#but he Does understand how people people guys.

[evilminji]

Oh god :Dc a Danny Summons Contract

No you guys DON'T UNDERSTAND-!

Just. Danny! Only Danny! He fucked up. Some ancient Warring States Ninja fucked up. They BOTH agreed to NEVER talk about it again.

Cause like? That ninja? Was a GROWN ASS MAN. A qualified BAMF of the highest order. He WAS the Danger, thank you very much. So, he? Will NEVER live down being saved by...well...

*holds up wildly struggling, noodle limbed, sad wet raccoon havin a terrible day lookin, meat thresher on legs*

THIS.

It's a BABY. Honestly, his Clan's TODDLERS know how to throw better punch. This scrawny infant baby child is both? His new son. AND an embarrassing trainwreck in motion. FFS kid, that's not how you- No! NO! Don't you DARE bite that opponent! You don't know where they've B-!

Kid they could have BEEN POISONED!!! Spit um OUT! DROP UM! Drop that RIGHT NOW! What are you? A dead Inuzuka? A god forsaken Hatake!? DROP IT!!!

It...sure is An Adventure™.

One of many early "here's how you DON'T make a Summoning contract" experiments, that Clans without seal masters were attempting. He's honestly lucky HIS attempt ended with him still... you know... ALIVE. Problem, though? After bunking for like... a few months? A year? In the command center?

And you know, terrorizing the GIW into complete collapse. Parenting him through some pretty serious life changes. Somehow making Sam MORE terrifying. And a whole host of off screen ninja shenanigans? They figure out? Oh. Only way to send him HOME is to either accept or refuse a Contract.

They gotta make one.

First they head to Frostbite for a recommendation, then? Off to a reputable Ghost Lawyer they go! They have to camp in the waiting room for like... a week. But? Worth it! The contract is AMAZING. And terrifying! Protects them both. Can't be used against EITHER. And that loophole you're thinking off? Ten pages worth of point 4 script, twenty three yards down, for why it's a BAD IDEA and breaks contract~!

Neither of them can make the other do SHIT! Only fully consensual, mutually beneficial, ass kicking here! If we FEEL LIKE IT!

Ninja dad insisted. Never sign a contract with anything less then extreme paranoia, kid! Leave no "implied" or "spirit of the rules"! Loopholes are holes in your armor, with which your enemy stabs you in the back!

Danny, tearfully, sends ninja dad home.

Gross. Emotions all over his armor. If only there wasn't all this sand in his eyes, he'd definitely complain about it. *stoic ninja hug*

Danny? Become a king. One of many. An Ancient. Becomes FUCKING HUUUUUUUUGE. Like? "Aw, your city is so pwecious~☆ n smol~♡! Whats it called again? New York?" Huge. A fuckin LEVIATHAN made of void, stars, and space ice. A Winter corpse, marked by lightning, that became the night sky itself. With a crown of aurora borealis, ever shifting, like flame.

Proportional, in a way, to Summon Bosses. Just as a normal human is to a normal toad, a normal cat, a normal slug. So too, is Danny LARGER then them.

You know... when he feels like it.

The contract? Passes down. Ninja dad does warn his kin. Prooooobably not gonna answer you. He only answers ME cause I'm, well, ME.

Fuckin BET. They declare. And lose. Repeatedly.

Time marches on. The Senju and Uchiha has their Drama. Dear KAMI do they Have Their Drama. Please Stop, says everyone. They... do not. The contract? Fuckin STOLEN. Because of course it is.

It's a HUGE, glowing, death radiating Summons Contract kept in a shrine behind like... SO MANY seals. It makes anyone less then a full grown JOUNIN physically SICK to even touch! Prolonged exposure kills people! Of COURSE it gets fuckin stolen. It's obviously a super, mega, ultra rare AMAZEBALLS Summon Contract... right?

Eeeeeeeeeeeh *so-so hand motion* KINDA!

It IS technically that.

They ain't wrong. Cause Danny IS an Adult now. A King. Connected to the Zone. An ANCIENT. Beyond and Above his mortal origins, even as, by being a Halfa, he is utterly the same. That contract is as close as one could GET to having a contract with the Sage himself.

You know... if he answered you.

Felt like your petty bullshit was worth getting up off the couch for.

Not to MENTION? He can make clones! Like.... billions of them now. Has a skeleton army. Is kinda one of the stronger Ancients. But that's not the point. The POINT? Clones. Don't have to be EQUAL facets of self.

You CAN make a .00001% clone of yourself!

Behold *summons poof noise* Lil Baby Man!

The harbinger of Danny! Here to Test Your VIBEZ™. He sends them each time. To be an adorable menace. Cause problems on purpose. Be gremlins, chew on table legs, maybe. You know, the works! They RADIATE his " I Am Death." Energy. But also his "winter, protection, and starlight" vibes... if you're brave enough to LOOK.

If you don't flinch away from a spirit of the dead. Can embrace the chaotic nature of a Zone ghost. Are kind to something that isn't what you expected, that you can USE, that appears weaker then you. Something that seems dumb. Distractable. Useless in battle.

Can you be kind? Do you immediately give up? To recognize a test when you see one? Is your first impulse cruelty? Distain? It tells Danny a lot. Saves him time.

Which? Is how a young Itachi, freshly Jounin'd, gets thrown through an old and rotting wooden gate into what LOOKS like a vaguely demonic death shrine. Hmmm, concerning. Baby 'tachi has been separated from his teammates. Is having a Bad Time™. The crows can't really help much here.

And, well, that IS a Summoning contract...

He's outnumbered. Low on both weapons and Chakra. Refuses to do anything BUT return home to his family. His baby brother. Is it WISE? No. It is in fact, incredibly, incredibly UNWISE. He has no idea what he'll be agreeing too. But... so long as he live just a bit longer...

He slams an earth wall against the entrance.

Falls back to the Glowing Contract.

Stumbles, as even landing near it makes his insides revolt. His skin prickle and burn. Colder then the nine tails Chakra, emptier, yet somehow endlessly more ABSOLUTE.

It's like the very Chakra in his body screams against it. Rejects it's mere presence. As though all thing alive REFUSE it with desperation and fear. He has no time to muse upon this. It hurt his hand to touch. He does so anyway. Struggling to hold the earthwall against enemy attacks.

He doesn't bother to read the contract. Flings it from the pedestal, to unravel, so he may sign quickly. There. With a practiced motion, he nicks his finger, and scrawls his future away. Whatever demons may come. Whatever monsters this brings. Please... let him live long enough to say goodbye.

The world CRACKS as he summons.

Death and the Shinigami are not the same.

Even those without the ability to sense are battered by the tsunami of... not killing intent. No. There is no intent. No killing. Just... knowing. Heraldry. That Death comes for us all. You can not escape. Foolish and small, is this what you waste your existence on? Ants before a god. Dust before the heavens. He... he can not... breathe...

Frozen. Eyes wide. Sharigan spinning, spinning, spinning. Capturing the delicate lace of nothingness, absence of life, as it drifts by. Unable to move from where he kneels, bloody hand pressed to the ground, in a Summoning.

What Has He Done?

Outside there is panic. Screaming. They flee. He... he wishes he could flee. W...why can't he-? *THHHWAP!* Mmmmph?! Something small and almost bird shaped smacks into his face like a flung ration. Tiny arms spread wide to cling to his bangs and dangle. The deathy power fades... almost... almost as though it were... a threat display?

He focuses on the tiny creature whining and hugging his face. It... is a floating snake toddler? Or is it dragon? They have sharp little claws and stars along their face, a tiny whispy mane of white. Likely a dragon child then. They stick their small tounge out slightly, eyes the blankly trusting stare of small children everywhere.

He clearly want to be carried. Ah. Of course, little one.

Did... did he agree to raise a dragon?

Just?

Itachi, smol. Serious. With lil baby man floped on his head or tucked lovingly in his arms. The TEXTBOOK definition of "he don't bite" "YES HE DO!!!" For everyone but Itachi and Sasuke. To whom he is, of course, an INNOCENT BABY who has NEVER done anything wrong EVER. An angel! Why is everyone being so MEAN to poor innocent baby man? Boo hoo~!

It fucks up SO MANY plans.

Because Itachi. A smol child. INSISTS he is a Father now. What are you going to do? Say he can be? Why? Because he's a CHILD? Which is it? Is he a Jounin or a Dependant? An adult in the eyes of the law or a child to be protected by said law from pushing him off to war? Old enough to die, old enough to parent his dragon son!

And SORRY Father, he CANT join Anbu. Who would be there for his child? Ah, he should join a parenting group. *various competent parent instincts go haywire over this tiny Uchiha child in need of parenting* Danzo? For some reason his son seems to really, REALLY hate him. Better avoid him. His child doesn't know yet not to bite respected elders.

Sasuke? Gets to be an UNCLE! To a DRAGON! He takes his job very seriously.

It's the best PR the clan has ever had.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

[slimepuparibaba]

More Sylus HCs, oh no... (and it's FLUFFY??? for SYLUS??? HUH???)

Listen he's an edge lord sure but even edgelords have their soft side (I should know I'm dating an edgelord IRL)

sylus is the kind of guy to style you in his clothing and laugh because it does not fit at all but he finds it cute how you're trying to look bad ass when he thinks you look like a goddamn dork

he questions how the fuck you're alive because seriously, how is someone this clumsy? the amount of times you accidentally injured yourself trying to one up him is insane, he has to basically TEACH you how to actually catch him off guard, and when you do, he's proud of you for it

he'll spoil you defo except you have to bribe him for it via kisses or hugs. not cuz he wants them (he does) but because he likes seeing your face scrunching up as you realize you have to do his bidding just to get what you want (he would've given it to you anyway but your reaction is just really cute)

no such thing as going easy with him. he knows you can take what he throws at you so kitty cards is hard mode, video games also hard mode, training, etc. going easy is not his style cuz he knows you're his equal and respects that.

but like if you're having a weak moment he will actually slow down and check on you in his own sylus way. he knows your limits, he won't go too far.

that's right. I said it. he's respectful. is he an asshole? yes but he is a gentleman (mostly) ((when he isn't being an asshole)) (((okay but like genuinely you are one of the few people he can be soft for)))

If he's had a long day being the head of Onichynus he knows he can come home to you to destress. maybe he's tired of being tough and scary, maybe he just wants to laugh with you and make dinner with you and stuff

guys I want my headcanons to be real frfr okay

he can kill people but bet he's doing it for you

he's watching you and making sure you're okay you are such a big part of his reason for doing what he does, so he holds you in the highest regard

even if you hate him, he's just glad you're at least giving him consideration and recognizing he exists. he'll hope one day you can understand where he's coming from (he won't admit it though cuz you choose what you choose) but until then he'll be fine with you being hostile

he'll play the part well while still making sure you're safe. he'll bring you back time and time and time again

I'm just saying he is a Villain but only because he has to be in order to protect you. No one else matters. Only you.

[dreamings-free]

Weird how y’all don’t want Louis to come out from under the shadow of the band and to be known as a solo artist. He’s still referred to almost exclusively as Louis from 1D… and playing a setlist that is 1/3 covers is not helping him overcome that. He will always play 1D songs, we all know that, but 3 out of 13 songs is excessive and you know it. And before you say some bs like “there’s nothing wrong with being known as Louis from 1D”…. There is when he’s so much more than just the band and the songs he wrote when he was 22. It’s possible to honor the band and be proud of his past while also wanting him to move on from it.

There’s also the added annoyance that everyone always just assumes that all his fans only like him because of the band and that he hasn’t been able to gain any fans through his own music. It doesn’t piss you off when his crowds are described as directioners? Playing festival sets using that many 1D songs as a safety blanket is just playing into that stereotype and it does him a massive disservice.

the issue here, anon is that unlike you louis isn’t embarrassed about being 'louis from one direction'

it’s funny how you guys keep accusing me and other (sane) people of not liking louis for who he is and yet here you are belittling him for his past and for being proud of his past achievements?!

and no I "don’t know it".. that is not the hottake you think it is. the thing is you are way way too hung up on some of the songs in his setlists being 1D songs. who cares? fans who know (and love) those songs are happy to see them reimagined to fit with louis’ current style. people at a festival who might recognise some of his songs as being 1D will probably just think 'hey I know that one but this guitar heavy version is cool!' people who aren’t familiar with 1D won’t even know they’re 1D songs and will like or dislike them regardless..?!

also louis clearly chose that setlist because every single song is A BANGER in a live set. people at festivals are often drunk and exhausted and if they happen to stumble into louis tomlinson’s late afternoon set they’re gonna fall asleep if he pulls out songs like chicago or saturdays. thinking the megamix with its slow intro is gonna work in the bright afternoon sunlight.. have you even been to a festival? louis and steve crafted this setlist because they know through years of experience (and a heavy dose of good taste and simple common sense) that this setlist is gonna keep a mixed festival crowd engaged. I've seen people complain about WDBHG and honestly if you can’t understand the sheer genius of giving that perfect pop song a rock makeover AND adding in that little baba o’riley bit.. which soo many people in a festival crowd will recognise - I’m sorry but you don’t deserve the magic that is the combined tomlinson-durham mastermind!

and finally because that comment really piss me off; how tf are 1D songs "a safety blanket" while in the same breath you're saying new listeners won't like him.. because he's associated with 1D. again, it's not me who doesn't like louis for who he is, is it?

