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vvatchword · 1 year ago

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Brother Jack

Delta knew right away that he couldn’t afford to stick to the forest behind the house. Eleanor would always find him. She could just appear at his side. He didn’t dare look at her mind straight-on, but he could feel her fury radiating out of the house. It was directed at the others now. She wasn’t thinking about him.

He had to take a chance.

He didn’t run for the woods, but for the road. He kept to a deer path in the trees until he got to the road—he didn’t want to chance the girls seeing him go, only to alert Eleanor—then turned toward town and ran for it.

He could run like hell. The sun beat down on him. He hadn’t gotten very far when he hit another small group of Sisters. These were Tenenbaum’s youngest. They shouted altogether when they saw him, but he didn’t stop. He just plunged past them at a full sprint.

He’d been engineered to carry a suit that weighed a full ton. He’d been given ungodly endurance. Every breath utilized oxygen more efficiently than a normal human being; every ounce of food he ate, more energy. He was a freight train given flesh and he flew.

He could tell that Eleanor was too far to suss him out by about the sixth mile. He only slowed down by the tenth, and by that time, he’d hit town.

He immediately felt like he’d made a mistake. Cars kept stopping in the street to gawk at him. Pedestrians crossed the road when they saw him, sometimes at a jog. He looked in a window at himself and shuddered. He was filthy from working in the yard all day, and he was wearing his old shoes with the holes in the sides. He was so tall, and he didn’t look right. There was a way to look and he didn’t have it anymore.

A black-and-white car marked with a seal drifted to a stop across the street, then pulled a U-turn and rolled up beside him. Delta hunched his shoulders, kept his eyes forward.

“Hey,” a man said. “You. Big guy.”

Delta looked over his shoulder. A man in a dark uniform and sunglasses was stepping out of the car. Another man in dark glasses sat at the steering wheel, holding a radio.

“Yeah, you,” the policeman said. “Come here.”

Delta shook his head.

“You keep walking, and I can arrest you for resistance,” said the cop. His hand rested on his weapon.

Delta hesitated. He wasn’t afraid of the policeman or his gun. For the first time in a long time, he thought about what it would mean to kill somebody. He could cross that gap between them in a second, and he could twist the cop’s head off in the next.

His hands twitched. He turned to face him, drawing upright. At his full height, he stood eight and a half feet tall. To the cop’s credit, he didn’t flinch, but he did unbutton his holster.

“You better not cause trouble,” said the cop. “I put in a call to the state hospital. They’ll pick you up in 30 minutes.”

“There you are,” a man said in a colorless voice. “Hey, thanks officer. I’ve been looking for this guy.”

Delta scanned the street. A big white guy in a Panama hat, long-sleeved shirt, and slacks was strolling up the sidewalk toward him. He wore aviator glasses. And hell, he was a lot bigger than most people. Delta’s eyes locked on him, wondering.

“This guy’s yours?” asked the cop. “I don’t recognize you. Are you from out of town?”

“Yep,” said the stranger.

Delta brought his hands up and started signing, hoping against hope. He didn’t dare make sounds. Making sounds would make it worse.

“Who are you?” he asked.

To his shock, the big guy signed back.

“A friend,” he said. “Hold still. Don’t scare the guy.”

“Okay.”

The cop relaxed and buttoned his gun. “Oh, I see. Deaf mute?”

“Just mute.” The guy’s voice was rough and grumbly like from cigarettes. “Don’t worry, his bark is worse than his bite.” He turned to Delta. A white man, probably. Looked old, perhaps in his sixties. “Come here, will you, buddy? You’re scaring the people out here.”

He also signed at him: “Don’t worry. We have to get you off the street.”

“What do you want?” Delta asked.

“I’ll tell you once I deal with the fuzz.”

“What’s he saying?” the cop said.

“That he got lost,” said the stranger. “He wondered where I’d gotten to.”

“Okay, okay. Just get that guy off the street,” the cop said, sliding back into the car. “He’s scaring people.”

With that, the stranger walked up to him—Delta had backed up under the awning of a sub shop—and held out his hand. There was a gap between cuff and arm. It was an old, wrinkled arm, liver spots on the hands. But once this close, Delta could see the faint traces of Plasmid scarring across the knuckles, down the arm, across the palms, like jags of lightning.

Delta rolled his arm and looked down. He had the same scarring, faint and shining in the sun. Suddenly he felt cold.

Delta shook his head “no.”

“Please go away,” he signed. “I don’t need help.”

“You’re going to get shot without me. Trust me.” The stranger set a hand on his wrist. His palm was rough.

“You’re from there,” Delta signed.

“Same as you,” the stranger signed back. “Come on. I’ve got a place for you to stay.”

“I already have a place,” Delta said.

“So why did you leave it?” asked the stranger, taking him by the elbow. He wasn’t signing anymore, but speaking aloud.

Delta found himself following. What else could he do? The idea of going back to the farmhouse closed his throat. He didn’t want to see Eleanor. He didn’t want to see anyone. He wanted to disappear.

It was astonishing for him to realize that he hadn’t suffered from an intrusive memory once since fleeing the house. He held himself a little straighter. He had a clearer head than he could remember since… well, the beginning. Thoughts seemed to be coming to him faster. That was a good sign, right?

“So where were you going?” asked the stranger. He directed him down a quiet side street. Delta followed.

“I don’t know.”

“A guy like you stands out. You aren’t safe here. Maybe you’d be safe in a big city. Maybe.” The stranger looked up at him, unsmiling. “There are people looking for you and your girls, you know. Powerful people.”

Delta stared down, eyes wide.

“Who?” he asked. “Why?”

“Can you imagine a whole military filled with people like you?” asked the man. “Big, powerful, always following orders?”

Delta shuddered. “But that would hurt them.”

“They don’t care.” The man smiled grimly. “Look, I need something from Dr. Tenenbaum.”

With that, the man whistled. From a side street, two skinny guys in bib overalls came running, both holding paper bags filled with groceries. They wore faded ballcaps and shoes that were just a little too big. Delta’s first thought was that they were mechanics.

They pattered up on either side, staring up unabashedly into Delta’s face, and the smell of them hit him like a brick. He stared back in shock. These weren’t guys—these were Sisters. There was the unnatural height, the unnatural slenderness, the strange eyes. Both were dark-skinned—one probably had parents from India; the other’s might have been from Mexico. They were cured Sisters, too. No fingers picked at his thoughts.

“Tell me,” said the stranger. “How close is too close for your Sister?”

“Six, maybe seven miles,” Delta said. “I need to get out of town.”

He couldn’t believe how easily it came out of his hands. The idea of leaving Eleanor filled him with an overwhelming relief.

“You want to leave your Sister?” asked one of the girls. Her eyes were huge.

“Yes.” Delta glanced aside into a storefront. “She…”

He couldn’t think of what to say. She told his secret to everybody? She wouldn’t listen to him when he said no? She didn’t care about his feelings? It all sounded so silly when he thought about it.

“Don’t know much about Alpha series,” said the stranger. “I never met one. But I heard they each only had one Sister. I’m guessing your Sister is the, ah… possessive type?”

It felt horrible to think it. Possessive—Eleanor, possessive. Admitting to it felt like name-calling, so Delta said nothing. He looked away.

“We have to assume she’s headed this way,” said the stranger. “So we do one of two things: we jump on a train or we get on a bus. What do you feel like doing, Mr. B?”

Delta rubbed his arms. “What’s fastest?”

“John Barton, there you are,” a familiar voice drawled out. “Now I know you aren’t heading off somewhere with strangers.”

Delta whirled. So did the stranger and the Sisters. Sinclair leaned out the window of his car, rolling a cigarette in his mouth.

“Augustus Sinclair,” said the stranger in a wondering voice. “I knew you were around here.”

“Who’s he?” asked one of the girls, signing.

“Oh, I’m just the friend of this big lug here,” said Sinclair, jerking his chin up at Delta. “Come on, big hoss. You’re coming back with me.”

Delta shook his head, backing into the wall.

Sinclair laughed.

“Some things never change,” he said. “Chief, what on Earth could possess you to come all the way out here? Those girls back home called me cryin’ up a storm.”

Sinclair was talking like they hadn’t kissed at all! Delta burned. Could no one hear him? Would no one take him seriously at all? Was he cursed to be shunted from one person to another for the rest of eternity?

“Looks like the big guy’s made up his mind,” said the stranger. “Gotta say I understand the sentiment.”

“I must admit, I’m at a bit of a loss,” said Sinclair, swinging his door open. “You know who I am, but I haven’t got a clue about you.” He pushed himself upright, balanced on the car. “Do give me the pleasure of your introduction.”

“Oh, we’ve never met.” The man took off his glasses and his hat and shook his hair out. He was gray-headed, had a short, scruffy beard. When he raised his head, he smiled. His irises glowed faintly gold. “The name is Jack Wynand. You knew my father.”

Sinclair’s smile never broke. He laughed and leaned back against his car.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “Must say, never thought I’d see you in the flesh. Tell me, what use do you have for an old Alpha model, anyway?”

Delta bristled. Sinclair wasn’t looking at him. Sinclair’s eyes were locked on Jack’s.

Jack bent his head. “It’s less about him and more about Tenenbaum,” he said. “If she can revert Big Daddies…”

“Now how’d you figure that out?” Sinclair asked.

“…then she can revert me.” Jack bent his head. “I want ADAM stripped from me. I don’t care what it does.”

The Sisters shrank at his sides, faces full of misgiving.

“With your luck, it’d shrink you to a fetus,” said Sinclair.

“Then that’s what I want,” Jack said.

“Well, son, you’re too late,” Sinclair said. “No ADAM left. Not a drop. Takes gallons for something like that, from what I understand.”

“And you?” asked Jack.

“Me?” Sinclair asked.

A car stopped behind Sinclair’s, honked, and then slowly pulled around them. Sinclair waved at them, gave them an apologetic grimace, turned back to Jack.

Jack spoke again. “So they saved you, and they saved Dr. Porter, but they didn’t save this man here.” Jack jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Delta glanced down at the thumb, then at Sinclair. Sinclair didn’t skip a beat. His brows rose and he gave Jack a brilliant smile.

“I see you’ve done your homework!” he said.

“Answer me,” said Jack. “Why did they save one of the biggest sharks of Rapture before one of his victims?”

Sinclair’s smile was finally cooling. “Well, son, if you don’t know, then I don’t think you ought to.”

Delta felt the flicker at the edge of his mind a second too late.

The air shuddered. There was a tearing, popping sound. Suddenly Eleanor was directly behind him, pressed up against his back. Delta closed his eyes, shoulders sinking. The two Sisters whirled to face her, mouths agape. Jack turned slowly, fingers flexing. He dropped his cigarette. It fell from his fingers like he’d forgotten it.

“Oh, Eleanor,” said Sinclair. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Your boy’s made a hell of a friend today.”

Big Sisters slowly stepped out of the alleys on either side of them, eyes locked on Jack. They were wearing slacks and jeans and what Tenenbaum called their “garden shoes.” Their fingers were curled into claws. There was a heaviness in the air that could not be explained by the weather.

“I think you better get moving, son,” said Sinclair, leaning back against the car.

“I’m going with him,” Delta signed.

Finally, a reaction. One of the Sisters gasped. Eleanor’s hand tightened on his wrist. Sinclair went white.

“Honey, you don’t want to do that,” he said.

“Nobody cares what I want,” Delta said.

“That’s not true!” Eleanor said. The words poured out of her so fast that at first they weren’t comprehensible.

“There are only two people here who know what it’s like to be us,” Jack said softly. His fingers were twitching, twitching, twitching. “Don’t you agree, Subject Delta?”

“I don’t want to fight,” Delta said quickly. “I just want to leave. I’ll go anywhere.”

“Daddy!” Eleanor said. “Don’t!”

Her voice was panicky. Delta savored it—until she pushed into his mind. She was simply there, effortlessly, and she could see everything, and she was crying, but he couldn’t push her out, he wasn’t equipped to push her out, they’d never made him as anything other than a gun she summoned at a whim.

He roared and twisted out of her grip. The Sisters all jumped, Sinclair twitched, and even Jack sprang back. Delta thrilled to it. Yes, jump! Good old Subject Delta! Good old chief! He’ll do anything you ask for a smile and a pat on the back!

“You all think I’m a child!” Delta said. “You all think I’m an idiot!”

“I don’t think that at all!” Eleanor said.

“Stop telling me what to do!” Delta said. “I’m tired!”

“Eleanor,” Sinclair said. “Maybe I should take over.”

She whirled on him, her mouth opening and shutting. Sinclair was white, and he was no longer smiling. His eyes locked on Delta’s.

“You know what you need, honey?” he asked. He held up a hand. “You need out of this sun.” He extended a finger. “You need a sit.” A second finger rose. “You need a cold drink.” A third finger. “And more than that, you need to get out of this little town before the sheriff shows up. Come on. I’ll take you to my place.”

Eleanor shook her head over and over, but the Sisters were moving in. One grabbed her arm. The others kept a healthy distance from Jack and his Sisters, both of whom had set their bags of groceries against the wall and shoved their hands into their pockets.

Jack hadn’t moved at all. He had watched. He had listened. His eyes were unnaturally bright.

“Delta,” he said, “if you come with me, I promise I’ll treat you like a person deserves.”

Eleanor sputtered, frozen between taking complete control of his body—forcing him back to the house—and letting go. Jack waited, only watching, only listening. Who knew what he wanted? But Delta was staring at Sinclair, swaying in place like one hypnotized.

Suddenly all of his memories seemed so foolish. How long ago had they been, anyway? Sinclair probably had a new boyfriend already. He probably got over Delta back when he died the first time. He’d locked him up in a room. What kind of guy locked people up in rooms?

“Are you going to lock me up?” Delta asked.

Now it was Sinclair’s turn to flinch. His eyes were wet.

“Oh, John,” he said.

He said it in such a defeated, quiet way.

Delta sighed. He sank down.

“I’m going with Sinclair,” he said. “Thanks, Jack.”

The Sisters relaxed. Eleanor’s mind grudgingly lifted from his. She rubbed her arm across her face.

Jack glanced up at him. “You’re making a mistake,” he said.

“I know,” Delta said, and stepped into the street.

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

#bioshock #bioshock 2 #subject delta #topclair #augustus sinclair #jack wynand #eleanor lamb #fanfiction #writing #uprising #long brown evening #vvatchword #this particular part of the fanfic is not exactly no one dies everyone lives but it's also entirely that somehow #I think it'll end up very very different if l ever end up writing an epilogue #I just got hit with the brainworm and so this exists now #enjoy #or don't #there's more and it involves the feds and a GI being thrown against a courthouse wall and culminates in the assassination of Ronald Reagan #I should probably finish it only because it's batshit crazy

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achocolativorrousartistblog · 7 months ago

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We're here again, that means another OC, this one was made for roleplay, but, I kinda loved the design so I gave her lore in my fav sector (Sector Z, gotta post the tons of drawing I have of them later) and that's it, let's go!. (This might be shorter than Heather's, also, yes, every character of mine will be Chilean cause I'm Chilean)

(2/2)

[⚠️ There might be some grammar mistakes, not just because it's not my first language but also because it's 4 AM and I still can't get myself to go to sleep without publishing thing.]

Luz Montero

Luz Montero Wigglestaine is a tall 16 year old female with long curly dyed hair, tan skin, baby blue eyes and round nose.

She's the grade's secretary, though she isn't involved in planning against the KND, she thinks it's immature and nonsense, still she will turn on the alerts and go with the plans they want her to follow.

Ironically, is kind of friends/allies with Cree Lincoln, Luz is the one who cleans up the mess at the teenage ninjas' parties and they collect a dollar from whoever wants to pay (if Cree doesn't say it's for the soda) and that's her salary.

Has fought some KND agents but usually she just immobilizes them and leaves, she gets paid a lot but not enough to fight children just because the others had plans.

At high school she's rather intimidating, her voice is calm but she's usually with a serious or mad expression, since all the work gets thrown to her because the grade president prefers to go to party's than do school job.

She's actually pretty shy, she is passionate about books and if she has a free moment she will lock herself up to read, not as mean with kids, she's not aggressive until someone hits first.

Luz was also known as Numbuh 0.11, occasional member of Sector Z, mostly because they got used to overwhelming themselves with missions and other stuff and weren't taking their health very seriously, also because Luz was bilingual and available to be removed from the medical barracks and placed in a formal sector, since (Headcanon) they were all orphans without legal guardians or an appropriate institution, they lived in their tree house.

