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polutrope · 2 years

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Fëanorians as Leonard Cohen Songs

I was inspired by this post by @ma3dhros to match Fëanorians with one of my fave artists, Leonard Cohen.

Fëanor: Everybody Knows

Rebellion-era, totally disillusioned and pissed off. Imagine this playing as he’s dying and looking at the towers of Thangorodrim, knowing they will never overthrow them and making his sons recommit to the Oath any way. Musically it also has the right tone.

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking

Everybody knows that the captain lied

Everybody got this broken feeling

Like their father or their dog just died

Nerdanel: In My Secret Life

I don’t love how it positions her in relation to Fëanor and her children (i.e., men) but it’s also the feel of this song, musically - it’s softer and gentler than most, and yet determined in its rhythm.

Looked through the paper

Makes you want to cry

Nobody cares if the people

Live or die

And the dealer wants you thinking

That it's either black or white

Thank God it's not that simple

In my secret life

Maedhros: Almost Like the Blues

This was hard. Maedhros is such a leviathan in this fandom and I don’t feel I have spent enough time with him, but the below lyrics were way too on-the-nose to resist.

I have to die a little

Between each murderous thought

And when I'm finished thinking

I have to die a lot

There's torture, and there's killing

And there's all my bad reviews

The war, the children missing, lord

It's almost like the blues

Maglor: You Want It Darker

I mean, the angst is off the charts (but also totally rational?)

If you are the dealer, I'm out of the game

If you are the healer, it means I’m broken and lame

If thine is the glory, then mine must be the shame

You want it darker

We kill the flame

Celegorm: First We Take Manhattan

I’m sorry. I really don’t like Celegorm. I know he was okay once, I just can’t get over his post-Bragollach behaviour, which is what this song refers to. (Yes this song is actually about fashion so not that aspect)

They sentenced me to 20 years of boredom

For trying to change the system from within

I'm coming now, I'm coming to reward them

First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

I'm guided by a signal in the heavens

I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin

I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons

First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

Caranthir: It Seemed the Better Way

Sympathetic!Caranthir.

I better hold my tongue

I better take my place

Lift this glass of blood

Try to say the grace

Seemed the better way

When first I heard him speak

But now it's much too late

To turn the other cheek

Curufin: Why Don’t You Try

Ohhh I struggled with you, Curufinwë. I am not satisfied with this choice, but just imagine positioning him in relation to Fëanor. I don’t know whose POV this. I kind of like the slow, choppiness of the song itself, which contrasts a LOT with my choice for Celegorm. I guess this could be a Curufinrod song but I don’t know that ship well enough to say.

Do you wanna be the ditch around a tower?

Do you wanna be the moonlight in his cave?

Do you wanna give your blessing to his power

As he goes whistling past his daddy, past his daddy's grave

I will probably change my mind about this one.

Mrs. Curufin: A Street

I didn’t even know this song before browsing for this post but had to add in Curufin’s wife for it. This is if she followed him to Middle-earth.

You left me with the dishes

And a baby in the bath

You're tight with the militias

You wear their camouflage

You always said we're equal

So let me march with you

Amrod (crispy): Joan of Arc

This is a bit on the nose, but why not?

It was deep into his fiery heart

He took the dust of Joan of Arc

And then she clearly understood

If if he was fire

Oh, then she must be wood

Amras+Amrod (raw): Who by Fire

Yeah, I picked another fire song, what can you do? Amras gets this to himself in the Crispy!Amrod canon variant. I mostly just like that it’s a series of questions, like the Ambarussa are a series of questions. And probably had a lot of questions about their choices, and how everyone they knew was going to die and they (or Amras) last almost to the end and why? I have a pretty developed headcanon for Amras where he’s pretty much disillusioned and just dead inside from the time Amrod dies, but also a bit manic. So the series of questions and their weirdness (”merry merry month of may”) works for that.

And who by fire, who by water

Who in the sunshine, who in the night time

Who by high ordeal, who by common trial

Who in your merry merry month of may

Who by very slow decay

And who shall I say is calling?

Celebrimbor: Anthem

I don’t have a ton of thoughts on Celebrimbor cause I’m a bit of a First Age puritan I just don’t ever feel I’ve run out of FA material to contemplate. I want to let him have a crack to let the light in, thought, at least for a while.

Ah, the wars they will be fought again

The holy dove, she will be caught again

Bought and sold, and bought again

The dove is never free

Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in

Bonus

Melkor: The Future

I considered this for Fëanor but it’s just So. Dark. it cannot be anyone but Melkor. I don’t personally Angbang so I don’t have a good grasp on it but it could be Angbang?

Your servant here, he has been told

To say it clear, to say it cold

It's over, it ain't going

Any further

And now the wheels of heaven stop

You feel the devil's riding crop

Get ready for the future

It is murder

#feanorians #leonard cohen #feanor #nerdanel #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #amrod #amras #sons of feanor #melkor #curufin's wife #celebrimbor #curufinrod #angbang #orig

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

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You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 9

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The shared pain of both might have been easier for Derek to handle, but as a human - it was taking everything I had to stay awake.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Derek called, gritting his teeth at the movement in his wrists. I looked up slowly but my head dropped back down again.

“I’m so tired.” I hummed sleepily.

“Don’t give up!” He shouted, “You can’t. Because you didn’t give up on me!”

“Yeah,” I giggled, “I’m a real hardass, aren’t I?”

“Come on” Derek jerked at his restraints, “Come on!” My body went slack, and the last thing I heard was a loud rumbling roar cutting through the air.

The space I was in was empty, dark and clouded. The only thing was a purple glowing path. I started down the path, seeing people along the path, watching as I walked.

I saw my mom and Dad, they were worried looking around, soot and ash covered their faces and clothes.

“(Y/N)?!” Mom called.

“Sweetie, where are you?!” Dad shouted, keeping close to mom.

“I’m right here-” I tried to reach out to them but my fingers were zapped by whatever barrier was around the path. I pulled my hand back and looked at my fingers, the same glow from the path lit them up and slowly faded back to the color of my skin. I guess I can’t leave the path once I start. I walked further, realizing that what I was walking was a spiral.

The third familiar face I saw was Laura Hale. She smiled at me kindly, her eyes flashing red.

“Take care of Derek. He’s strong, but he needs someone to help him along the way. You need him too. That’s what mates do. Oh and tell him I said hi.”

“I will.”

Laura laughed under her breath, “It’s good to see you again, (Y/N).” She turned, walking away.

“Again? Have we…met before?” She was gone, a wisp in the shadows. All I could do was keep going.

In the middle of the spiral, there were two other paths that met there. I stepped on the connection and the paths brightened from a purple to a while. That’s when I realized that I had been walking on a giant triskelion, the symbol of the Hale family.

“(Y/N), come on, wake up.” I heard a voice called. I opened my eyes slowly, Scott was lightly tapping my face.

“Scott?” I whispered. He laughed, bending down to untie my restraints and helping me into a standing position. I leaned on Scott, blinked slowly, then finally looked around. The man who was sent in to torture us was on the ground, out cold. Looking around again, I saw Derek who had one arm out of his restraints.

“You gotta help me with this.” He motioned to the shackle. Scott helped me move over closer, leaning me up against the wall.

“No.” Scott said.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“Not until you tell me how to stop Peter.”

“You really want to talk about this right now?”

“He’s going after Allison and her family. He’s going to kill them.”

“So what!? We need to get her out of here.” He motioned to me. At that moment, the pain started up again.

“So tell me how to stop him.”

“You can’t! Alright, now!” Derek pulled on the shackle, “I don’t know when Kate’s coming back, just get me out of this right now! Get me out right now!!”

"Promise you’ll help me.” Scott was adamant, but he wasn’t usually this stubborn without a reason.

“You’re gonna risk our lives for your girlfriend, huh? For your stupid little teenage crush that means absolutely nothing?! You’re not in love, Scott! You’re sixteen years old! You’re a child!”

He nodded, “Maybe you’re right. But I know something you don’t. Peter said he didn’t know what he was doing when he killed your sister, right?” He pulled a picture out of his pocket, it was a dead deer with a spiral on its side.

“Remember this? This is what brought your sister back to Beacon Hills, right?”

“My boss told me, three months ago, somebody came into the clinic asking for a copy of this picture. Do you wanna know who it was?” Derek just stared.

“Where did you get that?”

“Peter’s nurse. They brought your sister here so he could kill her and become the alpha, and that’s why you’re going to help me!”

Derek gripped onto the shackle chain and breathed heavily. Clearly upset that it was true that his Uncle killed his sister on purpose, not on accident.

Scott turned around, “Just say that you’ll help me and I’ll help unlock your other-” He was cut off by the sound of the chain breaking Derek’s other restraint. His anger was running through him like wildfire and his anger lit the flame in me to keep going. He finally saw the truth.

Derek rubbed his wrist, "I’ll help you.” I smiled at him.

“Laura said hi.” I said softly. Derek inhaled deeply and nodded, licking his bottom lip. Derek took me in his arms, and we all went up out of the cellar and outside.

After walking a while, we made it to the house. I was walking at this point, getting some strength back. We had rushed out of the cellar in case we met Kate along the way. I felt the familiar terrible feeling in my chest and grabbed Derek’s hand. He looked back at me, and through the connection we had he understood.

“Hold on.” Derek stopped us all, “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know, it’s- it’s kind of like it’s-”

"No, no, no, don’t say ‘too easy’! People say 'too easy’ and bad things happen.” Scott warned, “What you think fighting was too easy? Getting away from Allison’s dad, none of this has been easy!“

"Fine. You’re right.” He said, I gripped his hand tighter.

“Phew.” Scott sighed. As the air left his mouth, a whistling sound preceded an arrow shooting through Derek’s back. My shoulder jerked, feeling the force of the arrow go through him. Derek fell to the ground, pulling me with him. Looking behind us, I saw Kate with her new protégé: Allison. Allison notched another arrow. As Derek stood again, another arrow shot through his leg. I cried out, going down with him.

“Scott! Your eyes!” Derek called, squeezing his eyes shut. Scott and I helped Derek to his feet, fighting through the gas that could knock all of us out. Another arrow whistled, this time the pain I felt in my side was real. I cried out, falling forward. Derek’s arm kept me from hitting the ground. We made it to an area where Derek could remove both arrows in him, and mine.

“Shit.” I cursed, pressing my hand to my side.

Derek stood, grabbing Scott by his collar, “Come on!” He pulled us to the Hale house, limping all the way. He eventually fell just in front of the house, shoving Scott and I ahead. I looked back, seeing Allison stalking towards us.

“Allison, I can explain-” Scott pleaded.

“Stop lying.” Allison’s voice held no emotion what-so-ever, “For once, stop lying."

Scott backed away as she got closer, "I was going to tell you at the Formal, I was gonna tell you everything. Everything that I said, everything that I did-”

“Was to protect me.” She finished.

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh thank god, now shoot him before I have to shoot myself.” Kate groaned as she walked up on us, pulling a gun from her belt.

“You said we were just gonna catch them.” Allison said, the sight of the gun seemed to frighten her.

“We did that. Now we’re gonna kill them.” Kate aimed at Derek, shooting him as he lay helpless on the ground.

“DEREK!” I shouted, trying to move towards him, but Kate aimed the pistol directly at me, I backed away hesitantly. Tears streaming down my already tear stained cheeks. She turned the pistol on Scott.

“I loved those brown eyes.” Kate sighed, finger on the trigger.

“He’s just a kid!” I shouted, moving to get the gun from her when another voice entered.

“Kate!” The voice’s origin appeared from the shadows and there stood Chris Argent, “I know what you did. Put the gun down."

“I did what I was told to do.” She excused herself.

“No one asked you to murder innocent people. There were children in that house. Ones who were human. Look what you’re doing now, you’re holding a gun at a sixteen year old boy. No proof he’s spilled human blood. We go by the code. Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.”

“We hunt those who hunt us.” Allison whispered. Kate still didn’t move her gun.

Chris pulled one on her, “Put the gun down.” He shot off a round, “Before I put you down.“ The gun he was using looked…so familiar.

“Whatcha doin’, daddy?” I asked, peaking my head over his work bench. Dad was etching a carving into the side of one of those guns mommy said I couldn’t touch because they were dangerous. He was drawing a pretty picture of a dog and the sun.

“Just something for a friend, sweetie.” He looked down at me over his glasses, “Now go run along.”

My father made guns for Chris Argent…

“Allison, get back.” Chris commanded. Allison, Scott and I moved away from the entrance of the house. Chris and Kate pointed their pistols towards the door.

“What is it?” Allison whispered, her voice trembled.

"It’s the alpha.” Scott replied. We all stood there, the tension in the air could have been cut with a knife. Allison pulled her bow, aiming towards the door. Scott shifted into his wolf form. I moved away from the group, with no weapon I just moved back, leaning against a tree. I felt at my side, blood still trickled down my side but now as much as it was before.

In a flash, something darted from the house, towards the group. Everyone scattered, nowhere to run. Allison made her way towards me, keeping her arm steady, ready to shoot.

Chris shouted, knocked off his feet, Allison and I were next. The impact of the fall worsened my wounds. Scott followed as Peter knocked us all to the ground faster than we could anticipate. Now it was just Kate who stood alone.

“COME ON!” She shouted in the dark, “COME ON!” In an instant, Peter was with her. He grabbed her wrist and shot off his gun as he broke her arm. She screamed in pain. His hand moved to her throat, throwing her towards the house. He flashed to her side, dragging her into the house.

“No!” Allison shouted.

“Allison, stop!” I groaned, following her inside. She didn’t realize what danger she was putting herself in, no matter how angry she was at Scott, she couldn’t take on an alpha werewolf by herself.

Allison stood in front of Peter who held his claws to Kate’s throat.