[megabuild]

mumbo said in his recent video that he sees etho as someone who "doesnt show a lot of positive emotion towards people " and thats why he kept the mumbo statue that he thought etho built of him even after joel said he was the one who built it and said he made it ugly on purpose and was surprised mumbo didnt tear it down . said he nearly cried seeing it. what do u think about etho "not showing a lot of positive emotion" do you think thats true

i don't think it's necessarily true but i can see where mumbo's coming from (with the obvious disclaimer that this is all just my own personal feelings, and mumbo is the guy who actually knows him in person and has for some time).

mumbo and etho's relationship or lack thereof is generally pretty fascinating to me because while they both have been on the same server for a long time they've rarely, if ever, interacted or collaborated. unsurprising given that both tend to keep to their own respective groups. agonising for me as a big fan of them both but anyways. i think it's also important to remember that mumbo started mcyt pretty young and watched a lot of his now friends before knowing them (eg. in the same clip you mentioned above he talks about being a big fan of joel's!) so i don't think it's a stretch to say that despite knowing etho personally, i think he could still be in that stage of mythologising etho that a lot of creators who collab with him have went through in the past... tune into 3rd life, mcc 33, hell the elybeatmaker among us stream. i don't think i gotta explain how many people look up to him as this unknowable figure of old mcyt. factor in that he has his hand in a lot of early redstone developments and continues to achieve new things with it to this day and i think it's understandable why mumbo might idolise him to the point of dissociating etho the redstoner from etho the guy

this also isn't helped but the fact that while etho does show positive emotion, definitely, his positive emotions towards others often come across in a way that can be hard to recognise if you aren't looking for it.. etho is full of snark and callbacks and if you don't understand the context around those they might not make sense, but his way of showing care is also far from obvious. another recent example would be the tour of bdubs' base where he told people how to set their light levels. a lot of people on here freaked out over that but if you step back and look at it it's not really.. that obvious that it's a sign of care and positivity towards bdubs, because he's just stating facts. etho can be very literal and i think he likes to rely on stuff like that to show his affection, but that might not be obvious to everyone.

ultimately while i get what mumbo means i think a lot of it comes down to etho being very particular, and they just haven't spent enough time working together one on one to figure out those peculiarities yet. despite everyone on hermitcraft knowing each other and being friends to a degree it's undeniable that parts of the server are more split into groups than others, sort of like a fucked up venn diagram of common collaborators, and etho's in particular is pretty small. but i hope they do collab properly someday.. i really really hope they do

[caustinen]

Omg I’m actually so in love with your Hollywood au 😭😭 do you have any headcanons for them? Like how they started dating, or what they do on a daily basis, general domestic things!!

Hi!! Sorry I took so long to reply but your ask sent me SPIRALLING — this whole au was such a random quick thing and I never expected it to go anywhere, but thinking of a response to this I got so into it I might actually manage to write something!

Just the first meeting hc got so ridiculously long that I’ll respond to the domestic hc’s (I HAVE SO MANY) on a separate post and tag you! Thank you for the inspiration luv 💘

HOLLYWOOD AU! First meeting:

Their first impressions are not very good… John hasn’t made it big yet but he’s definitely getting some attention so he decides to relocate to Hollywood and find a good PR-team around himself despite having always thought that the marketing/branding side of his profession is capitalistic nonsense — and while he has changed his attitude to the exctent of ”if you can’t beat them join them”, he’d still expect all the suits to be cold business men who don’t care about the art of it all.

Gale on the other hand expects all actor clients to be self-obsessed nepo pricks; he’s been climbing in the industry steadily for years and enjoys the challenge of bringing the best versions of people out and finding them their best options (he takes pride in being very good at what he does) but since initially he ended up in the industry through his love for film, he’s also often annoyed by the up-and-coming stars who only care for the fame.

Loud, relaxed and seemingly no-care-in-the-world John fits this prejudice perfectly, as does John’s expectation for an uptight, borderline rude PR-executive in a suit — at the end of the meeting he chooses a much more laid-back seeming guy called Brady to represent him, and Gale is relieved he’s not stuck with him, he really is, despite the teasing, annoying smile of that bastard refusing to leave his mind for the rest of the day.

Their second meeting is somehow WORSE, in a week or so a meeting runs long so Brady invites John to after-work drinks. Gale looks so different out of his suit (now in a white t-shirt and black pants that hug his waist tightly, hair mussled and curlier after a long day of running his hands through it) that Bucky is absolutely blinded for a second and goes to introduce himself flirtily. Gale stares at him for a bit before informing him they met last week and while John is able to laugh it off with the others, this doesn’t exactly help with Gale’s image of him (why can’t i get that smirk off my mind when he couldn’t even bother to note me??)

It doesn’t help that Bucky gets very drunk and keeps seeking his company, not caring he’s only receiving grunts as reply to his stories told draped over the blonde’s shoulders as Gale sips on his non-alcoholic beer (he also shares the Buck story and starts calling him Buck like in the show), and whatever progress John might’ve done to make him almost smile a couple of times is undone immediately as he flirts with everyone else just as much when he leaves Gale’s side, cementing him in Gale’s mind as a playboy who’s gotten a bit too into his own head with his modest success lately and decides to forget all about him.

After that they run each other a couple of times at the office and social gatherings, and things are civil enough, they chat briefly each time but there’s some strange tension between them that makes Gale uneasy and John confused and a bit frustrated because he usually gets along with everyone but this man just seems to be immune to his usual charm; he can’t understand why the man is seems so cold and barely ever speaks up, that sweet smile he rarely sees him show others is completely wasted on him in his opinion.

They only properly meet again at a premier of John’s new movie a couple of months down the road, the first one under Gale’s firm, and end up in the backroom between the red carpet and John walking into the theater post-film (Brady is busy with organizing everything) and it’s TENSE, they’ve never been in a room by just the two of them and John is obviously nervous wreck which makes him antsy and Gale isn’t making any effort to make small-talk to ease his nerves (he’s not a natural at that okay, and esp with John he doesn’t know what to say)

Only when John is basically doubled over on the couch groaning into his hands as the film approaches its end Gale is forced to interfere. ”Why are you so upset?” ”They’re gonna hate it.” Gale is thrown off, never expecting to see this vulerable side underneath all that loud confidence. ”They’re not gonna hate it.” John scoffs. ”And how would you know?” Gale frowns, annoyed. ”Listen, it’s not Casablanca but you had to know that walking into the project, and you give it enough life to keep the tension up ’till the end. This is your best work since Thorpe Abbotts so just sit back and relax.”

John stares at him, mouth open, despair forgotten for a while. ”You know my work?” he asks, blindsighted, and Gale blushes and turns away. ”Maybe. I go to most films they show in my local theatre so don’t make too much of it.” John doesn’t have time to digest the words properly before he’s ushered to take the applause of the crowd, but it stays with him.

Things shift after that. John starts to pay attention to what Gale says, and realizes while he might speak rarely, when he does it’s always meaningful and thought-out. When Brady wants to make him do some new audition tapes he asks him to bring some of his collegues for second opinions, and he’s satisfied to see Gale roll up to the little studio they’ve rented one afternoon.

Wanting to impress Gale apparently works wonders because he feels like he reaches a new level with scene they’re working with, and the feedback reflects this. Even Gale gives him an approving nod, which somehow sends butterflies down his insides.

He turns his show-off when they go for drinks as a group next time to actually have a conversation with the blonde, and it turns out Gale is OBSESSED with old hollywood — whenever things were bad in his childhood home (often) he’d hide himself into the world of fiction of all kinds, and he’s seen an obscene number of films and loves learning trivia about it too, film star biographies are his favorite genre of books. He used to go to his little local movie theatre so much he was eventually offered a job there and could help with picking the movies, but his brief dreams of being an actor were never realized as he knew he needed a less pecarious job to give himself the stability his childhood home didn’t offer.

Learning these pieces of information draws John even more facinated with him, and Gale seems to be laughing at more and more of his jokes too. Once Gale lets his guard down he has also started to see John underneath the bravado, and makes mental notes to check out the books he recommends and he might even lightly flirt back these days, secretly enjoying the those dark, observant eyes fixed on him and squeezing into a surprised smile.

All in all, it’s been going better for a while until a faithful day, when they’re doing another auditiong tape. Bucky’s been rejected from a film he really wanted earlier that day, and his previous film has gotten some lukrwarm reviews upon getting into streaming services, so he’s in a shitty mood, and the unimpressed faces Gale keeps making annoy him to no end.

They call it a day and they agree to meet at a bar closeby to start the weekend and get everyone’s spirits up. The beer only serves to make Bucky more upset tho, espescially when he sees Gale hitting it up with someone who walks up to him, laughing at his stuff and looking relaxed in a way he never quite does with him. A bit drunk and a lot angry he follows him to the bathroom, Gale noticing him as he walks in with the same swing of the door. He turns around and greets him, the smile from talking to that whatever dude still lingering on his lips being John’s final straw.

”Oh, so you can be happy? Thought it was fucking impossible to achieve.” Gale’s smile immediately drops and his posture shifts, arms crossing over his chest. ”What are you talking about?” ”You’re always making those faces no matter what I do. You’ll ruin your pretty face with all that frowning.” ”What on earth are you-” ”When I try to talk with you. Or when I do a scene and you’re supposed to help but you just keep looking at me like I’m an idiot. I don’r get it.”

Gale starts to get upset too now, something John has never seen before, his calmness finally breaking. ”What do you want me to say?!” ”I don’t know, be fucking supportive for once?!” ”I am being supportive by being honest! Do you think that was the best you can do?” It surprises John, but he’s already too worked up to back down. ”Well what if it is?” They’ve gotten closer to each other in the empty men’s room, and Gale’s hands are no longer crossed, he’s pointing at John’s chest and staring him down. ”You have so much goddman potential, John Egan, and it’s killing me to see you waste it like that. Reach for something bigger. Get more complex charachters, more nunaced scripts. If it takes you hating me to hear that then so be it.” John scoffs despite the blush trying to creep to his cheeks. ”Well since you know fucking everything maybe you should help me find those roles.” ”I’m not your agent, or your publicist, or your mom, or your boyfriend, I don’t see how it’s any of my-” They’re practically yelling at each other, and without thinking John takes the wrist of Gale’s hand poking his chest to his and pushes it down so they’re chest to chest, noses almost touching, so close they’ve gotten. ”Maybe you could just help me out if you didn’t hate me so much.” John isn’t yelling anymore, and all of Gale’s nerves are on fire, he can feel John’s breath on his cheeks, his own pulse pounding in his chest. ”I don’t hate-” And that’s as far as he gets before John crashes their lips together, the small movement inevidable as the sun coming up each morning.

Gale makes a muffled sound into the kiss and goes to grab his shirt, pulling him closer as John reaches to cup the back of his head. The kiss is just as messy and teethy and perfect as the months of growing tension between them has promised. Gale wants to climb him and bite him and drag him down the floor, his own desire punching air out of him as John stumbles until his back hits the wall, his big hand protecting his head from the hard impact. They are lost in it until their lips are swollen and bruised and they’re both more than half-hard after being pressed so tightly together, and Gale bites his abused lips to silence a moan trying to escape him as John dips down to suck and lick on his sweaty neck, his own hand tangling in his curls and pulling and feeling victorious as John makes a choked sound. He pulls until their eyes meet again, and he’s sure his own pupils are as big as John’s as they stare at each other for a moment, both of them trying to catch their breath like they just ran a marathon. ”You drive me fucking insane,” Gale grits at him, and John laughs a short sound. ”I drive you insane?! You’re the one prancing around… Being all, you know, intelligent and sexy with your James Dean features and Paul Newman eyes.” Gale stares at him for a little bit, mouth open, before pulling him into another kiss.

They go back to Gale’s eventually (Gale comes back to himself enough to realize he does not want to be caught with all his collegues on the other side of the bathroom wall) and they make out for a while more, little less heated but just as passionate, but when it’s getting more intense again John has a moment of clarity and pulls away. He’s drunk and tired and overwhelmed and he doesn’t want this to be just a hook-up. Gale understands but asks John to stay the night anyway and he ends up sleeping on his coach that night. It’s a bit awkward in the morning because neither of them really knows what to say and John’s just about to leave, thinking this was a mistake after all, when Gale suggest they’d watch a movie, and the nervous hope in his face grips John’s heart enough to realize there’s no walking away from what he’s started to feel for this man. They watch a film, and another, and by the third the funny commentary both of them make has shifted into the movie playing in the background as they make out, Gale in John’s lap, and it feels right.

John ends up staying the whole weekend, they just watch films and make dinner together and get to know each other. John is scared he’ll overstay his welcome but Gale makes it feel natural, and the exciting newness of it all is addicting, and perhaps exactly because they’ve had to overcome so many of their own prejudices about the other everything feels more vibrant and exciting. Seeing Gale relaxed and smiely and silly and nervous as he rolls his eyes at him when he sings along to the radio as they cook makes his heart miss a beat. He’s completely prepared to not go further than kissing for now but after a delicious, footsie heavy dinner on Sunday evening at Gale’s kitchen they finally end up in bed, and it feels just right that their first time together is slow and searching and absolutely perfect, and they get the final confirmation that their chemistry seems to be working out pretty fucking well.