She was the medic and specialist in paint weaponry, using her own paint guns to attack the enemy.

When Sector Z disappeared she was sick, so she didn't go on the mission and stayed in her own house, from then on till she was 13 she was super paranoid about what could happen to any others if she was sick, becoming a workaholic in the medical area until she was decommissioned.

_____________________________________________

Very noticeable, she is indeed Father's biological daughter, when Benedict was young he started to have one-night stands with several women, including Agustina Montero, a Chilean girl his age who was on her vacations visiting England and things happen, she got pregnant, but she didn't have his number, nothing more than name and looks, her parents supported her until she could go to United States with a 7 year old Luz, she decided to give the kid Benedict's last name, Why? No one knows.

Luz was raised without a father and that was fine, she didn't mind, it hurt to spend father's day without a "real" father, but she had her grandpa, she didn't care.

Trivia!

She dyes all her hair, eliminating its bluish undertone and adding blonde strands.

For some reason she feels her appearance isn't good, she knows she's her bio father's almost whole copy, but senses something bad about him so she erases what could be similar.

I'm actually used to roleplay with her kid version instead of the teen one, just because, no real reason.

She's bilingual.

You could say she hates The Steve because of how loud and annoying he is for her.

She never speaks up, she just speaks when spoken to and not much more.

If you're friends however it's like buying a bird, she will never shut up.

If she got to meet Nigel, she would probably flood him with candy, toys and Yipper cards, don't ask her how she got those last ones.

If she got to know DCFDTL condition while decommissioned, she would actually not care much, however, if she was recommissioned, she would break down.

(I have to refine her lore, there are things that might not match and I'm not getting, but, for now, that's all, Thanks! Have a good day/night! 💜)

#knd oc #knd #codename knd #codename kids next door #Luz Montero

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riansdiary · 7 months ago

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My BRIDGERTON S3 E1 Reaction/Annotation 🎉

My dearest gentle readers,

It is finally time to start off my new series of posts for my written reaction to Bridgerton Season 3! We are doing the first episode on this one! I wanna thank all the amazing members of the ton who have liked my post about this letting me know that you'd like to see this. I will include screenshots if it is extremely necessary! This is not the first time I'm watching, this is my second but I'll still share thoughts I had from my first watch! My favorite characters are Eloise and Benedict! Yes, my favorite Bridgerton siblings! Penelope would be the third probably! I also have a special place in my heart for Lady Danbury and Kate! I love them. Philippa is also super adorable to me especially when she said her iconic line. Now, Varley! The bugs!

That is all, shall we start? Warning: There will be spoilers.

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I love that they do this every year! It's like someone was giving birth inside the room but it's just really one of the sisters getting their makeup done and putting on their beautiful gowns!

This is my face when Kathony appeared: 🥹

Would you look at her dress? It is just so beautifully done! I love Kate's looks even more this season and I'm so happy that Anthony is being himself and is so cute with her! How is it that they didn't know that it was Frannie playing the pianoforte downstairs? Even Kate knew. Now, do you know what I'm really curious about? How did our girl escape from that room? Everyone is literally outside of that room. How did she get to the drawing room from there? Nevermind, I think she said that she woke up early.

I love Hannah Dodd! I actually recognized her as soon as I saw her. I thought that she looked familiar at first and then it clicked to me that she was in Enola Holmes 2! One of my favorite movies! She was the missing girl. Her character was Cicely or Sarah Chapman. She was amazing there so I knew she would do Francesca justice!

Aw, Pen staring at Eloise as they walked out of Aubrey Hall was heartbreaking to me. Not my favorite besties in the show not getting along anymore! They both made a mistake and I really hoped that they could resolve it.

Here's my honest opinion on Colin's F-boy era: I know his glow up was great and every girl is out to get him but he didn't need to be such a RAKE about it! I want our sweet romantic boy back!

Let's look at our boy's glow up though! I am very proud of him. Look at our boy! If only he used that to be more honorable and acted like a prince more instead of turning into a rake. Come on, where's our sweet Colin from S1 and S2? I just really miss him not trying to fit in and just being his sweet self.

Nice Colin! I love his hair better now. We love the curls! He did look cute before but I gasped and my jaw dropped when I saw him first in this specific scene! I was like: Wow! He looks so good! Penelope will fall even more for him.

I love that he calls Eloise "El" it's so cute! I myself have a nickname for her but let's be honest, Colin's nickname for her is way better. It's "Lou" or "Loulou" cause she's Eloise. There's that "Lou" sound when you say her name even if the u is not there but you know what, Colin's is way cuter. I'm gonna call her "El" instead.

Ah, the intro always hits. It just calms me down when I hear the opening theme!

I love Anthony's line when the brothers were in the carriage! "Who are you? What have you done with our brother?" My second favorite Anthony line after "Lilies, Forget-me-not, Lilacs!" 😆

Gregory was so adorable when he was imitating Colin! "Mm. I should like some... proportion." That was so funny for me. I loved Anthony and Benedict's reaction to that! Love how they both leaned to the left when they smiled at Gregory! One of my favorite Bridgerton brothers moments for sure!

The mom and the daughter speaking to each other with sign language! I loved that they added that!

Let me say one thing about Mama Featherington. What I like about her is that she always does her best to take care of her daughters. Maybe not in emotional ways but rather in the financial way. Love that about her. The thing that I disliked about her is how she treats Penelope. She teaches Pen to dumb herself down so men can tell her things. While that is a good strategy, it is not entirely true. I think Lord Debling would have wanted Pen to just be herself and talk intellectually with her. I didn't like the way she treats Pen at all. She underestimates her own daughter. Dare I say, she doesn't even know her daughter.

Oh Portia, you are so so clueless. That is literally Pen to a T except she has more money.

Cressida, Cressida, Cressida. I hate it every time she comes to bully Penelope or ruin her dress like she does almost every time. I do love her gigantic sleeves 🤣

I never wanted Mama Bridgerton to move so thank God Kate doesn't want her to move either! Also, look at her entire outfit and hair! Slayed! So gorgeous!

One of my favorite moments appears after that which is the moment Lady Danbury called them Lady Bridgerton and they both answered! I found that so heartwarming to be honest.

Great, every debutante is in love with Colin. He is the charm machine this season. Just be yourself sweetie!

When Cressida's mom said: "Or does common thievery run in the family?"

I would've immediately said: "Does bullying run in yours?" 😎

Portia is the one who has been dressing or at least choosing Penelope's gowns and you don't know how relieved I was when Pen said that she doesn't want to see a single citrus color on her new dress. She's finally using Whistledown money for her own good. Yes girl!

I love how Anthony is letting Gregory play with the bow and arrow but not where their mother can see it! Benedict and Hyacinth coming along with them was so cute!

Colin's timing when his mother wondered if they will ever be on time was fantastic! And the fact that it's a watch gift too! 💡

I cannot say enough about how much I love Francesca's gowns! They're so pretty and the hair! I wanna do that with my hair too! It just gives me Belle from the Beauty and the Beast vibes! So elegant! Emma Watson, my role model of all time was a great Belle but I think Hannah Dodd also looks like Belle especially with the hairstyle they gave her which is almost exactly the same hairstyle that Belle often has!

Eloise reading Emma! Okay, personally I haven't read but as my favorite YouTuber Darling Desi loves Emma, I know for a fact that it is an amazing book! Please watch her if you wanna relax or if you are a book lover too! She has a lot of aesthetic and lovely seasonal, cottagecore and other types of videos!

Colin questioning Eloise about why she's befriending Cressida. Our boy is at least there for Penelope when it comes to El and when it counts! She said that no one showed her kindness but Penelope does.

I cried. It was so hard and heart-wrenching to watch Eloise and Penelope's first scene together at the modiste. It's the first scene where Penelope finally approached her. Not my favorite best friends!

This necklace on Nicola was so beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off it!

Okay, I know there are people who are siding with both. There are some who said a lot of bad things about my Eloise. That it's her fault and that she's a horrible friend but let's get into the bottom of this. I want to share my point and this is it. What's a character without a flaw? Someone who's too perfect, could be boring and seemingly less human. Penelope and Eloise both made mistakes and it's true.

Penelope could have told her earlier that she's Lady Whistledown. Eloise is her best friend and I feel like she would be fine with it. She didn't really hate Whistledown and I'm sure she would have been ecstatic if Pen confessed to her earlier. Yes, Penelope only wrote about Eloise to save her but she still dragged her family to filth. I know she had no other way to protect her but it still did something to their reputation. It was revealed in part two that it was true, that Eloise was a little jealous of Penelope's success and her being Lady Whistledown. That kind of added fuel to the fire. Pen did write about Colin and Eloise both as Lady Whistledown and that did a lot of damage to their reputation as a family. People tend to forget that Eloise couldn't continue to be friends with Theo because Pen wrote about it. They were so cute and she was starting to feel something for him. Both of them.

I am kind of hoping that we get a different kind of love for Eloise if it's possible for her to be with Theo instead of Crane. It would be quite interesting to see someone from nobility fall in love with a normal person. I would love to see that and that would be so much more dramatic and romantic. Rich girl, poor boy trope anyone? Yeah, I did adore Theo a lot, he's so cute with her!!! ❤️

Eloise wasn't always mean to her during their feud. When Cressida ripped Pen's dress, she looked so apologetic and almost teary-eyed. What I wanted to say is that they both hurt each other and I hope this will make them grow.

The Mondrich couple are one of my favorite side stories. They might not be nobility or royal before but damn, they dress so well! Just look at them! I love that pink gown 😍 and it matches with his outfit!

I love Newton so much! One of our puppies is part corgi so she kind of looks like Newton! So cute!

Me when Penelope said "I should like to try something a little different tonight.": 😱🫢👍

Yes queen, enough of the citrus colors (not that they're bad cause I saw the Featherington fam in S2 wearing gold and I was like 😍) that your mamma always dresses you in! Penelope hair and gown glow up! Ahhh! Her entrance scene with the new look is one of my favorite moments! Everyone was astounded by her beauty and we all know it especially you Colin! A lady with red hair in green dresses is just a match made in heaven! It just works! Nicola or Penelope's smile when she walks down the stairs and notices that everyone is looking at her was so beautiful!

Cressida Cowper and her iconic always gigantic sleeves!

Oh Colin "down bad" Bridgerton stopping to stare at Pen! I think he doesn't know he had feelings for her or is it because of the fact that he is roleplaying as his brothers? I heard somewhere that Colin is trying to put on a mask, be a rake and act like his brothers because he's trying so hard to fit in. He just always has seen Pen as a friend and doesn't recognize how he feels about her.

Pen was so nervous when she was talking to the men who approached her and yet she's so confident and charming as Whistledown. I guess we can say they never talked to her as much before so this is the first time. I hate that they left her early because they don't want Whistledown to write about them with Pen ugh! They don't wanna be written that they're with her but remember they were the ones who loved her look and approached her? Oh my God, fight me! 😠

Eloise staring at Penelope: 👀

Me: "I'm sure you're proud of her. Maybe secretly but just go talk to her!" 😆

The Penelope and Francesca moment was so wholesome and I loved that they had each other.

Every time Cressida Cowper ruins Penelope's gowns I'm like: 😤😡🤬

The guy who said this to Colin: "Miss Featherington, why concern yourself with her?" I don't like him. I don't like any of Colin's new friends, they are insufferable! How rude! Why concern himself with her? Well are you dumb? They're friends hello?

"I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington" was the worst thing that came out of Colin's mouth. Lies, lies and more lies!

Portia is so smart when it comes to saving her girls! I love that about her!

They were so smart about how they covered Claudia Jessie's injury! I did enjoy the Eloise and Cressida's promenade scene where she's scolding her about what she did to Penelope's dress! Eloise still does care about Pen. We're seeing a bit of Cressida's good side there. Loved that. I think she thinks Pen is a threat even though she doesn't wanna say it. She has been bullying her for a long time and trying to ruin her chances with men. She feels threatened by her. She could easily snatch the attention of the men without doing that to Pen. She wouldn't do that if she thinks that Pen doesn't have a chance.

Love that Kate convinces Anthony to let Violet stay! The Bridgerton drawing room is literally my favorite room or place in the show. The blue is just so calming and the place is so cozy.

Colin apologizing to Pen was sweet but she got friendzoned yet again! Oh Colin. Pen's wearing green again! It's so perfect with her red hair I tell you! He's finally appreciating Pen. Thank God.

The Mondrich family are now members of the ton? Yes! They deserve it!

Me when Eloise is reading the new Whistledown issue about Colin: "No no no no no, I feel a storm coming on! A storm of drama. She's not going to like that. Neither will he. Yikes, Pen."

Colin: What are you reading?

Eloise: Nothing.

Colin: 🙂‍↔️🤨

Eloise: 😐

This was so funny to watch even though the situation was, you know, dire. I loved that they could talk just with their eyes and face expressions! Something that reminds me of me and my own siblings!

Penelope calling out Colin's act! Yes!

Colin: I will never forgive her

Me: They're setting it up, oh no. Here we go. He's not gonna like it when he finds out it's her

He literally said "I will make sure it is her life that is ruined." Oh my God! Pen, what now!

---------------------------------------------------

And that is it, everyone! I hope you enjoyed my first one! My reaction to the first episode of Bridgerton! This was fun to do! If you noticed that I'm suddenly talking in Bridgerton style, it's because it's easy for me to pick up accents and ways of speaking! I had so much fun with this! See you on the next one! 💋

#penelope bridgerton #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #reaction #annotations #art of annotating #my reaction

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sunny-clover · 2 years ago

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OH RIGHT MY ITERATION

Okay so these are just the concept info pages I made and these are not the final designs though, I’ve updated some designs A TON already

OKAY this iteration is called

TMNT 2032

and these pages are in order of when I made them so there’s no rhyme or reason.

This is Cassius Casey (Kirby) Jones, he’s the first person I designed for the AU and his design does not look like this at all anymore. He’s got Japanese heritage from one side of the fam and Mexican on the other. No real reason except I wanna push my Spanglish onto him. Also he’s gay.

This is April O’Neil, she’s the second person I designed but I never really thought her I through. She I guess has a possessed softball bat cause she’s a lesbian and the bat is a reference to Rise April. Her mother’s family is Indian and her dad’s is either Indian-American or African American. Like I said before, I haven’t thought her through much.

She handles the supplies for the Homatos and that’s really all I have, I should probly think her through more 😬

This is Raph, originally he was going to be a snapping turtle but I decided he’s actually going to be biologically related to his brothers with the turtle DNA. I haven’t thought too much about him but he does have romantic feelings for Mona Lisa when he meets her but I still need his personality-

Okay so here’s Mikey and he’s the one that I’ve HEAVILY changed—DRASTICALLY, if you will. I wasn’t even really in the right mindset to design him here so I am not at all proud of this design 😬

Yeah so he’s technically not the youngest I guess and also the drawing I did here was horrendous so uhhhhh let’s ignore this and we’ll have better content on him later.

Here’s Kassandra Karai Jones, I had SO MUCH fun designing her. She’s a super badass lesbian Foot clan royalty soldier. Also she’s Casey’s twin hehehehe I love that so much. I can’t wait to write her arcs and stuff but I’ll have you know right now that the girl is a DISASTER around attractive women.

This is Donnie!!!! He’s DEFINITELY up there with the Jones twins as one of the most fun characters to design, he’s so awesome I love drawing himmmm eeeeeeeeeeek!!!!

Okay so I made a mistake saying he has dual Bo-staffs, I just liked the way it looked with his design, but that’s incredibly impractical so that’s one of the first things I changed.

He’s the one character that I have his WHOLE personality fleshed out because I loved designing so much and he’s either a silly gay or a silly bisexual. I can’t tell you everything about him right now bc he’s still in the making and I wanna leave some room for content but he’s so much fun to draw and write!!!!

This is Jennikka! Did I mention she’s in here? Hehehehehehhehehehehhe well now I did. i am not getting involved into the making of the turtles because I spent DAYS working on that but I love it so much but ANYWAYS she’s here and she’s sapphic.

This is Venus!!! She’s so cuuteee eeeeeeek I love her she’s aroace and she’s also here. She has a deep connection with spritual energy and stuff much like Mikey from Rottmnt or I think the 2003 Venus as well? I haven’t gotten that far in the 2k3 show yet so I don’t know much abt her but I heard she has strong mystic connections or smth. I absolutely love her design and I hope you do too.

