Aviators: This one is about Belos and Luz, vibes are the first few chapters of the first Luz pov fic.

"Take your medicine and swallow down All the bitterness that built this town Don't ever let him start to realize You know this machine was rigged to fail When it falls apart then you can't bail To find a place of safety in the sky"

and

"Control comes cheap and nothing is fair They wake you from sleep and nobody's there You walk among sheep and that's why you're scared You'll never be the man in the chair"

Esp in relation to the nightmares + realization of powerless + trying to act normal and not doing it.

Her Father Was A Bastard by the Holy Ghost Tent Revival: Hunter pov about him and Luz, fairly self explanatory I hope.

"Oh oh, the world is spinning faster And I thought I heard you say your father is a bastard I don't mean to brag But my life's a drag without you"

Bleak thing for Hunter to say but kinda true. Without Luz it would be worse!

Princess of the Universe by Utopia: Other people's pov of Luz! Also deliberate irony because ahahahahaaa

"You're a princess baby, you can do no wrong" <- no one believes this

"Ain't seen nothing like it since the Shah got the rope You've got a legion of leaguers that could shame the Pope You just need to say the word and they run like hell You better take a cool shower so your head don't swell"

Regardless of how little she wants it she has power now! No one can stop her! She knows this and it's not a good thing! This one is tonally dissonant but on purpose, also it's kind of a bop.

Turn Back the Clock by Greyscale: Hunter and Luz, again. This one is about them reconciling/coming back to an understanding after Belos's death. This is the one I'm a little iffy on, mostly because it's more explicitly romantic than most of these but I like it here.

"How could I act so crazy? I was a fool My state of mind was hazy but you overruled Keep me steady and I'll do the same The key to love is sharing the blame"

In Love With a Thinker by Utopia: Amity's pov at the very beginning of her and Luz interacting when Luz is very scary and Amity is very on edge.

"I'm just a cipher in her master plan That's what I get for working out of my league Although she says that I have nothing to fear I wonder what will be left when she's finished with me

God help me"

I do love how Amity spends her first pov fic convinced Luz is a coldblooded schemer. It's fun.

Dead Woman Walking by Megan Jean and the KFB: This is a song about Luz doing Badly! And guilt spiraling about Hunter and about whether she's taking advantage of him and if he Actually likes her or if he's just Built to and so on so on.

"If I could feel at all I would choose regret For ruining your life from the day that we met And still you search my eyes for some kind of divine sign Don't you see the sockets rotting baby? Love is blind"

So technically Hunter is the corpse but y'know close enough.

"I hate the way I walk all over you Just like the dead women do"

Yeah

If It Doesn't Come Naturally, Leave It by Al Stewart: The AU Lumity song! Just the, the latest fic in it's entirety. Amity pov again. I could honestly go line by line on this one but I'll spare you and just paste the first verse.

"Nothing that's forced can ever be right If it doesn't come naturally, leave it That's what she said as we turned out the light and we bent our backs as slaves of the night Then she let down her guard and showed me the scars She got from trying to fight Said, oh you better believe it"

Both of their neuroticism about power + the first time they slept together being weirdly natural but also so tense + Luz literally lets down her guard and shows Amity the scars she got from trying to fight. I could go on. This is The song.

Bonus song - Self-Inflicted by Frank Hayes. I don't want to put it in the main list because it may technically be rare music and is almost definitely in poor taste, but it unfortunately makes me think of them. Sorry.

"I'd do anything to myself for you"

ooh, i'll have to give these a listen!! thank you :O that last lumity one Especially sounds really on-the-nose.

you also don't have to worry about picking songs that are "too romantic" for luz and hunter, haha. their relationship has all the beats of a usual romance.... sometimes romantic songs just fit!

when i made my own playlist, there were SEVERAL "dysfunctional romance" songs for her and hunter. hell, there were also several songs about abusive relationships for her & belos that i usually read as being about romantic relationships.

#[spongebob flying ice cream truck voice] she was not in a romantic relationship with belos.#replies #music #music recs #princess luz au

7 notes · View notes

werecat1234 · 3 months ago

Text

Multiverse Madness Chapter Three

Trigger warning! Hinted animal death is in this chapter! It's not graphic, but just in case, the trigger warning is between these! "**"

A week after the attack on Underswap, everything had been going relatively well, other than Killer being... clingy. Nightmare had intended for Killer to get attached to him; that was his main strategy, after all, but he hadn't intended for Killer to spend so much time with him. It started the day after the fight, Nightmare sitting on his throne, imaging Dream begging for mercy before him before he was sealed in stone again, when Killer walked into the throne room.

"hey, boss." Killer had greeted him, leaning against the side of Nightmare's throne, and Nightmare's tentacles twitched slightly from the action.

"killer. what do you need?" Nightmare had asked, looking over his shoulder at him.

"nothing really, i was just bored and bill's not here." Was Killer's answer.

Ah, so Killer had chosen to annoy him because he was bored...

"i see." Nightmare had said, and everything was silent for a while, neither saying a word before Nightmare spoke, "do you need me to give you something to do?"

"not really, i just wanted to hang out." Was Killer's response.

"you're going to be standing there doing nothing for quite some time, then." Nightmare had told him, but the skeleton hadn't cared.

"good thing i go off into my own head a lot." Killer had answered, and silence passed over the two of them once again.

Nightmare eventually almost forgot Killer was there, other than the knife Killer had started absently started fidgeting with. Nightmare went back to fantasizing Dream's demise, and Killer was silent as he leaned against his throne. Nightmare had reasonably wanted to fling him across the throne room, but he'd resisted the urge. He needed Killer to think he cared for him. Which was also the main source of Nightmare's problem. He had to maintain his charade almost constantly, and then he decided to send Killer out to get things for his room at the end of the week, needing some time to breathe.