After that weekend, John never accepts a role without running it by Gale first (they often read them together naked in bed on the weekends, making each other giggle while dramatically imaging the scenes while leaning into each other amongst the fluffy pillows), and within a year he’s a rising star and his name is on everyone’s lips, but he’s only got one pair of lips in mind.

It isn’t just smooth sailing after that either, navigating a relationship and his career and the publicy, but as slow as their love might have started it’s all the more steady for it, and it never stops growing.

SORRY THIS GOT SO INTENSE!!! Literally all of this came to me as I thought how to respond to your ask so thank you for being a major motivation 🖤

[thegoldencontracts]

Hello hello! I’ve got an interesting request (I think)

(*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

How would Lilia, Riddle, Ruggie, and whoever else you wanna add react to the normally shy and sweet reader breaking sone creep’s wrist? Like, some guy is being weird, maybe even touchy, so reader breaks his wrist, and after character takes reader away, reader breaks down saying how scared they were.

Hello! Thank you for the request :3! This was a new concept to write about for me, and it was very refreshing. And, of course, as a massive Azul fan, you know I had to do include him.

Justice Of One's Own

Summary: You've always been a shy, unassuming individual. So, when he sees you break the wrist of someone harassing you, it's quite the shock. How does he react? Trigger Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment, mild depictions of violence. Characters: Lilia, Riddle, Ruggie, Azul Genre: Hurt/Comfort (Reader being comforted)

Lilia Vanrouge

He's not particularly shocked.

After all, he's seen how you get when he jumpscares you, and, well, you've always had that hidden strength.

He can tell you're rather shaken emotionally, of course, so he finds an excuse to get you away. Diasomnia really gets you, you see.

Afterwards, when you break down, he's understanding. He offers you comfort, and surprisingly good advice.

He's seen this sort of thing play out before, and he knows what it's like to be in the receiving end of harassment himself, considering his own looks. People - especially people who mistook him for a woman - could get extremely touchy.

He might offer to cook for you. In that case, as appreciated as the offer is, you might want to turn him down.

The creep in question gets a nice... "talking to". What happened shall be left to the imagination, but it's safe to say the individual in question is even more terrified around you than they were after the broken wrist.

Riddle Rosehearts

The very sight of such harassment, so crude, so clearly in violation of the rules already had Riddle absolutely outraged.

He himself was just about to intervene when he heard the cracking sound, and the bastard's wrist went limp. It's quite apparent what you've done.

In all honesty, he's shocked - you were always the quiet, meek sort. He never knew you had it in you.

Although before his overblot, he might be somewhat outraged by your own behavior, afterwards, he'd be guilty for ever letting that thought cross his mind. He knows the staff members of the school; they'd never punish you for such a deed.

Seeing you sputter in a panic, he collars the person so brazenly harassing you, giving them a long talking to. It's safe to say they'll be wearing the collar for a while.

Afterwards, he attempts to offer you comfort the best he can, though he is admittedly a bit awkward about it.

Expect to see the person that harassed you collared for quite a while.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie always could tell you were stronger than you looked.

It was the way you'd knock over weights by accident, the sheer strength with which you once decked him after he snuck up on you - You were so apologetic about that it was hilarious. He got a bunch of donuts out of it too.

Although Ruggie absolutely feels bad for you, watching the fucker creeping on you get what's coming to them is hilarious. He took a picture.

He says something about you needing to help him get Leona's favorite food, or whatever. Anything to put whatever this is to an end.

Honestly, Ruggie isn't very openly comforting, but you can tell he's worried. He keeps asking if you need anything, if you're okay, fussing over you like a mom.

He even gave you donuts. At that point, you were beginning to wonder whether he was sick or something. Although, this behavior from him is really heartwarming, and it does distract you from your own lingering discomfort.

Afterwards, Ruggie's got a new target whenever he wants someone to pickpocket.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was already in a terrible mood, and witnessing some charlatan harassing you did nothing to change that. In the Lounge? This was supposed to be a gentlemanly environment, he cannot have his reputation be tarnished by these sorts of insolent individuals!

That's what he tells himself, at least, the reason he plans to state before having the fool who treated you so terribly escorted out. Truth be told, he's also outraged on your behalf, terribly concerned for your well-being.

It's quite the pleasant surprise when you take care of the issue yourself. Your hand is swift and merciless, leaving the little prat with a broken wrist. He knew you had that sort of strength, really, he just never anticipated you having it in you to perform such an act.

Afterwards, you're clearly panicked, struggling to handle the situation, so he strolls up and 'kindly' informs the pervert they've been banned.

He offers you a free meal for your troubles, able to be claimed right now. Additionally, he advised you to eat in the VIP room, since there aren't any clients there, and you'll prefer the privacy after what just happened to you.

While you're there, he observes you to see if you're alright. He might not admit it outright, but he's incredibly concerned for you. How has your emotional well-being been impacted? Is there risk of this harassment spiraling even further?

Whichever fool thought it a good idea to mistreat you quickly finds themselves on the receiving end of Azul Ashengrotto's wrath; every single misdeed of theirs dug up and put on full display.

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

2/10

W/c: 7.7k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Warning: Domestic violence

Note: Yes, I have a lot of WIPS sue me!

There were a few other people in the gym, but the noise of the punching bag bouncing under the weight of her fists drowned out their voices. The muffled noises coming from them only seemed to agitate her more as she reigned down on the bag. She’s been here for an hour already. She can’t say when she’ll stop. All she knows is that she’s angry. Natasha is upset with herself. It’s been three weeks since the last time she saw you. Three weeks since the last time she spoke to you. She stopped following you after you pleaded for her in the cafe to leave you alone. She wanted to do anything but. She wanted to follow you to your apartment and give that man a piece of her mind and then her fists. Who does he think he is? He doesn’t deserve you. He deserves an early grave.

She tries to push every violent thought about that man out of her mind as she punches again. She imagines the bruises she saw on your skin. No one else saw it but the way you winced. The way you tensed under his touch. It had her blood boiling. It took everything in her not to say anything. At first, she thought she was seeing things. She’s not the best at relationships herself. One thing she’s thankful for is being an expert in body language. She knows the differences in human emotions. She’s studied them extensively to be able to manipulate them. So when she saw how you went from opinionated and lively to meek and quiet under his gaze she knew something was wrong. Natasha breathes out a huff when Steve’s hands wrap around the punching bag. She glares at him as he supports it. She doesn’t stop. She doesn’t want to.

“What’s got the spider in such a mood?” Sam steps over to them. They’d been watching Natasha wail on this bag for a while. They figured they could just ask her what was wrong.

She pauses. Should she tell them? Was it their business to know? You’re their friend too. They miss you all the same.

“Have either of you talked to y/n?” She asks instead. She turns back to the bag. She doesn’t wait for an answer as she fixes her stance and gives the bag a mean right hook. It barely moves under Steve’s stronghold.

“Not in a while,” Steve’s pensive look annoys her just a bit more.

“She hasn’t answered.” Sam shrugs. “I sent her like fifty cooking videos. A guy can take a hint.” He shakes his head.

“She did quit without notice,” Steve begins. “I figured she just doesn’t want to talk to us. It happens.”

“It’s not her,” Natasha says between punches. She knows at that moment she needs to tell them. “She can’t.”

“What is she sick or something?” Sam asks. Natasha stops, dropping her hands beside her before she looks between them.

“She’s not sick. Her boyfriend gets handsy with her.” Natasha explains. “He’s controlling her.”

“What?” She can see the way Steve is going to react. She can tell the both of them will leave the tower right this second in search of you. In search of him. She holds up a hand.

“She didn’t admit it to me at first but I could see the bruises,” Natasha frowns. “That and he practically had her by her throat at Tony’s party.”

“Jesus,” Steve swears. He places a hand on his forehead. “Does she know that you know?”

“She does,” Natasha moves over to take a drink from her water bottle. “I talked with her a couple of weeks ago. She doesn’t want help.”

“It’s that easy? We have to go and get her. She has a kid. What if-” Steve begins but Natasha interrupts him.

“She doesn’t want the help,” Natasha says again. “I tried. She’s convinced herself it’s love.” Natasha frowns. She doesn’t fully understand the hold he has on you.

“Then we have to show her it’s not.” Steve doesn’t let his anger get the best of him. He’s blaming himself now. What if you get hurt? What if Kaia gets hurt? He’s never even met the little girl and he knows how much he wants to protect her. She’s yours. You’re one of his favorite people. How did he not notice? “We can help her leave.”

“Not if she doesn’t want to,” Natasha’s quiet admission is unsettling. They hadn’t thought about that. Did you want to leave?

“Statistically, it takes seven times for a domestic violence victim to leave before it’s for good.” Sam hates to give the numbers. He hates that they even have to be numbered.

“Seven?” It’s too many.

“Seven,” Sam confirms. “She may be ashamed or embarrassed. No one wants to admit they’re in such a vulnerable state. Having a kid just complicates things. With cases like this, I’m no expert, but if she doesn’t have the resources or the money he could win custody.”

“Even if he knocks her around?” Steve seethes. How did he miss this? He tries to comb through every single interaction he’s ever had with you. When he first met you, it was down in the lobby. It was a week into you working at the tower when he approached you. He was the only Avenger that would come down to personally get his packages. He enjoyed ordering drawing supplies off of Amazon. Apparently he only recently discovered it. You told him about a cool store named Michael’s just outside of the city that had tons of art supplies. So he invited you. On your lunch break, you showed him around the store. You were instant friends. He never had an inclination that you were in any sort of danger. He didn’t even know about your daughter. What kind of a friend did that make him?

“If there’s no paper trail or proof of any kind it’s tough,” Sam informs him.

“Don’t go blaming yourself, Cap.” Natasha places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“So how do we help?”

“Keep the line of communication open,” Natasha suggests. “I gave her a burner. I don’t know if he has her phone tied up or anything. I told her she can call any time.”

“If and when she comes we allow her to us with open arms,” Sam says. “I’m going to go and make lunch. You hungry?” Steve shakes his head 'no' while Natasha thanks him. “Keep me updated. I’ll keep sending her the videos.” It’s Sam’s way of bonding with you. The news of your situation has rocked both men to the core. Someone they know, someone they love, is being mistreated right under their noses and really there is nothing they can do.

Neither Natasha nor Steve speaks until Sam leaves the gym. Natasha takes another sip from her water bottle. She watches the emotions play out on Steve’s face. She knows the feeling. She feels guilty too.

“How didn’t I notice ?” Steve’s eyes trail up to Natasha.

“Sometimes when you’re going through things like that it’s easier to lie,” Natasha shrugs. “It becomes second nature.”

Steve wants her to elaborate a bit more. He wants to ask her how you’re doing. He has so many questions that he isn’t sure he wants the answer to. His biggest question is how Natasha became your point of contact. As far as he knew neither of you had ever hung out. He would see you converse in passing. He remembers a few times you asked Natasha for her input on a debate with the guys but nothing more. Nothing would lead him to believe either of you were even friends. No matter how he knows that Natasha cares. He could see it in her face that she was bothered by this entire thing. Who wouldn’t be? There was something else he could see on Natasha’s face.

“You like her,” He guesses. Natasha’s brow quirks.

“She’s likable, Rogers.” Natasha dismisses.

“No, it’s-” Steve presses.

“Save it,” Natasha ends whatever he wants to question. She walks out of the gym leaving him to his own devices. She doesn’t want to have this conversation right now. She can’t even entertain the idea. Even if you did leave Keith. Even if you did break up with him, what makes her better than him? She’s killed people for a living. She’s been even more violent than him. Somehow it doesn’t feel the same. She’s not necessarily worthy of someone so good. That doesn’t mean she won’t continue to try and help you.

***************************

If you walk long enough, you come to understand things you never would have realized before. Before living here, you took a car everywhere. Your hometown wasn’t really a walkable city. It’s not something that people did. So you never really paid attention to the people out on the streets. You didn’t have to memorize a bus route. You didn’t interact with the street vendors. Here everything is different. Each day, you’d walk aimlessly around New York City. You had no particular place in mind. You would go wherever your feet would take you. Sometimes you and Kaia would visit Tariq’s Halal Food. He has the most amazing chicken and rice plate. The spices are amazing and he always gives you a little something extra for the baby. Other times you check out the tourists in Times Square. They’re always so excited to be here. They love it. They walk past you without a care in the world.

At mile four, your body protested. You thought you couldn’t go another step. The motivation to remove yourself from the tension of your apartment only pushed you forward. Kaia deserves fresh air. She deserves to feel the tranquility of life outside of those walls. So every single morning, when Keith has left for work, you walk. He has a tracker on your phone. It’s a location app of some kind. He told you he needs to know where you are at all times. For safety.

“It’s too dangerous for such a young and beautiful girl to be in the city without protection.” The irony of that statement. He’s the person you really need protection from. He checks the app ever so often. He knows you won’t push the boundary he’s set. It’s not in you to fight back. You don’t really care to delete it as you know it’ll cause more problems. There will be more conflict. More bruises.