LEEOOOOOO!!!! I really have to show you guys the concept doodles of him sometime cause I love it so much.

I don’t have too much on him atm cause I finally got his design down like 4 days ago or smth like that, but I’ve decided he can’t stand up straight for the life of him and Donnie always yells at him for it. He’s a bit like Rise Leo I guess but just more smooth and more serious on his training like every other Leo. I had him down as a tattle-tale at firs but then I decided nah. Oh also he’s the medic

——

Oh and I don’t think I mentioned but Donnie starts out as the leader cause he’s the oldest but eventually the title just moves liquidly through them until it lands on Leo. I had a little headcannon that I’ll never write down on paper but I keep up here that they be wingmen for each other when someone’s tryna impress a love interest they “hold” the leader title. See: Raph gets to be leader when they meet Mona Lisa.

——

I have a few other designs down but not on info sheets, just on doodle pages and I’m not ready to reveal how much time I waste on this lmfao.

I have Splinter, Mona, most other Mutants and almost Draxum’s concept designs on paper. I’ll post info on the creation some other time but maybe not. Maybe I’ll keep it to myself.

All I’ll say abt it for now is that the turtle’s creations were all at the fault of Splinter being an absolute disaster of a bisexual.

(I do accept asks on this iteration and I really do wanna answer questions abt it pls ask me questions)

Omg it’s 12:30 in the morning I needa sleep 💀

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warriorssurvivalandstuff · 2 years ago

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My Omori catify nonsense.

Aubrey, Basil, Mari Hero, Sunny, Kel

Aubrey: Black amber tortie Basil: Fawn calico Mari: Black smoke Hero: Chocolate golden marbled tabby Sunny: Black with low white Kel: Red classic tabby, minimal white

Design notes (extremely long, image heavy, and fancy cat patterns heavy) and concepts under cut.

Aubrey is based off non-agouti (genetically solid) black amber, made tortoiseshell. Amber is a trait in the Norwegian Forest breed which causes most of the cat to change colour from black/browns to a red/orangish colour starting at around three months old. Using this to drastically change her look somewhat suitably for the timeskip, because just using hair dye is boring. As for why tortoiseshell, she gets associated with fire a lot and for "scars/wounds", which the red splotches are styled to resemble, meant to give her a tough look. There might be something in how they're less distinct post-colour change. The red end of her tail vaguely resembles Basil's. Stripes on the tail curve towards the tip like flames. For non-colour features, she has spiky lines and ear tufts. The tufts are red for the fire look. Maybe I should've just gone with orange eyes instead of yellow but I wanted to them all to have different colours, and Kel had to get orange. Yellow works fine enough for fire and is the cartoon star colour, starry eyed in (more) youth.

Onto Basil, he's a fawn calico, fawn, cream, and white. Cream is an obvious choice to match his blond hair, while the fawn is meant to resemble dead moss as a mirror to his headspace design, and I did just basically copy his hair over directly. Not too pleased with it. Dewclaws and the bottom of his paws are also free of white for green thumbs/muddy look. The fawn end of his tail vaguely resembles Aubrey's as said above. Also fun fact, tortoiseshell/calico cats cannot be AMAB without some sort of mutation or chimerism. While I did not mistake him for a girl, a ton of people did so I thought I'd carry it over here. Broken mackerel stripes for the tendrils his Something has, and his tail stripes slant towards the tip like leaf venation. The high degree of white was mostly to not have mottling (look, I try to go for as much realism as I can), it was just about the generic bicolour pattern until I thought to spike up the flank region as Something's teeth and to stick a daisy above his left eye. His fur is arranged to look like a perpetually soaked creature, and his ear tufts also droop. Some fur on his back curls like dicot sprouts and his weird hair tufts.

Kel gets two designs as well, not because of some colour change shenanigans, but my indecision. One is chocolate tortoiseshell classic tabby and the other forgoes the chocolate, being just red classic tabby. The mix of brown and orange evokes orange joe, more brown above since it looks like espresso floats on orange juice and like a tan, and I did mistake him for a girl at first. But I wanted to have Aubrey and Basil match in being the only torties, as a sibling theme (headcanon). Classic tabby for the signature bullseye pattern, ballin'. Being tortoiseshell also allows me to draw actual basketballs on him, even if I only did it for the flank one. Honestly the rest of the tortie mottling is just random, not planning on replicating them accurately ever. He has very small amounts of white, the toes and locket. It's meant to reflect his jersey and sneakers' white patterns. His line style/fur tufts are round like his hair.

As for Hero, he is a chocolate golden marbled tabby. Golden because he's the golden child. If Kel is tortoiseshell, they match by being chocolate. Marbled tabby allows me to crudely draw roses with nigh 0 reproducibility plus rosettes, instead of just rosetted tabby. The roses are on his flank and one upright on his foreleg. It is also classic tabby with the Bengal modifier, so he and Kel match here, tortie or not. His fur tufts come in threes, like his hair. Crimson chin when stylised.

Sunny is very basic for his colours, just a solid black with (unusual) white spotting. Mewo dictated he and Mari be black cats. His white is placed more deliberately, a cloud on the head, collar and socks that reflect his clothing, and the rest completes the tuxedo look. The fact that his muzzle and collar line up to look like Something was unplanned but welcome. His eyes are sun coloured. Based his build off of Oriental Shorthairs for the scrawniness. The end of his tail splits into two tufts to reflect his weird hair tufts.

Last but not least, Mari who is a black smoke. Like Sunny, she is solid black. It's got the ghostly quality and when tabby stripes are visible on smokes, they're called ghost markings. She has those on her face, very unsubtly music staff with two semiquaver notes. The gene that causes smoke in solid cats turns tabbies into silver tabbies, so she is in a way, silver, matching Hero's golden. Her fur style is smoke/vapour, the ghostly quality again. She also has the Oriental headshape to match Sunny. I considered having her be silver shaded instead for the white dress spirit Mari is pictured in but that would make her and Sunny look very different. Included as an alt, anyway.

All of them together. The base here (and above) is by Reevees on DA.

Old concepting headshots, dates a few years back. They have the different versions of Kel and Aubrey. Sunny and Mari are kept just about the same, while the others have more notable changes.

Headspace full designs will come in some time... three years? Dunno. Hero's palette will change completely.

Old line styling test, only Aubrey, Basil, and Sunny. Older and young.

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director-sherlock · 4 months ago

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[pt 3] AND NOW FOR THE ART A ton of the early Metheus art was made before I got a better handle at using bases as sketches and yes are pretty anatomically similar, which I mega apologize for T^T BUT WE MARCH ON

First start, where i made personal emote stickers that I could use when I needed to, this was the first one I made

There are the follow up ones, yes i borrowed the genshin stickers as a base, these really weren't intended as anything more than content for completely personal use. I include all of this, though to still show the character and the art I make for them, regardless of intent.

Most recent drawing, mostly a joke of how different he and TimeDefenders!Metheus really were, only sharing a name in common and nothing else, and how they would NOT get along. At All.

An animation test, as I am not an animator, and just wanted to do the silly OC trend that I saw a while back of it. For the life of me, I can't remember what it was called, or what the origin was, I just remember i thought it was neat, and did it for my OC [never posted it though cause i was quite scared to] [still am, just facing fears now]

Another thing I made just to be silly, not intended to see the light of day, but i'm posting here now cause I care about my characters and this helps to categorize somewhere.

This was a collage of the art I made before I got a computer, done either on iBis Paint, or pen and paper. They were rough, the style was yet to be found, and they all showed how difficult it was for me to make something without a base [the only two not made with bases were the one on paper and the oil painting like one.] They were also made to screw around, and weren't anything serious. These earlier pieces [actually almost all of them] were also created when I used to have the name Sea Salt before I changed it, and before I created a proper watermark [i'm sure it'll come back to bite me in the ass TvT]

I am only now being haunted by the understanding of how amateur everything here looks, I promise there's some improvement

some varied and various ways in how i used to draw him in a freehand, he also served as an art style practice on more than one occasion. He also has the most variation Everything wise, as he was a starting point in diversifying my art from the 2010s' style that had a death grip on my art progression and almost killed it. Managed to make older and more diverse character faces, and slowly got more used to that being my general 'normalcy' now, but Metheus was often my testing ground.

Dear God i'm worse at art than i thought i can see all the mistakes i still make whhhyyyyy We continue on, cause there's about to be another post dedicated to fun facts about him.

[This isn't all of the artwork I made for and with this character, just the stuff I felt comfortable posting, some looked wayyyy too rough artistically speaking for me to want to post that]

First Round: Prometheus Soloveitchik

The first one I start with and the one with somewhat the most about him. He's got it all, a weird progression into OC status, a stolen name from an [I presume] Extremely obscure mobile game character, and one of the first OCs I spent the most of 2024 writing and to this day reworking slowly until now, where I was happier with how he is. And there's a Lot to cover. Like, he was the only one to get his lore written down, and it ended up in 5 pages of a story. This might just end up as a chain of posts, actually. For archival purposes and whatnot. So, let's just start there. First tidbit, and first in this timeline of creation: He used to not be a character at all, but rather a plot device in a roleplay. There was a character from an older mobile game I had stolen the look and name of, mostly staying as like a cliff note of a guy [this was purely done cause it was not a public roleplay and was entirely made between friends, and i was a bit lazy at the time and didn't want to craft a brand new character just for a one off event.] His tablet was more plot relevant at the time than Him. [That character was Metheus from Time Defenders, and he inherited the name] So, he used to look exactly like that Metheus from that game, like a body snatch type situation early on in that roleplay [pictured here:]

He then, further on, got more plot relevance in said roleplay, and so I changed and created his new, more recent design to actually make him a character and Not just a guy stolen from somewhere else. [pictured: my art and first concept:]

This wasn't the *first* thing I drew for this newer look, but it was the best "reference" I had that didn't show much [Current Metheus is a character that has a genuine and honest-to-god Hatred for most shirts and refuses to wear anything other than a beat up tank top that's pure cotton, and that's reflected in most of his art.] Now as for the character himself? His whole thing has to be in it's own text post cause I may have hit t he character limit HARD [there's 5 pages to that damn backstory and it is quite hard to condense]

But moving on, The art will be in it's own separate image post soon as well. [pt 1]

#ocs #my ocs #oc stuff #oc art #oc artwork #original character #drawing #digital art #amateur hour

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poguestvff · 3 years ago

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LIKE A BIG SISTER SHOULD — WHEEZIE CAMERON

in which wheezie cameron finds that blood doesn’t make you family, love and affection does.

taglist | masterlist | 2.5k words | @pogueslandia ,

warning(s): food, she/her pronouns, ward slander, a little sarah slander but that’d include reading between the lines. why’d this make me want to make a series of reader and Wheezie being best friends.

There's always been a heavy feeling of loneliness that rested upon the youngest cameron's shoulders, weighing her down as it seemed to pile over the years. Her siblings were always older, an age gap between them that even if it was shortened by a few years, their worlds would still be two different things. All three of them were in three different stages of life yet somehow it felt like Wheezie wasn't even there at times.

Throughout the entirety of her schooling career so far, everything had somehow been about Rafe and Sarah. Sarah was the perfect one; the paragon who could do no wrong. Even if Sarah tried to disobey, it'd be turned around to be made out as a minute mistake. She'd probably be able to get away with it a second time if she did it a different way. Maybe the same way.

Rafe was quite the opposite. The bastard child who needed a plentiful amount of attention in hopes he can be more like the paragon. With all this attention, his head only grew. It never gave him the space for growth. It minimized the space to stay exactly where he was for years on end.

This left Wheezie to be the ostracized sibling. She wasn't a social butterfly or a poster child like Sarah and she definitely wasn't a loner or the 'damaged goods' child like Rafe. She was just... average. With average grades and an average personality. Just average old Wheezie. She told herself this consistently, watching her father balance his attention between making sure Rafe stayed between the lines he'd drawn for him in a radius such as a dart board and allowing Sarah step out of them, even erasing some of the lines so she could walk on by them without a second thought.

But Wheezie was stuck in that tiny little circle in the middle, the bullseye as if scared to move out of those lines. The one place that was the hardest to pinpoint specifically by her father. But there was one thing Ward Cameron always said correct about his younger daughter. That he wouldn't be able to pin point his little dart of control into the middle of the board because she was misunderstood and misunderstood she was.

Though one person had been able to pick up on every single one of Wheezie's emotions.

Y/n Y/L/N was a pogue who had done tutoring on the side for a little extra money and when John B had recommended Y/n for help with Wheezie's homework, Ward was quick to say okay. He hardly even asked a thing about Y/n, just telling her to help Wheezie pass eighth grade and that was all. It was made very apparent to Y/n that was Wheezie was not as much of a priority to Ward as other things were.

Their first tutoring session, Wheezie was awfully dismissive. She didn't care for any of Y/n's efforts as they sat within the comfort of Wheezie's bedroom. She just wanted the entire hour to be over with the second she'd entered her room but Y/n was insistent, knowing that by the end of the school year she would have something instilled in Wheezie's brain. She just didn't know what that something was yet.

The second time they met, Y/n was more passive aggressive in hopes of breaking down the brick walls Wheezie had stored between her and everyone else in hopes of not disappointing them like the way she thought she'd disappointed her father. Y/n sat her down in her desk chair, swiveling her chair to her as she rested her hands on the younger girls shoulders. "You are going to have a really awkward couple of weeks if you and i don't become friends so no work today. We're playing 20 questions."

That night, Y/n learned a lot about Wheezie Cameron that she never thought she'd learned. Wheezie hated the color purple, she just painted her room that color because Sarah liked that color. Wheezie loved to paint and to draw, it was her favorite activity, she just rarely showed it bevause she hadn't believed in herself. Though, when she showed Y/n the canvas' that were shoved at the back of the closet, Y/n marveled at them. But Y/n's favorite fact, and the same one that almost made her hug Wheezie on the spot, was that she was never taught to swim and Y/n made her a promise that she would teach her.

As the weeks went by, Wheezie waiting anticipatingly for Y/n's beaten down, green ford bronco to pull up on the driveway and she'd leave the house with a giant smile on her face. It’d be early in the morning, a little less than an hour until school started, just like how Wheezie liked. She'd jump in the driver seat, embracing the smell of vanilla from the scented item hanging from the rear view mirror. She’d toss her bag to the back as Y/n would ruffle her hair, just like she had every morning. "And beloved was set in... late 1856!" Wheezie answered excitedly as Y/n drove down the final street towards her school after the two had gotten breakfast together.

"Perfect! You're gonna do so good on your test, Wheeze, I promise." Y/n told her ecstatically as she pulled into a parking space. Just before Wheezie could get out, Y/n held her upper arm just to gain her attention before she got out. "Tell Rose she doesn't have to get you after school. I'll leave school early and you and I are having a girls day. No studying, just me, you and a shit ton of sweets."

Wheezie smiled, she could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to hurt from how wide she had. She tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, eyeing the look of excitement on Y/n's face. "But why?"

Y/n shrugged, adjusting in her seat and fixing her rear view mirror. "Cause, you deserve it. I'm so proud of you, Little W." She told her, looking back towards the girl and seeing her smile slightly drop. "You okay?"

Wheezie couldn't remember a time where she was genuinely told that. Yeah, sure, Ward said it a few times but it'd be in a lousy tone before he'd wave her off, saying he was busy with whatever office work he had to attend to. Sarah may have said it a few times but it was rushed before she'd run after her friends with a quick goodbye to Wheeze, leaving her alone in the sand. It was never sincere. Not in the way Y/n had said it.

She rubbed her hands against her jean clad thighs with a sharp breath before nodding. “Yeah. I've just never really been told that before. Like—Like genuinely." She said, lowly, in hopes Y/n would understand and wouldn't push it.

Y/n had known Wheezie long enough to know her tells and avoiding eye contact was one of the biggest ones. So she didn't indulge further in the conversation, brushing it under the rug but knowing she'd have to go diving back in for that little tidbit later on. Instead she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from over the console. "I'll tell you i'm proud of you everyday if i have to." Y/n muttered before kissing the top of her head. "Now go, if you're late to first period, your dad will kill me." And Wheezie was able to leave the car with a smile on her face, already looking forward to the day planned later on.

Y/n was overall consistent, it was one thing Wheezie enjoyed knowing that when she made promises she tried to keep them as best as she could. Sometimes things slipped her mind but Wheezie could recognize that Y/n didn't forget a thing when it came to Wheezie. Like she made sure to engrave bits and pieces of her into her mind like a data chart. But it showed she cared and that was enough for Wheezie.