“She is beautiful, Kate.” He remarked casually, “She looks like you.” He pressed the tips of his claws against her throat, making her gasp, “But not as damaged. So I’m going to give you a chance to save her.“

Peter was shaking from his anger, “Apologize.” He commanded, “Say that you’re sorry for decimating my family. For leaving me burned and broken for six years. Say it. And I’ll let her live."

"I’m sorry.” Kate muttered, letting her pride slip away at the danger her niece was in.

Peter’s face did not move, her hands trembling as he quickly dragged his claws across her jugular. Blood spraying across Allison’s face. I watched Kate’s shocked face, the light going out of her eyes. Her body fell to the floor.

Peter sighed in relief, a smile on his face, “I don’t know about you, Allison but that apology…didn’t sound very sincere.” Scott appeared, standing his ground in front of Allison, Derek followed, both in the werewolf form.

“Run.” Scott said to us. Allison made it out but Peter blocked the door as I tried to follow.

“No, let (Y/N) stay. After all, this is her future.” Peter grinned, as I backed up towards the staircase. Scott and Derek circled Peter while he looked vaguely like he was enjoying the situation. They both growled and lunged towards Peter, but both were repelled away. Derek threw a punch, but was tossed up into a ceiling beam and thrown into a fallen piano. I fell against the stairs, feeling every impact. My ears were buzzing with voices: Mom, Dad, Stiles, Uncle Noah, Kate. I pressed my hands to my heart praying it would stop. Flashes of triskelions, my parents, and wolves appeared in my mind every time I tried to close my eyes.

Scott jumped onto Peter’s back but was instantly thrown off. Both beta on the ground. Seeing Derek and Scott there, looking up at Peter in fear just made something inside me scream.

I couldn’t remember moving over to them, but I stood in front of both of them, separating them and Peter.

“(Y/N), get out of here!” Derek shouted, his fear touching my new courage but not enough to make it waver.

“I’m not letting you hurt them.” I glared. Peter only laughed.

“Ahh, this was always something I admired about you. You have so much fighting spirit. But I’m afraid the fun is over.” He went to grab me, but was confused when my hand made it to his first. His wrist trembled to move, but only stayed put in my grasp. He looked from his wrist to my eyes, confusion spreading across his face.

Later, I would not be able to describe the feelings I had when this…snap finally happened. But it was like a dam went off inside of me, everything fell into place, and the wolf inside of me came to light.

In his shocked eyes, I saw the reflection of mine that burned bright red, “I said, I’m not letting you hurt them.” I kicked him in the stomach, sending him through a wall. My breathing was heavy, my gums aching as fangs grew. I looked over my shoulder at the two, both of them shocked.

Peter stood back up, cracking his neck to the side, “A surprise, I like surprises.” His voice became a disembodied growl.

Perhaps I got cocky, because I lunged at him again, but this time he got the upper hand. His claws ripping through fabric and the skin of my stomach, then tossing me through a window. I landed hard on my back, gritting my teeth together. I was pulled to the side by Chris Argent, he kneeled down, trying to hide the surprise on his face when he saw my eyes.

Peter grabbed Scott by the collar, lifting him through the air. I tried to get up again but stopped, this new wound from the alpha was making it harder for my body to heal itself. Scott kicked himself off of the alpha, flipping backwards. Peter stumbled back as Scott landed on his knees. The beast prepared to lunge at Scott again when everyone’s heads turned in the direction of a car horn. Jackson’s Porsche pulled up, Stiles and Jackson exiting. He ran forward, throwing a jar towards the beast. Peter caught the jar, growling towards him.

“Oh damn.” Stiles squeaked.

“Allison!” Scott called, throwing Allison her bow. She caught it, loaded and hit her mark. Glass breaking and Peter going up in flames. He roared, trying to put out the flames but because of the chemical reaction, they only continued to rage. He roared, making a final run towards Allison, trying to take her out with him. Scott got in his way, kicking him away. Peter was thrown back, falling on his knees.

Peter Hale fell to the ground, ending his murder spree the way it started - burned and broken. The only thing we could hear was his sputtering and coughing as his lungs fought for air.

“(Y/N)!” Stiles ran forward, hugging me tightly. I grunted as he put pressure on my wound but I hugged him back. I can’t imagine how worried he was, how worried he had been since this whole thing started.

“Wait!” Scott shouted. I pulled away from Stiles, seeing Derek kneeling over Peter, his claws raised. Derek stopped, looking back at him. Derek’s adrenaline was running wild.

“You said the cure comes from the one who bit you. Derek, if you do this, I’m dead. Her father, her family- what am I supposed to do?”

“You’ve… already… decided…” Peter choked out, “I can smell it on you…!” Whether Derek liked it or not, Derek had decided to kill him, finally closing the chapter of justice for Laura.

“Wait! No, no! Don’t!” Scott pleaded, but we all watched Derek slash Peter’s throat and Peter’s last breath slipped out.

“I’m the alpha now.” Derek’s voice was a growl, his eyes red. I started walking towards them when I heard Stiles gasp. He looked down at his shirt, seeing the blood stains that had come from my stomach. I looked down, still seeing the blood and now a black liquid had appeared.

“Well, that’s not good.” I swallowed and stumbled back into what felt like a brick wall. But it was Derek behind me, holding me up. Stiles rushed forward, but stopped short when Derek growled.

“Hey,” I slurred, slapping Derek lightly with the back of my hand, “Stop that. I just need to.. need to lay down.” I closed my eyes, slipping off to sleep.

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Read part 10 here!

I promise you, it breaks off from the plot of the show eventually.

Likes, Comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Comment or message me to be added to the taglist :)

YSM

@nyotamalfoy

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#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #teen wolf x reader

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burntmcnuggies · 4 years

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Hawks and S/O Play Among Us

Hawks x Reader

Just a small headcanon I made since me, my mom, my brother, my step-sister, and some of my friends play all the time! If you wanna play together or just chat with me lemme know and I’ll make a private group for you all to join and chat with me! ;)

Warnings: strong language, excess use of profanity, so if you don’t like very strong language please leave! A slight little bit of suggestive sexiness from Hawks, but it’s very very brief! That’s it!

Enjoy!

* Cheats all the time. So make sure you both are in separate rooms. If you’re beside him playing on your phones, he will for sure peek over and see if you’re an imposter or not.

* If you’re both Crewmate he’ll stay glued to your side. He’ll do all tasks with you, make sure he follows you if something got sabotaged, even though this may cause you to lose. “Hawks go to the other one! We only have 15 seconds!” “But what if you die? I’ll be all alone, and everyone will sus me because I stayed with you all the time!” “That’s why you don’t follow me and act sus!” Needless to say it’s difficult getting him to leave your side. If you do die, he’ll start blaming your killer even though he has no proof at all. Then he gets voted out and you do tasks together as ghosts. He’s one of those people to randomly start accusing people, and will use you as an alibi. “I was with my girlfriend and brown was following us. He’s pretty sus.” Then you get spams in the chat saying “wtf.”

* if you’re both imposters, he’ll make sure to sit by you and run around freely by himself knowing you’re safe. Even in a fictional game he makes sure you’re safe... most of the time. “FUCK! FUCK!! BROWN SAW ME!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!” “LIE!” “THEY ALL WANNA VOTE ME OUT WHAT THE FUCK?!?!” Voting occurs, and you vote him out. “YOU BETRAYED ME?!?!” “WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!?! IT WOULD BE SUS IF I DIDNT!!!” He’ll start pouring and follow you around in his little ghost form, assisting in sabotage and warning you if there’s anyone around so you can kill people. If you were away from each other, he would venture on his own and sometimes follow you to see if you can double kill. “Yes! Good job, dovie, you make a great sidekick!” If you are being accused, he’ll defend you immediately, which makes it all the more suspicious. Then you both end up getting voted out.

* You’re the imposter and he’s the crewmate. You kill Hawks first. Always. You have to or else he’ll rat you out immediately. He’s very competitive if you are on opposite teams. If you do get voted out he’ll rub it in your face and laugh. “You’re so predictable, dovie. It’s not even funny!” Well, apparently he thinks it’s funny. He also thinks it’s funny seeing the pouty expression on your face. If your teammate kills him, you start laughing at him. “Hah! Yellow got revenge! Thank you yellow! Carry us to victory!” He scowls. “At least I made it farther.” If you successfully kill him, he’ll stalk you through his little ghost and scrutinize your methods. “You killed him in the open, If it were real you’d be locked away by now.” “It’s a game babe. Let me play how I wanna play. You’re acting childish cause I killed you.” “I hope they vote you out. Liar. Murderer. Imposter!” When you end up winning he’ll pout. “I’ll get you next time, baby bird.”

* He’s the imposter and you’re the crewmate. He’s very good at it. He likes to wait and kill you last since he loves to taunt you. Then he’ll lie to the entire chat and act all innocent. However, if you’re playing with friends, this plan always backfires. You don’t even suspect him because he’s so good at playing the role of an imposter, it’s almost scary. If he’s the imposter, he always wins. If he’s acting sus, you call an emergency meeting and immediately convince everyone to vote him out. It’s a desperate last effort tactic to try and win against him. Of course, he smooth talks his way out of things and you’re the one that gets booted. There will be a small little thing at the end where you are playing with friends :)

* Characters, of course yours is whatever you want, but Hawks... he loves to do stupid ass nicknames that you and all your friends and his make fun of. It’s consisted of “Sexy Bird” “No. 2 Bitches” “(Y/N)’s dick giver” “chickenman” “nugget king” “Endeavor my daddy” “Endeavorsimp” “Hawks” The last one is to try and make his fans day if he has any that play when you both just play online together. His character is almost always yellow with little goggles on top, a white suit, and a mini crewmate as his pet. Many don’t believe that it’s actually Hawks, not until he posts pictures on his social media of you and him playing together.

* Playing with Friends: You, Hawks, Endeavor, Mirko, Dabi, Tokoyami, Shoto, Twice, Shigaraki, and Aizawa (you convinced him to play) All of you are on call. Hawks invited Endeavor, Mirko, and Tokoyami. You invited everyone else. (Lets all pretend that you all are normal and there’s no heroes or villains, just all adults with jobs playing kid games. (U/N) is username by the way since you all get to choose ^^

Below is a short story I wrote for this!

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Small Key!

-(U/N) = You (Orange, Pink, Light Green)

-Sexy Bird = Hawks (Yellow)

-Dabeebee = Dabi (Purple)

-Zzzawa = Aizawa (Dark Green)

-QueenRab = Mirko (White)

-MyDadSucks = Shoto (Cyan)

-DarkBoy = Tokoyami (Black)

-Crustball = Shigaraki (Dark Blue)

-2wice = Twice (Brown)

-Endeavor = Endeavor (Red)

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“Hey everyone!” -(U/N)

“Stop being so happy (Y/N).” -Zzzawa

“Hey Doll.” -Dabeebee

“Dabi~! Your user name is your name in my phone!!! How sweet!” -(U/N)

“Hey, I’m right here. Don’t make me come up there and teach you who you belong to again pretty birdie.” -Sexy Bird

“TMI!! I don’t wanna hear about you’re pathetic sex like Keigo. Baby dick.” -QueenRab

“Language Mirko. Please. Who else is joining (Y/N)-“ -Endeavor

“YOU BITCH WE HAVE BOMB ASS SEX!!! TELL HER (Y/N)!!!!” -Sexy Bird

“Can we just start?” -Crustball

“Please.” -Zzzawa

“I agree.” -MyDadSucks

“Shoto change your name.” -Endeavor

“Fuck off old man.” -MyDadSucks

“I am ready to begin this journey of darkness and deceit.” -DarkBoy

“Me too! Oh hell no, I’m not doin’ this.” -2wice

“Guys! Shut up! I’m about to start the game so we all have to go on mute okay?” -(U/N)

“(Y/NNNNN)! You didn’t tell Mirko about our fucking amazing se-“ -Sexy Bird

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You pressed start before your lover could even finish whatever he was saying and rolled your eyes shouting from the guest bedroom. “KEIGO YOU BASTARD IM REALLY GONNA KILL YOU IF YOU SAY ANYTHING ELSE ABOUT OUT SEX LIFE!!!!” He shouted back almost immediately. “SHE CALLED OUR SEX PATHETIC!!!!” You called back. “ITS NOT BABE ITS FUCKING AMAZING NOW SHUT UP AND PLAY!!!!” The little ‘Shhhh’ appeared and it turned out you and Dabi were the imposters. You grinned widely and went towards the right of “The Skeld” map. You ran up towards weapons to pretend to do the task. You took the time to attempt to sabotage the lights like you always did, but it sadly was still loading. Then a purple little astronaut came beside you with little wolf ears. And the name labeled above was red with the word “Dabeebee.”

‘Alright Dabi... lets kick some ass.’ You thought to yourself with a grin as you finally got your kill cool down relinquished. The first thing you sabotaged was lights, and then you began your search for your lover. You went down and turned left, checking to see if anyone was in communications. No one. You then went through lower storage and up Into electrical. You were met with a dark blue color. Poor Shigaraki, your first victim. Keigo could probably wait. Dabi would back you up. You clicked the kill button on your phone and immediately jumped into a vent. You popped out of MedBay and pretended to do the sample task. Then your screen flashed.