You don’t really have a spot in mind. You’re just walking through Central Park. You spot a park bench that will give you some reprieve from your sore legs. You tap down the stoppers of Kaia’s stroller to sit her beside your legs. She sits in her stroller so patiently. Her cheeks are rosy from the cool air of fall. She coos at the birds flying past. It almost sounds as if she’s mimicking them.

“Mama,” Kaia points a finger towards the pigeon walking past you two. She claps excitedly hoping to get the attention of the bird. "Mama!”

“It’s a bird,” You tell her. She repeats the word.

“Hi!” She waves towards the birds. The bracelet on her wrist jingles as her hand moves.“Hi!” She repeats louder. Her attempts are amusing. She stretches in the stroller. She wants a closer look. That probably won’t be a good idea but you will follow her. You reach over to unbuckle the belt. You hep her out to stand on her own two feet. Kaia crouches down, a determined look on her face, as she coos at the birds again. Her lips purse in frustration as she stands to go a bit closer.

“Hey, Kai, let’s not get too close.” You grab the back of her coat to keep her from going any further.

“No,” Kaia frowns. She shrieks loudly in protest ultimately scaring the birds away.

“You’re a handful you know that,” You laugh as you pick her up.

“Bur!” Kaia shouts into the open.

“I know but we have to be gentle with birds,” You go to sit back on the bench. You place Kaia in your lap but she fights against you. She wants to do the walking now. You allow her to move onto the bench on her own. She stands to look over the back of it. She seems so happy. So unaware. You take another picture of her. She’s bent over the bench, her chin over the top, as she peers down at whatever is on the ground below her. You scroll through your contacts to find your mom’s number. Your thumb wavers over the message button. You want to send her pictures. You want to send her updates. She would love Kaia. So would your dad.

Things have been rocky between you ever since you told them you would be following Keith to New York. They didn’t like the idea at all. They begged you to stay home. Your mom seemed to sense how he wasn’t a nice guy. You fought tooth and nail for them to believe that he is just misunderstood. He loves you. He wants the best for you. When you got pregnant you lost all of your contact with them. They still send you cards on holidays. Your mom still texts you Happy Birthday. You haven’t seen her face in so long. You want to hold her. You want to smell her again. She’s always managed to smell so good. You miss her cooking for you and curling up onto the couch next to you with one of her favorite books.

Keith has managed to isolate you from everyone you’ve ever known. Even now what are you supposed to do with that? Who could you tell? Who would you talk to? Who would want to listen to such a sad case? You can’t even fight back. You can’t even tell him to leave you alone. It’s a struggle every day and still, you stay. When you look at Kaia you have hope. She’s partially his too. Surely, someone who has helped to make something so sweet can’t be all too bad. It may seem dumb but you’re holding onto the small hope that he will change.

“Are you hungry, baby bird?” You ask Kaia. For a moment, you’re reminded of the recipes Sam keeps sending you on Instagram. You’ve turned off your read receipts. He won’t know if you’ve looked at them or not. You do. Every single one. Just like your mother, your finger hovers over the reply button. He wouldn’t care. You don’t really feel like pretending. “Do you want food?” You ask Kaia.

“Food!” Kaia repeats. She turns on the bench, almost toppling over, as she follows the sound of an airplane over you. Your hands catch her before she can fall.

“Okay, let’s go home and eat some food.” You tell her.

You take a long way home. You don’t know why but you pass the tower. You know you won’t be able to glimpse anything from any side. You wonder what everyone is doing tonight. You want so badly to go in. You want to knock on Natasha’s door. Will her offer still be there? You want to introduce them to Kaia. She would love everyone. For just a second you debate going in. You’re not sure that would be a good idea.

So, you push Kaia’s stroller past the building and down to the train. Lunch and a nap will do the both of you good.

****************

It’s the next day and Keith is home for the weekend. He’s not really paid attention to you which is a blessing on its own. Besides his forehead kiss in the morning, and a kiss on the cheek for Kaia he’s been in his own world. He left this morning for a run, he returned to finish up last-minute paperwork, and now he’s been playing his video game for hours. His mood seems decent enough and you stay out of the way. You’re making dinner tonight. A simple pot roast with carrots and potatoes. It’s from one of the recent recipes Sam sent you. This time you dared to reply with a heart. It’s the least you owe him.

“Oh, damn, take a shot!” He shouts into his mic. It seems like a pretty intense game. It’s basketball. You recognize it as the one you used to play together when you were first dating. Kaia is somewhere in front of him with her toys. She’s been pretty clingy today. All-day she’s been asking to be cuddled or carried. You don’t really mind it. Her attention has been turned towards Keith as he’s not usually home with her. She tugs at the leg of his shorts hoping to catch his attention. He doesn’t pay any mind to her. She’s not really fazed by his loud screaming. He plays video games every week.

You’re in the kitchen so you can’t really tell what’s going on. You can hear him shout again just as you pull the roast out of the oven. The music you have serves as background noise. You prepare a plate for you and Keith. There’s no sense in giving Kaia her own when she will just want to eat off of both of yours. You bring Keith his plate setting it on the coffee table.

“Thanks, babe,” Keith says too distracted by the game to say much else. Kaia looks at his plate in interest. She tugs at Keith’s shorts again. She wants to share.

“I can take her,” You say and Keith waves you off.

“No, she can sit with me.” He pauses the game to set Kaia onto his lap. He grabs the plate, avoiding her grabby hands, to poke through the food. Kaia leans back into his chest, she waits patiently for him to give her a mouthful. When he does she hums in appreciation. “This is really good. Why haven’t you made this before?”

You sit next to him with your food. You shrug.

“It’s a new recipe,” You inform him. He smiles down at the food before looking down at Kaia. He lets her take a hold of his fork and allows her to feed him this time. He even laughs when she misses most of his mouth. Kaia has that concentrated look on her face as she grabs more of the roast mashing it into her own mouth.

“She’s getting big,” Keith comments. You nod. “I want to bring her to work with me one day. Both of you.” He glances up to gauge your reaction.

“I’d like that,” You say.

“I think I have a big promotion coming up,” He sets his plate down to bounce Kaia in his lap. “Maybe then we could buy a house. A dog? Kaia would love a dog.” He kisses the top of her head. “Then we could get married. I know it’s out of order but I’ve been thinking.”

You stop mid-chew at his words. Everything in your mouth feels thicker as he continues to speak. Marriage? Did you really want to marry him? What would that mean for your future? It makes you sick to your stomach and you quickly try to hide the shock.

“Do you not want to get married?” Keith asks.

“No, I do,” You assure him. You hope it’s a convincing lie. “I just didn’t think this was the way you’d ask.”

“Oh,” Keith looks down at Kaia thoughtfully. “I didn’t think you were the type of girl that would want the whole proposal thing. I mean we’ve been together for four years now. I thought it was just implied.”

Just implied. Was he that out of touch with you and your feelings? Did he really not care? It’s upsetting that even with everything he’s put you through he can’t seem to get it right. Did he even love you?

Of course, he does. He’s here with you. He hasn’t left you. He’s the only one that hasn’t left.

“Okay,” You say finally.

“Good, we can spend as much as you want on the wedding,” Keith says. “Maybe even invite your friends? You think they would want to come?”

Would they? You’re not too sure you even want to invite anyone else.

“I’ll think about it,” You say. He seems satisfied with this answer as he bounces Kaia again.

When you’re both done with dinner Keith takes Kaia for a bath and puts her to bed. He’s giving you the night off. You take the time to put dishes away while listening to your favorite songs. You’re trying to ignore the dread filling your entire body.

Marriage?

You lean against the counter, pushing all of your weight against your palms, as you try to take deep breaths.

Marriage?

You try again to calm down when there’s a loud smack from Kaia’s bedroom followed by the sound of her crying. Your heart drops as you move to investigate. He hasn’t? He wouldn’t. The thing is you know her cries. You have every single one of them memorized. This one sounds different.

“Keith,” You say slowly. You’re afraid of what you’ll find in this room. You round the corner. Kaia is on the floor, seated on her bottom, with her hands against her face as she cries. She’s red with her eyes screwed up. He’s standing over her with a look of anger on his face.

“Fuck,” Keith shakes his head.

“What happened?” You ask. You move to pick Kaia up to console her and he stops you.

“No,” He says. “She kept trying to touch the outlet and I told her no. She wouldn’t listen so I slapped her hands.”

“Keith,” This time you say his name and it’s dripping with so much disappointment. You kneel to pick her up and this time Keith raises his hand to push against your chest.

“I said no. She needs to learn.” Keith frowns. “When I say no I mean it.”

“I know but she’s fourteen months old,” You look down at her. Her cries are louder as she realizes you’re not going to comfort her. “She’s going to test boundaries.”

“And like an idiot, you would have let her touch the outlet?” Keith looks at you with such disgust. “You have to be kidding me. You’re lucky I’m here or she would be terrible. I’m not raising a bad ass kid.”

“She’s not bad, Keith, she’s one year old.” You say firmly. You’re emphasizing her age. She shouldn’t have to learn through punishment like that. She’s only been on the Earth for fourteen months. He shouldn’t be hitting her. She won’t understand it. Chances are she’ll try it again. That doesn’t give him the right to violate her like this. You never discussed spanking with him. It’s not something you ever thought about doing. She’s so tiny and defenseless. She’s only curious and learning. Why would you hit her for that? “She doesn’t know. We can just put covers on the outlets.”

“What’s that going to solve?” He’s getting agitated. “You have to say no or she’s going to walk all over you. The only way she’s going to learn is a slight tap. It’s not like I hit her hard. She’ll be fine.”

You don’t care how much he justifies it. You don’t care if he thinks that she’s learned.

“Let me pick her up,” You beg him.

“Jesus, you’re so soft.” He walks out of the room, bumping his shoulder against you in the process. You ignore the slight pain to kneel down and take Kaia in your arms. “When she’s disrespecting you don’t call me to discipline her if you’re going to be so dramatic about it.”

You close your eyes at his words. You rub your hand soothingly along Kaia’s back as she cries into your neck. She lifts to show you her hand with a pout. More tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she tried to communicate what happened.

“Dada,” Kaia moans.

“I’m so sorry, Kai,” You take her hand to kiss it. You hold it against your lips as you rock the both of you. You take in a shaky breath.

“What happens when he hits her too?” Natasha’s voice resounds in your head. Was she right? Would he continue to hit her? Would he continue to hurt her? Would you keep allowing it?

Kaia lies her head against you as her cries quiet down. She’s depending on you to protect her and you can’t even do it.

***************************

There are days that go by and that night has been on your mind heavily. You’re lying in bed next to him as he sleeps. Everything in you is screaming for you to leave but you can’t. You can’t. What would change for you if you did? What did you have to offer the world?

**************************

The next incident happens a day later. Keith is coming home from a night with friends. He’s drunk and loud. He comes into the house singing some crazy show tune. He kicks off his shoes at the door and heads to the fridge with one purpose. Another beer. He pops it open with ease before taking a sip. He drinks a good quarter of it. His gaze is focused on a picture hanging on the wall in front of him. It’s one of you and Kaia. She’s only a few months old in that one. It’s a sweet picture as you smile down at her sleeping face. He remembers that day because he was there.

He can’t pinpoint a time where everything changed for him. Suddenly, he realizes he misses you. He invited you out but you declined. Mingling with his friends was the last thing you wanted to do. He turns off the kitchen light to head for your bedroom. He doesn’t stop to check Kaia’s. He knows that she’s sleeping.

He crawls over the covers in his clothes to lie on top of you. You stir under his touch as he presses kisses to your face and forehead. You groan hoping he’ll stop to let you sleep.

“Wake up,” He says. He lifts just slightly so you can lie on your back. He rests between your legs with his chin on your chest. Your hands find his hair in the darkness to comb through it.

“Keith, what time is it?” You mumble. It has to be pretty late.

“I don’t know,” He shrugs. “I missed you.” You peek your eyes open to look at him. He looks good like this. You can tell he’s drunk but you don’t mention it. He leans up to press a kiss against your lips. He kisses you soundlessly, long, hard, and a bit sloppy. He pushes the blanket from your legs. His hands find the hem of your shirt to push it to rest just over your breast. He traces his left hand over your abdomen before making a path to cup your right breast. Only his touch is too firm and certainly too rough as he squeezes. You hiss into his mouth pulling away just slightly. “Sorry,” He apologizes as he tries again. His touch is gentler this time. He runs his lips along your jaw licking at your neck before giving it a soft bite. You moan against him before stopping in your tracks. He smells different. Feminine. It’s a perfume that doesn’t agree with your stomach.

“Keith,” You question though he doesn’t pause. His kisses are hurried and sloppier by the minute. His hands find the waistband of your panties and he tries to tug at them before you stop him. “Keith,”

“What?”He huffs in annoyance. He pulls back to look into your eyes.

“Did you sleep with her?” Your voice is small. You’re afraid to even ask the question. You almost feel stupid. Almost. The way he bites his lip confirms everything you need to know. You don’t know who she is but it’s apparent he’s been seeing her for a while. Your heart sinks. Tears prick your eyes. He needs to move now. He didn’t even have the decency to shower to rid himself of her smell before falling into bed with you.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” He says. You push at his chest to urge him to move. He sits back on his legs.