Y/n cared enough that when she entered her car after school, the smell of her favorite cinnabon's filled the car that made her look in the backseat, seeing a picnic basket. There wasn't a chance, right? You could only get them on the mainland. She turned her body swiftly towards the elder girl who sat with a smirk on her face. "You didn't?"

"I did. Second I left fourth period, got on a ferry just for you to have those overly sweet treats." Y/n said, tapping her nose with a 'boop'! "And I almost got stuck on the mainland because of it so you better enjoy the hell out of them."

"I will, I promise." Wheezie said dramatically as Y/n smiled, pulling out of the parking space to head down to the beach. Wheezie had said she didn't have a bathing suit, not prepared for the outing, though Y/n already said she had ransacked her room for clothes for after. Y/n was the only person allowed in Wheezie Cameron's room without Wheezie being there and the elder girl took pride in it.

As Y/n set up their small area for the few hours, she noticed Wheezie standing just where the water and the sand met. She kicked around the water with clear disinterest causing Y/n to huff, hands on her hips, before tossing off her hoodie to get in. The splash she'd made by pushing herself into the water made Wheezie jump, a laugh falling from the two's lips. "Come on." Y/n said, standing and holding her hands out to Wheezie.

"Y/n/n, I can't swim."

"Y/n/n I can't swim, well, obvi, i know that, little W. But, you have your amazing best friend to keep you afloat. I won't let you go, i swear." Y/n said, holding up her pinky.

"Swear?"

"On my life." She reassured with a trusting smile before Wheezie walked further in. When the water had gotten to her above her waist, it'd freaked her out a bit though Y/n talked her through it, coaxing her further in slowly. Wheezie was kept above the water as Y/n held her hands as the buoyancy was used to their advantage. "See, not as bad as you thought?"

Wheezie shook her head though still nervous. "Not as bad, not my thing though."

"Why don't we try actually swimming? I won't force you if you don't want to and we can get back to shore right now but maybe just try?" She asked as Wheezie had to think about it for a moment. She almost felt guilty, remembing just a few months ago when Sarah had asked her if she could teach her but she refused. Though maybe, just maybe, it was because of Y/n being a bit more trust worthy that Wheezie said yes this time.

It took a while, Wheezie was frightened by letting go even as Y/n would say she was okay. Wheezie would tighten her grip on her shoulders before trying again and again until she eventually got it. She finally was able to keep herself above the water without flailing, recognizing that she was okay. Y/n cheered as she watched, not caring for the stares of others around them. "See, dude? You just have to start applying yourself! You did it!"

"I did it!" Wheezie said as Y/n hugged her, the two laughing before Wheezie screamed making Y/n's laughter die fast. "Something touched me!"

"Wheeze, it was seaweed." Y/n said softly before turning and letting her place her hands on her shoulders. "Yeah let's get you out of here before a jellyfish gets you."

Wheezie widened her eyes. "Jellyfish?"

As the sun had began to set and people had packed up their things and left, Y/n and Wheezie stayed. Wheezie was on her fourth doughy treat, even though Y/n told her to slow down two treats ago. Towels were wrapped around each of their shoulders as they watched the pretty colors fade in to one another, a mixture of pink, blue and orange array of colors combining to make a cotton candy sky. Wheezie watched as Y/n got up, accepting a phone call from Ward, the only phone call she hadn't silenced since they'd left the car.

In the time she'd left, Wheezie took advantage of it to recognize how appreciative she was of all that Y/n was doing for her. She came in as a tutor and, to Wheezie, was to stay as a friend. As family. Wheezie was more then ecstatic to have someone who would be there to rant and rave about the other Cameron's, someone she could trust with her secrets and the contents of her always running brain. Someone who was just there.

"Hey, your father would like us back in thirty so we should leave in ten." She said coming back and sitting beside Wheezie as she caught sight of her face, the lack of the smile that was there previously concerning her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, really. Just... I really enjoyed today, Y/n. It really lets me know you're not just here for like... like the money or something."

Y/n let out a scoff. "Are you kidding? I enjoy nothing more than watching you freak out over the existence of jellyfish." She joked as Wheezie pushed her to the side with a laugh. Y/n recovered, letting out a content sigh as she tossed an arm over Wheezie's shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Wheezes. Can't wait to record you falling at your next soccer game."

Wheezie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips, leaning into Y/n's embrace as her head rested against her clavicle. "And I'll be looking for you in the stands, Y/n/n."

Y/n and Wheezie had both found out something about the other that night. Wheezie found that she didn't want to be like Sarah and she was glad she wasn't like Rafe. She was content with her own little circle on the dart board but maybe she could take a bit after her newest role model. And Y/n found that she was able to instill several things into the youngers mind including To Kill a Mockingbird, Inca Civilizations, and that she now had a true and present big sister to look up to.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #wheezie cameron #wheezie cameron x reader #rafe cameron #sarah cameron

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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Surprises

Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader

Summary: Typically you spend every birthday alone with your mom, so a big party with all the avengers is definitely a surprise.

Warnings: mostly fluff, some happy tears, adoption

Word count: 1389

a/n: Another really cute request!! Thanks for sending it in! @maximeevansblog

Masterlist

"Happy birthday peanut!" Your mom woke you up with breakfast in bed, a birthday tradition for the two of you. No matter what was going on in the realm of the avengers, she always made sure to eat breakfast with you on your birthday.

"Thanks mom." You smile through a yawn, rubbing your face to wake yourself up more.

"What do you want to do today?" You weren't surprised by the question. You always get to choose what the two of you do on your birthday, but your hoping to add someone knew to the mix.

"I just want to stick to the usual stuff, hair salon, manicures! Maybe Bucky could come with us for lunch though..."

Natasha couldn't help but smile, truly happy at the idea of you wanting Bucky in your life.

Even before Nat and Bucky started dating, he took on a fatherly role in your life. For some reason, you clicked with him better than any of the other male avengers.

"Oh, I'm sure he would love to, but he's got some paperwork he has to get done today." She hated lying to you, but she wasn't going to blow the surprise now.

"Ugh, he always leaves it to the last minute! You need to talk to that man about time management." You huffed, stuffing more food into your mouth. "We can still eat dinner with him though, right?"

"Of course. He wouldn't miss your birthday dinner! Now hurry up and get dressed, we've got tons to do!"

You laughed at her antics, quickly getting up to change out of your pajamas. You would never tell anyone this, but you're convinced your mom likes your birthday more than you. It's the only day a year she truly lets herself get pampered, slipping away from her cunning assassin persona to celebrate with you.

After changing, you met your mom in the kitchen. Weirdly enough, you didn't run into anyone else in the compound before you left.

The first stop was the hair salon. You were finally going to dye your hair red. You settled on a reddish purple, drawing inspiration from your mom's red hair, but adding a twist just for you.

You sat and joked with your mom for the entire two hours it took for the hair dying process.

That was another of your favorite things about your birthday. Barring any world saving missions, the two of you would goof off like a normal family.

After your hair was done, you got lunch and went for manicures. You didn't want the color to clash with your hair, so you went with a classic matte black look.

You were so lost in the fun and laughter, you didn't notice Nat constantly checking her phone.

"Why don't we go shopping? You can pick out a fancy dress, 16 is a big birthday after all!"

"Are you sure? Where would I even wear a dress like that?" Your mom hated dress shopping at the mall. Usually she would have dresses brought to the compound, or well- Tony would for her.

"Definitely! We can just get dressed up for fun, have a fancy dinner with Bucky?" She posed the question as if the idea just popped into her head, relying on her spy training to convince you.

"That sounds so fun! Let's go!" You were too excited to be suspicious of her motives, so off you went.

After a few hours trying on dresses, you found the perfect one. It was dark gray and super sparkly. It fit you just right, the color perfectly complimenting your freshly dyed hair. You stepped out of the dressing room, eager to see your mom's reaction.

"Oh, honey. You're beautiful. That's got to be the one."

"My thoughts exactly!" You smiled, twirling around in your fancy dress.

Unsurprisingly, your mom looked incredible in every dress she tried on. She settled on a dark green satin gown, drawing attention to her bright red hair.

Taking the glamourous day to the extreme, the two of you walked out of the store still clad in the gowns. It made for quite the runway experience on the way back to the car.

You fell asleep on the ride home, tired from a full day of shopping.

Nat woke you up when she parked the car, gently shaking your shoulder,

"C'mon peanut, Bucky's got dinner ready." Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food, jolting you from your slumber.

"Did you tell him to dress up? I don't want him to be left out." You yawned, leaning into your mom in the elevator.

"Yeah, he's dressed up." Her tone lead you to believe she knew something you didn't, but you didn't have much time to question it.

"Surprise!"

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a massive amount of party decorations. The avengers stood around the room, all dressed to the nines, huge smiles on their faces.

You eagerly ran around the room, hugging everyone you could see. "Thank you all so much!"

You celebrated your birthday in style, eating your favorite finger foods in extravagant evening gowns. Everyone played games, sang happy birthday, and ate cake.

"Time for presents!" Tony announced to the room, never one to shy away from giving gifts. The man had money, and boy did he like to spend it.

Everyone sat down, waiting for you to start opening presents.

Steve gave you art supplies and a promise to finally teach you how to paint, something you'd been begging him for since you were 7.

Clint gave you a new bow, something you'd been bugging him about since he broke yours.

Tony bought you a car, something that genuinely caused you to scream.

Wanda and Sam gave you bath bombs and candles, two of your favorite things.

You constantly thanked everyone for the presents, feeling truly loved by the group of crime fighters.

The last present you had to open was from Bucky. He handed you a card, a nervous expression on his face. You gratefully accepted the envelope, hugging and thanking him before you even opened it.

The room went quiet as you tore open the envelope, a weird mood encompassing the group.

Again, you felt like they knew something you didn't, but you brushed it off, not wanting to seem ungrateful for Bucky's gift.

You pulled an official looking paper from the envelope, confusion apparent on your face as you began to read the heading out loud.

"At a term of the Family Court of New York, held in and for the County of Hamilton, in the matter of the adoption of Y/N Romanoff..." You trailed off, eyes filling with tears as you read the rest of the paper.

"Bucky, you... you adopted me?" Your voice was barely audible.

"Surprise?" He stuttered out the word, unsure what your reaction meant. Everyone thought you would be ecstatic at the news, maybe even scream louder than you did for the car.

"You adopted me." You whispered again, a mixture of disbelief and finality in your words. Tears were freely falling from your eyes, blurring your view of the room.

"Don't cry! I- I didn't mean to make you cry!" He was frantically looking around the room, terrified that he made a huge mistake. He loves you like you're his own, but maybe you didn't see him like a dad.

"I'm sorry! I'll fix it! I'll figure out how to undo it. I didn't want-"

"No!" Your voice startled the whole room. You smiled at the familiarity of nervous Bucky. He was like that when we first wanted to ask your mom out, unsure of how you would feel about it. "No, no, no. They're happy tears. I promise!" You sniffled, reaching out for him.

He instantly pulled you into a massive bear hug, the relief pouring out of him in waves. Everyone but Natasha quietly left the room, giving your little family a moment of privacy.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I just wanted you to know that I'll always be there for you and Nat. The two of you are my family." Bucky's voice wavered, full of emotion after the days event. Even Nat had tears in her eyes when she joined the hug.

You smiled up at him, tears still blurring your vision.

"I love you too, dad."

#natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x bucky barnes #avengers x reader #marvel fic #request #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes

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sarahjkl82-blog · 4 years ago

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Artistic Instinct Chapter 10

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, grief, loss and some second base action.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who reads, re-reads, points out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

May the flowers remind us why the rain was so necessary - Xan Oku

Chapter 10

Your eyes fly open - heart pounding, mouth dry- as the nighttime movie that played behind your eyelids finishes abruptly. Hugging your arms around yourself, you try to steady the impact of that injection of adrenaline into your veins, drawing deep breaths into your lungs as you gaze into the oil slick of darkness surrounding you. The sounds of day are yet to kick into being as your phone screen illuminates 03:02 - the trains not yet pulling out of their sidings, sirens still silenced for the most part. The night air is just punctuated by the rhythmic pitter patter of rain upon the roof and the sweetest little snores still rising steadily from your…

Your boss.

For fucks sake.

Once could be called a mistake, even if it was a twelve year long one. But back doing this shit again? Sheer fucking stupidity. Your head drops into your hands as a stab of pain cuts through your gut. What the fuck do you do now? Marcus so honestly put his heart on a platter for you last night- could you be the cold hearted, callous bitch that throws it back in his face? All of your body fizzes with fear - your muscles twitching with the cortisol so rather than irritate him with your fidgeting, you slide out of his bed.

Bare soles on the night-cooled wooden floors help to ground your flighty soul as you walk around the unfamiliar apartment. Whilst the exterior dampness can only come as far as pretty patterns on the window pane, the chill causes tiny pinprick goosebumps to stand proud against your skin. You finally settle cross-legged on the floor by the French doors leading out to the balcony, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass - mentally cheering on your favourites as they glide towards the inky pools gathering beneath them.

With your mind so lost in your new-found sport, you aren’t entirely aware of the arrival of a warm, breathing blanket that curls itself around your body languidly before you are tightly encircled by long limbs and gentle nuzzling into the side of your neck, “What’s up, honey?”

A small, precious kiss is pressed into your temple before the sleep-thick murmur continues in your ear, “Thought you’d left. So happy to find you here.”

Leaning back into his broad chest, you allow the expanse of his form that is wrapped around you to consume your body whole, “Bad dream. Couldn’t get back to sleep and didn’t want to wake you.”

“‘M sorry,” Marcus slides you slightly to his left so he can search your face for the answers that you are so incredibly reluctant to give, “Your heart is racing - do you want to talk or just have things that will make you feel better?”

Initially, you don’t feel able to catch his gaze, having thought about breaking his heart only minutes prior to his soothing arrival but when you do, everything hits you like a ton of bricks. The deep pillow creases of his cheek, sweetly mussed up hair and the earthy hues of his questioning eyes make your fist fly to cover your eyes as your tears echo the deluge of rain.

He doesn’t speak. Just holds you close. Cradling you in his arms as your body shakes into his. Marcus allows you to sit with your pain awhile - not pressuring you to speak or offering any empty platitudes to solve it- allowing the hurricane of grief to rip through you, all the while tethering you to the ground.

As the tears exhaust themselves, Marcus leaves and your eyes dance in panic at the loss of his soothing touch. The relief of hearing his kettle start to boil and then the gentle roar of taps filling a tub, stretch a ghostly pair of arms back around you, soothing the ache beneath your ribs. A hand reaches down to you offering a way out - gently hoisting you back onto your feet.

“C’mere sweetheart,” Marcus pulls you back into his chest, pressing a line of kisses along your hairline, “I’ve made you a cup of camomile tea and run you a bath.”

He makes to leave you but your haunted eyes and tight grip upon his wrist beg him to stay, “Honey, I don’t want to overstep the mark here. I’m sorry that I asked you to stay. Overwhelming you like this, isn’t fair of me.”

Trying to eloquently respond to him comes out with just a snotty sad gasp so you vehemently shake your head tugging his hand towards the bathroom. Once inside the metro tiled space - pausing between heaving breaths - you manage to squeak out in your juddery voice, “Please stay with me.”

“Please don’t feel guilty - this is just shit I need to work through,” you mumble as you fiddle with the hem of Marcus’ t-shirt, feeling his skin twitch as you accidentally make contact, “I’m sorry that it’s having a knock on effect for you.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he leans in to sweetly kiss your forehead, “I’ll turn around while you get in but I promise not to leave.”

“I don’t care if you see me naked - it’s just a body,” you mutter slightly confused by this sentiment when he’d been stroking your breasts earlier. As you start peeling off the t-shirt you’d borrowed from him, Marcus swings to face the bathroom door quickly.

“No,” the sharpness of Marcus’ response steals the air from your lungs momentarily - you stand in front of him like a rabbit caught in headlights, “I’m sorry, sweetheart - didn’t mean to be so forceful. No - it’s not just a body. It is your body and I wanna enjoy it properly when you’re not so upset. It would be taking advantage.”

Slowly lowering yourself into the delicious expanse of Marcus’ bath, you allow the warmth to soak into your aching bones. The water cocoons and hugs every inch of you as you permit it to unknit every knot of tension within your body.

“You can turn around now.”

A kind smile plays upon the deep creases set by Marcus’ eyes, “Tilt your head back.”