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

*DISCUSS/ Dabeebee reported a body*

*Crustball has died*

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

“Well, there goes the crusty bastard. He sucked anyways.” -Dabeebee

“Where was the body?” -(U/N)

“It’s (Y/N). I know it is.” -Sexy Bird

“What the hell kinda evidence for you have that it was (Y/N)? I’ll kick your ass if you do it again. You weren’t near her you were with Endeavor and I.” -QueenRab

“Those are some pretty bold accusations against me my love.” -(U/N)

“(Y/N) was with me the whole time. The body was in electrical. We were together going down there and she kept going while I went to go do a task.” -Dabeebee

“It was Dabi! No it wasn’t, he’s a good guy! No! He’s evil!” -2wice

“It was Endeavor.” -MyDadSucks

“It’s (Y/N) and Dabi. You guys have to believe me! I know my birdie and she is an imposter right now. Don’t trust her.” -Sexy Bird

“Shut the fuck up.” -QueenRab

“Kei baby you soundin’ kinda sus, quickly blaming me and Dabi.” -(U/N)

“It’s Dabi and I. And no, I didn’t-“ -Endeavor

“WHATEVER ENDEAVOR WE AREN’T IN SCHOOL!!!” -(U/N)

“I’m a school teacher, (Y/N). Don’t forget I tutored you our freshmen year.” -Zzzawa

“That makes me sound old Shōta.” -(U/N)

“Discussion time just ended. What’re we doing?” -MyDadSucks

“I’m still voting (Y/N).” -Sexy Bird

“Oh yes, I love you too Kei’. So much.” -(U/N)

“It was dark. I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t know where I was.” -DarkBoy

“I’m votin’ Keigo cause he’s bein’ a petty little dickless bitch.” QueenRab

“RUDE.” -Sexy Bird

“I’m skipping.” -Dabeebee

“Me too.” -(U/N), DarkBoy, 2wice, Endeavor, and Zzzawa

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

7 skips: (Y/N), Dabeebee, DarkBoy, 2wice, Endeavor, and Zzzawa

1 vote for Endeavor: MyDadSucks

1 vote for Sexy Bird: QueenRab

1 vote for (U/N): Sexy Bird

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

*NO ONE WAS EJECTED*

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

‘That’s good no one believe Keigo. If they did me and Dabi would be- Dabi and I would be dead.’ Next turn you went left, heading down to MedBay to “finish” the samples. While you waited you checked to see if you could sabotage. A couple seconds later the oxygen depletion was activated. ‘Nice Dabi!’ You cracked a smile and left MedBay, running into a red character, Endeavor. Poor Endeavor. You successfully reached lower engine before killing the old player. You quickly passed Mirko and your face paled once you realized she would find the body and report it, seeing you leaving. You only continued in, receiving nothing from the others about a dead body. You weren’t gonna ask questions. Suddenly...

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

*DISCUSS/ MyDadSucks reported a body*

*Endeavor and QueenRab have died*

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

“Well, it wasn’t my old man.” -MyDadSucks

“ITS (Y/N) AND DABI!!!! VOTE (Y/N) OUT OR WERE GOING TO LOSE!!!!” -Sexy Bird

“I already voted.” -Zzzawa

“That fast? Who’d you vote for?” -(U/N)

“Hawks.” -Zzzawa

“WHAT?!?!” -Sexy Bird

“I agree! No wait! He’s telling the truth! No way! He’s totally an imposter!” -2wice

“You are being very loud and suspicious. You’re also only blaming (Y/N) and Dabi for no reason. You didn’t even ask where the body was. You passed me coming up from reactor. And the body was in lower engine. You were the only one I sa-“ -MyDadSucks

“I WAS WATCHIN’ SECURITY CAMS!!!! CMON MAN!!” -Sexy Bird

“I’m voting Kei’ too.” -(U/N)

“Me too.” -Dabeebee

“I will not eject my mentor. He’s taught me a lot. He’s intelligent. I believe him.” -DarkBoy

“THANK YOU TOKOYAMI!!! SOMEONE HERE APPRECIATES MY SMARTS!!” -Sexy Bird

“What smarts? You’re a total birdbrain.” -(U/N)

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

5 votes for Sexy Bird: MyDadSucks, Zzzawa, Dabeebee, 2wice, and (U/N).

2 votes for (U/N): DarkBoy and Sexy Bird

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

*Sexy Bird WAS EJECTED*

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

(Dead Chat)

“YOU WERE RIGHT KEIGO ITS (Y/N) and DABI!!!! HE KILLED ME WHEN I FOUND ENDEAVORS BODY AFTER SHE KILLED HIM IN LOWER ENGINE!!!” -QueenRab

“I was the first one to die. It’s been boring. I haven’t been doing anything.” -Crustball

“YOU ARENT DOING TASKS?!?!?!” -QueenRab

“They’re already going to win.” -Endeavor

“SHUT UP!!!” -QueenRab

“I KNEW IT!!!!” -Sexy Bird

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

You covered your mouth in shock that you actually got everyone to vote out Hawks. Aizawa was annoyed, Shoto was getting suspicious of how loud and pushy he was being to vote you out without any evidence, Dabi was your teammate so of course he’d vote with you, and then Twice just went with everyone else. You ran down first, running to admin with Tokoyami following right behind you. All the sudden your lover burst into the guest bedroom and stomped over towards your bed, spreading his wings and plopping beside you. “I knew it was you and Dabi. But nobody fuckin’ believed me.” You rolled your eyes and pretended to do the key scan while you sabotaged reactor. “Keigo, you were acting wayyyyy too sus. This is why you always lose when we play with friends. You’re too loud. You gotta be calm and persuasive. How on earth did you become an undercover agent for the FBI.”

“Shut the fuck up. I just wanna win that’s all. I also wanna be right, and I was, and now everyone’s comin’ and tellin’ me I’m right.” He smirked smugly and wrapped one of his wings around you, pulling you close to his chest while he watched you play. You went with Tokoyami and when you finally got him alone in navigation you killed him. Your thumb jerked upwards to go to the vent, but as soon as you did a Dark Green astronaut cane into view. Seeing you vent and leave the dead body. “Fuck!” You cursed and banged your head lightly in your head as the screen lit up. Your lover laughed. “Hey~ there’s still a chance we could win.” You sent him a glare. “Dabi will let us win. He’s a pro! C’mon Dabi! Help me out bro!”

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

*DISCUSS/ Zzzawa reported a body*

*DarkBoy has died*

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

“(Y/N) vented.” -Zzzawa

“What? Aizawa I literally just fucking saw you leave the body—SHES LYING!!!!” -(U/N)

“Is that Hawks?” -MyDadSucks

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE LITERALLY THE WORST GET THE FUCK OUT OR YOU’RE SLEEPING ON THE COUCH!!!! —THIS IS MY HOUSE!!!! AND I NEED THE BED FOR MY WINGS BABY BIRD!!!!” -(U/N)

“Can you guys fuck some other time? Are you sure you saw (Y/N) vent Mr. Caterpillar man. Do you have your contracts in?” -Dabeebee

“I don’t need input from a unemployed burnt looking drug dealer. It was (Y/N).” -Zzzawa

“A bit harsh coming from a raggedy looking old man.” -Dabeebee

“Can I just point out Twice has been awfully quiet? He bein’ pretty sus right now.” -(U/N)

“I’m the imposter! No I’m not! I’m a crewmate believe me!” -2wice

“He’s too stupid to be an imposter. I’ve been with him he was in MedBay.” -Dabeebee

“Yeah I was! But Hawks is already dead and ratted (Y/N) out! So it’s gotta he her!” -2wice

“Voting ends soon. I’m voting (Y/N). My apologies.” -MyDadSucks

“Agreed.” -Zzzawa

“Awe Shoto it’s okay, I love you so much. This is why you aren’t dead yet because you’re a pure angel! -I’m sittin’ right here pretty bird- no you aren’t an angel, you’re a devilish asshole.” -(U/N)

“I love you too, (Y/N).” -MyDadSucks

“Sorry doll, votes are stacked against you. Good game though.” -Dabeebee

“Yeah, fuck you Dabi.” -(U/N)

“Anytime baby, I’m open.” -Dabeebee

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

4 votes for (U/N): MyDadSucks, Zzzawa, Dabeebee, and 2wice

1 vote for Zzzawa: (U/N)

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

*(U/N) WAS EJECTED*

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

(Dead chat)

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the imposter who killed me.” -Crustball

“(Y/N) I TRUSTED YOU!!!!” -QueenRab

“Guys it’s just a game, don’t take it so-“ -(U/N)

“I STILL WANNA BEAT ALL YOU LAME ASS BITCHES!!!! ILL KICK ALL YOU’RE ASSES!!! JUST YOU FUCKING WAIT!!” -QueenRab

“Mirko please calm down. You’re being loud and obnoxious.” -Endeavor

“(Y/N) is right, even though she killed me. I applaud her devotion to the role. She outsmarted us well.” -DarkBoy

“TOKOYAMI!!! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE!!!! -HAWKS GO GET YOUR OWN PHONE STOP YELLING AND GRABBING MINE!!!” -(U/N)

“HAWKS YOURE NOT DOING YOUR TASKS?!?!” -QueenRab

“HELL NO THATS BORING. I LIKE WATCHING (Y/N) LOSE! -HEY! I KILLED YOU!” -(U/N)

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

You muted yourself and stopped listening to the chat of everyone arguing, mainly Mirko to everyone about doing tasks. You wondered around and looked for Dabi, following him around and assisting in Sabotage. Warm hands roamed over your waist, and a soft kiss was placed on your temple, soft red feathers brushing over your shoulders and lightly dusting over your leg. “Someone’s getting cuddly.” You announced quizzically, watching Dabi lure Twice into comms before killing him and running out. Your lovers scruffy chin rested against your shoulder, his head leaning against yours as he watched your screen. “Even though I’m still annoyed that you killed me, I’m proud of you baby bird. It’s difficult for people to out talk me. Especially you.”

“Was that an insult or a compliment?” You asked not really sure how to feel about his comment. He laughed lowly, the rumbled of his chest vibrating your back. “Hmm... let’s say both. Win win, yeah?” He began to kiss up your neck, the soft smacking of his wet lips against your skin echoing in your ears and making you shiver. “Keigo... what are you doing?” He hummed in dismissal of your words, rubbing your sides gently before slipping down to your hip. “What? I can’t love on you? I show my pretty bird some affection~?” Your lips set into a firm line and you gave him a look. “...you’re still sleeping on the couch.” He pouted. “So... no sex?”

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

*DISCUSS/Zzzawa reported a body*

*2wice has died*

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

“It was in communications.” -Zzzawa

“Dabi was with me the whole time. I met up with him after he finished a task in weapons. We fixed oxygen and met back up in the cafeteria and moved to reactor.” -MyDadSucks

“You’re the only one down there, and imposters can self report. You put yourself in a bit of a bind there. Mr. Caterpillar man. Guess the teacher ain’t that smart.” -Dabeebee

“I agree. My apologies Mr. Aizawa. No offense or hard feelings.” -MyDadSucks

“None taken Shoto. The evidence is stacked against me. Good game Dabi.” -Zzzawa

“Nice knowin’ ya both.” -Dabeebee

“Wait what-“ -MyDadSucks

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

*Zzzawa WAS EJECTED*

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

Victory flashed in your screen and you fist pumped the air cheering in victory. Hawks frowned beside you, pulling his hands away and tucking his wings between you, cocooning himself away from you to sulk that he had lost in a game he was supposed to be really good at. “Baby come here.” You called out to him, gently stroking his wings. He grunted and moved a wing down to glare. “...we can have sex later?” He moved his wings to wrap around you again and his arms were around you tightly, hot breath fanning slightly over your ear. “Thank you love bird~ and congrats on winnin’ the game. But...” You swallowed thickly. “B-But what...?”

“I’ll be winnin’ in the bedroom.”

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

“Did you forget we weren’t on mute anymore? Horny idiots.” -Zzzawa

“Hawks!” -Endeavor

“(Y/N) IM COMING TO BEAT HIS ASS!!! DONT LET HIM TOUCH YOU!!!” QueenRab

“I think I should get reward for winning, doll. Wanna come to my place? Forget about that birdbrained idiot. Cum for me~” -Dabeebee

“DABI THE FUCK?! Stop being sexual. It’s disgusting.” -Crustball

“I don’t understand why you’re all like this. Was there a class I missed about being weird?” -MyDadSucks

“No. They’re just weird.” -DarkBoy

“Wait we lost.” -2wice

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

END.

#my hero academia #my hero headcanons #bnha dabi #hawks #hawks headcanons #among us #my hero academia tokoyami #shoto todoroki #shoto aizawa #mr aizawa #shigaraki tomura #pro hero mirko #endeavor #twice mha #my hero academia x reader #crack headcanon

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bilgisticallykosher · 3 years

Text

5: Making Our Own Sensory Deprivation Tank

TA Masterpost | Masterpost | AO3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

My Thomas Annus discord server!

Sensory Deprivation Tanks allow you to slip away from the noise of reality. The physical world melts away to reveal a deeper understanding of one's self and the world as a whole. But they're expensive. So we made our own.

Word count: 4254

Warnings: cursing, non-sexual nudity, sexual innuendo, sexual jokes and humor, "attempted" murder, drowning sort of?, "attempted" drowning, mild body horror in the end card.

Thanks to @callboxkat for helping me to decide between songs for Janus to sing, like, over a year ago.

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THOMAS ANNUS, THOMAS ANNUS

Janus and Remus were in a bathroom with a filled bathtub. Janus was sitting on the edge of the foot of the tub, feet on the floor, Remus was squatting near the faucet, elbows resting on his knees.

"Sensory deprivation tanks have become very popular," Janus steepled his fingers together. "They provide the user with a sensation of death."

"Or life!"

"Exactly. An in-between, suspended between the two, not knowing what comes before or after."

"A perfectly perfunctory purgatory of precise pinpointed pandemonium!" Remus threw his arms up, hands flopping over.

"But another thing that sensory deprivation tanks are," he gestured smoothly, palm flat up across the room, "is expensive."

"So we decided to make our own! With half the cost and double the danger!" Remus made jazz hands, and Janus rolled his eyes.

"I don't think there's anything that dangerous here." He leaned down to peer at the label on a big bag.