"So, you finally got fed up with him, huh?" Bill asked from where he floated next to Nightmare, on the other side of where Killer usually leaned.

"he constantly spends time with me because he has nothing better to do. i hadn't intended for him to become this attached to me." Nightmare muttered.

"Well he did. What're you gonna do about it?" Bill questioned.

"i need to get him something to stay occupied; some chore or task that'll take him forever to complete." Nightmare answered.

"Ooooor you could recruit another puppet? I can take you there whenever you want, you know~" Bill told him.

"later. i need time to breathe before i go out manipulating another sans to my side. this castle is huge and it's already become suffocating just from killer." Nightmare sighed.

"Look, Nighty-" Bill started, but Nightmare cut him off.

"don't call me that."Nightmare hissed.

". . . Fine. Nightmare, the reason he's not leaving you alone is because he's lonely. He wants someone to hang out with, and you're his only friend. Well, other than me kinda, but you're his best friend. It's useful for your plan, but Killer, not that he'll admit it, enjoys having someone to hang out with most of the time. That's why I'm suggesting for you to recruit the next one." Bill explained.

". . . tomorrow. tomorrow i'll go. right now i'm going to enjoy my solitude." Nightmare replied.

"It's not solitude if I'm here." Bill pointed out, and Nightmare gave him a look over his shoulder, ". . . Riiiiiiight. I'm gonna go get my room set up here, then."

"i never gave you a room here, cipher." Nightmare narrowed his eye socket at him.

"Guess I'll just stay here then..." Bill sighed dramatically.

". . . well played. fine. pick out an empty bedroom. killer's room is the one next to my office, so no choosing either of those." Nightmare sighed.

"Thanks, Cthulhu!" Bill smirked.

". . . . . never call me that again." Nightmare glared.

"Ok, ok! It was worth a shot, though!" Bill chuckled, teleporting out of the throne room, leaving Nightmare alone.

Nightmare sighed quietly as he was finally granted isolation, relaxing in his throne without Killer behind him or Bill pestering him. His tentacles curled around the sharp edges of his throne, some also wrapping around the legs, and he leaned his head against the cushion behind his skull. If he could feel peace, this would be it. However, the closest thing he could get to it was the absence of annoyance or irritation from being disturbed or bothered when he wanted to be alone. Thankfully, Killer had contacted Bill through that phone in order to be teleported back, but Nightmare sensed something... strange.

It was odd, as he had never expected to sense happiness from Killer outside of sadism, but this was... almost pure. Nightmare's curiosity grew after a few hours, along with his disgust, and he decided to investigate. He approached Killer's room silently, tentacles slithering in the air behind him with each step, and he knocked on Killer's door. No response. He knocked again, and after waiting a few moments, he opened the door.

He found something he hadn't expected; Killer fast asleep on his bed, a furry creature curled up next to him. It was a fluffy black creature with a few white and dark gray spots, emitting a purring noise as it breathed. Nightmare knew what a pet was, but he hadn't expected Killer to find one and bring it back with him. On the one hand, it would occupy Killer, but on the other... it was a weakness; a distraction, one that could hinder Killer's performance, if something were to happen to it. Besides, the positivity it was bringing Killer was a foul taste on Nightmare's tongue, and if Killer insisted on 'hanging out' with him while that happy, Nightmare might just strangle him.

On top of all of that... Nightmare didn't like cats. Maybe Bill was right about Killer being lonely and wanting companionship, but Nightmare would fix that issue tomorrow. However, before he did that... the cat had to go.

Nightmare extended a tentacle out to Killer, shaking his shoulder a bit, saying, "killer, wake up. i have something to discuss with you."

"huh?..." Killer mumbled, eye sockets opening slowly, "boss?"

"yes. what is that?" Nightmare asked, pointing a tentacle at the creature.

"a cat?" Killer replied, looking at the sleeping feline next to him as he sat up on his bed.

"what's it doing here?" Nightmare questioned.

"i found it while i was out." Killer answered.

"yes, i assumed that, but why is it here?" Nightmare asked.

"she seemed to like me, and i couldn't just leave her there..." Killer responded.

"did you feel sympathy towards it?" Nightmare narrowed his eye socket, keeping his tone from showing all of his anger, instead just irritation.

"i... i don't know. i just like cats..." Killer shrugged, looking at the feline and petting it as it slept, which then purred in response.

"you can't keep it." Nightmare told him bluntly.

"what? why not?" Killer questioned, looking back up at him in confusion.

"it's a weakness, killer. if you get attached to this thing, you could feel hesitation in harming other cats, then animals, then who knows what. not to mention the positivity it makes you give off. do you realize how much dream will capitalize on that?" Nightmare asked, eying the feline as he spoke.

"i... didn't consider that..." Killer mumbled, looking down.

"i know you didn't, which is why i'm telling you. i'm taking it back where you got it from, and you are not to return to that au. understood?" Nightmare questioned.

"yes, sir..." Killer replied, looking down.

"good. i'm going to recruit your next teammate in the morning, maybe then you'll be less desperate for companionship, and this one will be one that can't be used against you or risk your ability to do your job." Nightmare said.

"she wouldn't be an issue, boss. really. she could be a mascot or something?" Killer suggested.

"we don't need a mascot. we need someone who's attached to nothing frail and pathetic, especially a pet." Nightmare responded, voice a borderline hiss.

"but boss i'm not attached, i just think-" Killer started, but was cut off by Nightmare.