Reaching behind you, he turns on the shower attachment - the water bursting forth in a perfect summer rain across the skin of the bath water. Like a parent with a child, he checks the temperature until it reaches a soothing heat and runs it over your hair, soaking every last strand, washing away the mix of salt from anxious sweat and tears. Dropping the shower head in the bath, he then grabs a generous squirt of shampoo in his hands, lathering it into your scalp, massaging until you feel like a gelatinous blob under his skilful touch.

After rinsing every last bubble and sud from your hair, Marcus then squeezes out some conditioner - the bottle releasing the most indecent sound that has you both giggling like small children. Having coated his digits well, he starts to run his fingers through your hair - combing every strand with his hands, ensuring there isn’t a single knot to be found. A gentle finger beneath your chin tells you to tip your head back again as the shower rinses the excess away.

Settling back on the plush bath mat, Marcus passes you your tea silently and you just sit. Sit there in companionable silence - without an ounce of awkwardness- just both sipping tea as your body gradually accepts its need to sleep again.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Give me two minutes and I’ll be ready,” Marcus gazes softly after your disappearing form as you spin into your bedroom to get dressed for work. It takes every bit of gentlemanly restraint that he possesses not to follow you, run his hands over your silken skin and get a hit of your delicious taste. Instead he re-settles his mind by looking around your flat having finally been allowed a peek inside your inner sanctum.

He doesn’t quite know what he expects to see but it certainly isn’t this. It feels an odd mix in there- piles of cushions and blankets but no photos. No pictures decorating the place yet multiple empty frames propped against walls, waiting for their stories to be told. Your home isn’t really a home at all - it is just a roof over your head with nests for you to curl into exhaustedly.

“Have you been here long?” he asks quizzically, spying the battered moving boxes that have obviously been rummaged through for a missing necessary nick-nack or two but never having been fully unpacked. Marcus runs his hand over the coarse, corrugated cardboard and light spattering of dust coating them, wondering what secrets you wish to keep hidden in there and if you will ever open fully to him, to allow him to lighten your load.

“Almost two years,” he hears you muffledly answer through the jumper you pull over your head as you momentarily reappear in the doorway of your bedroom - a vision of radiantly soft curves- just knickers and a mess of limbs arguing with the item of clothing, before your breasts get hidden under the striped knitwear.

As much as Marcus tries to stop himself, his body takes the required steps forward so that his fingers can be satiated with the warmth of your skin. He doesn’t kiss you yet - the heat of his breath just dusts the shell of your ear as he inhales the scent of his shampoo in your hair.

“Look at you,” he murmurs - shaking his head in disbelief as he grabs your wrists and pulls you into him, “Beautiful.”

Using the back of his hand to release the hair caught in the collar of your jumper, Marcus takes a moment to drink in all your features. The flecks of gold in your eyes, the sharpness of your cheekbones, the streaks of wisdom in your hair - how were you, the beauty that you are, interested in him?

And then you’re kissing him. Your mouth open, soft lips inviting him into your inner sanctum. He feels your fingertips stroking into the nape of his neck, your nails scratching into the hair that twists and curls there. Shivers of pleasure run down Marcus’ spine, making him pull you closer as your touch sparks life across his body. Your gentle push causes Marcus to startle - to stumble backwards, falling back onto the sofa, sending cushions scuttling across the floor.

Feeling his jaw tic as you clamber into a kneeling position above him, Marcus tries to steady his breath by focussing on the small details of you. The darker spots of pigmentation where the sun has permanently kissed your skin. The divots of your collarbones just peeking above your sweater. The small reminder of a childhood misadventure just above your right eyebrow.

Nope. This is not working. God, I want her.

“Lower those goddamn hips,” he growls, “Sit down.”

“I can’t,” he hears you whimper, eyes shut tight, “I’ll make a mess of your trousers.”

Marcus groans as he considers the sweetness that is encased by those bright pink, lace edged panties - still not quite believing that it is him who has had this effect on you. When you grab his hands that have been stroking little circles by your knees and pull them to your ass, the heat in him rises as he squeezes and needles the delicious flesh beneath.

“This is gonna be hard having you work so close,” as soon as he hears the words leave his mouth, he regrets it. The little twitch between your eyebrows. The tremble of your bottom lip. The slight shift back of your weight upon his lap. Marcus catches them all.

“I’m sorry. Nush, I shouldn’t have…”

As your weight rocks back away from him, leaving his body quickly cooling with your absence, the air is punctuated with your muttering of one word over and over. Each utterance a bullet coated in guilt hitting him sharply.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Scrunching his eyes tight shut, he rocks forward, head in hands. Should he come after you? Should he leave? Fuck, Pike.

Hearing the creak of your bedroom door, Marcus lifts his head in your direction - his eyes throwing a million apologies to you, “Nush, I’m so sorry - I didn’t mean to upset you. That’s the last thing that I’d ever want to do.”

He watches as you walk across the floor - smaller shuffling steps rather than your usual confident stomp, your eyes red-rimmed and glassy and your breathing a little jagged - and feels like he’s just crushed a butterfly in his hands when all he was trying to do was appreciate its beauty. Water starts to pool in the corners of his eyes as he blinks hard to warn them off - after all, he didn’t need to give you any other reason to walk away from him. A small grateful smile creeps across his face when you settle between his knees, resting your arms across his lap - your tear-streaked face looking up at him.

“I’m frightened,” he hears you whisper, “Repeating past mistakes is sheer fucking stupidity.”

Marcus freezes, the blood in his veins turning to ice as he awaits your verdict.

“I can’t do that again. You cannot become another Jasper to me. The relationship that never was with all the hiding.”

“I don’t want us to hide,” he hears his voice betraying him as fear courses through his synapses, his hands aching to touch you. Hold you.

Please don’t let me lose her.

Please don’t let this be it.

“Can I touch you?” Marcus quietly, carefully checks before daring to reach out. He watches as a cloud of confusion washes across your face at his request.

“Of course you can. What? Hang on, did you think,” you pause, brow furrowed, “Did you think I want to stop whatever this turns out to be?”

With his shoulders slightly hunched, one hand reaching behind to rub the base of his neck, Marcus nods, “Yeah, a bit. I…”

“I don’t wanna fuck this up, Nush,” he reaches forward to stroke your wrist.

“Me neither, but we will,” your words take a moment to register with him, “We have both experienced so much - good and bad - that we will put our proverbial foot in it with each other.

“But, I hope that in time, with our collective pasts and the streaks of grey in our hair, we may also slowly learn how to communicate and say when things are a bit shit for us and why. Why my instinct is to run screaming from things and why you think everyone you love is going to leave.”

Marcus curls forward so he can rest his forehead against yours before placing a small kiss there, “Now you’re really gonna have to be two minutes if we’re gonna get to work on time. I’m just gonna shut my eyes until you’re dressed so I’m not tempted to make us late.”

“You think that’ll work?”

Chuckling at the wink you throw at him over your shoulder, Marcus starts to allow that tiny ray of hope he’s been burying for years to shine again.

✪✪✪✪✪

As Marcus opens the door for you, an overwhelming wave assaults your senses. Noises from tapping keyboards, phones ringing and computers blaring, the overwhelming scents of fatty, sugary yet discarded breakfasts and coffee hits hard but it’s the tiny, surreptitious stroke at the base of your spine gives you the kick you need to go in and start your day. A steaming coffee is thrust towards Marcus behind you and some case files are handed to you by a smiling Andy, “Morning Sir, morning Nush. What time did you manage to get cleared up?”

“Between the two of us, it didn’t take too long,” you grin at the PA before looking over your shoulder to find Marcus smiling at you, “Think I was asleep by eleven.”

“Snoring away,” Marcus barely audibly whispers, making your eyes widen.

“Ready for the meeting at nine o’clock, Sir? I have everything set up in the conference room, ready to go…” Andy sweeps Marcus away from you as you head over to your desk, spying the hot cup of Java awaiting your arrival.

New piles of paperwork seem to litter your desk, replacing the ones you’d tried so hard to clear on Friday afternoon. Office life. That it is a life is a bit of a lie, as every soul within your office space looks like it is in some stage of decomposition. Kiri appears to be in need of another weekend to get over the two days of rest just gone, Dian is yawning into her coffee and as for Harper, well, there’s a part of you that doesn’t quite believe she’s fully human with the way she’s already ploughing through her work.

When 9am finally rolls around, it feels more like two in the afternoon. Marcus sticks his head out of the door to call everyone into the meeting and is met by several groans from the team as they reluctantly shake themselves from their chairs and drag their Monday fatigued bones towards the conference room. At the oval, walnut table, you sit sandwiched between Dian and Kiri, directly opposite Andy in a hopefully not too obvious ploy to not be too close to Marcus.

“Good morning everyone, I’d ask you if you’d all had a good weekend but I think we spent enough time together to know that we all did,” a chuckle rises from your office mates as Marcus welcomes everyone, “I wanted to have a catch up this morning as the Soutine that Agent Pierce and I checked in Lyon, has come back as a definite fake. The verdict was reached late Friday afternoon and the French authorities are currently trying to trace its origins.

“We also received word this morning that a Modigliani has turned up in Sotheby’s - they have their own art fraud team but hopefully we will get a look in soon. Agent Pierce, I know I haven’t asked you to prep but could you explain to the team what the issues are around his work?”

“Sotheby’s?” you question, staring straight at Marcus and entirely ignoring his request, “I can get in there now as my best mate works in the fraud team.”

“Hephzibah?” Andy catches your eye, “Didn’t realise she’d transferred over from Scotland Yard.”

“More money,” you shrug as Andy presses his lips together and nods in agreement.

“No, Agent Pierce, I’d like us to hang back for now,” Marcus responds, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, “If you could give us some of your insight about Modigliani’s pieces, please?”

Slightly taken aback by Marcus’ firmness, you take a moment before responding, “Modigliani’s back catalogue is a fucking mess as he used to give out sketches like a fortune teller.

“Jean Cocteau said that he was drawn by Modigliani roughly fifty times but he only ever owned one picture. Prices have skyrocketed over the past decade with one going for $170.4 million dollars so he’s very much a member of the $100 million club along with Warhol, Picasso et al but not quite at their ethereal prices.

“One of the main things about Modigliani is that the love of the man is not easily separated from his art. Over the years, he has been painted as somewhat Byronesque in his exploits by salacious biographies and films - very much sex and drugs and rock n roll. A bohemian who lived in Montparnasse and Montmartre at the Fin de Siecle - he was known by all the artists who lived there at the time - Picasso even said he was the only man in Paris who knew how to dress.

“To be honest, whilst he was hot - soulful dark eyes, ebony, wavy hair and a beautiful bone structure with an extraordinary amount of intelligence and eloquence-”

“Ah, so you have a type?” Harper mutters into her notes.

Your cheeks flush and eyes dart around the room, hoping that Marcus didn’t hear that as you desperately try to summon a consummate professional performance for the others, “-It is hugely difficult to separate the man from the myth but the main issue due to his profligacy with his art, unlike the other greats who get over $100 million for their work, Modigliani’s work is often questioned. You could easily find a Modigliani in an attic with a letter attached from the man himself and people would still raise an eyebrow at it.

“So, um, the main thing according to all the auction houses is that unless it is in the catalogue curated by Ceroni, it ain’t a Modigliani. This is problematic in itself as that was published in 1958 and even some of the pieces on his list are questionable. People have ended up in prison over their dubious dealings with Modigliani’s back catalogue as you can see in the case of Parisot.

“So if a piece comes to auction that isn’t on the list, they’re damned if it is a Modigliani, and damned if it isn’t?” Dian questions you.

“Pretty much. And he worked at a time when a lot of advances and changes happened in artist’s products. In the first half of the twentieth century, both the production of paint and paper changed massively as everything was slowly more industrialised and made more stable. By industrialising these things, it made the equipment cheaper quicker as more could use it rather than being made Etsy-style in tiny batches that were way beyond the means of most artists.

“Normally, with older pieces we can look at how the artists use paints and the type of paints they use but with more modern artists everything becomes a bit murkier as it is harder to date. And I will stop there before I piss off Harper by rabbiting on too much more.”

Even Harper has the decency to smirk at your comment before returning to her notes. Marcus’s gaze has softened again as you finish speaking, “ Thanks, Agent Pierce. Perhaps we could hear from you now Agent Gleason and Youngerson?”

Harper raises her eyebrows in Marcus’ direction before starting, “So, Agent Youngerson and I have been looking at various right wing groups currently active across the world and what their links are to the art world. The main ones who have thrown up scents for us to chase are The Old School Society, Hydra and The Order.”

Dian looks up from her pad of extensive notes, “Yeah, we've been tracing money routes with those three and when looking at the main donors to these groups, they’ve all had dealings with art galleries and auction houses recently. So we’re now looking into each donor carefully and may need to do some in the field meetings with them as prospective buyers - so my darling work wife, Nush, we may need notes unless you fancy being our cover girl?” she comically winks at you. Making a little heart with your index finger and thumb, you send an equally cheesy wink and click of the tongue back at her.

Marcus huffs a chuckle out at the two of you before turning his attention to Kiritopa, “How have you been getting on with your catalogue of fakes relating to this case?”

“Yeah, alright - slow going collecting all the data as it seems some auction houses are reluctant to reveal how many fakes pass through their doors,” Kiri frowns before glugging some more coffee.

“It’s understandable, they don’t want their reputations dashed. Doesn’t make our work any easier though. Agent Morrison - if you can show me what you’ve compiled so far that’d be great,” Marcus gives the agent a small, sincere smile before turning to address the room again, “Right, I have a meeting this afternoon that’ll keep me out of the office for the rest of the day so I’ll leave you all to get on. Have a great day everyone.”

✪✪✪✪✪

You:

Hey sexy lady, I hear you’ve got a tasty little number at S’s - can I take a look?

Hephzi:

Off the books? Course you can. Change into civvies and I’ll get you in this afternoon.

You:

You’re a fucking ⭐️. I’ll make it worth your while

Hephzi:

Do you mean cake and coffee? Because if you do, I’m fucking yours.

You:

Urm obviously! See you around two?

A small knock on your desk makes you put down your phone and you look up into Marcus’ face, “Hey, you got a minute?”

“Yes, Sir,” as you push your chair away from your desk, you throw your mobile in your desk drawer and follow him into his office.

His desk is immaculately tidy and warm to the touch with its honey and caramel tones washing back and forth in undulating waves as if across a beach. There’s not a hint of Marcus in his office yet - no personal treasures - it stands in stark contrast to the warmth of the man you’re getting to know.

“I just wanted to check you were ok. I heard what Harper said,” he reaches out to straighten the ribbing at the bottom of your jumper, his thumb stroking your tummy lightly.

“She’s not wrong,” you grin lopsidedly at him as you step in closer, placing your hands on either side of his face, “Dark soulful eyes, beautifully high cheekbones, delightfully luscious lips that are perfect for kissing - hard not to fancy Modigliani, really.”

“You’re mean,” Marcus squeezes your hip as he shakes his head, “When would you like to speak to the others? I think being up front with them will help us in the long run.”

You sit on the edge of his desk, leaning back slightly, your face illuminated by your smile, “Maybe we can have our first date and then think about the long run?”

When you see the flinch from Marcus, a pang of guilt echoes through your gut as you recall your earlier conversation, “I think you’re right- once we’re truly confident we know where this is headed, we should speak up. I am not going to lose my job or risk my reputation for you… but I also already know that I don’t want to lose you either.”

“Me neither,” his hand reaches out for you, fingers entangling, thumbs stroking - eyes crinkling as they meet yours, “What are you doing for lunch?”

“Well, I was a bit distracted when I got dressed this morning - there was this really hot guy in my flat…”

“Uh huh, tell me about him,” Marcus slowly drawls, looking down at you amusedly.

“Oh you don’t want to know, Sir. Wouldn’t let me get dressed. Just kept groping me.”

“How... inappropriate of him.”

“Yeah - so I was almost late to work because of him wanting his wicked way with me and accidentally ended up putting on two different shoes.” Marcus steps away from you and having looked down, notices the one extremely dark navy and one black ballet pump with a gently shaking chest as he tries to swallow his chuckle.

“Going home to change? Your mind really must have been elsewhere,” you nod at him -slightly embarrassed by your initial genuine mistake that has now become a cover story. His gaze intensifies as he cups your face, his eyes focussing on your lips, “I’m sorry honey, I don’t think I’ll have time to drop you there and back before my meeting - will you be ok?”