"It is if you're doing it right!" Janus sighed, then turned back to the camera.

"We're doing this to bring the experience of death to you."

"And us!" He tilted his head sharply. "Mostly us." He turned to Janus. "So, what's the main ingredient in these sepfuary desperation tankers?" Joan, still behind the camera, laughed loudly.

"PFFFT!" Janus laughed, "What the hell was that?" He grinned smarmily. "Did you forget how to speak?"

"Sometimes my brain works too quickly for my mouth!" Remus pouted, crossing his arms. "It's not my fault the human body can't fully handle my genius."

"Oh is that what we're calling it now?"

"Anyway, the main ingredient?" He looked at the tub. "Aside from water, at any rate."

"Salt."

"Salt!" Remus shout-agreed, pulling out a box of kosher salt. "Fuels summoning circles, our salty nature, and," he gestured to Janus.

"Sensory deprivation tanks," he finished smoothly. "But not that kind of salt."

"I still have some of those saline packets," he gestured behind himself, jerking his thumb. "Should I grab-"

"Epsom salt," he cut off. "That's what's in these giant bags." He tapped a little on the top of one of them. "In fact, let's get this started now." He pulled on the plastic handle. It didn't lift. Janus side-eyed the camera, and casually gripped it with two hands. He tugged. Nothing continued to happen. "I'm better than this," he hissed. He drummed his fingers again in thought.

He decided. "Remus!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" He saluted.

"Lift this and open it above the bathwater."

"Absolutely!" He grinned, looking excited as he scrambled over. He grabbed the bag with two hands, and gently removed it from Janus's grip.

"We should be careful with-" but Remus had already hefted it up into the air over the tub. It hovered there for a moment, which was just enough time for Remus to summon his morningstar, reel it back, and slam into the bag. The bag tore, spilling salt all over the water. A few handfuls rained down on Janus's hat, and he glared at Remus.

"Now you're as salty as your personality!" Remus reached up, and ruffled his hand through his hair, dislodging the salt.

"Joy," he deadpanned. He turned around, his head out of shot, grabbed his hat off, and gently tapped the salt off of the brim into the water. He put his hat back on, turning back around. Remus stuck his morningstar into the bath, stirring it around.

"Do we need more?"

"Well, each bag is forty pounds," he hesitated.

"And how salty does it have to be?" Remus prompted.

"As the dead sea." Janus shot back. He raised an eyebrow, "that's the one you float in, right?"

"I float in a lot of things." Remus wiggled his eyebrows.

"Well, we want to experience death. So dead sea it is." Remus cocked his head, pulling his morningstar out of the water.

"River Styx is deader," he idly scratched his back with his weapon. Janus brought a hand up to his chin, contemplatively.

"This is true. You'll just have to take a trip there to find out how salty it is." Janus waved him off. "Do let me know the results."

"I think the only components they have there are water and the souls of the damned." He swung his morningstar back around.

"Pity. We're fresh out."

"We're out of water?!" Remus gaped. Janus snorted behind his hand.

"Put the second bag in," Remus grabbed the second bag. "Carefully." Remus pouted, and grumpily used a spike from his star to tear open a corner. Janus turned to address the camera again. "Now, we have here a small sports and action video camera, capable of being mounted and attached, with underwater capabilities," Remus started pouring the second bag into the tub. "That way, we can share the experience at home."

"Yeah! Come die with us! Via the GoPro, or whatever that long, stupid name you said was." Janus rolled his eyes, but let the matter drop. He began to shimmy his whole body up and down with the bag. Janus sighed. "Is this stuff supposed to melt? It's a little crunchy in there."

"Well you are supposed to float." He peered into the water. "Maybe you're just suspended by the rocks." Janus smirked.

"Ooh, let's just get a giant boulder!" Remus grinned back, still shimmying. "Then we'll float real good!"

"You have to still be in the water, though." Janus pointed out, amused.

"What, like all of you or just like a toe or something is good?" He shook the last of the salt out.

"Well, possibly, but knowing you, you'd just sever a toe and huck it into the water." He made a throwing motion. "And the rest of you would just be dry."

"But floating!" He tilted his head. "That toe thing is a good idea, though. They drink that in parts of Canada, could probably make a quick buck." Janus squinted, taken aback.

"They what."

"Yeah, there's some shot that they make from a gangrene toe," he explained with a flippy hand. "It's cold up there, y'know, so I guess it happens often enough. The Sourtoe cocktail!" He got the last of the salt out of the bag, and chucked it over his shoulder. "It started because-"

"Listen," Janus held up a hand, stopping him, "We've got death to experience, there's no time for toe talk." Remus pouted, while Janus peered into the tub. "Hm. It probably won't irritate our skin," Janus mused. "Incidentally, you're going first." Remus let out a whoop, reaching down near his feet, and peeling his clothing off in one upwards motion. A big black censor box popped up to cover his general genital area.

"Ta-dah!" He flung his arms up over his head.

"We discussed this, you weren't supposed to be naked," Janus frowned.

"Gasp!" He said, as opposed to actually gasping. "You're right!" He covered his nipples with his hands and turned his head away. "DON'T LOOK AT ME!" He faced his head forward again, grin present as though it'd never left. "Hey editor, put in a really big censor on my dick euphemism." The black censor box changed to an elephant head, its trunk long and centered.

"Put on. Your shorts." Janus gritted through his teeth. "I don't care if it's boxers or swim trunks, but we discussed that you would not. Be. Naked!"

"Uuuuuuuugh," Remus whined, body becoming floppy as he tilted his torso to one side. "Fine." He grumpily grabbed a bathing suit from the ground and tugged them up. They were green, and read 'Penis Inside' on the front. He crossed his arms, still pouting, "Are you happy now? I changed for you," Janus stared at him.

"Yes, I know," Janus un-tensed.

"I didn't even wear the ones with the little penii on it," Remus added.

"Yes, I know."

"That's plural of penis!"

"Yes, I know."

"Alright, let's get kinky!" He grabbed his shirt and waved it around. "We're going as full syncopatey dispatchers as possible!" Janus cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. Remus shrugged. "I got excited!"

"Well, put that on, anyway." Janus rolled his eyes, and grabbed a pair of big headphones from the side, waving them at him. Remus snatched them, holding them in between his legs as he wrapped the shirt around his eyes, tying it behind his head. The torso of the garment hung in front, down to his chest. "Not like that," Janus sighed. "Must you make everything difficult for me?"

"Tie me up right, Jaddy," he turned around, wriggling, facing the knot of the shirt towards Janus. "That's Janus and daddy." He paused, "Or jean daddy!" Janus whapped him on his head with two fingers. "Ow!" He exclaimed with a wide grin on his face.

Janus untied the shirt, taking it off completely, and rolled it into itself, so it was cylindrical. Remus was humming to himself, eyes closed, shifting from one foot to another as he waited. He wrapped it around Remus's eyes again, tying it firmly in place. He gave an extra tug that seemed a little harsher than it should be.

"You're done. Headphones on." Remus did so, lewdly grabbing the headphones from between his legs, and placing them on his head with a flourish. "And now, step into your death pool."

"Deadpool?!" Remus shouted, much louder than he needed to. "It's hard to hear you through these headphones!"

"Perfect." Janus nodded to himself. He jolted slightly, looking from Remus to the bathtub and back. "Hm. This, might be a problem." Remus began to clap far away and then closer to his face to see if he could hear himself. Janus put a hand on his chin, then looked at the camera. "Joan, do you think if he trips and falls on his way, anyone would believe it's an accident?"

"I dunno," they responded. "You think it's worth the risk?" Janus turned back to look at Remus, who clapped right on top of his nose, looked around, confused, then did it again. Janus silently looked back at Joan. "Okay, but you should probably help him anyway."

"Ugh, fine, spoilsport." He strode over to Remus, and lifted one end of the headphones off of his ear. "Alright, come on, I need to help guide you to the tub." Remus laid the headphones around his neck. "Joan says I shouldn't kill you."

"They what?!" Remus screeched, turning completely the wrong direction to look at Joan. "Spoilsport!"

"That's what I said," Janus smirked, walking over to him. "Now come here," he patted his shoulders, "let's get you dead-adjacent." And he tugged him gently by the shoulders, leading him over to the bathtub. "Left leg," Remus dutifully lifted it, "forward" and flailed his foot around until it touched water, then plunged it in.

"I got it from here, Janny Bananny," and swung himself around into the tub. Janus clapped, once.

"Bravo," he grabbed the GoPro, "put the headphones back on."

"We gettin' some tunes on this thing?" Remus asked as he adjusted them back up around his ears, sliding only one ear cover on.

"I'll see what I can do," he rolled his eyes. "Maybe I'll serenade you."

"Oooooh!" He wiggled his butt, sloshing the water around the tub. "Now all we need is some rubber duckies!" He snapped the second cover over his other ear. Janus placed the GoPro in his hands, and Remus felt around the camera. "Is this the lens?!" He shouted, rubbing his fingers over what did, in fact, appear to be the lens.

"Yes!" Janus harshly tapped his wrist. "Now stop smudging it!"

"I don't know what you said!" Remus grinned. "Hey, you know, if we peed in here you'd never know!" He put his hands behind his head, camera in hand acting like a pillow. "It's already warm! And crunchy from the salt!" He hummed. "I bet it'd taste delicious!"Janus ignored him as he prattled on, and turned back to Joan's camera.

"Alright, so, in normal sensory deprivation tanks, they're, well, tanks." Janus gestured to the open bathtub. "So what we need here is a cover to be more enclosed. Luckily, we have an actual cover." He gestured in a different direction, and the camera panned to where the empty salt bags were. "It's a bed cover. Or blanket as it is sometimes known." He went over to grab it as Joan focused on Remus again, still talking.

"I don't know, I mean! It's nice! But I'm not floating!" He was waving the GoPro around in wide figure eights around his head. Janus grabbed the blanket, walking back over to Remus. "I think I'm supposed to be floating! Maybe the water needs to be seasoned more?!" Janus hefted the blanket, placing it on top of Remus. "I'm not exactly feeling anything! Not even the pee that I may or may not have added to it!" He pulled it over his head.

"There we go," Janus smiled calmly. "Perfect enclosure."

"Hey, it's darker in here!" The blanket by Remus's head moved as though he were moving his arms underneath it. "Am I being smothered?! You're doing it really badly!" Janus left the camera screen. "I can still breathe and everything! Also it feels really soft and blanket-y!" Janus came back on, dragging a chair with him. It was a padded, wheely one. "Is this a blanket?!"

"Oh my god, shut up and experience death!"

"What?!"

"Shut up!"

"Oh okay!" Janus sighed out in relief. Then, "So what am I supposed to do now?!"

"You're supposed to be not talking, so that you can get the experience of a sensory deprivation chamber, so shut up and deprive your senses, already!" Janus was breathing harshly from the force of the yell.

"... I'm bored!" Janus let his head fall back in frustration. "I'm gonna play with the GoPro!" There was more splashing, and movement under the blanket. "Okay, viewers, so here I am, getting my secretaries desolated." Janus massaged his temples, before turning to the camera. The background music swelled, and Janus took on a deeper, more narrator-like voice.

"So, in theory, the idea of a sensory deprivation chamber is that you become unfocused on your senses." Remus continued talking to the GoPro in the background. The music stopped, and Janus's voice went from more intense to more casual. "Not just the usual five that you're taught in school, either, which is a bunch of garbage, by the way," the music resumed again, getting louder as he spoke, "and instead, you focus internally, and if you concentrate your efforts, really feel the sensations of death, you'll be able to improve yourself, to make yourself, unstopp-"

"HEY JAN!" Janus physically flinched, turning towards him. The music stopped. "I'm not feeling any sensations of death!" Janus stared at the bundle of motion under the blanket.

"Are you telling me you can hear m-"

"I feel like I'm in soup!" Janus sighed and put his head on his hands. "But chunky, because the salt's still intact! Is it supposed to melt?! Because it's not! Here, I'll get a close-up!" Janus was mumbling under his breath. "Hey, can this GoPro go in water?!" Janus sighed very heavily, and lifted his head, rolling his eyes.

"Yes."

"Down she goes!" Janus snorted, startled, and it turned into a laugh. There were heavy swishing noises from within Remus's bathtub cocoon. "I'm giving the GoPro the experience of a tsunami!"

"Okay, tell you what," Janus put his hands up as if in surrender. He walked back over to the chair. "What if I soothe you with some water-themed white noise?"

"We have a white noise machine?!"

"No," he sat down. "Shh-"

"I can't hear the CD!" He brought up a hand to his headphones.

"Put that hand back!" Janus said sharply. "You'll feel the low vibrations. And it's not A CD," Janus crossed his legs. "I'm making the sounds myself. "Shh-"

"CA-CAW! CA-CAW!" Janus jumped, eyes wide, startled.

"This isn't a group activity!"

"Just trying to help!"

"Help by shutting up!" He glared before attempting again. "Shhhwshhhhh! Shwoooshhh. Shhhhhhhhhh!"

"Are you going to do more than waves?!" Remus shifted under the blankets. "Just waves is boring!"

"More like wave goodbye to your life if you don't shut your mouth," Janus mumbled under his breath. He sighed. "I was getting to that." He rolled his neck. "If only you'd been more patient and shut up, you would have heard that."

"Neither of those sound like me!" He cackled from underneath. "Go back to the death threats! That was fun!"

"No!" Janus resumed the homemade ocean sounds. "SHHHHHHH! SHHHWSHHHH! SHHHWWWSHHHHH!" He was a bit angrier about it than before. "Hhhhwwwwhhhoooo……… blup, blup blup."

"This is nice!" Remus shifted down lower. "I'm feeling pretty dead, I think! Dead people love the ocean! Especially if they've been eaten by something in it!"