“I can’t believe you.” You swing your legs out of the bed to stand. You immediately head for the closet. In your blind rage you don’t notice him standing up. You can’t take any of it anymore. “I can’t do this.” You whisper to yourself. You find a duffel bag tossing whatever clothes you can find into them. He watches you with an eerie look in his eyes.

“You’re not serious,” He mutters. “You can’t be mad that I fucked her. She doesn’t mean anything. You’re the one i’m marrying.”

“How does that make it better?” You question. You toss the bag onto the bed to dig through your drawers. You find a pair of pants that fit just right. You drag them up your legs. He watches you. “You have put me through so much. So much Keith. You hit me. You kept me from my friends. You hit Kaia. Then you go and cheat after months of you accusing me of cheating. I can’t take it.” You zip the bag not really caring if anything matches before you throw it over your shoulders. You try to calm yourself enough to enter Kaia’s room. She’s still sleeping. You don’t really know where you’re going. You don’t care. All you know is that you can’t be here any more. You don’t bother with the lights of her bedroom. You reach into her crib, cradling her into your arms, hoping not to wake her. You struggle a bit carrying her but you’re successful. You reach for a blanket to keep her warm.

You need to leave.

Keith catches a glimpse of you from the bedroom. He follows you to the front door. You don’t even manage to grab the handle before he’s taking a fistful of your hair. You groan in pain, trying to keep the sound in check, so not to jostle Kaia.

“Where do you think you’re taking my daughter?” He whispers harshly into your ear. His grip tightens as he pulls your neck back further.

“Keith, let me leave.” You beg him.

“Put her down,” He tugs just enough that you follow him to the living room. He instructs you to put her down gently. Kaia moans but settles into the fabric of the couch. He praises you for listening before tugging you over to the kitchen. He rips the bag from your arms all the while maintaining his hold on your head. “You want to leave, go. You’re not taking her with you.”

His words sound good. They do. They also sound incredibly stupid. No way were you going to leave Kaia with him.

“Keith, I’m not leaving her with you,” You whimper. “Let us go. Just let us go.”

“You’re painting me as such a damn mad man it’s fascinating.” Keith lets you go to slap his hands against the counter. “I give you everything. Everything! Why can’t you just be fucking grateful? I’m marrying you. I’m giving you kids. I give you money.”

“What am I being grateful for?” You exclaim. “You hit me.You hit me. Keith there’s nothing more for us in this relationship but pain and hurt and anger. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t marry you, Keith. I can’t bring anymore babies into this situation.” This was the wrong thing to say. He closes the distance between the two of you. You don’t have time to react before he is pushing you against the wall with everything in him. You try to hide the groans of pain as he slaps against your face. You can feel the moment your lip splits. You look at him in defiance. He won’t break you. Not this time.

He moves to smack you again when a cry from the couch stops you both.

“Mama,” Kaia calls out. She’s probably so confused right now. The noises. The darkness. “Mama.”

“Keith, she’s going to come looking for me.” You whisper brokenly. She’s big enough to climb off of the couch. He lowers his hand. He drops them against his side. Nothing else is said as you both listen to Kaia’s crying from a few feet away. Finally, he steps back to allow you to go and grab her. You rush to her side, your heart breaking at the look in her eyes, as she raises her arms for you to pick her up. You don’t quite trust yourself to hold her so you sit on the couch next to her. She crawls into your lap to burrow herself into your arms. You don’t have it in you to comfort her. Not when you can’t even comfort yourself.

Minutes pass and her breathing evens out. She’s asleep again. You feel so dumb. Why did you push him tonight? Why did you have to ask him about it? Why couldn’t suspicions just be suspicions? You lift her from your lap to place her against the cushions once again.

You have to check. You need to check.

You tiptoe down the hallway and into the bedroom. You peek your head around the corner to see what he’s doing. Sure enough he’s asleep still in his clothes. His soft snores signal that he’s dead to the world. It’s now or never.

You walk back to the kitchen where you reach under the sink. You finger along the pipes to grab at the tape around it. You finally touch a sleek metal, ripping it from the pipe, and tapping it. You slip it into your pocket. Next you grab the bag and walk over to the couch. You shush Kaia as she whimpers. You grab the blanket to throw over her before taking measured steps towards the front door. You can’t bother with a jacket. It’s now or never. Your hands tremble as you reach for the lock. The cool metal is scary. So scary. You turn the lock with trepidation. He’s not going to wake up. Hopefully he doesnt. You reach down to turn the knob, backing away from the door, and opening it. Once it’s open you take care to close it softly. Your heart is beating so hard as you walk towards the elevators. You tap the button with ease, rocking Kaia in your arms, as you wait for it to reach your floor.

You don’t know how things are going to go. You really don’t care. All you know is that you have to get out. You let out a breath when you’re in the elevator. You lean heavily against it as you finally allow yourself to breathe. You have to get out of here. You have to get far away from here. You ignore the night security when he greets you. You walk out of the building and down the street. You don’t know how far the walk is. You don’t have a particular place in mind. A half hour has gone by and you finally stop. The tears watering your eyes leave you blind as you find an empty bench to sit on. The city is quiet tonight. No one is out here. The traffic lights blink red in front of you as you manuever Kaia in your arms to take the phone out of your pocket.

You power it on opening it to the blank screen. There’s one number programmed into it that you know of. You press the first contact bringing it to your ear for it to ring. You wait, shaking your leg nervously, as you pray for her to pick up.

Finally, she answers with a groggy “Hello.”

You can’t bring yourself to speak. You simply breathe into the microphone as you try not to break down. You can hear the rustling of sheets. She must be sitting up.

“Y/n?” She asks and you hold back a sob. It feels so good to hear her voice.

“Y-yeah,” You say into the phone. You blink back tears again. “Nat,” You sniffle.

“Where are you?” She asks.

“I don’t.I don’t really know. I think I’m on Albany,” You stutter looking for the street signs. When you find one you repeat the intersection to her.

“I’m coming to get you. Don’t move.” She says.

“Okay,” You look down to Kaia. “Please don’t hang up.”

“I won’t.” Natasha promises. You can hear more shuffling and you don’t know how fast she moves but she’s already down in the parking garage by the sound of the car unlocking. “How’s Kaia?”

“She’s good,” You look down at her sleeping peacefuly in your arms. “S-s-she’s sleeping.” Your voice breaks.

“You’re doing good then, dorogaya.” Natasha starts the engine of the car. You can’t help the flutter in your chest at Natasha’s nickname. “I’m coming. Just stay on the phone.”

You nod to yourself. You’re exhausted and don’t have much else to say. You listen to the sounds of her driving. She uses her turn signals. She curses at a driver that almost cuts her off. She apologizes when she remembers she’s not alone.

“You curse in Russian,” You laugh. You don’t know why you find the cliche so funny. Natasha snorts.

“Yes, I do.” Natasha smiles over the phone. You don’t realize how much time has passed before she’s parked in front of you on the street. She presses the hazard buttons, before exiting the car. She walks over to you silently. She hangs up the phone in her hand before tucking it into her pocket. “Thank you for calling me.” She tells you. She glances down to Kaia and then back to you. “I don’t have a car seat for her.”

“It’s okay, I’ll hold her.” You hike her up further in your arms. Natasha nods. She grabs your bag, popping the trunk to throw it in the back, as you slide into the back seat. You know it’s not necessarily safe but there’s nothing else you can do. Natasha gets into the driver’s side. She puts her seat belt on before putting the car in drive.

You look out of the window at the empty streets. It kind of looks how you feel right now.

“I’m taking you to one of my safehouses,” Natasha says. “The tower is secure but I don’t think you want to deal with Tony and his cameras right now.” You nod wordlessly. Natasha peeks at you from the front seat. Your head lolls to the back of the seat as you close your eyes. For the first time that night you close your eyes feeling peaceful. Natasha is tapping at your shoulder when your eyes pop open.

“Dorogaya, we’re here.” She already has the duffel bag in hands. She helps you out of the car. You both walk through the well lit parking garage. This place is fancy. You wonder for a moment how Natasha has been able to keep this a secret. She walks with you to an elevator and presses the button. Neither of you say anything as she leads you to the fifth floor. She unlocks the door with ease, letting you walk inside first, before closing the door behind you. She flicks the lights on and sets the keys on the counter. You practically jump out of your skin as a. black figure jumps out in front of you.

“Sorry,” Natasha shoos the black cat away. “This is Liho and he knows he knows he’s not supposed to be on the counters.” Natasha shakes her head. She opens one of the cabinets to grab a can of cat food. She cracks it open allowing you to take everything in while she does. Liho meows and Natasha shakes her head. “You’re so impatient.” She dumps the food into a clean bowl and refills his water bowl.

“You can lie her down on the bed,” Natasha points to the bedroom. “I’ll be in, in a second to help with that lip.” Right. You forgot about that.

You amble down the hallway in search of the bedroom. You know she’s giving you a chance to calm down. She’s not crowding you or coddling you. You’re really thankful for that. Her bedroom is nice. It smells clean. If a bit stuffy. Maybe she hasn’t slept here in a while.

You lie Kaia down on the bed. She takes a sharp inhale of breath before turning onto her side. You brush her curls from her face, making sure she’s doesn’t wake up. You sit on the bed next to her, fingers in your lap, as you wait for Natasha. Her footsteps are light but they’re there. She shuffles around the room and goes into the ensuite to grab cleaning supplies.

“Come here,” She beckons you into the bathroom. She watches you climb onto the counter with a wince. Your back is a bit sore. She doesn’t say anything that you expect her to. “Can I touch you?” She asks. You nod. You hate the way you flinch even though she slowly raises her hands. She inspects your face and your lips before grabbing a wash cloth. She wets it with cold water before pressing it against your lip. You whimper in pain as your hand flies up to hold onto her wrist. “It’s okay, dorogaya.” She says softly. She makes quick work of cleaning the cut before she drops her hands.

“Why do you call me that?” You tilt your head. She looks into your eyes with such compassion and such care. You haven’t seen this in a long time.

“It’s a nickname,” Natasha shrugs.

“It means dear, darling, honey. Something of that nature right?” You noted and she raises a brow. “Why do you call me that specifically.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable I won’t say it,” Natasha backs away but you reach out to grab her wrist. She’s a bit surprised you can tell. You gently tug her to you. You don’t know why you do it but you place her hands on your waist. Her eyes flicker down before back up to you.

“I like it,” You admit. “It makes me feel safe.” It makes you feel loved but you’re not so sure you should be saying it. You look down to Natasha’s lips and then back to her. You lean in to press your lips to hers. It’s like your entire world falls apart and then is built back together. For a brief moment she kisses you back. You ignore the pain you feel as you think about how good it feels. How safe it feels. This is what you’ve been missing for so long. Natasha seems to find her senses first as you move to deepen the kiss.

“I can’t let you do that,” She mutters. “I can’t let you pay me with sex. You don’t have to repay me at all.” You deflate attempting to look away in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized that’s what you were doing. She presses a manicured finger under your chin to get you to look at her. “I want to kiss you. I do. Dorogaya, you’re in a vulnerable state. I don’t want that to be the reason you do something you may regret.” Before you can protest she shakes her head. “Give yourself time.” You nod. “I’ll always be here.” She promises. You believe her.

She steps back too look at the rest of your body. “Is there anywhere that you feel a lot of pain?”

“Just my heart,” You shake your head. “I can’t believe I let it go on for so long.”

“You're here now,” Natasha tucks away the cleaning supplies and returns her gaze to you. “I have pajamas for you if you need. I can watch Kaia while you shower.”

“Okay,” You look over to the shower in question. You wait for her to leave. You avoid looking into the mirror as you strip. You turn on the water, waiting for it to get hot, before stepping directly under it. When the water finally hits your back you let out a sob. You’ve been holding it in for so long. You’re safe. You don’t have to go back. Never again.

When you get out of the shower, you find Natasha sitting at the edge of the bed watching Kaia. Just like she said. You tuck your dirty clothes in her nearby hamper before climbing onto the bed to sit beside the little girl. You trace your fingers on her face. She twitches but never wakes up.

“You were right,” You don’t dare to look at her. You know she’s listening. “He hit her.” Natasha doesn’t hide her gasp. “He said she needed to learn after she tried touching an outlet. I just… I couldn’t believe it. Then I could. I felt horrible. I felt like a bad mother.”

“You’re not a bad mother,” Natasha quickly shuts that down. “You got yourself out. You left when you knew you needed to.”

“Why doesn’t it feel that way?” You furrow your brows. “ He asked me to marry him. He wants to expand our family. Everything I’ve ever wanted and I just. It came in this way.I couldn’t stop thinking about how I can’t raise another baby with him. I can’t be stuck with that forever.” You lower your hands to pick at the fabric of her blanket. You won’t say it. You can’t say it. Then that would make it real.

There’s a pause as Natasha analyzes your words.

“Y/n?” She questions. You raise your eyes. “How far along are you?” Her question almost knocks the wind out of you. If you weren’t already sitting it would have made you pass out.

“6 weeks,” You concede. “He doesn’t know.” You force yourself to look back down at the covers. You don’t want to see the pity in her face.