“Of course, Marcus - I’ve worked here for years,” you tease him, feeling awkward as fuck when the half truth you are spinning for your boss feels awkward and bitter in your mouth.

But his kiss doesn’t. Marcus quickly closes the gap between the two of you, leaning towards you - his head tilted, lips soft and welcoming with their desire for you utterly apparent. Deepening the kiss, his mouth gently opening, tongue searching as his hands drop from your face to your waist, you find yourself forgetting to worry that anyone could walk in. Forgetting the regret of lying to him. What had you even been talking about? Should you be doing this? Fuck it. You pull him the final distance so that no air could pass between you - just you and Marcus refusing to pause for breath until your lungs run out of air.

Pulling back to gaze at him with lust blown pupils, wanting him so much more, you eventually find the energy to push away from him. Swiping at your lips with your thumb in case anyone spots the remnants of this moment as you walk towards the door on brand new baby deer legs.

“Hey Nush,” you swing back to look at Marcus, still standing, equally dumbstruck as you, before he winks with a cheeky grin, “Nice shoes.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Gripping the cardboard carrier that holds two steaming cups of black coffee in your left hand, you ring the bell to the magnificent Bloomsbury building that has sold multiple pieces of multi-million pound art. The Georgian façade is impressive in its structure and beautifully kept without a sign of peeling paint, decrying its almost 250 year history - a far cry from the shatterproof glass and steel at HQ. Hephzi opens the door to you with a wide grin upon her face, “Bang on time, missus - I swear the only way to get you places quickly, is with the promise of fine art to get you salivating!”

You can’t really respond eloquently to her as you are absorbed into the cool of the elegant building. Whilst kept modern and minimalistic, the space has retained some of its more charming period features - the cornicing and ceiling roses are still firmly in place despite the stark white of the walls. Oh, the pieces that have passed through this space! The very thought makes you tingle all over through excitement.

Currently bedecking the walls are a collection of women artists about to go up for auction the next day. To you, there was no true money in those frames - just a conversation between you, the spectator and the artist about their emotions in picture form. A discussion that spanned centuries as you follow Hephzi’s soft footsteps through the gallery, enjoying every single one from a still life of flowers surrounded by butterflies and other insects by Rachel Ruysch to one of the copies of Blinding by Tracy Emin - the upside down nude female form shaped in neon pink tubes. The artists speak through ages, through the art upon the wall, in the language of your soul.

Marcus would love it here. Oh to bring him and enjoy it together, walking through the space, hand in hand. My head on his shoulder...

“...Hello? Earth to Nushka? Ah, welcome back,” Hephzibah is shaking her head at you, “You’re here on work experience if anyone asks, yes?”

“Yup,” still only half listening to your friend, you begrudgingly continue on to her workspace in the fraud and forgeries department, reluctantly walking away from the art you long to submerge yourself in.

“Right, hand over the coffee and cake- I take payment in advance, Madam,” Hephzi demands, hand outstretched, “So tell me about the new job. What’s your new boss like?”

“Marcus is nice,” you quietly offer into the rim of your coffee.

“First names already?” Hephzibah’s eyes are round with surprise, “And you mention him before the job… Who even are you? What have you done with the real Nush? Oh! Oh Nush, do you like him?”

You stand there blinking hard, feeling an absolute idiot for being so awkward in front of the person you call your best friend. A small, barely perceivable nod through the steam of your coffee has the arms of your best friend wrapped around you, “Nush, tell me more - has anything happened? Do you think he feels the same way?”

“I think so. Made a curry last night for the team at his flat, and ended up staying the night - nothing happ.. Well, we didn’t have sex but I think he likes me,” you nervously chatter at her before drawing a deep breath, “He’s pretty fucking amazing. Seems to be genuinely a nice guy - just straight talking, gentle, kind and holy shit is he good looking! His kisses and touches just turn me into fucking jelly.”

“Better than Jas?”

Your heart thuds in your chest so hard that there is a point where you fully expect it to wrench open your rib cage and run across the floor. You stare wide-eyed, your mouth open

“What?”

Hephzi steps forward, her gaze gentle as she places her hand on your arm, “You weren’t quite as good at hiding it as you thought you were. It was pretty obvious you were together and loved each other very dearly - I just knew that if I ever brought it up that you would run a mile.

“I tried telling you that I knew before. It was after he died and I wanted you to know that I knew it wasn’t just the death of a co-worker. Not that there’s ever any just in those situations for us either but I knew. When I asked about meeting someone the other day, it was more of me just trying to figure out if you were ready to date again.”

With that, the floodgates open and the grief flows you like a river, eroding your defences away. Hephzi holds you as you utterly soak through her expensive blouse, “I wanted to tell you so many times but I was terrified of what you’d think of me.”

“What I’d think of you - are you fucking kidding me, you absolute idiot?” she tucks your tear drenched hair behind your ears, “I’ve held your hair back in pub toilets as you’ve thrown up from too much alcohol and gotten you out of so many other scrapes but that, a relationship with a man from work is what you think I’d judge you for? Nah, that's not how any of this works, mate. Firstly, you can’t help who you fall in love with and secondly, where else are you ever going to meet someone when all you do is work?”

“N...N...Need a tissue. You made me get all snotty,” you tearfully stammer, all blotchy-face and tear streaked.

Hephzi can’t help but laugh at you blaming her for your tears. As she grabs a tissue, she also grabs the cake and the serviettes from the bag, “Come on, I know what’ll cheer you up - cake and a masterpiece.”

Following her into the studio beside her office, there it is. A supposedly lost version of Modigliani’s Nu Couché sur le Côté Gauche - her sheer sensuality rolling off her in waves. The way that she gazes out of the piece beguilingly, inviting you to join her on the bed, the sheets ruffled and rolling beneath her delicious curves.

Hephzi laughs at your reaction to the piece, “She’s hot isn’t she?”

“Yep - I’d definitely do her. I’d like to say that it is her almond eyes enticing me but really, it’s that entirely biteable bum,” you say before biting into the pastel de nata.

“Agreed - although for me, it’s her back and her thighs. They are edible - as you rightly say,” she says into her coffee.

“How’s the provenance?”

Hepzhi pulls a face as she turns back to you, “Traceable, but this one isn’t in Ceroni.”

“Shit.”

“My thoughts entirely. Look, love, I can’t let you touch it but feel free to take photos, measurements etc. As soon as my own tests come back, I promise you’ll know before the guys upstairs do,” Hephzibah asserts before sitting back on the desk in the room, “Just remember, you’re here on work experience.”

You throw a thank you over your shoulder at the rapidly retreating figure of Hepzi as you set to work. Using a Canon with a macro lens, you instantly photograph the major features and then take several overlapping pictures so that you can look close up on your computer at work. Whilst not quite a microscope, it would have to do given the circumstances. You trusted Hephzi’s sample taking but it was good to see it in person, even if Marcus had asked you to hold fire.

Whilst you were taking measurements of various points and aspects of the picture, you realised there were multiple footsteps coming up the corridor. Hephzi, obviously heard them gaining on the studio too and rejoined you, to back the story of work experience rather than letting her old friend backstage for some covert readings. She threw her notebook at you with a pencil to have the pretence of you taking notes as she worked.

“Well, Hephzibah, that is the first time I’ve ever seen you entrust your beloved notebook with anyone other than yourself. You have never even shown me the secrets you record there, and I am the person paying your salary,” a truly plummy voice cut through the room, “Whoever this work experience girl is, we will have to see about hiring her if you trust her this much.”

Hephzibah plasters a smile onto her features, “Sir, she is the best I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Such a keen eye.”

Refusing to turn around, you carry on making notes in Hephzi’s journal, attempting to concentrate on the words written in front of you, instead of the intrusion.

“So what d’ya think? On first impressions, is it real?”

Shit.

That voice.

Stepping up in response, Hephzibah firmly states, “Sir, I am terribly sorry but I am not currently at liberty to be able to fully disclose that info…”

“Oh no, it is quite alright, Hephzibah - this gentleman is Marcus Pike. He is currently fronting an investigation into white terrorism and art forgeries with 5 Eyes. One of your old lot, you know,” Hephzibah’s boss winks as if he was letting her in on the national secrecy act.

“Marcus Pike?” Hephzi shoots you a surreptitious look before the smile is back, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir. Shame we haven’t crossed paths before now.”

Marcus offers his hand in greeting to Hephzibah, “I hope we can put that right in the future. I was wondering if we could hear from your work experience person. I am always open to fresh eyes.”

Dread courses through your veins as you turn towards Marcus, not wanting to look him in the face, “It would be remiss of me to make a declaration without reading through and tracking back the provenance as well as undertaking the necessary infrared and paint samples.”

“Sensible,” Marcus nods, his face not betraying a single emotion.

Your face creases at his lack of response, something that Hephzi’s boss picks up on, “Are you alright, dear? You don’t look terribly well.”

“Sudden headache, sir. I should probably get going for today anyway,” you virtually throw Hephzi’s notebook at her before grabbing your bag, “Thank you for today, I will be in touch, Hephzibah.”

Running out of the building as fast as your feet and lungs can carry you, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

Sir Agent Marcus Pike:

Hey,

We need to talk. My office at 5?

You:

...

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319 @sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @day-off-inkyoto @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @honestly-shite @sharkbait77 @lawfulgranola @agirllovespancakes @theravenreads @lv7867 @ezrasbirdie @songsformonkeys

#pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #ppascaledit #pedro pascal smut #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x oc reader #marcus pike x fem!reader

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justasimptm · 4 years ago

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The Bride C14

I wait a few minutes until the doorway slimes up and I can faintly hear them screaming, my heart pulls at their fear but I know I can’t risk doing anything. So instead, I turn around, close my ears to their begging, allowing it to fall silent and make my way back to the castle. The way back feels longer, filled with guilt, and the feeling of eyes on me that I can’t quite place. Instead of looking around for my stalker I keep moving, more focused on getting back and forming my revenge plan against those wretches I have to call sisters. Since they all but confirmed they were the main reason my mother had the tools and idea to put me in the cellar, they deserve anything I bring to them. And better yet, they’ve essentially given me all the things I need to be able to do it. All I need is a bit of help, and they’ve provided me with all the people I need.

My plan starts as soon as I get home.

Get home, drop to my knees on the front steps before my mother begging for her forgiveness

“Mother, please forgive me. I went after that girl because I didn’t want her to harm us, I didn’t realize she had one of your knives, I could have sworn they were still locked. I told him not to touch me but he took advantage of my weakened state to try to gain your favor. It’ll never happen again I promise, what can I do to make it up to you?” Every word out of my mouth is a lie, every plea for forgiveness a smoke screen. I keep my eyes on the ground, so I can force faux tears into them before I spare a single glance up at her. She hums softly before reaching out one of her hands to up my cheek and hold my gaze on hers. What she sees must satisfy her because she gently helps me to my feet before wiping away the fake tears that I pushed past their crest to spill down my cheeks.

“Of course I forgive you, my darling daughter. I just get so worried, you understand. Come, let's get you fed, we can discuss the rest later on.” She coos, grabbing my hand and leading me sniffling up to her room, past my sisters who jeer at me from the bottom of the stairs. “Bela, send up one of the girls with a bottle of my special wine please. Your sister and I are going to have some time together. If anything happens while we’re doing so, I will hold you responsible.”

The look on her face almost makes me smile, but I’m careful to keep my downtrodden mask on so they don’t see. That day my mother nearly spoon feeds me as she gently scolds me for not being careful. She promises to get rid of any silver so this doesn’t happen again and how she was so scared she was going to lose me. The room is filled with mutual promises, on her end that she’ll trust me more and get rid of the silver, be more cognisant of situations I get put in that are out of my control.

On my end, I’ll stay away from Heisenberg, and that I’ll be more careful when I go out, and that I’ll ask her permission before I do so. My promises are filled with nothing but lies. The only promise I mean with my entire being is that I’ll be more careful, but not of going out. I promise to myself that I’ll be more careful while inside these walls, the walls that once nurtured me and grew me and started to kill me. I promise to myself that nothing in this castle will kill me, and if anything tries, I’ll kill it first.

Do tons of little things for my mother, bringing her her favorite flowers, wines, blood, anything to make her happy, and keep my sisters away.

My sisters seem to pick up on what I’m doing, try to shove themselves into time with her and I, but like a switch flipped she tells them to go away because her and I are ‘bonding’ and ‘recovering from our argument’. They seem to cause lots of their own problems, which works in my favor. They’re too stuttery trying to get my mothers attention again, and make too many mistakes. Makes it much easier to slip back into my place in front and push them further from her favor.

Get some help from the help.

This ends up being trickier than I expected. The lies my sisters told about me coupled with their psychotic behaviors while I was in the dungeon makes them all uneasy to be around me. I finally manage to corner Anca, one of our older girls, outside my room, and it takes me almost ten minutes to convince her I’m not tricking her or trying to hurt her. When she finally settles and stops looking for an escape, I drop my act, let her see who I actually am, and pray to god she’ll listen to me. At first it looks like she wants to laugh in my face, but when I tell her about how I changed, she sombers. When she finally agrees she’ll help me and she can get the others to as well, I tell her the plan, at least the parts I have worked out. Within hours they’ve started, whispering just loud enough for us to hear.

They talk about the giant mess my sisters made in the cellar, that they knocked over an entire rack of mother's favorite wine. That starts her going, which we knew it would when I asked them to tip it and make sure every bottle smashed. The next day, they talk about how they overheard my sisters talking about how they think some of my mothers rules are unfair. The third day, about how they heard Cassandra say she thinks Heisenberg is interesting. The fourth day is what really sets my mother on edge, one of the maids is changing the bedding in Daniela’s room as mother walks by and ‘accidentally’ drops one of the silver knives my mother got rid of, very loudly, so that my mother looks in and sees it on the floor.

Mother storms through the castle shouting for my sisters, who flock to her side as soon as she says their names. She screams at them for being so careless, that their little stunt could have killed me. She goes on and on, digging into their reckless behaviors, tearing them to shreds out in the open. Part of me feels like I should be remorseful, but after everything they did to me, they deserve it.

Mid rant I swoop in, reaching up and placing a hand on her wrist to draw her attention to me. Softly I ask her to forgive them, that they missed her and that they didn’t mean it. With my pleading she agrees, telling them they need to behave better and then walking off, leaving the four of us standing together. My smile drops the second she’s out of sight, leaving my face cold and calm. They look at me as if they’re sizing me up, as I walk towards them.

“Look at me very, very carefully.” I start, levelling my voice with cruel smoothness. “I said it once before. She is my mother. No matter what you think you can do to me, I can make it much worse for you. So be more careful when you try to kill me next. Because if you aren’t successful, I’ll make sure you’re the ones who end up dead. Good night, sisters.”

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130

#Karl Heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #lady dimitrescu #resident evil 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil 8

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nomunamuinmybrain · 4 years ago

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Work you out (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: M

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2.4K

In collaboration with the lovely @alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94

Disclaimer: if you are under the age of 18 please know that this contains heavy sexual themes and mature language.

Summary: Working for Hybe has been an experience. Being Jungkook’s manager is another story. His sharp eyes, firm jawline and snarky attitude was a deadly combination to begin with. The guy easily found his way to your heart and you simply couldn't take it anymore.

Thinking back to how I managed to land such an unimaginable employment opportunity must have been a miracle. Unquestionably, working for HYBE had so many benefits; I swore to never leave this place. Sure, I was a simple manager's assistant, but I was by the side of one of the managers that handled the most important talent in the stretch of South Korea, the entire globe to be honest, BTS. I was assigned the position of assistant to the manager of one of the guys, none other than Jeon Jungkook. I really couldn’t believe my luck. Not only was I a part of one of the most skyrocketing influential enterprises in the country, but I also had the chance to meet some of the most inspiring people in the whole world! Who would have thought?!

Did I have a crush on the guy by the end of my first month working here? Yes, but who wouldn't? He is the sweetest, always polite and courteous. I've met my share of self-boasting asshats; this industry is flooded with such. This guy is worth billions and he has remained ridiculously humble. Word got around about him being a wonderful young man and I could positively say he is so much more up close. Jungkook is ridiculously handsome that’s a given already, but his personality was the real deal-maker. He reminds me of a dark stormy thundery night where I cover myself with my favourite warm fluffy blanket starring out of the window a rich flavored hot chocolate in hand.