"Wee-ooh," He ignored him, continuing to imitate a foghorn. "Weee-oohhh." Then a loud sucking noise interrupted him. Surprisingly, it did not come from Remus. "What was that?" The noise continued its wet slurping. "Did you kick off the drain?"

"Maybe!" He kicked a foot around a bit. "I'm not sure! Hypothetically! How would one put it back with no hands?!" There was a bunch of splashing near Remus's feet. Janus sighed, propping his leg up, and putting his head in his hands.

"You get it back in?" He raised an eyebrow, expression bored.

"No! It's just sucking on my toes!" Sure enough, there was a prominent sucking sound. Remus moved his leg up. "See?! Out!" He put his leg back in the previous position, "In!" The sound got softer. Moved his leg, "Out!" The sound got louder. "In!" He let a second pass. "Out!"

"I get it, yes. Please-"

"In!" Janus huffed, and slouched over, rubbing his face in frustration. "Hey! You ever pretend like you're a submarine and you've got a peniscope checking out the enemy territory?!"

Janus looked like he gave up hope. Not for the video going well, just in general. He got up and walked off-screen. Remus was still talking. "Don't shoot your torpedoes off too early, though!" There was a pause. "Torpeendoes!" He laughed to himself a bit. "I think that I'm gonna check out enemy territory myself! Why rely on your peniscope for something you can do yourself!" He raised up, still covered by layers of fabric, "Going down!" He sank down into the water all the way, swishing and splashing, the blanket starting to bunch up and swirl around.

Janus walked back on-screen again, clearly not in his normal outfit. He had a swim cap on his head and bathrobe on, untied. He frowned when he walked in, and looked around. He walked towards the tub, peered in…

And just under a minute after he submerged, Remus broke the surface, pulling the shirt blindfold off as he came up. "Woo!" He splashed Janus considerably, causing him to flinch and take a few steps back.

"Hey!" Remus flipped his hair back, making even more of a mess.

"Don't go underwater. It hurts." Janus's robe fell open, revealing his yellow shorts with a green snake coming around a leg, its head by the front of them. "... You sure those aren't mine?"

The video cut.

When it came back on, it had transitioned to Janus in the tub, eyes closed, relaxing back as much as possible. He had the headphones already in place.

"If I find out you peed in this, I will kill you."

"You don't gotta worry about that, my deceitful delicacy." He reached down for a shirt that was by the outside of the tub. "You just worry about relaxing, and being dead!" Janus sighed, and Remus dutifully tied the shirt around his eyes. "Today's safeword is mungbean," he gave an extra tug around it, and grabbed for Janus's hand, opening his fingers before he placed the GoPro inside.

"I thought you were trying to hold my hand," Janus let the camera roll around his fingers.

"Aw, you know nothing gets me in a romantic mood like soaking in a death bath." You could see Janus's eyebrows constrict slightly.

"Is-"

"Now now, don't worry about anything." He patted his hand. "This'll aaaaallllllllllll be over soon." Janus seemed to frown from behind the shirt. He went about tightly tucking Janus in, from his head to his feet. "Whoops, got your dick a little bit. That's okie dokie, though. Okie dickie." He ducked down to grab something.

"I'm so glad that you're telling me what I'm okay with," Janus moved the camera to his other hand, deadpan.

"You're welcome!" He stood again, and partially unrolled some duct tape off the roll he'd grabbed, with a shhhhhhk! "Now, move your head up a bit, I want to make sure this is all secure." He began wrapping the duct tape around his head a few times.

"Holy crap, Remus!" Joan accused, slightly horrified, before they laughed a little. Remus tore the strip off with his teeth, licking his mouth as he patted the tape down so that it stuck. "Delicious. Now, what's your favorite song? Serenade yourself!" Janus hummed in thought before he started up.

"Let's face the facts and come to terms, it's time to realize," Remus brightened.

"Great, now slowly lean your head back and keep going." He put a hand on his head.

"These goals are only merely hope we quickly leave behind,"

"These goats are hoes you subtly love with roving eyes!" Remus joined on top of him, singing off-key. Janus thwapped his hand and continued on his own.

"They're lies," Remus put a hand on his head, "lies," he pushed softly, "lies," he led him down to the water level, " lies," his ears were now underwater, "lieeeeees!" He kept pushing until his entire face was underneath the surface. The last held out note came out, bubbling. Janus quickly sat upright again with a gasp. "Wait, wait, hold on now. I feel as though something's a little off, here." Though his face was covered by a t-shirt, it had a distinct pinched look to it.

"Naaaaaaw, you're fine, you're good," he put his hand on his head again, and pushed insistently until Janus had sunk down again, this time he stopped before he submerged completely. "So? You feel closer to god?" He purred, double checking he was completely tucked in.

"If by closer to god, you mean about to get murdered, then I think so."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," he nodded, distracted, as he gently caressed his head. "And are you feeling relaxed?" He rubbed his thumb back and forth across his nose and mouth. "Relaaaaaaaaaax."

"Okay well, now I'm feeling less relaxed by the second." He wriggled. "Did you tuck my arms in?"

"Naw, come on. Think relaxing thoughts. What's the best sleep you've ever had?" He drummed his fingers on the top of his head.

"Any one but this one."

"Just let go. Relax. Sink into it." He started pushing on his head again, and he went down those last few centimeters. Remus did not release him. Janus began to twitch. Then harder, writhing and twisting to the best of his abilities. "That's it, that's it," he stroked the top of his head, giving his forehead a few last pats as he finally stopped his movements. "Boy, he was a heavy one!" Janus suddenly rose up fully, breathing harshly. He tore down the shirt from his face, cursing. He stared at Remus, panting. Eventually, he took in enough oxygen, and said,

"My lips burn."

"Neat! How would you rate your time at the Thomas Annus Death Tub Experience?" He held two thumbs up.

"You know," he tilted his head, "I think if there hadn't been someone trying to kill me, that might have been relaxing."

"Yeah, what an asshole, we should fire that guy."

"Felt kind of like what I imagine the womb is like." His hand drifted through the water.

"I miss the womb," Remus sighed wistfully.

"Yes. Very dead in there."

"We were all dead before we were born." They stared at the camera. The clock resumed its ticking.

Endcard:

Remus was naked again, censor in place.

"Alright, editors!" He pointed towards the camera. "It's time for hard mode," he gyrated his hips for emphasis. "Ready? Let's go!" He pointed at the camera, "Something long!" The censor turned into a giraffe's neck. "Something small!" A giant termite nest in the dirt, tall and bustling with tiny termite activity. "Something sweet!" A candy cane, hook facing up, tied nicely with a fancy bow. "Something salty!" A big, twisted soft pretzel.

Remus cracked his knuckles until they cracked off, each hanging by a thin strip of skin. He shook his hands out, and they realigned, fusing together again. "Something curvy!" A corkscrew popped into censorship existence. "Something straight-" a long yardstick, "-as my thinking!" The yardstick flickered, instead a graph with a sin curve charted on it hovered in its place. "Now the same thing, but straight as in orientation!" The graph turned rainbow colors.

"Now just let my dick hang out!" A picture of a plate of spotted dick. Remus looked around excitedly. "Did that work?" The pudding wobbled in a distressing way. The camera cut off.

-----

Taglist: @smileyzs @robinwritesshitposts @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @itsabsurd-and-terrifying @potatsanderssides @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @ananonsplace @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @a-fandom-trashdump @hekking-happy-nonsense @legendsgates @10moonymhrivertam @idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @nyamafriend

#sanders sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #joan the camera operator #ta chapter #my stories

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insufferablelust · 4 years

Text

Pretty little thing, (II)

Warnings : this series will be filled with Adult content, upcoming smut, murder, psychotic behaviors, dark kinks, traumatic events, manipulation, gaslighting, and isolation, interrogations, Daddy issues, abusive parents, blood, Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader.

This is a dark fic, there might be stuff that could trigger you so please read with caution and/or don’t read it if you are sensitive to the stuff in the warnings.

MASTERLIST.

——————

like i’m a flower,

that’ll rot at a speed of light,

like i’m a ripe peach,

that’ll bruise in the daylight.

——————

“Y/N Y/l/N put your hands on the air and hand us your weapon!”

Y/N’s brain thrummed against her skull, her lips quivered as she laughed loudly at the situation she was under, her hands up after she has tossed her gun and knife, turning around with knuckles all bloodied and face tear stained with angry red splotches— the sight truly psychotic.

“You’re making the biggest fucking mistake, Professor.” She chuckled, head tilting to the side at the gun cocking beside her head. Her eyes never leaving Spencer’s as Luke cuffed her scarred wrists behind her break and guided her outside of the house to the police car.

Spencer watched as she continued laughing from inside the car, her eyes never leaving his as his eyes stayed with hers. “She’s truly a narcissist huh?” He was blurred out of his thoughts by JJ’s voice beside him, His brain can’t seemed to let go of her voice chanting ‘mistake’ over and over inside his head.

“Spence?” JJ tapped his shoulder, jolting him from his mindless thoughts of a girl, the girl he arrested, the girl in the car, the girl who killed so many others, the girl who worked with cat, the girl— that looked innocent.

————

He stared at her through the window pane, he saw her bandaged knuckles, her head hung low and the wrist twisting around the cuffs. The more Spencer looked at her, the more he connected the dots, the more her remembered every foggy memories that surrounded her, every time cat mentioned her name before.

“Y/l/N isn’t dumb Spencie—“ Cat rolled her eyes, “She’s quite smart actually, when i’m dead she wouldn’t dare to betray me. do you know why?” She challenged, licking her lips in a cocky manner,

“Tell me.”

“Because i live inside her, every time she breathes it’s because i allow it— even after i’m dead, she’ll keep doing what she does best, killing our fathers.”

Our fathers,

“Our fathers.” Spencer blurted out suddenly, alerting Emily who was about to stepped into the interrogation room. “What?”

“Our fathers, that’s what cat said when i visited her last to talk about Y/N.” He whispered the last part, still unable to connect all the dots. It’s like when it comes to Y/N, he freezes, he stopped breathing, his mind stopped thinking. Its like he had known her for so long— that she was someone special to him.

“Let me talk to her..” He pleaded, fingers gripping the door tightly— eyes begging Prentiss to just let him talk to her. “Spencer you’re—“

“Conflict of interest, yes but i— i know her better than anyone here okay, give me a chance. She trusted me more because she knows me.” Emily’s eyes switched between Spencer’s and Rossi’s, looking for the best decision. “You know the protocols, just get her to talk, if things get difficult in there i won’t hesitate to pull you out of this case.” She stated firmly giving the files over to Reid, which he thanked her for, before stepping into the room.

———

Y/N felt him before even seeing him, she felt the warmth of his presence before she even had the knowledge of touching him— his body heat. Yet, Y/N knew it was him, he’s here with her. She kept her head low, closing her eyes tightly as she felt the low rumble of his voice as he sat down on the opposite chair.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She smiled, the sound of her name— her real name rolling from his tongue brought her some peace and quiet. Stopping her raging mind from all the torture she endured. It was 5 seconds of heaven, she concluded.

“Y/N, I’m—“

She giggled before he even muttered a third word, she giggled loudly but her head kept hanging down, she could already paint his expression inside her mind— she had studied him in great details for years, she knew every twitch of his face without even looking at him, like it was imprinted deep in the core of her memory.

“Is there something funny?”

He used that tone, the tone that made her shivered whenever he uses them on class, when he had scolded her because she was late, when he corrected her because she ‘accidentally’ did all her homework wrong. The very same tone she adored, that made her nerves twitched and seared her core. So she shrugged, licking her lips as if he could see her.

“Y/N Y/l/N, born November 17th 1985, only daughter of Amethyst Ren who died giving birth to her, and William—“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Her head snapped, looking at him with a sharp glare— a glare so sharp that it could cut through the glass. Spencer remained calm as he sees the way her fingers twitching together, and her skin on her wrist digging painfully against the cuffs.

“Be careful not to hurt yourself, as i was saying.. William Y/l/N who was a—“

“Fucking stop.” Her skin digs through the cuffs painfully as tears spilled out of her eyes— her tone was raging with anger.

Reid looked at her briefly before continuing with a straight face, trying so hard not to show any emotions, “A local businessman, apparently he raised Y/N—“

“You have a fucking death wish, Professor.” The blood dripped onto the interrogation table as the sharp cuffs nicked the skin, her legs bounced hard against the desk, a sign of agitation and pent up frustration.

“He raised Y/N dutifully and he—“

“He was an abusive fucking prick, who destroyed my life.” Y/N screamed loudly, her hand banging the table as Emily marched in to the room, trying to pull Spencer out, “Reid, out.” She said sternly but Spencer refused.

“He was a fucking coward, do you know what he did, professor? he broke me— damaged me into this this fucking monster” Y/N let out a sinister smile as she fought through the sobs, “My mother— my mother, he killed my mother. He killed her because do you know what men like him wants? what gets him off, professor? some young girl to torture,” She’s full on laughing now as she stopped the bounce on her knees and stilled completely,

“My mother was his precious girl, yet she’d grown too old so- so then he had me— and it was time for her to go.” She tilted her head to the side, “I was perfect for him, his personal punching bag..” Y/N closed her eyes briefly before opening them again and smiled sweetly at Spencer and Emily, “I never killed anyone, not once, i might be insane— might thought about killing, but there’s only one person i want to kill, and i haven’t gotten the chance yet.” She leaned in closer to Spencer as her waist bent over the table,

“I’m not Cat, Professor. I’m smarter than her, you know that. She thought she manipulated me, made me her personal clean up puppet. But, look at us now— she’s underground and i’m up here with her favorite man.” Y/N bit her lips, eyes pierced at Spencer’s “If you want to Arrest me, arrest me. But you know damn well, i’m just an innocent and beaten up daddy’s girl. My hands are clean.” She sat back down as her eyes flicked to Emily and smiles sweetly,

“I want a lawyer, please and thank you.”