"no, killer. . . . actually, i have an idea. you want to prove you're not attached to it, right?" Nightmare asked him, "that it doesn't influence your ability to do your job?"

"yes..." Killer replied.

"then kill it."

Killer's eye sockets widened in horror, faint white outlines of eyelights in his eye sockets as the other personality in his mind woke up from the hole Nightmare had shoved it into.

"wh-what?..." Killer asked shakily.

"you heard me. prove to me that you don't feel sympathy or remorse, especially not to something you barely know." Nightmare ordered.

"i... i don't..." Killer looked back at the cat sleeping next to him, and Nightmare wrapped a tentacle around his soul, squeezing it and suppressing any sympathy Killer had.

"prove. it." Nightmare hissed, glaring at the cat as it wrapped an arm around Killer's leg.

Killer looked up at him emotionlessly, and then back at the cat sleeping next to him, and then back at Nightmare again.

Nightmare threw the blood soaked blanket into a portal to a Pacifist timeline, looking back at Killer, who stood a few feet behind him. Killer was still gripping the bloodied knife tightly in his hand, said hand shaking as blood dripped from the blade and onto the stone floor of Nightmare's throne room. Emotions were starting to trickle back, and they were as delicious as they were disappointing. Honestly, Killer should be glad Nightmare let him kill it while it slept, and it was painless.

He could've made him wake it up and draw out the death, but he wasn't going to go that far. He didn't need Killer to hate him or hold any form of grudge. Then again, he doubted he could, and if it were somehow possible, Nightmare would just make the feeling go away. Killer would accept this was for his own good eventually.

"killer, you must understand it's for your own good. if you had gotten attached to it, there could've been dire consequences." Nightmare spoke, looking back at him.

"i know." Killer replied flatly, a few transparent black tears coming from his eye sockets as he put the knife into his pocket.

"everything dies, killer. everything weak and unable to defend itself dies. i can't die, and your new teammate, while mortal, will be able to defend himself. relying on a pathetic life that you're supposed to snuff out of existence is weak, killer, and you're much better than that. do you understand?" Nightmare asked, putting a tentacle on his shoulder.

"i understand..." Killer responded, looking at him.

"good. don't go to that au again, and tell me if you start feeling any kind of grief. i'll deal with it." Nightmare instructed, and Killer nodded slightly, "good. now, did you find anything else for your room while you were out?"

"yeah, a few things..." Killer answered, likely wanting to be alone right now.

Nightmare would return the favor Killer had been giving him all week, and give him no such mercy.

"show me. i want to see how it's coming along." Nightmare told him, and Killer nodded again after a moment, heading towards his room, Nightmare following behind him.

Upon arriving back in his room, Nightmare saw several boxes he hadn't noticed before, Killer opening one to reveal knife sets and sharpening tools, and Nightmare could see some daggers and even a machete or two at the bottom of the box. Killer opened another box, and it was mostly books on different types of knives, knife throwing, along with a few on woodworking and carving, a few kits for it also in the box.

"wood carving?" Nightmare questioned him.

"figured i could use a hobby." Killer shrugged, and Nightmare nodded.

"it's a good idea." Nightmare told him, and he nodded slightly, putting the books on one of the bookshelves, putting the woodworking kits on the same shelf as their books, and the knife books stayed on another shelf entirely.

"i just need to learn how to read first." Killer said, and Nightmare looked at him in confusion.

"you... don't know how to read?" Nightmare asked.

"chara never taught me." Killer shrugged.

". . . i'll teach you. this castle has a massive library, and i'm sure there's beginning books on how to read somewhere. if not, i'll teach you myself." Nightmare told him, and Killer nodded.

Nightmare saw something at the bottom of the box, and he tilted his skull slightly. It was a black piece of fabric that was a few inches wide, and it was three times as long. He picked it up, inspecting it as Killer turned to look at him.

"what is this for?" Nightmare questioned.

"i figured there should be a way to tell me apart from other versions of me, so i grabbed it." Killer took the cloth from Nightmare before tying it around his upper left forearm.

"hmm. not a bad idea, but i think it can be expanded upon more later. it's a good thought, though." Nightmare praised, and Killer nodded without saying another word, going back to unpacking the boxes.

Nightmare knew his emotions would return eventually, and Killer would get over the death, if he hadn't already. Killer was no stranger to it, Nightmare knew. Besides, it proved something to Nightmare, something he would ensure to utilize: He could control Killer very easily.

"i found these too." Killer spoke up suddenly, Nightmare looking over at him as he held up some red and black lava lamps, along with a teal one.

"lava lamps?" Nightmare asked him.

Killer nodded, grabbing the teal one and holding it out to Nightmare, saying, "i grabbed this one for you."

If Nightmare had any form of a heart or soul, it would ache, knowing that Killer had thought of him and had gotten something for him despite not needing to, and in return Nightmare had made him kill his new pet cat. However, Nightmare had no such thing, so he accepted the lava lamp without a shred of guilt over his actions, or rather, the actions he'd made Killer take...

"thank you. i'll put it in my office." Nightmare told him, and he would.

He'd make sure Killer saw it every time he entered it, as a reminder of today.

Killer set up the red and black lava lamps, three in total, on one of his night stands, going back to the box and grabbing a lamp in the shape of a knife, and putting it on the other nightstand. He opened another box, and he grabbed some soft black blankets, and put them on his bed in place of the old ones Nightmare had needed to... dispose of. From there, there was some posters, mainly art of knives and a few music bands Nightmare wasn't familiar with, Killer securing them to different spots his wall with tape.

"what are those posters for?" Nightmare asked.

"just decorating, mainly." Killer shrugged, "keeping the walls from being bare i guess."