In general, I quite enjoy working at the company’s principled environment. Don’t get me wrong, nothing in this world is rainbows and butterflies, but overall, I can confidently say that it’s been a mainly positive experience. Thankfully, the department I am in is assembled by kind, funny people who like to get things done. There hasn’t been a day were I regretted coming here. As for my daily duties as an assistant, working for Jungkook meant keeping up with his appointments, helping him with anything at anytime, managing his schedule, making sure it matches with the other guys' and so much more. I was required to work around the clock and as a single independent woman in her late twenties who was trying to figure out the world around her that didn’t sound like such a bad idea, though I digress. Essentially, I was one of the employees responsible for pretty much anything and everything he needed. Our department was at his disposal 24/7 running around, living that busy life.

That's until the pandemic struck. That was the first time I thought to myself that this might be nature’s valiant plan to get back what man so forcefully took from her. Suddenly, everything was canceled; life got put on a hold. My dearest supervisor, Jungkook's manager, had to stay at home because he had kids. In fact, a lot of people had to stay at home. Abruptly, days became weeks and weeks became months. The desperation and frustration we were feeling was like nothing else ever experienced. Truthfully, it felt like something had been stolen from us and we could never get it back. In this manner, when the gears finally started grinding again I was assigned to be the on-site manager for Jungkook. That meant being in direct contact with him more so than before and of course, being responsible for a ton of other obligations.

Not going to lie, the first months were slightly awkward for both of us and understandably so. We both were used to very different working arrangements. I might have been working behind the scenes before, but now I had to step into the spotlight becoming his own personal shadow, and I am sure he wasn’t really comfortable with that. Taken into account the current situation everyone looked like a volcano ready to erupt.

Once, I happened to accidentally step in a not so common incident; maybe it was a circumstance I wasn’t supposed to witness. He was on the phone at the time, when I saw him. That’s why I decided it was best if I stayed behind the half closed door of the studio. I couldn’t hear what he was saying and it was none of my business after all, but I could tell by the minute I laid my eyes on him that something was wrong. Something had been bothering him; irritation written all over his face. He was pacing back and forth, phone still on his ear. He was clenching his fist so hard I wondered if his nails cut into his skin. He was breathing heavily, almost as if he would burst and his muscles grew tense.

Then, in an instant, it seemed that the call ended and as he was putting the phone in his pocket he slammed his fists down onto the table a loud bang echoing in the room. After some consideration, I knocked on the door to make my presence known and he sharply looked at me. Without having the chance to say anything to him he let out a loud growl and left the room leaving me dumbfounded and unaware by the door. Soon after that, he apologized for the way he acted confessing that he had an unfortunate falling out with one of his closest friends and at the time he couldn’t process what was happening. I would never forget that day. It was the day I came across a not so familiar side to him.

From that day forward, things miraculously became easier and Jungkook was way more relaxed around my presence, we joked around often and he even texted me to ask about a variety of things outside of regular working hours. We managed to develop a teasing relationship full of endless borderline flirtatious banter. He had this other side to him that only a selected few got the chance to know. Jeon Jungkook was indeed a comforting raging night, but he was also an infuriating playful mischievous brat when he wanted to be. This in all honesty, made him a hundred times more irresistible in my eyes.

Life was going on smoothly until Jungkook decided that taking after midnight trips to the gym was perfectly acceptable, insisting that I escort him instead of his bodyguard. I cursed every single time but I went anyway. Forty-five minutes after midnight he was lifting weights, unbothered. Taking secret short glances towards him I contemplated what I had done in my previous life to deserve this torment. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less about the late hour, but to have this view in front of my eyes was causing me both mental and physical pain. The guy was clearly sculpted by the gods. With his broad chest, muscular arms and thick thighs he could have anyone he ever wanted. He even sported an hourglass figure; He is insanely unreal. That’s the main reason why I decided to sit there preoccupied with a silly game on my phone to kill time until the suffering ended. I was barely hanging from a string at the verge of blowing off the barrier between my personal and professional life.

Out of the blue, with a loud grunt, he dropped the weights, drawing me out of my contemplation. He looked annoyed for whatever reason. He tried his best to seem nonchalant but it was obvious, in his beautiful stern eyes. Could he be craving for an audience? Abandoning every rational thought I had, I put my phone away, looked in his direction as I got up to get water. I smirked at his clear annoyance. Surely, we weren't supposed to interact with the artists this way but I am cranky and sleepy, and for the first time ever, he was being kind of an ass to me. Was I perhaps the reason behind his sudden personality change? The thought kept floating at the back of my mind.

This kept going on for about three weeks or so and I gave him nothing. His annoyance prominent in his expression, more and more as the weeks went by. He was hot but I am sure all he had been seeking was an audience given that he missed it, or so I thought. Thursday evening rolls around and I was particularly iffy tonight ‘because I was extremely frustrated, sexually. This one was making my situation worse, sporting a tight black tank top and skinny grey sweatpants which made him look like a treat. He could easily pass for a bodyguard with those broad well-built shoulders. As my eyes scanned his body I realized this was the first time his tatted sleeve was on display. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander. By the time I was done his eyes were already fixed on mine and I turned away immediately, embarrassment written all over my face.

Seeking solace in the women’s bathroom I tried to extinguish this ravenous yearning. The feeling of cold water did nothing to help the burning desire that was building inside me. Without warning, a knock at the door was heard, his sweet angelic voice following "Are you okay?" he asked, the remnants of a smirk could be heard still. "Jungkook you cannot be here, I am okay. I'll be out in a minute." I exclaimed, as calm as I could. "It's been ten minutes. I can't continue unless you're there." He insisted, I heard him chuckle after that.

With that, it was now or never, I pushed the door’s handle and made my way outside rolling my eyes in the process and he caught that, quickly moving closer, clearly annoyed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in my features, making him look not quite intimidating but definitely interesting. No, it was my mistake. Not just interesting, he looked ravishing. "As I said, I'll be out in a minute. Then you can finish up" I argued. But he didn't budge, moving even closer, if that was even possible, he was almost a breath away. "I don't feel like working out anymore" he declared like a child whose toy was taken away from him. As if I chose to play heads or tails with my career, I poked the beast further, "What is it that you want to do then?" I asked making sure he heard the annoyance in my tone. Coming even closer, to the point where he was completely pressed up against me, "You" he uttered calmly yet authoritatively. Before I could process what he had just said his soft lips crushed mine with a vengeance, thirsty. Pulling my lip with his teeth, he kept planting kisses from my lips to my jaw trailing down to my neck and décolletage; a surprised panting left my lips.

It felt as if I had involuntarily awakened this beastly hunger within him. His kisses insatiable and his touch was possessive, "I've been thinking about this for so long" he confessed as he took my hoodie off. "Sitting there, not giving a word let alone a glimpse. If you think this is off-limits you're wrong" he growled pointing at himself. "I can guarantee that once we're done here you definitely won't be able to look at me, ever." As he said all that, he managed to get me in a compromising position against the sink, his slim waist in between my legs. He kept my gaze as he lowered his head between my thighs. Little shit kept giving me hickeys on the soft flesh of my inner thighs, so close to my now dripping core. He enjoyed tormenting me and it showed. I was helpless but oh, God was all of this hot. He licked a stripe over my soaked panties, "Oh baby, you smell delicious" and with one hand he took off my underwear completely.

He sank in my folds, letting a guttural moan that I felt vibrating through my core. Not being able to think about what was happening I let myself indulge in my carnal desire my hands tangled in between his luscious hair.

He loved food and I've watched him eat before, but this must be one of his favorites ‘cause he was doing his best not to let a drop go to waste; he acted like a man starved. His hands held me in place, thankfully, ‘cause everything was too much; nothing could stop me from shaking, feeling everything deep in my core, he was too much. He just had to be good at everything. He kept a torturous tempo, from sucking my clit to his sinful tongue penetrating me, and as tears gathered around my eyes he decided to add his slender fingers in bringing me closer to heaven than I've ever been. "That's it baby, let go. Let go for me" he exhaled and just like that I had the most intense climax. My limbs felt numb, my whole body felt like rubber.

Before I could register what was happening he was back at it, sucking my over stimulated clit, my thighs unconsciously closing around his head as oversensitivity hit. "One more, please, come on baby, you can do it" he begged. He kept pumping his fingers while sucking my clit, as if it was his only goal in life. My screams muffled through my own hand clamped on my mouth as I reached my high for a second time that night. I felt it take over me with such intensity I didn't register what had happened. He emerged from between my thighs, soaked from me squirting and with a proud look on his face he declared "Now I look like I had the workout of a lifetime".

He helped me get dressed and pulled me close for a soft peck. He must have noticed my concerned look because he wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug and said "Don't be scared about this, we can work it out. I really like you and I'd like you to stick around". Starring into his eyes, I nodded and he pulled me close for the sweetest kiss, trying to tame my bewildered hair. He helped me get dressed and got out the door first to make sure that no one was around. I waited for a moment and then I got a text.

#bts #bts fanfic #BTS jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #idolau #bts imagines #jungkook oneshot #bts one shot #bts text #jungkook text

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undine-taz · 4 years ago

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5 times Diavolo failed to be a sugar daddy and one time he succeeded

I'm just imagining poor Diavolo trying SO HARD to spoil an MC who is just. Not greedy in the slightest and loves weird little shinies while being totally indifferent to the super crazy expensive gifts he usually gives to people he's trying to woo. Just in case, this is the PUREST OF FLUFF and completely sfw. I can’t even think of any tw to tag??? Let me know if you notice something. Oh, and MC is imagined to be gender neutral. There’s a mention of perfume, but not in the feminine sense- that’s just the proper word for a certain level of scent concentration.

1. Expensive Perfume

Diavolo's first attempt is the most expensive perfume/cologne money can buy

He's not quite sure what MC's favorite scent is, so he buys a wide variety

All the bottles are sleek and minimalistic and the scents inside are VERY obviously expensive, the kind of thing Mammon would probably lose his mind over

MC's reaction is perfectly grateful, they say sincerely how much they appreciate him thinking of them. He doesn't feel a single lie off of them and he walks away mostly satisfied thinking maybe they’re just the type to not show a ton of excitement over gifts

That is, until he's walking down the hallways in RAD and happens to overhear a conversation between Asmo and MC

Asmo's talking about how he's been going through perfume at a record pace lately, and he feel so bad about wasting these beautiful bottles... would MC like them? He has one shaped like a rose, one like a star, one modeled after the cosmos...

Asmo doesn't even get to finish because MC is already flapping their hands in joy (I'm autistic and MC is going to happy stim if it kills me) and wiggling and practically jumping into Asmo's arms in excitement

Asmo's laughing and promising to save all of his prettiest empty perfume bottles for MC from now on and MC is practically wiggling in joy and nuzzling their face into Asmo's chest in happiness

They’re talking about spending the night in Asmo’s room trying to make perfume blends for each other to fill up the bottles and tossing scent ideas back and forth

And Diavolo is sitting there feeling a bit like he's been bonked over the head. Those happy stims are ADORABLE and he wants to be the one who causes them. He's not sure why his perfume failed and Asmo's literal empty bottles worked but he's DETERMINED to try again

2. Fancy gemstones

Diavolo's next attempt is fancy gemstones. He finds large, beautifully cut and processed gemstones, the type that are so perfectly processed they look almost identical except for color

Again, when he gives MC his gifts he can tell that they're sincerely grateful! They tell him they love that he was thinking of them, they worry that he spent too much money on them ( they try to refuse at first because it's too much, but Diavolo breezes past their protests with a smile and an iron will) and Diavolo doesn't sense even the tiniest hint of untruth from their professions of gratitude

But.... there are no happy wiggles, no stunned gasps, no joyously flapping hands, no nothing. Just calm gratitude.

Diavolo goes back to the drawing board, and he's just going to visit the HOL library for inspiration in a rare book (and as an excuse to see MC) when he hears Satan and MC laughing together in the library.

When he walks in, he sees Satan and MC crouched together with some strange tools in their hands, gently chipping away at a large rock. There's a tiny pile of uncut, unprocessed gemstones at MC's elbow.

As soon as MC sees him, he's aflood in a wash of excited chatter as MC tells him about the gemstone mining kit Satan bought after reading a book on gemstones. In fact Diavolo can see the book open at Satan's elbow along with a notebook where the two have been identifying every gemstone they dig up.

Before he knows it, MC seizes his hand and he's drawn into the game, watching their eyes shine and seeing them bounce in their seat with excitement every time they uncover a new gemstone.

Dammit. Another failure. But, Diavolo finds as he watches MC's obvious joy, he can't be too frustrated when they're this happy.

3. Shopping spree at Majolish

Diavolo is undeterred! He takes a day to bring them to Majolish, having them try on outfit after outfit. Sure, they're not picking out very many things, but he loves spending time with them and they say they're enjoying themself.

After several hours, Barbatos gently reminds him that he has a meeting soon and that MC seems absolutely exhausted.

Diavolo pouts, especially when he sees that MC hasn't picked out very many things, but he sighs and concedes.

When he drops them off at the HOL, MC gives him a hug and thanks him for helping them pick out some more formal outfits for any upcoming RAD events. Diavolo accepts the hug gladly, but there's no squeaking or jumping and DEFINITELY no flapping. MC seems rather exhausted, and Belphegor has appeared from nowhere and draped himself over MC and is mumbling about needing a nap buddy and MC isn't even trying to argue

The next day, Barbatos shows him Levi's post on Devilgram. It's a video, of Levi giving MC a plain, unassuming box.

When MC opens the box, their mouth drops open, their eyes go wide, and they fling themselves at Levi, happily nuzzling into his chest and mumbling incoherent thanks while Levi turns bright red and starts stuttering and clearly tries not to combust

The video cuts out for a second and then starts again with MC wearing a simple shirt embroidered with a strange logo, which Levi explains from behind the camera is inspired by MC's favorite series and was handmade by Levi for practice. Levi was apparently asked to design formalwear inspired by anime, and he chose MC's favorite to practice a design. According to the caption, the two spent an entire day together watching the series and sketching ideas!

MC is beaming and happy stimming while Diavolo thumps his head into his desk dramatically and Barbatos elegantly stifles a chuckle behind him.

4. Bouquets of flowers

Well now Diavolo is determined. HE WILL MAKE MC HAPPY STIM IF IT KILLS HIM

HE HAS HIS PRIDE AS THE FUTURE DEMON KING DAMMIT

He begins watching the corniest of romcoms for ideas.

Midway into one of them, he sees the character buy their love interest bouquets upon bouquets of roses

BRILLIANT! He's up and placing orders immediately. Barbatos stays behind for a few minutes to actually watch how this particular ploy works out on screen, before laughing and going to watch the chaos

As dedicated as he is to the young lord, watching Diavolo scramble around trying to impress his first puppy love only to fail because the target of his affections is simply too humble.... well, it's honestly adorable. He'll step in if it goes on for too long, but for now it might actually be good for the young master to experience something he can't have by throwing money or influence at it.

Diavolo has some of the Devildom's finest florists on the horn and he's sending a veritable flood of their finest cut flowers... AND he's sending them from an anonymous source, just like in the movie! The woman in the movie only sent over THREE bouquets to the object of her love, so Diavolo sends 300. Only the best for his MC :)

He's waiting impatiently for the results of his little scheme when he gets an apologetic text from Lucifer saying that he'll be late to the meeting and MC won't be coming at all. Some anonymous admirer sent MC an excessive amount of flowers and the sheer amount of pollen triggered allergies in ALL of the demon bros and MC.

Lucifer needed time to clear out the house and distribute allergy meds to everyone and buy out the nearest store on tissue paper

Barbatos is no longer even bothering to stifle his chuckles while Diavolo buries his face in his arms to hide his shame

To rub salt in the wound, Lucifer tells him a few days later that he set up a miniature greenhouse for MC to grow humanworld herbs in and they've barely left it in the last two days

Lucifer’s been spending most of his free time in the greenhouse with them, helping them tinker with humidity spells and listening to their excited monologues on human gardening techniques

Lucifer is definitely smirking as he tells Diavolo this and Diavolo doesn't bother to ask how Lucifer knew what was going on, because his old friend knows him too well and Diavolo realizes he's not exactly subtle.

What he doesn't realize is that Barbatos is also a dirty dirty snitch and he and Lucifer have been watching over his attempts with a mix of hilarity and pity

5. Desserts

Some might give up, but not Diavolo! His newest ideas is fancy desserts. He was told by a sweet old succubus that the best way to his lover's heart was through the stomach (actually she initially had some far raunchier suggestions that had made Diavolo blush and had given him some ideas for far, FAR in his future relationship with MC, but that's neither here nor there) and so here Diavolo is, placing a giant order at Madame Scream's to be delivered to the HOL.