————

“We’ve got enough evidence to arrest her, her fingerprints was all over Cat’s victims.” JJ voice rang through the room as the others kept on discussing about Y/N lawyering up,

“Yeah, but why is she lawyering up now? she knew about the evidence, she left them on purpose at the latest crime scene 2 years ago.” Rossi said, his eyes trailed over to Spencer who hasn’t said much after the interrogation room, eyes glued to her file and seemingly deep in thought.

“Right, it doesn’t make sense. She could’ve stayed hidden if she wanted to— she managed to do that all this time. Why expose herself to Spencer now?” Tara chimed in, head shaking at the puzzle thats in front of them, confusing each and every one of them. Whilst Spencer’s eyes blinked repeatedly as he remembered, the words that left Y/N’s lips,

“My hands are clean.”

“You know that, Professor.”

“Beaten up Daddy’s girl,”

“Daddy’s girl.”

“She never killed anyone.” The table went silent as he spoke up, his eyes darted to the picture of William on the board then back to his team,

“Spencer—“ JJ was about to cut him off before he murmured,

“The reason why she exposed herself now is because she found her ultimate target, the one she has been after all these years, she was right— she’s way too smart to fall into anyone’s game even Cat’s. I’ve seen her ability enough times to know how observant and smart she is combined with the fact that She has managed to stay hidden all these years when Cat was too unstable to see through my lies when i arrested her,

That’s why we never found any evidence except the fingerprints— we profiled that this splatter of blood..” He pointed to the picture on the board and took a deep sigh “was an act of someone cleaning up, all of the murder site said the same things about her fingerprints— clean up.” He finishes, whispering the last word.

Spencer looked up to see his teammates all shocked, especially JJ who has her palm on top of his shoulder trying to say something but clearly couldn’t, then his eyes flicked to Emily as she stood and walked over to him,

“It’s not impossible.” She stated, leaning into the table as she used her palm to support her body, “Emily—“ It was Alvez this time whom raised the doubt,

“No i mean think about it, The blood, the way she stayed hidden and her sudden appearance, her behaviors— we profiled her as the exact epitome of Cat Adams but what if that was only her cover up. If she was truly a narcissistic psychopath she wouldn’t have the ego to deny any of the murders— she would be proud of it. What if, all these time we weren’t looking for a killer, but the misunderstood puppeteer?” Emily grabbed a photo of her and placed it on the table,

“Well then who’s her actual target?” Penelope bit her lip nervously as Spencer placed a photo of,

“William Y/L/N, her father.” Next to her’s.

“Garcia—“

“On it!”

————

Taglist and Requests are open! Message me or simply send in your asks!

( @drreidshands , @annestine , @addie5264 , @maybankslut , @lolitstiana , @imjusthereformggcontent )

upcoming updates : TAAHM VII, Blurb Requests!

#Prettylittething #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds smut #dom!spencer #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #dark!fic #dark!spencer

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ladyanaconda · 3 years

Text

Helluva Dad Vol. 3: Nerd

As I mentioned in the first one-shot, the events of the Harvest Moon Festival took place before Murder Family in this AU, so the discovery of the angelic weapon went differently. In other words, this prequel is where the canon divergence begins. Enjoy!

*HB-*

It's gonna be nice working with him. I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P.

Moxxie couldn't get those words out of his head. Striker working at I.M.P.? As much as he hated to admit it, he could actually picture it. The cowboy was an ace at… Well, everything, as far as he knew. This didn't mean Moxxie was happy at the prospect of having him as a co-worker, however. Striker had done nothing but rub Moxxie's lack of physical strength and 'balls to his face; heaven, even Striker's five-year-old kid made fun of him in a more innocent, child-like manner.

Moxxie felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach; if Striker does join I.M.P., where would this leave him in the company? Blitzo's the boss, Millie the powerhouse, and Striker might as well replace Moxxie as the weapons expert, not to mention become an additional powerhouse. Where would that leave Moxxie? Besides, he wasn't sure if he wanted to work with the guy who humiliated him via song, the one thing Moxxie thought he'd at least be better at.

Joe and Lynn never liked Moxxie for Millie from the beginning. 'Too much of a wimpy fag', he overheard them say more than once. 'He can't handle something as simple as gathering eggs from the chicken coop*, how is he going to protect or provide for Millie?' Striker, on the other hand, was strong, imposing, fearless, manly. They treated him more like a son-in-law than Moxxie even if the cowboy wasn't wedded into the family. Moxxie was no fool; he'd seen his parents-in-law subtly trying to get Millie alone with Striker and have them spend time together, practically screaming 'dump your wimp of a husband and fuck this real man'.

These thoughts crossed Moxxie's mind as he climbed upstairs. Everyone else was outside, which was good because he wanted to be alone right now.

There was a thump in one of the rooms. Following the sound out of sheer curiosity, Moxxie noticed a white glow filtering underneath the door. Hey, isn't it Striker's room? Moxxie has a policy against entering someone's bedroom without permission, but his spite towards the cowboy imp and curiosity got the better of him.

He found little Jake on the bed. The impling looked frightened for a second until he noticed it was only Moxxie. "You not daddy!"

"What do you go there, little fella?"

"Nothig!" Jake spread out his arms in a feeble attempt at hiding whatever thing was on the bed. Moxxie only had to take a few steps forward to peek over Jake.

"Oh, my crumbs!" There, in a long case, was a beautiful black rifle with silvery designs that almost seemed to glow with a heavenly light. "A genuine carmine crafted blessing-tipped rifle."As Moxxie tried to touch it, Jake snapped his teeth at his hand. "Hey, watch it!"

"No touch! Daddy's rifle!" Jake growled adorably. Geez, the brat's got his father's awful character.

"How… How in the fuck did he get one of these?"

"Why don't you ask me, little dude?" Moxxie and Jake froze, though the latter seemed more like 'shit I'm in trouble' than 'shit I'm dead.

Striker was leaning against the door, arms crossed. He didn't look very happy.

"Boy, I thought we'd talked about this already," he told Jake sternly.

"I… I just wanna touch it, daddy." Jake whispered timidly.

"W-Why do you have this?! Mister!" Moxxie asked nervously. "You are aware this kind of weapon can kill…"

"...Demon royalty?" Striker finished grimly.

"Yes, that."

"Duuh! That what it for, dummy!" Jake stuck his tongue at Moxxie.

"Kiddo, Mrs. Lin is baking the lava berry pie you like so much. Why don't you go take a look while daddy has a word with Moxxie?" Did Striker just call him by his name? Jake yelled happily and climbed off the bed, speeding out of the room.

Moxxie felt a shiver down his spine as Striker closed the door shut behind him. "Well, I'm… I'm relatively concerned by your possession of this…" he stepped back warily as the cowboy walked towards him with a devilish grin, eyes glowing as he came to a halt right in front of Moxxie, silently staring down at him. "I'm also glad my instant dislike of you has been validated!"

Neither moved for a while. Then, against Moxxie's expectations, Striker gently moved him aside to gently run his fingers along the weapon's side. There was a sad, almost nostalgic look on his face.

"I cherish it, you know. It used to belong to someone who was very dear to me. Nowadays I rarely use it, though. So it's more like a memento." Moxxie was quite surprised at the emotion in his voice.

"Then you have used it."

"Well, I wasn't always a farmhand, little fella. Let's say I'd make a living as a hitman." Striker sat down on his bed, eyes on the rifle. "Whenever people wanted someone dead, they'd call me. Kind of what you guys do at I.M.P., but down here in Hell." He sighed. "Then my… priorities shifted."

Moxxie was about to ask him what he meant when he spotted a small box full of toys. "...Jake."

Striker nodded. "When Jake was born, I realized that kind of job endangered both my and his life on a nearly daily basis, so I had to retire and find a safer job. It's not as exciting as the thrill of shooting people's brains out of their skulls, but it puts bread on the table."

Moxxie wasn't sure what to say. Tentatively, he sat down next to Striker, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He wasn't pushed off, so he guessed it was okay.

"You've done a decent job, you know. He's a good kid… Most of the time." he murmured the last part.

An awkward silence followed until Striker spoke again. "So, Blitz said you're I.M.P.'s weapons expert."

"I am. Why, is it such a surprise for you?"

Striker shrugged. "What can I say? You don't give that impression, wimp."

Offended, Moxxie pulled out his pistol. "Walther P.38!"

Striker raised an eyebrow. "Looks pretty anemic compared to the peacekeeper."

"It's not about size, you know. It's about stamina."

"Is that so?" Striker smirked. "What can you tell me about the Thompson submachine gun?"

"Fifty rounds a drum, twenty-five a mag!" Moxxie said in excitement. "It's a good weapon, but its cocking mechanism always jams. The Russian P.P.S. personal assault weapon is a better choice."

"Maybe, but in the end, it's the experience that wins the day. It's not all about firepower."

"Indeed! I mean, even the best gun in all of Hell can be wasted in the hands of a newbie."

Striker laughed and gave Moxxie a strong pat on the back, unintentionally sending him to the ground.

"Not bad, wimp. Looks like you are good at something, after all."

Moxxie blinked in disbelief. "Was that a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it, little nerd." Striker chuckled, smirking. "You still have a long way to go to earn my respect."

"Who're you calling a nerd?!"

"Bowtie, fragile arms, pushover, you're afraid of a mere rooster. Should I continue?"

"For your information, I'm not afraid of the rooster!" Moxxie crossed his arms. Striker raised an eyebrow. "...I simply don't like the idea of getting infected with the avian flu, thank you very much."

Smirking again, Striker closed the case and walked out of the room. "Nerd."

"I'm not a nerd!"

*HB*

*A callback to the scenes in some movies when someone goes to the chicken coops to collect the eggs and is attacked by the rooster. Come on, you can't tell me you don't see this happening to Moxxie. And if living roosters are a pain, just imagine one straight from Hell.

#helluva boss #helluva boss fanfiction #striker helluva boss #helluva boss au #helluva dad #helluva striker #oneshot #canon divergence #helluva boss moxxie #helluva boss jake

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tartrazeen · 4 years

Text

How DBH Leans Way Harder Into HankCon Than Father/Son

Listen.

I love you people who make Hank and Connor that whole platonic family thing. Totally you do you, that's fine, don't even worry about it.

For real - this isn't some ship war. It's a game. I even got some dad vibes from Hank before - oop, nope, we just went full daddy, didn't we. So this is not pitting two ideas against each other to see which one's better. They're both good. I massively prefer one, but I'm not saying either one is wrong.

I *am* saying the canon is geared towards their relationship being HankCon.

Putting my last analysis aside, this game's got a consistent pattern to it: the relationship comes to a conflict.

Can a machine be a person? Central conflict of the game. The relationship is between humans and androids externally, and androids and machines internally.

Can an android ever be a mom? Kara's story, with a conflict of "What's the worst that can happen?" It certainly leads to some bad decisions, and - just... the *worst* doctor's appointment.

Can an android be a human's son? Markus' story with its conflict of, "Is that bad?" And here, we get some subtle hints that Leo's not too thrilled, like when Markus gets shot in the face (#defundthepolice amirite? no seriously, wtf guys). Unlike Kara, Markus doesn't have a little "Family" bar showing for Carl, but not only do they openly say what they think, Markus' extended conflict towards this is questioning whether he was more than a slave in a gilded cage or a privileged rich kid now playing War Leader.

Can androids be a threat? There's some demonizing of Markus if he inexplicably gets mad that his people are being killed to death (with a beautiful analysis on that tone policing by dbh-rambling) , but yes, that relationship's in the Deviant Leader's story as Pacifist vs. Non-Pacifist.

Can androids love?

Oh boy.

The question of whether androids can be somebody's son (or daughter) is only actively and directly discussed in Markus' story, and in Kara's from the parent's POV. Family doesn't come up in Connor's except for one big moment and one big parallel: when Hank tells Machine!Connor that every time a Connor died, he thought of Cole, and when Daniel at the start has his whole thing of being replaced after thinking he was part of the family.

Those do not incite a conflict.

For Markus, Leo makes fun of the idea, leading to one of the plethora of opportunities we have to sad-kill his dad or allow Markus stand up for himself.

Zlatko mocks Kara and kidnaps Alice, and while Kara won't leave the house without her kid in tow (who warned you like a billion times to leave girl smh), the race is on to find this chick. Ralph straight up tries to force it if you go that route, again putting Kara and Alice's bond to the test. Same thing at the recycling plant and crossing the border: how far will Kara take this 'mom' thing is the conflict.

Ain't nobody pullin' that shit on Connor.

He's vaguely interested in Hank's 'personal problems' as it pertains to the case. Hank might open up a little about Cole. It's not discussed until the very end, and the theme of 'son' doesn't enter the picture until we *see* a picture at Hank's house, whereupon Connor says nothing about it. That's different from the other storylines, where that family theme appears (and gets talked about) pretty much right away.

Connor doesn't even connect with the idea of replacing a member of a family when he's facing off against Daniel at the start. He basically calls Daniel dumb for it, pre-Zlatko style. His one interest in the Cole situation is saying it's not Hank's fault, with his sincerity adjusted per the Machine! or Deviant! path. He's focused on Hank and Hank alone.

You know what else he's focused on?

"Androids can't feel anything."

"They're not 'technically' emotions."

"I'm a machine and machines don't want anything."

Markus doesn't question whether he can be in love. Kara is maybe surprised by the emotion of those two androids at Rose's house, but her love for Alice is out in the open several times. That's the one thing they feel confident about, and North is as quick to accept it (as the only relationship able to go to 'Lover') as Markus is if Kara explains to him why she's helping Alice. Even as he's mocking her, Zlatko doesn't question that Kara *thinks* she loves her daughter. He uses it against her. That's why these aren't conflicts: they're facts more than anything, taken for granted.