Nightmare nodded in understanding, watching as Killer kept unpacking, and after a while, it looked much more lived in. Killer had definitely made himself at home, meaning he was probably growing more comfortable, which was a good thing. At least, for Nightmare. Nightmare left the room once Killer finished, lingering outside the door for a few minutes, and he heard Killer quietly humming to himself, and of course, it was the song Nightmare had taught him. Good, it was doing it's job...

Nightmare teleported to his throne room again, seeing Bill standing next to it, a look of both respect, surprise, and astonishment on his face.

"what?" Nightmare asked, sitting on his throne as Bill watched him.

"I knew you were evil and all, but I didn't expect you to do that. I'm impressed." Bill smirked.

"i got my point across, and killer proved his loyalty to me. i view it as a win. i want to recruit the new one tomorrow. you were right about killer needing companionship."

"I know I was. I'll be back in a few hours. I need to find an alligator dressed in a tuxedo made of pajamas with vampire blood splattered on them in the shape of a dinosaur skull. bye!" Bill said, teleporting out.

". . . what?"

In a few hours, as promised, Bill teleported back to Nightmare's throne room, and asked, "You ready? This one's gonna be a fun one, and he won't trust easy. You're gonna have to think outside the box here."

"i'm ready, also what the hell were you on about with that alligator?" Nightmare asked, the question having eaten away at him for the past hours.

"Heh, nothing really. Just something to make sure you were thinking of me while I was away~" Bill smirked.

"you're worse than killer." Nightmare glared, and Bill laughed, teleporting the two of them out of the throne room.

Nightmare looked around the AU Bill had teleported them to, seeing that they were once again in a Snowdin. The air was filled with dust, it mixing with the snow as it fell, along with on the ground before it was swept into the wind again. Nightmare could sense someone within the AU, another Sans, who was likely the one responsible for the dust everywhere in the AU. It was even more dusty than Killer's timeline, which truly said something considering the state of it.

"This one's a fun one. He's the strategic type, doesn't trust easy, except for the hallucination of his dead brother. He'll wanna be called 'Dust', and oh, one more thing! Killer and him are gonna be close, so you'll probably get the alone time you want so you can brood or whatever it is you do." Bill informed before he vanished from sight.

Nightmare sighed, setting out through the AU, formulating a plan as he walked, and by the time he found his soon to be second subordinate, he knew just what to do...

The Sans noticed him from a distance, and was immediately cautious of him, ready to attack or dodge at any moment's notice. He looked like a standard Sans, but his hood was up, and he had a tattered and dusty red scarf around his neck, likely from his brother, not mentioning the dust covering his clothes. His eyelights weren't white either; his left eyelight was cyan with a circle of red around it, and his right eyelight was a red version of the regular white ones most Sanses had. Nightmare could see the hallucination, a disembodied floating skull with glowing red eye sockets, a near matching scarf to the Sans's, and it had floating red gloves with sharpened fingertips.

'BE CAREFUL, BROTHER. THAT MONSTER SEEMS... DANGEROUS.' The hallucination spoke to him, and the Sans nodded.

"i know, paps. i'll be careful..." The Sans replied, slowly approaching Nightmare, and asking, "who are you?"

"someone who means you no harm. my name is nightmare, and i'm not of this world. i come from a vast multiverse, and i've come to enlist your services. come work for me, and this loop ends, and you can have anything material that you want, and access to power beyond your wildest dreams. all you need to do, is spread some negativity and fight my enemies." Nightmare explained.

"i'm not interested." The Sans replied, not even considering his offer.

". . . what?" Nightmare asked.

"look, i have a job here. to stop the damn human from killing everyone over and over again. i can't give that up. besides, i don't deserve anything you want to give me. find someone else, and leave me here to rot, if i ever end this damn loop." The Sans told him.

Nightmare could sense the negativity from him, the repressed self hatred, guilt, and remorse, covered up by numbness, revenge, and homicidal urges ready at a hair trigger from his high lv. Nightmare wasn't taking no for an answer though, and he knew just how to convince the Sans to make the right decision. He seeped his magic into the Sans, slithering through his mind before grasping at the hallucination brought on by guilt and high LV, and he took control over it.

'I THINK HE HAS A GOOD OFFER, SANS. YOU SHOULD TAKE IT.' Nightmare made the hallucination speak.

"what? paps, you know i can't do that." The Sans replied, looking over at his 'brother'.

'YOU CAN. WHAT YOU CAN'T DO IS SAVE EVERYONE. YOU'RE ONLY PROLONGING THEIR SUFFERING, SANS. IF THIS MONSTER HAS A WAY TO END THE CYCLE, TAKE IT. DON'T KEEP HURTING EVERYONE BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT TO INJURE YOUR OWN PRIDE.' The hallucination told the Sans, who trembled slightly.

"paps, you know that's not why-" The Sans started, but Nightmare made the hallucination cut him off.

'DON'T LIE TO ME, SANS. YOU CAN LIE TO YOURSELF, BUT DON'T LIE TO ME. FACE IT, HE CAN HELP. NOW DO SOMETHING THAT'LL HELP FOR ONCE, AND HEAR HIM OUT. THAT IS, UNLESS YOU DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT US ANYMORE. UNLESS ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS REVENGE FOR THE PAINYOU SUFFERED, NOT WHAT THE REST OF US EXPERIENCE.'

"papyrus, that's not what this is about! i just don't trust him, and i... i need to save you. all of you." The Sans insisted, purple tears building in his eye sockets.