“You’re not going back to him?” She questions. “You can stay for as long as you need. I-I’m not forcing you to stay y/n. He won’t find you. Just stay.”

“I don’t want to go back,” You say. “I don’t want to.” She reaches across the bed to hold on to your hand.

For the past few years, you’ve felt alone. Now you have her.

----> next part

[yanderederee]

hi hii, just saw your new event and- wow✨

wanted to ask if i may join in with ran and rindou :3

Thank you so so much for participating and requesting for this event lovelies!!♡ (sorry if my inbox status is hard to read;-;) ! I really hope you enjoy my headcanons!!♡

yandere mbti event page : here!

Ran Haitani - CAML

Cruel:Aware:Manipulative:Lenient

Ran can sometimes teeter between being reverent and Cruel, but more times than not, I believe Ran is often harsh.

Loves to praise his darling and spoil them rotten, but Ran is sadistic, his heart just pounds watching his dalring cry♡

Not cruel like Hanma; Ran is Cruel in the way that he likes when things make you mad or teasing you too far. He tries not to be the reviving end of your wrath for sake of wanting to be on your good side… but it does turn him on a little.

You’re just so cute when you scream at him for flipping your skirt up to “check what his lucky color for the day is”. (Any other oho asa horoscope followers?)

Always makes up with you for his cruel deeds by doing more kind acts. Again, he teeters reverent in the way he praises everything about you, has your back in every decision you make and fulfills your every wish no matter who what’s at stake.

Ran’s hyper-aware of little changes that go on behind your expressions. Ran can read you like a preschool book. There’s no point in hiding anything from him; because he will point out your lies and force you into telling him everything anyway.

Also isn’t one who likes to falsify who you are, or how you feel about him. He’s quite charismatic anyway, so as long as long as he’s careful, he doesn’t need to worry too much. He’s confident in being able to make you fall in love with him with personality and looks alone.

Ran has never considered his actions as wrong. Or, he does, but doesn’t care. He hurts people everyday for any minor fault he deems worthy.

So when he reasons that he will do anything to protect you? Hurting, killing, dismembering, or mutilating—nothing is beyond unreasonable, for your sake.

Ran is manipulative as hell.

To circle back, Ran would rather stay on your good side, if possible. He’s not beyond being honest with you about his delinquencies, but Ran likes lying about the truth.

Ran likes to lie and tease you. “You saw someone outside your window last night? It was probably just a shadow playing a trick on you~.” It Definitely wasn’t him. “You’re so cute when you’re delirious~ maybe I should come over and watch you sleep, just in case… fufu, I’m kidding doll.”

Similarly to how he wants to be on your good side, Ran will be choosingly Lenient with you.

Loves the idea of you ribboned and cuffed to his room with only a cute piece of lingerie on at all times—- but he decides that can wait for worse case scenario. He’d rather you live youthful and fully, experiencing days challenges with him by your side.

* If you start getting too close to realizing his obsessive craze for you, he gets pretty harsh with his gaslighting. So what if you caught some guy with braids in an ally beating your coworker to death after your shift? You couldn’t prove it was him, because it wasn’t him. You understand how mean it is to blame someone for murder right? So stop looking at him like he was some damn ghost.

* But if the cat’s out of the bag, it’s out. If he ever becomes discovered, I can see him changing into CAHS personality type. Forced to become honest, and restricting you into become more akin to a pet than a person. He would like to delay this change as far as he can, but that’s entirely dependent on you.

Rindou Haitani - RAHS

Reverent:Aware:Honest:Strict

Rindou HATES being mean to his darling!! When Rindou falls in love, his whole heart is in it. When you make an appearance in his life and inevitably change his way of thinking, Rindou is absorbed with being loved by you.

Similar to Baji in the way his Reverence is less like worshipping and more like protecting. Rindou thinks you’re perfect; that you can do no wrong, and redeemable in all things, including hurting him.

Rindou may have a few daydream-delusions of his darling falling for him like a princess would to her knight in shining armor, wishing you would look at him like he hung the stars, and crave him the same way he craves you.

But he acknowledges reality, and realizes he has to be genuinely careful in approaching you in order for that to happen. Rindou is perceptive and aware of your genuine emotions and thoughts of him.

With a reputation like his, he knows you might have some concerns with being around him. So, he actively makes an effort in showing you who he is.

Rindou likes being genuine with you. As his darling, he feels you may be able to truly understand him, if you’re given the chance…

So, Rindou finds being manipulative rather difficult. He’ll honestly own up to his poor behaviors, and ask for your forgiveness. Now, this can obviously depend on the behavior in question, but Rindou is careful enough to hold himself back while in your company, or with what behaviors reach your ears.

Also likes to keep the image you see of him in a positive light. He might not be perfect, but he was real with you and made you feel genuinely safe.

Now.. hear me out. Rindou is most Strict than he likes to believe. He’s not overbearing like locking you up and keeping you to himself.

But he does gift you cute pieces of jewelry often. They’re always so cute, you end up always wearing at least one or multiple of the Tracking Device imbedded accessories.

He knows your every move. Your every calorie intake. Your every breath is being recorded. It’s all for your safety, of course.

Is very particular with who you spend your time with or who you speak to. Is the type to secretly beat the shit out of Anyone he doesn’t recognize who talks to you too long, takes up too much of your time, or acts remotely unpleasant towards you.

Rindou is less thrilled by the idea of locking you away, if only because he knows the action will make you dislike him. And all Rindou ever wants is to feel loved by you…

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Regarding Miquella

Disregarding the consort thing, that's a whole different issue.

But like, I don't think I'm reaching to say that Miquella didn't sound 100% calm and cool in the memory of him. Miquella sounds like he was praying - he sounds like he was desperate.

And I'm not sure I fully understand why people believe the haligtree and st. trina were discarded in the DLC when it feels like the player's understanding and experience with Miquella's references in the base game is absolutely being capitalized on and leveraged against the player.

Trigger Warning: Suicide Mention under Cut

Let me put it this way: the DLC is essentially the discovery of Miquella's suicide note

Miquella's decision to become a god makes sense. The world is in shambles. His older brother's soul was destroyed permanently. There's no going back. The time is for big swings and big swings only. So Miquella decides to become a god.

And divinity is the equivalent of suicide for an empyrean. Miquella is going to discard his body, his heart, his love/soul - everything that defines him. Who he will be after gaining divinity is not who he once was.

Now, how the fuck is the player supposed to care about any of that if we didn't have prior inkling to Miquella's character? Granted, all information comes secondhand, but neither is Miquella a total stranger and unknown to the player. We have Some information - enough to develop a stake in the proceedings.

As an English teacher might comment on an essay: "So what?"

So what if Miquella decides to become a god? This becomes dependent on the player. Miq fans would go, "we don't want this for him because he's essentially dying - we love the haligtree and st. trina, we don't want that to go away". Not miq fans maybe feel suspicious (especially given the whole "charming the disciples" thing), and they'll think, "oh we can't have that guy become a god, that's bad news"

Narrative wise, it makes sense if the DLC's quest is to "stop Miquella from becoming a god". I would argue that it's not discarding prior established lore of Miq because the player's perception of the lore is the basis for their reaction to Miquella's proceedings. Grief, primarily.

What does however surprise me is that we're not allowed to save Miquella. That Miquella's already too far gone. We can only offer to slay the divine being he becomes - someone decidedly no longer the Miquella.

Tl;Dr I don't understand why people think the DLC retconned the Haligtree and the St. Trina lore when the DLC explicitly defines Miquella's actions as a radical departure (or a radical escalation, depending on your view) from his usual Modus Operandi.

[silvyysthings]

Your last anon said Airmail is isn't reputable. It is Before Vanity Fair lost it's touch that website was huge. The guy who was creative director - Graydon Carter left Vanity Fair and created Airmail.

This past year I've seen big reporters reference Air Mail articles. I've seen it mentioned on The View this year which is a mainstream tv show. Besides that article in Air Mail got so much attention so it's not like he didn't get attention for his article. Just like the small podcast he did also got a lot of attention.

This is the theme from fans that I don't get. He denied multiple times the SA allegation which was 1 allegation. How often does he need to talk about it?

Besides each time he does talk about it there is potential to get sued so it's risky. When his friend and former lawyer Kent did a podcast this year he said he had to be careful with his words because a lawsuit could still happen. That's why he was so quiet for years. He knows he is innocent and his accuser is spending time on Twitter wishing assault on children. She's not a credible person so why address someone that unhinged if you already did in multiple statments and a large article?

Armie is the rare celebrity who listens to his lawyer and I wish fans understood how easily it is to get sued even if you are telling the truth. Besides, I think an innocent person doesn't need to constantly say they are innocent.

Lastly the cannibal accusation is what lost him his first few roles. His main accuser did the press conference in March. He lost multiple roles and his agency starting in January and February. That is what people remember. So he addressed in it in the podcast.

And denying something like SA isn't some magic bullet that fixes everything. I need fans to understand that. It's naive to think that way. We are wired to believe the negative about people and that's something he understands and is living with. Perhaps fans need to adjust.

💯💯

[2kmps]

INTERVENTION

john hancock x quasi-surgeon!reader | 2.6k

story summary; you save hancock's life by reattaching his arm after some nasty fallout with a raider gang. in return, hancock brings you back with him to goodneighbor to continue practicing. the closeness you both develop for one another is simply an added bonus.

story warnings; drug use (hancock), not super explicit sexual scene, brief mentions of body gore + different ailments to the human body, copious cursing, unethical practices + questionable morality in mc tho' that's open to interpretation by you, very roughly proofread, does not explicitly follow fallout lore sorry lmao. MDNI!!

if you enjoyed, please reblog + interact!!

When Hancock had propositioned Irma to rent out multiple empty rooms in the back of the Memory Den to you, she’d been justifiably self-conscious about it. Mixing business with pleasure was one thing she knew well, but intermingling pleasure with surgery was something completely different together. According to what had been reiterated to her through Fahrenheit, then Hancock, and finally yourself at close intervals, Hancock had an arm blown clean off of his body and nearly bled out on cracked concrete in some building outside of Boston occupied by a raider gang with heavy artillery.

Next thing he knew, he was awake on a mildewy bedroll next to a warm fire, his arm reattached with thick thread and copper wire. All that he could understand in that moment was his body had regenerated nerve endings, bone, tissue, and sensation back into his arm—something he tested for several moments by flexing his fingers as though playing keys on a terminal. He went further and mimicked lighting a cigarette, flicking a syringe, stirring a flask; all the motions that actually mattered to him to perform.

Besides confirming he could still push down the trigger on a jet inhaler, he noticed the silvery moonlight and the craters pockmarking the glowing orbs' pale face. It looked a lot like some of the ugly bastards he'd had the misfortune of an acquaintanceship with. With enough of his wits about him to start thinking of those lowlifes, he looked around with a more critical eye.

He startled only a little when you ended up being what was staring back at him from the other side of the fire.

“You've been out for two days and twelve hours, if you want to know. I hope you'll actually stay awake because it's been a pain in the ass to carry you around, plus my supplies.”

Hancock hadn't been interested in all the typical pleasantries as he normally would be and showed you his arm.

“You do this?”

You put your teeth around a chunk of charred meat on a skewer and hummed affirmatively. “Not bad, right? I've done some minor stuff on people: reattached fingers, toes, even put some guy’s penis back on after his crazy wife cut it off. But a whole arm? Well, let's say that it definitely helps that you're a Ghoul. My first one, actually.”

“Oh, that right? I'm flattered.” Hancock couldn't bring himself to laugh over the absurdity of the situation, but did sit upright and glance around the base of the fire for another skewer. Food sounded more appealing right now than it ever had before. “You musta done one hell of a job because I don't even feel the wire and—what is that? Shoelaces?”

“Hungry?” you asked, muffled by the tough chew as you pulled another portion of skewered meat from your side, handing it to him. “Believe me, your pain is gonna start back up eventually and with a vengeance. But, you're a Ghoul. I'm hardly worried about how you're gonna tolerate that. Turns out, though, daytripper and hydra make for one hell of an anesthetic combination. I learned a lot from you, thanks for surviving.”

The way you saved him was bizarre. The way you spoke was straight up fucking freaky. He liked you already.

“You, uh, some sort of doctor or somethin’?” he asked after swallowing a couple of hunks of meat. He had deduced it was mole rat—a bit too fatty for his taste, but nothing he would complain about. “Not everyone can just stick someone's limbs back on and use whatever’s on the ground to make it stay.”

“Nah, not really.” you licked the skewer clean of the herby marinade you'd used. “Not officially, anyway. I trained with some surgeon down in West Virginia for a couple of years before he turned into a Ghoul and went feral. Honestly, he had already lost a few screws by the time I came around. I went through his terminal one night, right?” you looked at him to make sure he was listening. He was, so you continued, “I found out he had lost all his screws. He was purposefully exposing himself to greater levels of radiation on different days because he wanted to be Ghoulified. He thought he'd become immortal that way.”

“Well, in a weird sort of way, that's not completely untrue.” Hancock replied through bites of mole rat. “He wouldn't have been immortal. Just aged real slow. Lost a few fingers and toes. Been ostracized by society at large until the loneliness became too much to bear and he'd go feral. That what happened?”