... You know who ain't takin' that shit for granted? And is instead - like, actively challenging every speckle of the concept?

"*smack* What am I to you, a statistic? A 'zero', a 'one' in your fucking program?"

"People are fucking insane. They don't want relationships anymore, everybody just gets an android."

"Those two girls wanted to be together. They really seemed in love."

And like Zlatko with Kara, we have 60 being all goddamn, "Now it's time to decide what matters most: him or the revolution."

That is a conflict.

Kara, Luther and Alice go to a happy little theme park and frolic on a merry-go-round.

Markus has a heart to heart with either Carl at his deathbed or just with Carl's grave, but always to seek advice.

Connor and Hank go to a fucking strip club advertised in their *first* chapter together and get into a bitchy quarrel about, "WHAT ARE YOU REALLY CONNOR, I SHOULD NOT HAVE ADDED A GUN TO THIS CONVERSATION (for real #defundthepolice)."

That is the relationship.

So to recap:

Testing Markus' family relationship with Carl incites a conflict with Leo about who Carl's son really is, eventually putting their lives on the line.

Testing Kara's family relationship with Alice incites a whole host of conflicts that put their lives repeatedly on the line.

Testing Connor's family relationship with Hank incites... uh... a 53-year-old bear calling a 30-year-old weaponized twink 'son' as Connor bleeds out in that one ending you get where you do nothing for two minutes you monster, or - at best - spurs Connor to follow the platonic love of putting a father figure over *the entire revolution and existence of his newly self-aware species* by using it to 'find each other' once Hank has to pick out the real Connor.

Testing Connor's romantic relationship with Hank incites Hank to *fucking kill himself* if you two aren't friends, him punching Perkins in the face if you *are* friends, variations on one your asses dangling off the side of a building or getting dropped/pushed right off of it, and having it listed as a full-on betrayal if you dare to stay a licky blood machine.

Look - Connor said it himself:

"I'm whatever you want me to be: your partner, your buddy to drink with, or just a machine programmed to accomplish a task."

*You do you*. If you see them as family, just make sure they're happy for me, please (and that you remember that even on the good ending, Connor has to murder a minimum of two guards to get through CyberLife so show his ass some respect).

... but.

But.

I mean, when even Clancy says they weren't father and son - not to appeal to the actors' POV or anything, but if that wasn't on the menu when Bryan whipped out a little "I adapt to human unpredictability" wink (that he apparently had to fight David Cage for) then whoa - that makes the idea of Hank and Connor's relationship being platonic less canon than the evidence *for* HankCon.

Besides that, if Markus and Kara *and* Connor are exploring those angles of platonic android and human families, in and around the willingness to explore overt romantic relationships among the androids, who do we have to explore a romance between a human and android?

;)

#detroit become human #hankcon #hannor #hank x connor #hank anderson #dbh connor #dbh markus #dbh kara #my stuff #good job tartra

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: In Bad Waters - part eleven Word count: ±4650 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part eleven summary: Now that Laura if after Zoë, the boys have to think fast in order to save her. Will they realize she’s in trouble? Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls! Gif isn’t mine. If you are the creator or know who made it, please tell me so I can credit you.

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

Stunned, Sam stares at the door of room seventeen. Dean walks down the hallway with his suit jacket hanging over his shoulder, not having noticed anything unusual. But when he doesn’t hear his brother’s footsteps in his wake, he turns around. “Comin’ or what?” Sam places his hand flat on the door, trying to detect any sign of movement on the other side. He feels like something is off, and shifts his gaze to his brother. “The door just slammed in my face.” “It’s Zoë; what did you expect?” Dean returns, being smart. The younger Winchester isn’t convinced, however, and he pounds on the wooden surface. “Zo?!”

But the huntress doesn’t hear him. She seems isolated, as if the grand hotel room is soundproof. The wall lights flicker, buzzing as they do, the designer lamp in the corner doing the same. Every hair on the back of her neck elevates, both from anticipation and the freezing temperature, which causes her exhaled breaths to float in the air like miniature clouds.

Zoë swallows apprehensively, her gaze frantically darting across the room for anything she can defend herself with, while the disturbing image of Laura stares up at the only living being in the room. The little girl’s neck is clearly broken, her head oddly tilted to the right. Skin so pale it hints to a shade of blue, black bruises noticeable on her arms, legs and cheek as well. Laura glares at her next victim, her eyes hidden in the infinite darkness of her sockets. Water drips on the ground from the edges of her dress and soaked through hair, leaving puddles on the floor. The constant drip mixes with the sound of static from the television and the running water in the shower.

Slowly, Zoë backs out. “You don’t want to do this, Laura.” “Or what? You will kill me?” she returns, way too clever for her age. Little smartass, Zoë can’t help but to think. The huntress is the one who needs to start with the smart talk, though. It might be her only way out of this clusterfuck. She needs to distract the ghost, and pray to the God she doesn’t believe in to make it out of this predicament.

“Why are you doing this?” Zoë asks, as calmly as she can muster. “They didn’t stop it,” Laura says, anger causing her voice to tremble. “They all knew, but they didn’t stop it.” “Why are you haunting me then?”

Carefully, Zoë glances aside from the corner of her eye, at the backpack on top of the drawer. She knows it contains a bag of salt and it might just be her only way of saving herself, or at least stall long enough for her hunting partners to realize something is wrong. She could use a Winchester shotgun right about now. That rock salt shooting two barrel would be handy. Laura’s response triggers her to snap her gaze back at the ghost.

“I’m haunting you, because you are trying to stop me. You didn’t want me to kill Mrs. Dawlson.” Zoë backs out further until she feels the drawer against her spine. While talking, one hand noticeably tries to find the bag of salt in the backpack. “Mrs. Dawlson was a good person, with a family. Now I know how you feel about the person who did this to you--” “- Yes, you do know how I feel. Don’t you, Miss Sullivan?” The spirit turns her head in an abnormal angle, the bones in her neck snapping. “You know how hating someone for what they did to you feels like. That’s why you became what you are.”

Startled, Zoë stares at the little ghost. How the hell does she know all this? Is she playing mind games here? It’s scary how Laura stays so well mannered, and Zoë has trouble looking her in the eye any longer. “I know what your father did to you was cruel and unforgivable, but this isn’t you, Laura. You need to let go,” Zoë tells her. “I can’t. You understand that. You can’t let go either. Someone hurt you, Miss Sullivan. It didn’t just happen, he knew and still didn't help you. Don’t you want to kill him?” Laura pressures. “Oh, I do,” the huntress replies honestly. “But grown ups realize what consequences there are to murder.”

In a blink of an eye, Zoë throws a hand of salt at Laura’s face, which causes her to scream and flicker on and off, but only for a moment. Zoë hastes for the door and turns the doorknob, but Laura still has control over the environment and the barrier between her and the Winchesters stays shut. Sensing her presence, the huntress turns around and sees Laura coming at her rapidly, as if she’s watching a video on fast forward. Right under her nose, the child stops and stares up at her angrily. “That wasn’t very nice,” she hisses.

Suddenly, Zoë feels herself being lifted off the ground, as light as a feather. There is nothing delightful about it, though, because a second later, she smashes into the wall on the other side of the room. “That made me feel angry,” Laura continues, her chin propped down as she gazes at her next victim from under her brow.

Zoë struggles up, but before she can make an attempt to flee, Laura makes a sideways gesture with her hand, sending her victim flying. With a loud bang, she collides with the hard wall on the other side of the suite, the plaster crumbling as she lands on the drawer which breaks through its leg, causing the huntress to glide off the surface and fall down on the floor. Dizzy, she recovers as she feels blood dripping down her cheek, coming from a laceration above her temple. As soon as the black spots disappear from her vision, she glances back up at the disturbing young girl. She points her little finger at her, as Zoë starts to feel an increasing pain in her chest. “Now I’m going to kill you, nice and slow. Just like Daddy killed me,” Laura sing songs eerily. Frightened, Zoë stares at the girl. Before she can blink, the ghost has a death grip on her neck and works her against the wall.

Her efforts to escape have been hopeless so far and with no weapon to defend herself with, the odds are not in her favor. She tries to back out further, but unfortunately she can’t move through walls just yet. It doesn't happen often, but the huntress is in deep trouble. Images of the murder scenes of Laura’s previous victims flash before her eyes; she might end up just like them. In one last desperate attempt to get out of this situation, she closes her eyes, trying to calm herself. In a split second, she pictures Sam Winchester and concentrates. Then she cries out his name.

“SAM!!!”

“Did you hear that?”, Sam asks, alerted on the other side of the door. Dean walks up to him and listens carefully. “Hear what?”

“SAM!!! Get me out!!!”

“There! You heard that, right?” Stunned he stares at the door, then he hits it with his shoulder. “Zoë!!” “I didn’t hear anything. Did you eat mushrooms for lunch or something?” Dean questions, confused. “Dean, you have to trust me! Laura is in there!” Sam cries out.

Without pausing, his younger brother tries to bust the door with a kick, but the lock will not budge. For a split second Dean watches his brother, who keeps going at the varnished wood with everything he’s got. Apparently, he’s not kidding and it puts Dean in hunter mode instantly. It’s not even instinct, more of a reflex. He would follow his brother blindly, he trusts him without a single doubt in his mind. “What is going on here!”, a member of staff shouts at them from the end of the hallway. “Call 911, now!” Dean turns to him and starts running down the corridor. “Where are you going?!” Sam glances aside, out of breath. “I’m gonna try from the outside! Keep going!” Dean commands before he rushes around the corner.

As fast as he can, Dean sprints back to the main hall of the Hampton Inn. While bolting down the stairs to the first floor, he searches for the car keys in his pocket. Very well aware that every second counts, he crosses the lobby towards the parking lot. Quickly, the hunter opens the trunk of his Chevrolet and takes out a shotgun, loading it skillfully. He doesn’t go back inside, instead the hunter runs down the hotel complex, counting the room windows as he passes them.

For once, the universe is helping him, because under Zoë’s suite a van of maintenance crew is parked on the sidewalk. Agile, Dean hoists himself up by the mirror with one hand, climbing onto the roof of the vehicle. Inside, the child ghost has her hands around Zoë’s neck and forces her all the way up to the ceiling, the huntress’ body slack. Laura is about to snap her neck, but then Dean catches her attention. The spirit tilts her head slowly and looks Dean in the eye, then she opens her mouth further than anatomically possible as her eyes sink back in the back of her head.

Knowing no fear for the entity, Dean aims and releases the slug filled with rock salt. It shatters the glass instantly and flies straight through the ghost’s head. As sudden as she appeared, Laura evaporated into thin air with a scream. Zoë collapses down the wall as Sam busts in right at the same time, the vicious spirit no longer locking him out. He stares at his brother through the broken window for a split second and then notices Zoë on the floor, just a heap of fragility. “Zo!” Sam rushes to her and kneels down. Carefully, he cups her face with both hands and taps her on the cheek gently, after which she slowly comes to, coughing. The hunter breathes out, relieved when she opens her eyes. A groan escapes from her lips and she squints as the pain dawns on her. She leans against the wall, out of breath and clearly experiencing discomfort. Blood runs down her neck from a wound on her head, her nose is also bleeding. Several cuts are spread out over her arms and face; she’s a mess.

No wonder, because when Dean steps through the window, he notices that the entire suite is trashed. The table has shattered somewhere during the struggle, glass is scattered everywhere. The couch has toppled over on its back, the TV ripped from the wall and the screen distorted. He crouches down next to the wounded woman, who clamps her hand at her side and takes a careful breath, which obviously hurts her.

“Hey, take it easy.” He puts his hand on her shoulder as she rests her head against the wall again, biting back the pain. “I think I cracked some ribs,” Zoë moans. “What else hurts?” Sam carefully sweeps away her dark hair to reveal the bleeding cut underneath. “The better question is; what doesn’t?” she comments, as she closes her eyes for a second. “That little fucking brat...” “Cursing and angry already. You’re gonna be fine, I see,” Dean jokes, lighting the mood.

Zoë looks up at him, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. He might say so, but she doesn’t feel so good. Carefully she touches her nose, from which blood still drips to her lips and down her chin. “Broke it?” Dean checks. “I don’t think so.” She sniffs. “I swear, if she kills me, I’ll haunt her sorry ass, ten years old or not.” Dean grins at that comment and looks away, but Sam isn’t set at ease yet. “Where’s that ambulance?” he asks his brother. “Ambulance?” Zoë repeats, annoyed. “Yeah, you know. One of those minivans who hurry injured people like you to a hospital,” Dean nags. The huntress glares at him and then turns back at Sam. “I don’t need no ambulance.” “Nope, you’re absolutely fine. You don’t need our help either,” Dean rubs in with a sarcastic tone. “Shut up,” she mutters.

The oldest of the brothers rights himself, smiling victoriously, because for once the huntress doesn’t have a comeback ready. He moves to the doorway to meet the authorities, sirens already blaring in the distance. As soon as Dean is out of sight, Sam cocks his head at Zoë, astonished, his eyes piercingly demanding answers. “I heard you,” he whispers. “I figured,” Zoë responds, carefully removing the blood from her upper lip. “No, I mean...” He pauses and glares over his shoulder to make sure Dean is really gone. “I heard you in my head. How the hell did you do that?”

Zoë glances at the young hunter. It’s clear as day that he’s intimidated by this bizarre turn of events. Honestly, she was just as surprised when she felt Laura’s grip on her loosen. Why she did it? Instinct perhaps. It was her last attempt to connect with anyone outside this room. How she did it? She’s still trying to wrap her head around that one. “I don't know, I just…” She presses her palm against her forehead, this headache is killing her. “That bad, huh?” Sam sighs sympathetically. “Dude, I feel like I’ve been used as a boxing bag.” She pulls back her hand and is unpleasantly surprised by the crimson on her fingertips.