'THEN SAVE US BY LISTENING TO THIS MONSTER AND ACCEPTING HIS DEAL. SPREADING NEGATIVITY IS A SMALL PRICE TO PAY FOR ALL OF US TO REST IN PEACE. BESIDES.... YOU'RE ALREADY A MONSTER; YOU CAN'T GET MUCH WORSE THAN THIS.'

The Sans shook a bit more, before looking back at Nightmare, shakily asking "h-how would you s-stop the loop?"

The poor thing was on the brink of tears, so easily brought to Nightmare's mercy. He'd almost compare this level of patheticness to Killer's late pet, but this Sans could defend himself, and Nightmare could remove that weakness.

Nightmare made his face look pleased, hiding his sadistic satisfaction as he replied, "i have an ally who can remove the child's ability to reset, reload, or even save. they'd be completely vulnerable to you to kill one last time. all i ask in return is you work for me until the day you die, help spread negativity across the multiverse, and help fight my enemies, all while being loyal to me. so what do you say?"

'ACCEPT HIS DEAL.' Nightmare made the hallucination hiss to the Sans, 'IT'S THE BEST OPTION POSSIBLE. FOR EVERYONE. BESIDES, EVEN IF IT WASN'T... Y O U D O N ' T D E S E R V E A N Y T H I N G G O O D O R M E R C I F U L A N Y W A Y S .'

The Sans's breath hitched again, looking at the hallucination with wide eye sockets, taking a shaky breath before looking back at Nightmare, saying, clearly trying to seem calm, "i... i accept your offer..."

"good choice. you'll have another teammate, too. his name is killer, and you'll need a new name as well. the multiverse is a large place, and you can't just be named 'sans'." Nightmare informed.

"dust." The Sans said suddenly, and Nightmare gave him a curious look, "i've... been thinking about the name for a while. i... don't deserve the name 'sans' anymore, anyways."

"very well. dust it is." Nightmare nodded, "is there anything you want to gather before we leave? just so i know where to take you once the human is dead."

"no, i don't think so..." Dust shook his skull no.

"very well." Nightmare said, "cipher, you can do your thing now."

Bill appeared between Nightmare and Dust, looking Dust over and saying, "Hey, kid! Name's Bill Cipher! Welcome to the team! Here! Here's a horse riding a human!"

Bill snapped his fingers, a human running around the three of them, a horse sitting on their back. The human galloped around the group, wearing a saddle and reins around it's face, the horse holding the reins in it's hooves.

"what the fu-?"

"Anyways!" Bill snapped his fingers a second time, the horse and human exploding into a bunch of multicolored, mainly pink and yellow, pixels, the horse and human both shrieking with agony as they vanished, "I hear you need a human killed permanently? No worries! I'm an expert at that, and it's as easy as one.... two... three!"Bill snapped his fingers again, and he had likely just removed the human's abilities to Reset or Reload.

". . . it's that easy?... how did you do that?" Dust asked.

"Simple! It's magic!" Bill grinned, and Dust sighed quietly.

It seemed Nightmare wouldn't be the only one growing tired of Bill's, and likely Killer's, antics.

"where is this human you mentioned? i'd like for you to meet killer, he'll be waking up soon." Nightmare asked.

"in the ruins, trapped. i just finished up... uh... killing everyone, and was about to go start killing the human. i'll be right back." Dust answered, teleporting out of sight.

"Not a bad strategy." Bill muttered.

"dust's?" Nightmare questioned.

"No, yours. Clever thinking, controlling the hallucination like that." Bill whispered, and Nightmare nodded.

Dust teleported back a moment later, and he said, "they're dead. . . . thanks."

"You're welcome! See you back at home sweet home!" Bill grinned, teleporting out of the AU.

Nightmare sighed, still regretting giving Bill the option to have a room back at his castle, much less stay there, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Nightmare engulfed himself and Dust in a cocoon made by his tentacles before teleporting them out of Dust's timeline and to the castle.

Discord server: https://discord.gg/wQfvxyEuvj

First

#undertale au #undertale #undertale fandom #ao3 fanfic #killer sans #sans undertale #undertale alternate timeline #undertale sans #dust sans #bill cipher #bill sans #undertale fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #nightmare sans #multiversemadness #undertale multiverse #is just chapter three

15 notes · View notes

miscelliteeous · 1 year ago

Text

Been thinking about Spandam again a lot lately for some reason. I was majorly into him back when the Enies Lobby arc was coming out a looooong time ago (please understand this makes me feel very old!) like I printed off pics to keep in my school folders, had a very elaborate selfship (well over a decade before I even heard that term) and all that jazz. Held off on posting this for over a week because it feels a little weird sharing this since they're super old concepts.

Anyways! All that to preface that these headcanons are a tiny bit new, but most are very old concepts from my selfship getting dusted off. Some are a bit toxic, but I mean, it's Spandam, of course they are.

Spandam Headcanons

-General Relationship/History-

He met you through his father’s connections when the two of you were children. Your parents and his arranged a marriage and you and Spandam are expected to accept it.

You spend a month with him every year while your respective parents have a vacation together at a resort.

Spandam whines and bosses you around and you’re expected to put up with it because he’s a year older and his father is a higher rank than yours and this trend continues through the rest of your relationship.

Despite this, you do somewhat enjoy his company, as his weaknesses mean you get to step up and play hero to him often, even if he isn’t the most grateful. And around your teens you realize you do find him cute, even if you would never admit it.

The yearly meetings end when you’re in your late teens and instead you’re stuck having to help plan a reluctant wedding that neither of you are sure you want.

The wedding is long and boring, but you and Spandam surprise each other by having a good time complaining about everything together.

As the years go by and he rises in rank (cough nepobaby cough) you’re by his side, and you get to see a side of him others rarely see. After about a year together, he’d shocked to realize he actually DOES love you, in his own way.