Your skewer splintered as you cracked it in half, shaping a cross out of it that you then secured with three blades of long grass. After tying the grass into knots, you flicked the cross away into the very same tuft you had pulled from.

“As it turns out, people don't really care how irradiated you are if you're someone with a fancy license. So, he didn't go feral because everyone turned their backs on him.” you said, now sitting sideways on your stump of wood for a metal tackle box littered in old Nuka-World and RobCo stickers.

Hancock couldn't see well enough through the swaying orange-red flames and shadow cast inside the box to know what you were searching for, but he heard the delicate tinkle of glass and clatter of metal as you rummaged.

Your hand reappeared with a syringe—a stimpak. “Dr. Chapman went feral because he was already a feral human. Now, hold out your arm. I'm going to stave off your pain for as long as I can.”

After that, Hancock had convinced you to follow him to Goodneighbor. To Irma, Fahrenheit and Hancock claimed it was for the benefit of the town—being as it was constantly in the throes of chaos and death, having a quasi-surgeon on standby would negate some of the loss. You, on the other hand, told her you simply wanted a secure place to practice and were particularly motivated by the enormous congregation of Ghouls.

Another win, according to Hancock, who didn't look much deeper than surface-level at your rapturous intrigue of treating Ghouls for whatever malady they came to you with. Sometimes it was chem withdrawals, other instances it was actual, missing parts that you'd oftentimes have to supply from three-day old corpses dumped outside the town’s barricades.

You were approached about tooth pain, migraines, aches all over. Regular humans came to you with distended stomachs, testicular torsions, radioactive decay of their intestines, gangrenous appendages, fevers with chills and mottled skin that evolved into sepsis, mysterious infections that were plague-like in nature (those you had no hope for and who'd conveniently vanish from Goodneighbor after word got out). The number of patients you treated for Ghoul-related sexual diseases was staggering.

“So, what do we got on the list for today?” Hancock picked up your battered clipboard and flipped through the bundle of pages. You had names (mostly aliases out of embarrassment) listed with their corresponding ailment, a hyphen, and then what you intended to be their intervention.

You squeezed a dirty white coat on your shoulders and snatched the clipboard from his hands, searching his face for some ounce of humility which simply wasn't there. “None of your business, Mayor Hancock. I do take patient confidentiality very seriously. Just know, I am practicing to the best of my abilities.”

“Oh, don't I know it.” He gave a raspy little laugh that he supplemented with a grin. “Look at you! You've become a big name all over Boston. Got people filing into Goodneighbor in droves just to get some of your magic.”

You deadpanned. “It isn't magic. It's medicine. And a whole lotta luck. Probably, actually, more luck than anything else.”

“Only real downside to your popularity is we just ain't got enough space for everyone. We already had people on the streets, but it feels like you can't even walk through town anymore without tripping over someone.” Hancock followed you to your desk and sat on the edge, arms and legs crossed, trying a little too obviously to see the information you were logging into the terminal.

“God,” you sighed, shoving the clipboard into his chest. He took it with a quiet noise. “If you're going to be a complete menace, at least read these off to me.”

He kept on grinning. “With pleasure.”

For a while, that's what the pair of you did. He'd read out a name (or figured out an alias), an aliment, a treatment, your notes on the matter, and make suitable commentary of his own while you typed it all into a file—sans his humor because it was highly inappropriate.

This wasn't an unusual occurrence anymore. Irma had surrendered three of her rooms to you without much stubbornness to Hancock. After all, the only reason she and a business at all in Goodneighbor was because of him, and it wasn't like he was asking for the space for free. One room was meant for you to conduct business; function as your “office” with a desk, terminal, a few cabinets for storage, and three or four sturdy tables that could be divided with stained, stale-smelling curtains you'd have to take outside and beat dust out of quite often.

The second room was locked at all times and had been modified to imitate what you imagined an actual surgical suite would look like—minus shiny white walls. You had help (normally from Kent Connolly) nailing rolls of plastic tarp around the perimeter of the room that you'd spray down with whatever amount of rubbing alcohol you could find.

Tucked in the corner of this special room, you kept your instrument stands and surgical tools tucked beneath even more plastic, hoping to preserve what little level of sterilization you'd managed to achieve. Dead center of the floor was a single metal table you used to perform most of your surgeries that were a little more complicated, bled a whole lot more than sewing someone's finger back on.

You saw it more than you'd ever dreamed you would.

Finally, the third room was a barren, simple space Hancock kept rented for you to sleep in. With the amount of work you saw in a twenty-four hour period, it was rare you ever stepped inside as you were usually found unconscious at your desk or spent your quiet moments at the Old State House with Hancock.

“Henry Thorpe—hey, I know that guy. Always blitzed out of his mind at The Third Rail—ailment is alcoholic cirrhosis—he has been lookin' kinda, ah, yellow lately—treatment is abstaining from alcohol—oof, probably not gonna happen—and steroids—you got anything good in your supply there?”

You stopped typing and looked up at him. “John. Seriously? Give it here.” He whisked the clipboard high in the air out of your reach. “I could've let you bleed out that day, jackass. Show a little respect.”

“Well, for one, you didn't let me bleed out,” he said, wrapping an arm snug around your waist once he coaxed you into standing. “Second, I know what you're like. You wouldn't let a radroach bleed out. Ain't no way you'd leave me high and dry back then.”

“Don't under—”

“Third,” he tossed the clipboard down onto your desk and held you with both arms. “I know you could take me out in a second with all your expertise and concoctions you've got on you. It's pretty fucking terrifying, and somehow real sexy at the same time. It's part of the reason why I like you so much. Someone who can kick my ass? Doesn't get hotter than that.”

You felt around the front of him, palms gliding from his chest to the thinness of his shoulders that were evident to you though the patriotic fabric he wore on his body. In these moments, you still didn't know how to respond to him when he came on so strong—even after months of this proximity, his tongue down your throat and between your legs, and the mornings you'd spend vomiting into a toilet with a bag of radaway dripping into your veins.

“So. You, uh, gonna come by tonight? I haven't gotten to see you in a while and I'm missin’ having you there in the morning.” Hancock went quiet for a moment as he trailed a hand along your back, fingers fitted parallel along your spine. “Because, you know, chem-induced hallucinations only do so much. They’re pretty damn nice, but they ain't better than the real thing, you feel me?”

You smacked your gums and smiled despite yourself. If it were anyone other than Hancock, you'd be disgusted by someone talking to you like that. If it were anyone other than Hancock, you'd be beside yourself in your prejudices thinking that no one like that deserved to be inside your body, in your bed, in your arms, kissing you sweetly with jet-breath and stale cigarette smoke still clinging to the roof of his mouth.

“Are you saying you like me more than the chems?” you asked with a foolish, love-stricken look.

He had a hand in the downy tufts of hair on the back of your neck, weakening your resolve to resist him the longer he kept at it with rhythmic strokes. “Better than the chems? Love, that's like me asking you if you like me more than surgery. And you really, really like your surgery.”

“Maybe halfway as much?” you wondered.

Hancock frowned but kept petting your neck. “Damn. That little? C'mon, you can do better than that.”

“Sixty percent.” He grunted. “Seventy percent?” A subdued ehhh. “Fine. Eighty.”

You were leaning fully against him at that point and hovering near his mouth. “How about eighty-five? Anything higher would be a lie.”

“Yeah. Sounds good. A nice, solid number.” He moved in to kiss you. “It's good enough for me.”

When he kissed you for a second time, you were the one seated on the desk while he put his weight on you. He split your legs apart to fit between them, coaxing you down onto your back while pressing his hands into the fat of your thighs, using his fingers to climb higher along your waist to the buttons of your pants.

There was only a little time left before you were supposed to unlock your doors for the day and take in all the weary-bodied, disease-havoced folks of the Commonwealth, so neither of you wasted a second that morning. He knew it was a mistake because you'd likely be contained to the bathroom and a cocktail of radaway and crushed up rad-x later on, whereas you knew this would make getting through the day much harder than it already was.

Still, you accepted him inside of you with his hard thrusts, open-mouthed kisses and tongue and panting that broke into loud moans you didn't have the sense to stifle—neither did he.

Everything besides this exact moment had fallen wayside for you both. The amount of sickness and death plaguing the Commonwealth. The way your surgical suite looked like a massacre every time you were finished. The paraphernalia that Hancock craved in an unending cycle. The troubles of running a growing community like Goodneighbor.

Such feelings were not mutual to the other residents in The Memory Den who heard everything in the grain of the wood—moans, pants, thumps, Hancock’s even filthier mouth, and the very second when you both unraveled together.

Irma, at such bothersome times, could only suck away dramatically on a cigarette and greatly envy the folks lying blissfully unaware inside the pods she watched over.

a/n; I have another idea with the same reader-character if y'all are interested. it'd be a more involved smut scene but you knoooooow

[bokettochild]

Why is legend your favorite in LU?

I guess I relate to him? He's someone who started out normal enough but had a lot expected of him from very young and it's shaped him differently from the people around him. He's guarded and wary, and sometimes mean with what he says, as am I, but it's not because either of us are bad people, just wary and untrusting. And I get shit from my friends because of it, as does he, so there's that too LOL

I also just love how many tropes/headcannons one can use on him! He's got the most cannon lore but also so much room for imagination! He's a prince, he's the prophesied hero, he's the GOAT, he's a pathetic little rabbit, he's a merman, he's just Some Guy! Unlike the heroes that have so much to base their personality off of, or so many things that point to what sort of a person they would be, Legend is basically the best open to interpretation! He's not what you would expect if you look into his adventures, and picking him apart to understand why has endeared him to me greatly <3

[bonny-kookoo]

ooh bonny I'm a sucker for angst 🤧 I gotta know (if you please) how things went for snowball princess before jin came back and/or while she was away from yoongi for basic training?

The clock ticking is an odd sound now.

It mixes with the low buzzing of the fridge starting and stopping occasionally, as you sit alone in Yoongis kitchen. There's a plastic container of leftovers from last night in front of you- reheated all by yourself, the microwave no longer scary after having taught yourself how to use it. Earlier, there was a staff member here, checking if you needed anything.

But now, you're alone. Truly so.

Yoongi won't come back like he did before- you'll sleep alone tonight, and somehow, it's not sad to you. Just.. odd. It feels strange to just not know what the guys are doing right now- whether or not they might think of you even. Probably not, since they're all distracted with training, new friends, and making sure they do well.

Will they be changed when they return? Will that new version still like you the same?

The first night alone passes by in a blur. You didn't eat the leftovers Yoongi made sure to pack up for you, instead you watch staff dump the contents out into the appropriate trash since they're now unsafe to eat for you. You feel oddly guilty watching it happen. Like it's your fault it spoiled.

It's obvious staff doesn't know what to really do with you.

You don't need anything, don't request anything- you eat standard instant noodles since they're easy to prepare, having watched the guys make them time and time again. And yet, even though you swear you did all the steps the exact same as Jungkook does-

It doesn't taste the same. Instead, it just makes you sad, salty tears quietly dripping into the bowl of noodles and broth you got in front of you.

You know you're just lonely. Your instincts just overreact to the unusual situation you're now in, none of your comfort people around anymore to give you any sense of security. It reminds you that you're not the same as them- that you'll never be the same, that there's always be some things you can't understand, and others they can't understand either.

You hide in bed the next day. Only come out when the staff member checks up on you.

When Yoongi returns, it's strange again- he comments on your low energy here and there, but after many answers of reassurance from your side, and even a doctor's appointment, it's clear that nothing is physically wrong with you. Nothing to worry.

It's just an inevitable change that's bound to happen at your age, or so the specialist had told Yoongi.

He refuses to really accept that- pushes it aside, and tries to take care of you the same way he did before. And it seems to work, at least in his eyes; you spend time again together, eat together, sleep together. Sometimes you spend your day at someone else's house, other times you stay inside the whole day. Yoongi takes you with him to visit his parents even, where you play with the family dog for a little and converse with his brother who'd visited coincidentally at the same time, before you go back home and get back into routine.

It's only when Jin returns, that Yoongi has to face reality.

"She's.. very quiet." Seokjin comments, as he sits on the couch, your head on his thigh as you sleep after dinner, lavishly cooked by him. "Have you maybe asked her to get-"

"We've been there already. They say it's 'normal considering her age'." Yoongi mumbles quietly, picking at his last bites on his plate before he abandons any further attempt at finishing his portion of the dinner, leaning back in the sofa as well, away from the table. "But it's so sudden. Maybe.. I don't know. Could it be something else?" He asks, and Jin looks at him.

"You mean mentally?" He asks, and the rapper nods. "Maybe. This has to be stressful for her, after all. Let's hope that maybe with one by one coming back, she'll come around as well." He sighs, running a hand over your head before he lets his palm settle on your shoulder. "I trust her that she'll tell us if she needs help."

"I hope she does." Yoongi worries, watching you sleep on his friend's lap-

Looking awfully troubled, even while dreaming.

[karmilli0n]

That's Not My Neighbor Head cannons I won't stop thinking about.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Arabella (oc):

Hopeless romantic

That one friend who's always dressed nicely even when having a breakdown

Would bail you out of jail

Easily flustered

Swears in french but says it in a sweet way, so people think she's complimenting them.