This time he has learned from his mistakes and he signs it as being from him and addresses it to "MC and the residents of HOL" because even he recognizes there are far too many sweets for a human to eat before they go bad

Barbatos by this point is starting to feel pity and is almost tempted to suggest he wait until it's not Beel's day for Fangol practice to send a giant array of tempting sweets.

Almost. If it weren't for the maid cafe fiasco of last week Barbatos probably would have, but that lace had chafed in areas that should never be chafed.

Diavolo sent his gift only to receive a poorly drawn thank-you card drawn by Beel and signed by everyone at the HOL, including MC, even though "I didn't even get a chance to eat any, BEEL"

This poor man feels his soul leave his body, especially when he returns home from RAD to find Barbatos and MC baking together and singing along to Disney songs (well, MC was singing, Barbatos was simply watching them with a smile and occasionally twisting them into a simple dance to make them laugh and squiggle with joy)

Et tu, Barbatos?

After yesterday's glitter incident, Barbatos has no shame and simply smirks back. He'll help the young lord when he can shower without finding glitter in every crevice.

+1: Tea together

Diavolo is planning his next gift when he gets a message from MC, of all people

His heart flutters, he has butterflies in his stomach, and he hasn't even read it yet!

It's a simple text- "What are you up to?"

Obviously Diavolo can't admit he's shirking paperwork to try and figure out a gift that would make them happy! So he improvises and claims he's working. He gets back a sad face emoji and a simple "Miss you! I feel like we haven't hung out in forever, but I know how busy you are. Good luck, I'm rooting for you!"

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART AND MC IS TO BLAME

This man is dramatically draped over his desk wailing about how cute MC is.

Luckily for him Barbatos has forgiven him for both the maid cafe incident and the glitter incident and Diavolo has been too distracted trying to plan gifts to cause any new chaos

Barbatos hands him a lovely picnic basket, complete with tea and fancy sandwiches, and tells him to go see MC and take a break since he's clearly not getting any work done as is.

Cue guilty glance to the overwhelming stack of paperwork that's been building up. He swears he's never seen Barbatos place more and yet they keep growing, are they breeding somehow...? Did Lucifer curse him after the taffy incident?

Either way, Diavolo takes the basket and heads off to HOL.

He's either very lucky or (more likely) Barbatos bribed Lucifer into helping him out, as MC is the one to answer the door.

They look kind of down until they see him and he explains he's there to spend time with them, and then they absolutely LIGHT UP.

Before he knows it, they've thrown himself into his arms and they're bouncing in excitement and snuggling him and happy flapping and boyo is confused but OVER THE MOON.

He finally did it!?!?! What was it!?!?! The picnic basket? Do they have a thing for picnics baskets!?!?!

And then he actually tunes in a d listens to their flood of chatter and how happy they are to see him and how much they've missed him and how excited and grateful they are they he took time out of his busy schedule to spend time with him and out in the thought to prepare a way for them to spend time in each other's company...

O H

He is M E L T I N G

He can't believe it was this easy.... no need for fancy gifts or anything like that, just... paying attention to their likes and spending time with them????

Holy shit he is gonna protect this human's smile witH HIS LIFE

And now that he understands them better he can buy EXPENSIVE SHIT THEY'LL ACTUALLY LIKE AND HE'LL GET ALL THE HAPPY SNUGGLES AND JOYOUS STIMMING IN THE WORLD!!!!

Yes, he decides, wrapping his arms around them while trying to keep the basket level

Now that he's gotten a taste of their sincere joy, he's hooked and he's going to make them as excited and happy as this as often as he possibly can.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me one master to rule them all #sfw #fluff #bc Dia is just as starved for a friend #gn!mc

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develation · 3 years ago

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SCP AU

So @emeraldtrainer1 (Ao3), @writingforfunandbecauseboredom (Ao3), and DarkstarWolf53 (<-Dunno if they have Tumblr) did an SCP AU three-way Convo fic some months ago. I really enjoyed the outline and concept and asked if I could expand on it. With their permission and about a month of research into what the actual SCP Foundation is (and holy cow there is so much, no wonder people are all over this) I've finally managed to get a start on this. There is a decent amount of things that are different from their original Convo (via their permission) but it will basically follow the same storyline that they created. Please go check their Convo out, it's a very long and fun read with a lot of good fluff and Angst mixed in.

I will hopefully be drawing some of my designs soon but for now, writing seems to be the way to go. Here is a link to it on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/33213928/chapters/82464553

I'll also have it below in case you would like to read it on Tumblr instead.

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Error: (The End Of All But Me.) There are too many unworldly traits that spiders have that I couldn't just not give to Error, so I've kind of combined their Puppetmaster concept to my design. He has 4 arms with clawed fingertips, his tail is prehensile and his jaw can split open. He has 5 tongues still, 2 of them are spear-like, and can shoot out and impale victims. The saliva produced under the tips of the barbs on the two tongues can liquidity a prey items insides so he can drink them up (still a clean freak, using the skin as a cup and drinking up any mess leaving a skin bag behind). His other three tongues are prehensile and can extend to an unknown length, they are barbed aswell but do not carry the venomous saliva. Strings wrap along his bones from his eye sockets, which he uses to create a nest atop the ceiling of his cell.

SCP-002's (Apollyon class) cell is a blank room (it ask for a TV later on) that goes up vertically 2 floors. The top half is required to be shrouded in darkness as it likes voids of either white or black. It has filled the darkness of its cell with a nest of strings that it spends all of its time in, even when feeding. It does not attempt to attack staff, when asked why it replied with, "Not yet." Personal have not been able to decipher what it means by that statement. In an interview via speakers and mics within containment cell, it was asked why SCP-002 stares off at seemingly nothing for extended periods of time and never touches the ground. Subject responded with, "Busy." When asked what it was busy doing- "Watching." When asked what it was watching- "The world. Everything." Due to this experience, it can be concluded that 002 can view any place in the world and perhaps beyond via "screens". These "screens" are unviewable to anyone but 002 and 001 as the latter SCP had called them so, hence their given name. SCP-002 has a strange relationship with SCP-001 and it can not be determined if 002 likes or dislikes 001.

Ink created Error on accident. In the beginning, Ink didn't know what he was doing, and the brutality of Earth's natural forces of destruction were uncontrollable. If he wanted to bring life to his chosen planet he needed a way to control the chaos. And so through the storm, a new force was born. And even if Ink didn't create it, he did wish for it.

Error is a ticking time bomb for extinction. He waits and watches until he decides it's time for a "spring cleaning" and starts his work. The Ordovician, Late Devonian, Permian, Triassic, and Cretaceous mass extinctions were all him. He deemed the human race ready for a "cleaning" a long time ago and Ink agreed with him, ready to see and make something new. But Nightmare threatened the both of them by stating that he would make the earth forever inhabitable and they would have to kill him before he stoped his rage. Nightmare fears that if another extinction event were to occur he'd lose his boys.

Ink: (God doesn't care about what's right or what's wrong. God just wants to watch interesting things happen.) His form is always changing, different traits from different animals and organisms he's created. Ink is basically Gaia. Born when Theia crashed into Earth around 4.5 billion years ago, he made everything that ever existed. Since he's made A LOT of organisms he has a ton of favorites and the traits from them are what mostly show up when he mutates. Sometimes it's Kaprosuchus with belonged snout and fangs. Sometimes it's Tylosaurus with its marine reptilian posterior. Sometimes it's Chital Deer and their antlers. More often than not though, his tail has consistently stated having bristle-like hair at the tip of it, which is basically his brush. The concept of paintbrushes is pretty new to him since the human race has been around for a short time compared to other species, so while he does have one, his tail is his broomie. If his next from doesn't have it then he just uses his hands and his blood.

Ink can't be contained. It's that simple, he just can't. He just sticks around because it's interesting and hilarious to see his creations so intelligent but so stupid. (remember how humans are still young in terms of Earth's age, so the fact that they're so smart... on a thought level that could almost match his own is so very interesting to see and watch. even if there ruining his planet.) The SCP foundation just has to let him do his thing and hope that he doesn't override 003's and 004's decision to not have an extinction event.

His cell is basically a mini-ecosystem, with all of his favorite organisms living within whether they are extinct or not. He loves his little sample of the world and it keeps him in his cell for a good amount of time so the foundation let him have it. If any of them even touch what is HIS without permission then he rips them apart and feeds them to the baby Rhamphorhynchus. Don't touch his babies.

...Cross though... he can touch his babies... and Dream... and maybe Error... That's it though!

SCP-001 (Apollyon Class) is a being older than all living things, despite his toddler-like mannerisms. Even more infuriating, within an interview, 001 openly admitted to being the cause of all SCP's and their anomalous effects. It stated that they were all just mistakes and/or experiments, testing the limits of their own abilities. 001's quoted response- "You don't get it do you? I made everything here! All of your little "SCP's" are just of my creation as all of you. Sure there all mistakes but, it just proves my point that it's time to start over again. A clean slate y'know? Pfft- wow you look mad! If it makes you feel any better, I don't like most of them either. They were cool at first but... it's like flicking black paint over a finished painting. Sure, you can try to get over it but eventually, it will just bother you so much that you just can't stand it! Well... I do kinda want some of them to stay... If I could just convince Ru..." -shows evidence to this conclusion. Termination trials were approved by the 05 Council, though have not been able to start since 001's creation of a barrier around its cell, preventing entry of anything that tries to pass.

[Note: Error, Dream, and Nightmare are not included in what Ink views as "mistakes". Y'know when you're trying something new and you don't know what you’re doing, yet it works somehow. That's them, happy accidents. Ink adores them.]

Ink finds the attempt of Termination trials on him to be absolutely hilarious. The fact that humanity's insecurity about their lifespan and control is so great that they'd try to KILL HIM. Amazing. He can't believe he's managed to make the simultaneously best and worst organism ever.

Dream: (When day breaks.) Again he was accidentally created by Ink’s actions in an intense solar storm. The flare drifting over the earth in combination with Ink’s magic still working to bring life brought him to existence. Dream’s design is almost harpy-like, with beautiful golden, sun-like wings with a small feathery crest atop his skull. Two tail-like feathers sprout from the crest that can rise up and down depending on expression and mood. He also has bird feet and legs, and a tail.

Dream adores all life, his is the warmth and growth of the sun (original form being a ball of light and plasma that literally looks like a mini sun). He is basically like a piece of the sun on earth. His cell is kinda like Ink’s, only in the fact that there are just a couple of animal species. Some deer, birds, and insects mainly. Ink obviously just appeared in his cell one day and made it for him. While Dream could be considered to be a Safe SCP, his ability to damage or completely ruin the planet if inraged prevents that classification.

SCP-003 (Apollyon Class) has proven to be a relatively docile creature. It is elegant in nature (like that of a bird) and shows greater empathy towards all life in general. Unlike SCP’s 001, 002, and 004 who view it as more interesting and admirable, more like a pretty crystal than an actual being with its own consciousness. 003 can not be fully contained and has shown the ability to travel through light rays. Its aura has also shown to be some form of anesthesia, and exposure for prolonged periods causes victims to feel more at peace and calm. 003 does have the capability to travel through the “dreamscape”, what exactly that in tails is unknown.

Dream doesn’t agree with the extinction event thing because the Holocene period hasn’t lasted for nearly as long as it should. On the other hand, he does distaste humanity/monsterkind for all it has done to the planet. Even so, he feels like they deserve more of a chance.

Nightmare: (Does the Black Moon howl?)(Death) Complete with the theme of being Dreams opposite, Nightmare was born from a black moon and the combination of Ink’s magic bringing life to the earth. He isn’t an evil force or anything, just the night to the day. His design is pretty true to OG nightmare, although his legs and feet share the same digitigrade format. His tentacles are more ghostly than slimy and they drip upwards instead of towards the ground. His bones also have a ghost;y wisp to them, but it isn’t that noticeable. Instead of only having a turquoise glint in his magic, there are sparks of purple aswell. (His original form being a black sphere of what looks like smoke).

His cell is basically an entrance to a cave system that Ink had made for him. Inside is a galaxy of crystals and gemstones that glow and sparkle like the night sky. A small stream runs through, the light refracting off of the water, adding to the glow effect. It is a nice calm place for Nightmare to just chill in, his separate own little world.

Nightmare is kind of mysterious, in the realm of Error in which he likes to watch things happen. Just lurking in the shadows, a quiet observer. Though, he wasn’t as fascinated by life as the others. So to prevent his boredom Ink made him a present- Killer. Nightmare hated the little thing at first but it didn’t take too long to grow fond of the little guy. Not too long later Ink pronounced his joy in watching Nightmare sigh in frustration by sending 2 more bundles his way -Dust and Horror- and Nightmare had to threaten Ink to stop before any more joined the fray.

SCP-004 (Apollyon Class) is an entity whose intentions are completely unknown. A mysterious being that chooses to dwell in the cave system 001 made for it. The entity refuses to interact with personal unless in interview. And when it does respond, it does so in riddles and metaphors. It seemingly takes joy asking more questions than the interviewer, turning the conversation in its favor. On such question that has been repeated multiple times - “Does the Black Moon howl?” has puzzled personal. Though 004 states that if answered correctly and explained why, then it will share its secrets with that person and that person only.

004 proves to be uncontainable like its counterparts, able to travel through shadows. SCP’s 012, 032, and 024 seem to be “followers” of 004, and regularly go missing from their cells. Most likely 004’s doing.

[Ink created Killer, Dust, and Horror during the era where dinosaurs were still alive, so they have some traits from them.]

Killer: (War) Was created by Ink for Nightmare to keep him entertained. Killer was born as a baby in Ink’s very hands, a little skeleton with curved blades for hands and digitigrade legs and feet (and little quills on his back). Growing up under Nightmare’s care was an interesting experience, but he thought Kill’s everything he needed to know.

-[SCP-012, Keter]-

Killer is fast, very fast. And he enjoys killing things (what a surprise). He’s pretty much the same cocky boi as always. His more SCP side is that he doesn’t seem to ever feel pain and the black liquid that leaks through his eyes. That can be used as a type of venomous toxin to whatever he pleases.

Dust: (Pestilence) You know Epidexipteryx and Therizinosaurus? Those are Dust hands, long with even longer claws. He can also turn into literal dust, more of a phantom or wraith in nature. He can walk through walls, and turn others to dust and grow himself if he wishes.

He and Horror could be twins since Ink made them both at the same time. Holding his little creations in his arms as they wriggled and whined in confusion at suddenly being alive.

-[SCP-032, Keter]-

Dust is pretty quiet and tame. He has his episodes but he stays pretty much the same as bookwrym’s, writing’s, and Dark’s Dust.

Horror: (Famine) Since Horror is a vent crawler I based his design on that. Horror’s second set of arms are like a praying mantis with an extra joint, hands serrated blades almost like Killer’s. He used to sit in trees and wait for prey to walk underneath him, plucking them from the ground with his long arms and eating them alive.

Same thing when in vents, just waits over the openings and plucks a person off of the ground and into the vent (if personal don’t keep up with his feeding times)

-[SCP-024, Euclid]-

Other than his design Horror is pretty much the same as bookwyrm’s, writing’s, and Dark’s concept.

Outer: [SCP-044, Safe] His stardust makes him have luminescent galaxy and star patterns on his bones. He floats regularly without control over it and can sometimes make other objects float, in rare cases people, aswell. Ink made him a jacket where pieces of its hood and aglets float off like a sort of fluffy foam. The pieces orbit him like planets to a star before joining back, making a continuous cycle.

(And yes writingforFUN, he will still keep his anime sparkling eyelight’s).

Cross: [SCP-00X, Thaumiel] Was created by Dr. X to help contain and terminate Keter SCP’s. Being forced to kill his brother when he turned Keter, not completely in control of his actions. Dr. X’s “programing” making him see his brother no longer as such, just an object to be eliminated. When Cross became uncontrollable Dr. X put wiped his memory without the 05’s or administers permission and an MTF was sent after him that came back empty-handed. Cross was brought back soon enough and had his memory wiped.

They bring him back in as a staff member and that’s when the story kicks off, mostly following bookwyrm’s, writingforFUN, and Dark’s original outline/convo.

(I apologize for any typos)

#undertale au #scp au #writing

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