He can be sweet! He likes to spoil you by buying you gifts, and he makes sure you know how expensive/rare they are.

Please join him in being a smug asshole to others and he will be over the moon. Assert your authority belittle, demean, he likes having someone to back him up when he's talking shit.

Honestly can be a pretty shit husband, not gonna lie. You’d need to learn basic combat skills (ideally you’d be trained to an almost Cipher Pol 9 level but he can’t always get what he wants) because in addition to being married to him he’d be expecting you to defend him sometimes.

Do not expect him to put himself in harms way for you though, and he would push you to the ground if it would buy him more time to save himself in a crisis.

No matter how many “spill proof” cups you buy him, he constantly proves them wrong. At least he’s easy to buy gifts for.

It bugs him IMMENSELY that CP9 vastly prefers interacting with you and they actually have a little respect for you.

He does brag about you a lot to his underlings, but its usually in a "my wife is better than you" way, putting others down.

You get to see him without his mask more than anyone else, and he often uses it to elicit sympathy and praise from you. When he’s in a bad mood he’ll sometimes say his face is your fault for not protecting him.

Spandam goes between phases of “no PDA in front of anyone” and “clingy and handsy”, depending on his mood.

The relationship can be rather ‘slap, slap, kiss’ at times, but he doesn’t really hold it against you if you give as good as you get. Sure, he’ll whine and complain that you’re unreasonable, but he’s known you long enough to not take it personally.

So basically: he won’t hesitate to slap you if he’s in a bad mood, so slap him the fuck back! Just be careful, he’s a lot weaker than you. But he’s pretty durable.

Regardless of any fights, he has trouble sleeping at night if he’s not curled up with you so any issues are cleared up before bedtime. He’s much more manageable when it’s just the two of you.

-Family Relationship-

He'd be perfectly happy and fine with never having to see your family again if you don't.

His family though? You’re stuck visiting Spandine any time Spandam wants to.

You’re both expected to continue the family line asap.

Spandam wouldn’t be any extra help during pregnancy, the most he’d do is hire you some assistants or have Funkfreed out more often for you to lean on or to bring you things.

50/50 on if he would miss the birth. It depends on if there’s a work opportunity or not. If he has a chance to rise in rank, he’ll take it.

Same goes for birthdays, anniversaries, and any other holidays. Anything to boost his own standing always comes first.

I’m sorry but there’s a good chance the child would inherit the darker face markings too, or at least the eye ones.

An even worse father than he is a husband, leaves the childcare to you or a nanny. Will not change diapers, clean up throw up, etc.

Still has a fondness for his kid because it’s his, especially if the kid reminds him of himself.

The type to try and buy his kids love and respect.

Unless you took massive steps to curb it, the kid would likely grow up to be a spoiled brat who looks up to Spandam and never realizes how lonely they really feel in his company.

-Misc-

The type to toss and turn in his sleep. Not because he’s tormented or anything but because he can never find the perfect angle to sleep in.

Spandam would only admit it when you’re alone with him, but he likes to lay his head in your lap and have his hair stroked, very calming for such a stressed out guy.

Goes between extremely secure in the relationship to worrying he might lose you to one of his subordinates if you talk to them too long. Then he’s clingy for the rest of the day.

His favorite date spot is anywhere that has a good and highly expensive steak. The price is important because he likes reiterating to you that he can afford very nice things/bragging.

Even if you’re taller, he’d likely call you things like “my little Y/N”, because it makes him feel big and powerful.

During anniversaries when he IS there, he breaks out the good whiskey and likes to has a drink with you.

He acts like he likes black coffee but when he can, he has a SUPER complicated drink order at coffee shops and gets very annoyed when it’s wrong.

You have to put up with him going “don’t you know who I am?!” in public with the dignity and grace that he severely lacks.

If push comes to shove, he wouldn’t hesitate to put your life at risk for his own but he would be very moody and shockingly (to himself) upset with himself for a long time, feeling guilty is something he’s not used to at all.

That being said, it would almost certainly not come to that and you still rank higher in his heart than anyone else.

He’s at your mercy when healing from the Enies Lobby incident and badly injured, but he deserves to be smacked hard for almost leaving you behind during the Buster Call.

Is a lot less smug and a lot more humble towards you after his extensive recovery and being moved to an underling position in CP0.

He becomes a LOT more clingy too, and would prefer you be at his side at all times.

#spandam #one piece #Spandam x reader #cp9 #cp0 #headcanons #selfship #lite work #he’s fun I love this whiny incompetent bastard

31 notes · View notes

fictionthorn · 2 years ago

Note

Hiii. How is it going? :)

If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, could you please write for an SFW ABC for Rob Lucci or Brook?

I love them but I never find so few fanfictions/headcanons about them :(

Thanks!!!

SFW Alphabet: Rob Lucci

CW/TW: None Word Count: 1.0k

Activities - What are their favorite things to do with you? How do you spend your free time?

He likes training/working out with you. Whether it be you training/working out with him or just keeping him company while he does.

Boo! - How do they feel about surprises, giving and receiving?

He doesn't like surprises. Giving or receiving them. He finds them pointless.

Comfort - How do they comfort you when you’re upset? When the tables turn, do they come to you, or do they try to handle it themselves?

He’s not good at comforting you. Honestly, Hattori is better at comforting you when you’re upset. It’s mostly because Lucci doesn’t really know how to comfort.

Lucci knows he doesn’t like seeing you upset but he doesn’t know what to do about it other than take care of whatever or whoever is upsetting you. It might not be perfect, but he tries.