Can't pronounce "declaration"

Very insecure but acts like she's the best

Likes to be the dumb blonde because arguing with men is dumb

Dramatic queen

Marina and the Diamonds coded

Francis:

Runs off of coffee 24/7

Forgets to eat all the damn time

At some point he stopped giving a fuck about doppels

MAN CANNOT FLIRT TO SAVE HIS LIFE (it's okay bc he's unintentionally hot)

Terrible at English (grammar, etc)

Some days just talks in mumbles, and no one ever knows wtf he says

Punched a doppel without realizing it (he thought it was his coworker who wouldn't leave him tf alone-)

Milkshakes are a guilty pleasure

Got chased by a dog during a delivery, and now hates them

Basically, the batman of the building

Nacha:

Bicurious fr fr

A girl's girl

Type of woman to have pads/tampons/liners, etc, in case anyone needs one

Drops off food for Francis because she knows he forgets to eat

Honestly the best mom ever-

She's actually not very good at baking

Her relationship with Francis was: the opposite eyes where one is like happy and the other is tired-

Or like: grew up with a big family x grew up an only child

The one who actually suggested the divorce

Left handed

Has an odd fascination with pears

Anastacha:

She walked in on her parents once, and now whenever Nacha needs her, she has to go to Ana instead of Ana going to her.

Thinks it's cheesy her name is so similar to her mom's

Pretty close to both her parents

I think she'd really like The Addams Family

Good at math

Picked up saying "whatever" from upper classmen

Kinda hates the idea of romance

The type of person to just stare into your soul but in reality was zoning out (got that from her dad fr fr)

Likes picking flowers to bring to her mom after school

Steven:

Bad boy with a heart of gold

Looks like a fboy but this guy got no bitches

Kinda dumb most of the time, but gets serious when it comes to piloting

The cool uncle

Wear sunglasses even if he can't see shit

Insecure about his eyes

Definitely the type to try and fight a goose

He's an only child and wishes he had some younger siblings

Doesn't like to drink all that much

Definitely knows how to play guitar or some sort of instrument

Mclooy:

Most loyal man ever

His wife died before the doppelgangers, but once you get him talking about her he won't shut up

Taught Steven how to play guitar

Everytime he smokes he thinks of how his wife would nag him about it </3

A lot of the guys go to him for advice

I imagine he's got one of those warm hearty laughs

Was in the military for a bit

Worries about Steven everytime he goes out

Doesn't understand mental health, but does his best

Lois:

Sweetest old woman, you'll ever meet.

Carries candy on her all the time

Loves roses so much

Her and her husband are definitely grumpy x soft

Can be kind of an air head sometimes

Had a dog named Puffles when she was young

Has at least 3 kids who write her letters with pressed flowers, which she keeps

Never really liked pearls until Roman bought her a pearl necklace

She's a bit tone deaf

Roman:

Grumpiest man ever

Questions how he ever got with Lois

Knows how to play piano

Is very good with numbers

Hates he's balding but Lois reassures him all the time he's still handsome

Very uncoordinated man

Dislikes pomegranates for some reason

Loves his children very much and gives financial advice

Selenne:

More on the slim and regal side

Has begged Arabella for clothing advice

Loves matching with Elenois

Hates being separated from her sister

The friend who goes partying every night

Definitely the type to gossip with her sister

Cannot keep a secret to SAVE HER LIFE

Has the tendency to talk about topics she doesn't fully understand

Elenois:

Does Selenne's makeup because Selenne always begs her to

Definitely has accidentally called herself by her sister's name

Technically the older twin

Worries that she's not as pretty as her sister even though they look alike

A secret lesbian

Wears cherry chapstick

Hated yellow/orange at first and grew to really like it.

The type to scold you about doing something wrong, but in the process is giving you comfort items

If it wasn't for her sister encouraging her to join her in modeling. She probably would've been a sectary.

Mia:

Loves the color red WITH. A. PASSION.

Loves receiving apples too <3

Probably smells like apple blossoms too-

Very good at English

Teaches third graders

Wants to be a mother with lots and lots of kids

Her relationship with Dr. W. Afton is literally gorgeous wife x dork

Loves her silly fiance

Dyes he hair blonde

Dr. W. Afton:

Man is clueless

Also has no idea how he bagged such a beautiful woman

Loves how smart Mia is

Does questionable shit all the time

Has a thing for bunnies that doesn't feel entirely normal

Has been mistaken for a doppel by neighbors because sometimes he creeps them out

He gives me quiet kid

Definitely grew up with no siblings and extremely awkward around other women

Looks like he would freak out over a bug

Angus:

This man MOST DEFINITELY knows how to dance

He reminds me of Waluigi

He looks like he enjoys pineapple on pizza

A lady's man fr fr

Would treat you so well

A romantic

Smokes a lot, though, because work is hard

Drinks red wine

Has a fancy ass bathrobe that lowkey Slenne is jealous of

Izaack:

Chad

Peaked in highschool

Nosiest mf ever

He's somewhat sweet

Misogynist

Very good at his job

Likes Selenne and gives her all the gossip

Has flirted with all the women in the building at LEAST once (shoot ur shot ig)

He's most proud of his jaw line

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Author's note: Someone should lmk if I should do more :P also I might do something with Arabella more dive deeper into her- I'm just doing this for fun, for myself really because I was just gonna wrote most of these in my notes app. I doubt many people will read this so-

[666writingcafe]

Checking In

Lucifer

Once my brothers are settled in for the evening, I quietly leave the House and begin walking back to the castle. I need to apologize to Diavolo for what happened a few hours ago, but more importantly, I need to see Zephyr. I haven't quite decided whether to yell at them or comfort them.

The exhausted look in their eyes as they answer the door to one of the spare bedrooms tells me that they're not in the mood for a lecture.

Normally, that doesn't stop me from giving one, but for some reason, I can't find it in me to berate Zephyr for their actions. Not even a little bit.

They walk over to the desk they have set up and start looking through various papers. I make my way over to the bed and sit on the side facing them.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" I ask.

"Can't," Zephyr answers, more focused on their work than on me.

"Can't, or won't?" They glare at me briefly. "Simply a question, Zephyr. Nothing more."

"I have to distract myself. If I don't keep myself busy, I'm going to kill Solomon."

"For calling you 'MC'?" That got their attention. They look like they're moments away from biting my head off.

"Listen, I understand why you're upset."

"Do you?" they bark angrily.

"You trusted him to keep your old identity a secret, yes?" Zephyr blinks awkwardly before closing their eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just..." Another deep breath as their eyes begin watering.

"It's okay. Take your time."

"I'll be fine." Sighing, they leave their desk and sit beside me on the bed.

"Do you want to know why I answered Diavolo's ad in the paper?" they ask me. I shrug.

"I assumed it was for the money." Zephyr shakes their head.

"I had to make the transition alone. I didn't want you guys to have the same experience I did, because it was rough."

"You weren't always a demon?" Another sigh.

"I was born human, Lucifer."

Oh. That explains a few things.

"I come from a long line of powerful and notorious sorcerers," they continue. "Everyone in my family wants to cause as much chaos as possible simply because they find it hilarious to watch people suffer. I didn't participate in any of their illegal and shady activities, obviously, but I still had a target on my back. No matter where I went in the human world, people were on the hunt for me. I was more or less a fugitive, and all because I was related to a whole bunch of criminals.

"Then one day, I met a group of demons. They were part of an organization that granted humans asylum in the Devildom. I told them my story, and they not only encouraged me to seek it out, but they also made sure that my application was approved as quickly as possible. However, that meant shedding all my ties to the human world and becoming a full-fledged demon. Shortly after I arrived here, the organization was forced to dissolve, and any evidence of its existence disappeared without a trace."

I'm not surprised something like that happened. If Diavolo is telling me the truth about his father, then I have no doubt that he had a heavy hand in annihilating that organization.

"So where does Solomon come in all this?"

"He's worked with my family over the course of my childhood. I was told he was a friend, but I learned at a very young age to not trust anyone that they liked."

"And yet you have his mark on you."

"That's because when we reconnected several years later, I learned that he was trying to become a more reputable sorcerer. Of course, I didn't believe him at first, but then I started hearing good things about him from people I did trust. Eventually, I wanted to help him with his goal, and so I agreed to enter a pact with him."

"I see."

Well, no wonder Zephyr's able to remain calm around us. We probably seem like a fucking cake walk compared to what they've been through. And having to do it all by themselves on top of it?

I feel a strange mix of emotions: sadness, anger, and...

Pride.

Which makes very little sense. How can I be proud of someone that I barely know? They're just our attendant, after all.

Or are they?

Tears threaten to spill out of Zephyr's eyes again.

I shouldn't stay here. Maybe I can flag down one of Diavolo's servants and have them get tissues or something for them.

But I have to remain professional. Who knows what would happen if I give in?

My heart beats my brain. Soon, I'm holding Zephyr in my arms as they quietly cry into my chest.

Memories of me comforting my siblings like this begin playing in my head. Is Zephyr family? They've certainly integrated quite well into ours, but that's only so that they can better assist us, right?

And yet the way they're grabbing onto me...

Eventually, they pull back, and as I let go of them, our eyes meet. For one brief yet scary moment, they look exactly like Lilith.

I lean in and kiss their forehead, for old time's sake.

But then my brain takes over again, and I'm suddenly questioning everything I just did.

"Sorry," I mumble, scrambling to get out of that room before I do something stupid again. I shouldn't be feeling this way about them. Even if they weren't born a demon, that doesn't change the fact that they've been one for much longer than me and my brothers have. I still have to lead by example, and I can't do that if I'm too busy fawning over them.

Who cares what they think? You deserve to be happy.

I'm going to need some time alone to think.

~~~

A Few Days Later

A Text Conversation

Lucifer: Are you doing okay?

Zephyr (MC): That's funny. I was about to text you the very same question.

Lucifer: Of course you were.

Zephyr: To answer your question, I'm doing better. Might even head back to the cottage soon.

Lucifer: That's good.

Lucifer: Listen, I want to properly apologize to you for what happened.

Zephyr: Which part?

Lucifer: Me running away.

Zephyr: *wide-eyed emoji*

Lucifer: What did you expect me to say, that I regretted comforting you when you needed it?

Zephyr: Kind of, yeah.

Lucifer: I know it seemed that way at the time, but I can assure you, that wasn't it at all.

Lucifer: It's taken me a bit for me to admit this, but I was scared.

Zephyr: Of?

Lucifer: My feelings.

Lucifer: The positive ones, I mean.

Zephyr: *confused sticker*

Lucifer: If it's alright with you, I'd like to get to know you more.

Zephyr: In a friendly way?

Lucifer: Something like that.

Zephyr: Lucifer...

Lucifer: Yes?

Zephyr: Why the indirect answer?

Lucifer: I'm still getting used to the idea of seeing you as more than simply an attendant. Please be patient with me.

Zephyr: Of course.

Zephyr: Are you wanting to do something low key, or do I need to find a fancy outfit?

Lucifer: *confused sticker*

Zephyr: Just trying to gauge where you're at, whether you're simply wanting to become friends or wishing for something more than that.

Lucifer: *several wide-eyed emojis*

Zephyr: Alright then. Low key it is. How about a nice stroll through one of the parks? Wear whatever makes you feel comfortable. No pressure to do anything beyond walking and talking, and you can leave whenever for whatever reason, even if it's because you're simply sick of hearing the sound of my voice droning on and on.

Lucifer: *a few laughing emojis*

Lucifer: Sounds good. Just let me know when and where.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch

[yellowhollyhock]

okay okay so the 2003 turtles. The mutagen is a byproduct of Utrom technology right. And made hem super strong and intelligent, but when Splinter describes their mutation he mostly emphasizes intelligence. Which is the opposite of what Bishop's mutagen does in season 4, instead of increased intelligence and super durable bodies you get reverting to lizard brain and cells breaking down. Or was the cells breaking down only Donny because of how it interacted with his mutation? I think it's not specified and for a few reasons I prefer option 1 but I'll have to go back and check

Anyway. Thinking about how some versions of turtles have Hamato Yoshi's DNA, thus part human, while others are literally hyper-intelligent giant turtles. Technically 0% human just seem humanoid because of how the mutagen affected them

So so what I'm saying is. They're not part Utrom either, like it's just a byproduct, however, it makes more sense that the heightened intelligence would be making a creature more Utrom-like rather than humanoid

And so and so see guys the the hive mind. The 2003 turtles, the codependency the silent communication. The type of intelligence the mutagen caused them to develop specifically being a kind that would lead to: extremely tight knit social unit, each member responsible for a certain role in order to make one whole, loyalty to a cause and/or leader. Also the extreme importance for little blob creatures living cooperatively like that of not physically harming each other, as well as durability (Ch'rell the cockroach)

And then! think about Leatherhead. Developing that type of intelligence while also being socialized with the Utrom. And going from that to being completely alone. And the fact that after being so traumatized by Bishop he retreats back to the familiarity of the last thing that traumatized him so deeply, because he's so afraid of hurting his friends. The fact that the only people on earth who can understand his specific social needs are right there and want him with them but he can't.