You’ve never seen him upset. Either because he doesn’t get upset or he doesn’t show it. Despite that, you still make sure to check in with him every once in a while. He appreciates how much you care.

Dance - Do they like to dance with you? How good of a dancer are they?

Lucci will not dance with you publicly, but there have been a few moments where he’ll dance with you at home. Usually in the evenings if you have music playing while the two of you clean up dinner.

You’re not sure where he learned but he is a very good dancer.

Excitement - How do they act when they’re excited? What excites them?

For the most part, Lucci acts the same when he’s excited. Aside from maybe a smirk.

He mostly gets excited over successful Cipher Pol missions. He also gets excited to see you when missions are over.

Future - What are their plans for the future? Do they see themselves getting married, having kids?

Lucci never planned on having a relationship. Even after he met you it took him a while to admit his feelings to you.

Now he plans on marrying you. However, he doesn’t plan on having kids.

Gifts - What do they give you as presents? How often do they get you gifts?

Lucci is the type to give you practical gifts. He doesn’t like the idea of getting you something that is just going to sit around so he’ll get you things you can use.

Normally he’ll get you gifts for special occasions like your birthday, holidays, etc.

Hold - How do they hold you? Cuddling, sleeping, holding hands…

When the two of you are out walking around together he’ll usually have an arm around your shoulders.

If your at home hanging out on the couch or something he likes when you sit between his legs.

In bed he tends to have his arms wrapped around your waist.

Ideal - What’s their ideal date like?

He’s a fan of coffee and breakfast dates.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they handle it?

He doesn’t get jealous often but there has been a few times someone has gotten a little too close.

Needless to say it didn’t end well for those people.

Kisses - How do they like to kiss you? How frequently do you kiss?

He doesn’t kiss you too frequently but when he does it’s always a passionate kiss.

Love - How do they show you that they love you?

He protects you. He makes sure you always feel safe.

Melt - What do you do that absolutely makes them melt?

You love him for who he is. He’s considered to be a killing machine by the Navy but that never bothered you.

Nicknames - What do they call you, and what are their favorite things to be called?

He’s not a fan of nicknames.

He likes your name and he likes hearing you say his name.

Obvious - How obvious do they make it that they like you?

Not at all. Lucci’s general personality is cold and distant making him next to impossible to read.

You didn’t know until he told you.

Pets - Do they have pets? Do they want them?

He has Hattori.

Quiet - How are the calm, quiet moments with them?

Most of your moments with him are calm and quiet but it’s comforting. You both just really enjoy each other's company.

Romance - How romantic are they? What are their go-to ways of being romantic?

He does his best on the romantic front.

His go-to way of being romantic is having breakfast ready by the time you wake up in the morning.

Safe - What makes them feel safe and comfortable around you?

The way you care about him. He doesn’t have a lot of people that genuinely care about him.

Tend - How do they act when you’re hurt or sick, and vice versa?

If someone hurts you it angers him to no end. One because you got hurt but also because someone was dumb enough to think they could get away with hurting his partner.

If you get hurt on accident or you’re sick, he’ll make sure no one bothers you so you can get plenty of rest.

He rarely gets hurt or sick but when he does he’ll insist that he’s fine even if it’s obvious he’s not. He doesn’t want to make you worry.

Unique - What’s an unusual thing about them that’s oddly charming?

His ventriloquist act with Hattori. You’ve gotta admit it’s kind of cute.

Variety - Do they prefer to keep things the same, or spice it up?

He likes to spice things up every so often.

Wash - What’s it like taking a bath with them, or helping them wash up after a fight?

It’s one of the few times you can fully get him to relax.

XO - How do they show you affection? How much PDA are they willing to show?

He isn’t a big fan of PDA. The most PDA he’ll show is having an arm around you.

Yearn - What do they do when they miss you?

He tends to miss you when he’s away on Cipher Pol missions.

He’ll do his best not to think about it and focus on his job.

Zzz - How do they act when they get sleepy? How is it sleeping in the same bed?

When he gets tired he’ll just go to bed.

He usually goes to bed before you. When you come to bed he’ll wait until you lay down before pulling you closer to him.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #sfw alphabet #rob lucci #rob lucci headcanons #rob lucci sfw alphabet #one piece cp9

55 notes · View notes

xino-writes · 6 months ago

Text

Whumptober 2024 Day 30 - "who said you could rest?" - sampo

[ao3 series link]

Sampo was tired, utterly exhausted. Some stupid mission he’d volunteered for had taken up too much of his time, and it’s still ongoing. He needs sleep, but this mission is far too important. Something something spy business. It was his decision, though, so he’s stuck here until whatever happens next. And he hopes that whatever happens next is something that will let him finally sleep.

He’s used to going hours without sleep, per se, but he also isn’t used to the amount of effort he’s having to put into this mission. Infiltration wasn’t easy, and then he was constantly assigned, ugh, jobs by these people. It’s not fun in the slightest, and he can’t focus at all with this newfound lack of sleep. Part of him wants to just.. nap and then leave, let the mission sit unfinished.

He’s spent too much time away from home, and he’s getting restless. But that just might be partly due to his sleep deprivation, and the fact he finds himself falling asleep while sitting in place most of the time. He needs to move, not be stuck doing stupid office work as part of his cover. Being forced into an office job as his cover, and then having to spend nights searching through the building has sucked.. And that’s not only because of the sleep deprivation.

Frankly, Sampo misses his friends and family right now. He was instructed to drop all contact with the outside world for this mission, and being in Penacony alone is just.. not fun. There’s people he recognizes here, don’t get him wrong, and Sparkle’s company is.. Well it’s company! And he knows her! And can talk to her during his investigations! When talking isn’t too much of a risk, that is. He’s not ruining this mission because he’s starved for interaction.

Besides, his ‘coworkers’ are tolerable. Some of them are clearly tied up in the deeper trenches, but the others are just.. unfortunate people caught in an unfortunate situation. And he has to figure out who’s who. Which means people watching. Which is annoying when you’re entirely bored of this stupid job and all these people that are surrounding you. But he pushes through regardless, and listens in different conversations.

It’s mostly gossip. Or maybe it’s all gossip. He at least understands the hierarchy of this little office now, at least. Most people seem to find him.. odd, and he likes it. It gives him a good cover that he doesn’t even need to build up by himself. Being the weirdo of the office lets him get away with some things, too. He can tap notes into his phone, all in a code he’d come up with as a child. (That only himself and two others know the cipher for. So it’s a good cipher, if he says so himself.)

And no one seems to suspect a thing, based on what he hears and the fact he’s still working here without being called out. Though, perhaps, it’d be more fun if he got called out! Because that way he can actually sleep! Because he’s been exhausted this entire time, and if it weren’t for coffee and caffeine pills he’d have passed out at his desk long ago. Man, call him a hypocrite, telling Gepard to actually rest when he’s.. Doing this. All of this.

It’s fine. He’ll be fine. Sleep deprivation can’t get to him if he’s stimulating his mind! Right? Right?? He’ll be okay! He just needs to finish this mission by listening to the most boring gossip in the world and by digging through paperwork when he sneaks in at night! Which is also boring! Because he’s made no progress since infiltration! And he feels useless for that fact alone! Woohoo!

He’s having so much fun getting nothing of importance done! He chose this job, this role, for the thrills, and he’s getting nothing done except for finding this ‘Sunday’ fellow realllyyy suspicious, but all of that investigating important figures is Sparkle’s job, so he can’t even do anything outside of this stupid ass office job while falling asleep at his desk.

And listening to music isn’t even helping! Hatsune Miku’s wonderous voice isn’t even keeping him awake! It’s making him sleepy! And he can’t have that, no! He needs to stay awake and get this all done! Because if he misses a night, there’s a chance he can miss everything! So it’s a diet of whatever food he can think of, caffeine pills, and coffee from now on! And occasionally an energy drink!

Speaking of which, he’s standing in the middle of the office he usually is working in, and he’s racking his mind for the places the most suspicious people would be usually. He’s already checked most filing cabinets, having picked their locks before deeming every file useless or uninteresting enough that he set them aside. And the only thing he’d found was a keycard, which he didn’t know the purpose of.

After all, in his infiltration, he never got one for this position. And, okay, maybe he should be sucking up to the higher ups to get into a trustworthy position for this. But, this is a far more fun alternative than praising people who don’t deserve it, so he’ll stick with his initial plan. He exhales and walks to the only other place he hasn’t checked. The ‘unused’ office that’s been locked since he began to work here at this location.

It takes him longer than normal, the exhaustion permeating his body as his hands shake. He’s tired, having almost passed out on the way here. He pushes the door open as soon as the lock clicks, and he exhales, looking over his shoulder for a quick moment. No one’s there, he’s just being paranoid. He shakes his head, and then walks over to the filing cabinets in the backmost corner.

Screw being thorough and only taking what’s necessary, he shoves the files from the locked drawers into his bag, careful enough to not damage them, but still reckless. He’s tired and wants to get at least an hour of sleep tonight. He’s far more focused on the files, getting them together. He’ll give them to Sparkle later, because he enjoys inconviencing her more than most things.

And then he turns around, and that’s when he realizes that he’s been caught. And there’s no getting out of the gun pointed directly at his forehead. He drops the bag, and steps backwards. There’s gotta be an escape route. He was reckless and stupid. He should’ve planned things better. He didn’t even disguise himself, he was just plain ‘ol Sampo Koski for this. And now he’s on the other end of a gun.

He clenches his fist. No way out, not unless he fights. He lunges forward, drawing his daggers and going for the hand of the gun’s handler. He barely gets a slice in before he needs to retreat and then go again, this time hitting the gun, the screech of metal on metal worsening his sleep deprievation headache. He groans and then goes for the hit again and again and again until the other drops the gun and he can easily.. decommisson them.

He picks his bag back up, and he makes his way to leave the building. He really deserves that nap, now. Perhaps he’ll take off tomorrow, too. Hell, he might as well be fired, with how his face was clearly seen by the man he’d killed. And there’s no denying that he’s most definitely been caught by now. Guess he wasted his time by ‘doing’ paperwork. (He’d fudged it. Messed it all up intentionally. After all, if he and Sparkle didn’t get anything done, at least he could get them hit with fraud. Possibly.)

Regardless, Sampo’s gotta get home. He’s got a bed calling his name, and a series of texts to make. Screw staying without contact to those he care about, because even if his texts are watched, he’ll enjoy the pain that comes with witnesses Gepard’s oblivious to his flirting. He may be dating the most clueless man in the world when it comes to things like that, but he still does it. It’s funny watching the other realize that he was flirting after the fact.

Once out of the building, he pulls out his “mission only” phone, and sends a voice message to Sparkle.

“Cover’s blown. Dude saw my face. Got a kill onto my count, though. I’ll reach two thousand before you.” And then he shoves it right back into his pocket and continues his walk to his temporary home. He may be walking slowly, but he’s tired as fuck and really, just really, wants to go to bed. To just collapse into the mattress, ignore the pillows and sheets and blankets and just snooze away.

If only he didn’t have to walk there, and could just.. appear there whenever he wants to. Sadly, that’s just.. not possible. Not right now, at least.

#sampard #tw death

6 notes · View notes