Sam cannot stop worrying, she can see it. Not just about her, but about this telepathic intermezzo they had just a few minutes ago. “It’s probably nothing, Sam. We’re both sensitive to this psychic stuff. It’s no big deal,” she tries to comfort. But the concerns don’t wear off. Not that he can ponder on it for long, though, because a moment later, paramedics rush in.

Some time later, Zoë is uncomfortably sitting in the back of the ambulance. The police have also arrived; several cars are parked on the sidewalk. Officers and forensics are examining the crime scene for traces of the assaulter, which of course, they will never find. The paramedics took care of her head wound and several other minor injuries the huntress suffered. Her face feels like Mohammed Ali himself threw a few punches at her, and to top it all, Detective Lee is standing right in front of her for the third time this day.

“Are you sure you didn’t see anything?” Lee checks, after he wrote something down in his notebook. “Not a thing. It attacked me from behind and knocked me unconscious,” she lies, without batting an eye. “It?” The officer looks up at her, a bit indignant by her choice of words. “You know, he, she, whatever,” Zoë mutters, pretending to be casual. Lee watches her for a moment and puts away his notebook. “Off the record,” he starts. “Do we need to put a lot of effort in this case or can I tell my sheriff that the FBI is taking over?”

A little surprised by the new direction of the detective, she looks back up into his eyes, then chuckles. He has a point; right now they are busy questioning each other instead of actually solving the case. They are working the same terrain here and neither of them are helped by that matter. “I’ll spare you some trouble. We’ll take over,” Zoë states. He nods as a sign of agreement, realizing that this is probably for the best. They have no sense of direction on this bizarre case and every lead they do have runs directly towards a dead end. The FBI has more experience with this kind of abnormal. “We’ll be at your service if needed. I hope you’ll catch our killer, this town can’t afford more crimes like these,” the officer ponders. “Neither can I,” Zoë half jokes with a huff, rubbing at the dried up blood on her chin, which is starting to itch. “Good luck,” he wishes her. “We’ll keep in touch.”

Zoë watches him head back for his car as he gestures to his partner to follow him, who was asking Dean some questions. After all, he did demolish a hotel window with a shotgun, but it seems like he’s cutting him some slack. Good for him, because even though she doesn’t like the idea, he did save her ass.

The oldest of the Winchester boys remains standing on the sidewalk. He takes a moment as he looks around. The PPD start to gather their belongings and the first police car leaves the scene. Sam is in the room, looking for leads. Then Dean spots Zoë inside the ambulance and saunters over. “Hate those damn interrogations,” he mumbles as he leans against the left door of the van. “Right there with ya, but they won’t bother us anymore,” she states. “Good riddance,” he comments as he watches the cars leave, then he turns to Zoë, observing her for a moment. “How do you feel?” “I got my ass kicked by a ten year old. How do you think I feel?” she returns snarky.

Dean nods in agreement, being able to imagine that, a smirk adorning his features. “At least you didn’t get killed,” he argues. “You’re the first to survive an attack like that.” “True enough,” Zoë agrees.

Silence follows, the huntress taking the opportunity to take in the guy in his mid twenties. The suit he’s still wearing looks good on him. At first sight you would think he’s comfortable in one, but the loosened tie gives him away. The warmth of midday plus the action, caused beads of sweat to form a trail along his hairline, his skin shimmers. His strong features stand out against the blue sky. With his lips slightly purged, he watches the scene, the sun catching the apple green of his irises. Zoë might not be able to stand the older Winchester brother, but he certainly is handsome.

She isn’t the type of person to apologize, but does realize that his quick thinking saved her life. Strangely enough, that never happened to her before. She never needed to be saved, she was always able to take care of herself. Or is it that there never was anyone there to save her, and she had a little luck with getting out of sticky situations?

“Hey, Dean?” She hesitates. He turns his head to face her, waiting for what she was about to say. “I just wanna say, uh...” she speaks with difficulty. “You kinda saved my ass out there, so--” “Don’t mention it,” he responds before she finishes her sentence.

Dean watches her and smiles slightly when she averts her gaze. Seems like she might start to realize that she can’t always make it on her own. He relieves her from the confronting words, though, he knows it’s difficult to say them out loud.

As the huntress slips off the gurney, she flinches and puts her arm around her side when her ribs ache. Dean tries to make eye contact. “Sure you can hunt like this?” “Of course I can. I had worse,” she snaps, the peaceful moment gone in an instance. Dean shows his hand in innocence, burying the other in his pocket. “Just askin’.”

At that moment, Sam walks up to them, hopefully with some new information. His identification hangs from his neck, so that the police still at the scene know who he pretends to be without asking. “Smart move, Zo,” he compliments, crumbling salt between his finger and thumb. “Where did you find that?” Dean asks, curiously. “On the windowsill. I always salt every entrance of a place where I dare to close my eyes”, Zoë explains before Sam can. “No idea how she got inside in the first place, though.” “She could have come in through the vents,” Sam considers. “I’ll just sleep in a circle of salt next time then,” the huntress mutters. “What did you find?” “Nothing. Same situation as the other three incidents, only you survived.” Sam claims. “I keep wondering, though; how is she able to relocate? I’ve never seen a ghost jump houses like that before, unless they are tied to an object, but you didn’t bring back anything from the crime scene, did you?” Zoë shakes her head. “No, I didn’t. The only explanation I can think of is that she latches onto the person who was there when she manifests, but even that doesn’t add up. “Did Laura say anything?” Dean wonders.

The huntress breaks eye contact with the older Winchester brother. Oh, Laura said something, alright. Something she will not forget anytime soon. Ghosts have the ability to see right through people, sometimes even read their thoughts and memories. The deepest secrets aren’t safe when the afterlife sets in. It scares her that Laura knows about her, about the demon. About John.

“She mentioned something,” she brings up, leaving the personal stuff out. “She kept saying ‘they didn’t stop it’.” “I heard her say that too,” Sam admits. “In your vision?” Dean checks. Sam confirms with a nod and turns back to Zoë. “Did you see anything else?” Sam questions.

The young woman looks away while she ponders. What other details could be of importance? By replaying the moment in her head, she tries to remember every particular detail. “Her hair was drenched,” she recalls with closed eyes. “Water was dripping on the floor. She was wet through.” Both boys frown at that. How does that fit their theories? “That doesn’t make any sense,” Dean comments. “Ghosts look like that when they went for a swim and didn’t come back up, not when they got killed in a beating. Water had nothing to do with her death, she broke her neck.” “I know, another clue of which we have no idea of what the hell it means,” Zoë sighs.

All three fall quiet, trying to figure out what they are missing. Before they can brainstorm further, one of the two paramedics approaches them. The hunters keep their mouths shut when he gets close enough to pick up on any conversation, careful not to talk about the supernatural when unknowing people are around. “Mrs. Evans? I’m afraid we have to take you to the St. Bernards Medical Center in Jonesboro,” he tells her. “What? Why? The AMMC is right around the corner,” Sam jumps in before Zoë refuses to go to any hospital at all. “The ER has been closed down, Sir,” the paramedic answers politely. “For what?” Dean likes to know.

Then two police cars rush by. A bit startled, Zoë glances around the van to see what’s going on, as another car stops. She’s surprised to see that Detective Lee rolls down his window. “Federal agents,” he greets them with a nod. “We have another one at the Medical Center.” Their eyes widen and Zoë’s jaw drops. Another one? How did that happen so fast? Dean is the first to recover from the unexpected news. “We’ll be right there,” he states.

Lee rolls up his window and accelerates. Sirens scream through the street as they drive up the road. The hunters watch the convoy take off, still taken aback. They don’t need a name, they already know who Laura killed. “Hughes,” Dean knows. “Yep,” Zoë sighs and gets on her feet. “Mrs. Evans,” the paramedic objects. “I don’t need to go to hospital. I’m fine, thank you,” Zoë ensures. The first responder insists, however. “I really recommend you to come with us.” “I’ll sign the AMA, thank you,” she returns, her tone stern yet polite. “We’ll take care of her,” Dean backs her up

Sam eyes him, unpleasantly surprised; how could he agree with that? She almost got killed by a ghost, broke her ribs and now she doesn’t even want to be checked out? When he gets a warning glare from both his brother and the huntress when he is about to object, he closes his mouth again. What’s the use anyway. They are both stubborn as hell.

Moments later, the paramedic returns with the Deny Medical Treatment form, which Zoë signs under her false name. Leaving the paramedics behind, she shuffles across the parking lot of the Hampton Inn, reluctantly accepting a supporting shoulder to lean on offered by Sam when he detects she’s still feeling dizzy. “You’re nuts, you know that?” Sam scoffs. “Completely aware,” she answers, this not being the first time someone calls her crazy. “You’re not alright, Zo,” Sam presses. “You’re talking like I’m halfway dead!” she cries out. “Well, you came pretty damn close!” he snaps. “Dude, chill. I know you’re worried about your little girlfriend here, but she has to stay with us,” Dean brings to mind as they reach his Chevrolet. “Excuse me, dickhead, but I’m not little and I’m certainly not his girlfriend,” Zoë corrects, offended.

Before he can respond, Sam also objects. “Why does she have to stay with us?” “Because if she doesn’t, she’ll be alone and Laura will attack her again. We’re not leaving her out of our sight.” Dean opens the door to the backseat of his precious Impala and makes a gesture to Zoë. “Get in.” he orders. “What, in that?” Zoë chuckles as she glares at Dean’s baby inferiorly, letting go of Sam to stand on her own feet. “No thanks, I’ll take the Dave.” “You’re not getting on a bike,” Dean makes clear before she intends to head over to her black roadrunner, irritated by her tone. “It’s not a bike, it’s a Harley Davidson Road King,” she corrects snobby. “If I ride, I ride my Dave, no way you’ll get me in that car.” “That car is a ’67 Chevrolet Impala”, he counters, his face contorting after her insult. How dare she? Zoë pretends the older Winchester brother is non-existent and walks on, while Sam laughs silently as Dean grinds his teeth and watches her leave. “Wipe that damn smile off your face and get in,” the oldest orders his brother.

Sam doesn’t stop smiling, but he does get into the classic as Dean settles in the driver’s seat. Frustrated, Dean starts the engine and roughly drives up to Zoë, then he brings his car to a stop between her and her motorcycle. By this time he has already rolled down his window and now stares up into Zoë’s dark eyes.

“You know just as well as I do that riding that Harley in your condition would be close to suicide. Quit being so fucking stubborn and get in the fucking car!” he commands. They stare at each other, their eyes battling in silence. Huffing in disbelief, she averts her gaze, shaking her head as she attempts to tame her anger. How dare he speak to her like that? “Zo, c’mon. We just want you to be safe,” Sam offers, taking a more gentle approach.

The huntress shifts her focus to the youngest brother, his warm eyes begging her to just get in and stop acting tough. Of course she knows it wouldn’t be an easy ride on her bike and that being driven in a car is far more responsible than riding down the highway herself on a two-wheel vehicle. It’s admitting this to Dean that she detests. Nevertheless, Zoë lets out a sigh, thick with annoyance. Reluctantly, she reaches for the door-latch, but she’s not willing to give in without having the last word. “I thought you said it was a ’67 Chevrolet Impala,” she recalls, using air quotes, as she sits down in the back seat.

Dean rolls his eyes, ignores her comment with difficulty, biting the inside of his cheek to distract himself. As she slams the door, he accelerates. While they exit the parking lot of the Hampton Inn, Dean once again realizes how badly he wants this case to be over, because if Laura does not succeed, he would like to break Zoë’s little neck himself.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read chapter twelve here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean fanfiction #Sam fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Dean Winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #SPN #Dean x OFC #Sam x OFC #Dean angst #sam angst #Dark!Supernatural

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jacks-jester · 4 years

Text

Mine.

[Jerome Valeska x Reader]

Words: 2,136

Warnings: Extreme aggression, someone gets the shit beat out of them, murder, toxic jealousy traits

Requested? Yes / No

Summary: After your childhood best friend and long time crush is broken out of Arkham alongside you, and a few other inmates, you have to adapt under Theos watchful eyes. What will happen when one of the female escapees becomes a little to close to Jerome for your comfort?

A/N~ Thank you for the request! Anon I’m definitely am willing to write smut for Jerome, I’ll just need a bit of time to sort it out since I haven’t dabbled in smut quite yet. I’ll definitely keep that other request in mind though!

Autumn leaves, the type that crunch underneath your feet in the most satisfying way, their fiery colors blinding your vision yet so beautiful you can’t look away. Thats what always came to mind when you thought of your best friend Jerome Valeska - the spunky, albeit a bit psychotic, ginger, carnie kid. You and Jerome had both grown up traveling with Haly’s Circus, the two of you becoming friends the moment you met each other. Your parents were acrobats, you and your mother specializing in Lyra aerial work. You and Jerome could always be found causing mischief around the carnival grounds: loosening a few safety net ropes, loosening the board for the knife throwers Wheel of Death, sharpening the sword swallowers knives a bit too sharp.

You were kids, and kids liked causing trouble, you and Jerome both craved attention. So often were your parents the center of attention, it was rare they’d pay you any mind at all aside from aerial practice. You hated your parents, maybe the hatred was undeserved but nobody could deny that they were neglectful to say the least. Jerome on the other hand, he had every right to be livid with his mother. She was a whore, a drunk, and abused Jerome to no end, even letting her brother get it on the action occasionally - Jerome's uncle preferring scalding soups and oils to the hitting Lila normally took up when harming Jerome. You and Jerome never separated form each other, always there for each other through thick and thin.

When news broke of Jerome's arrest, you went totally, and completely ape shit, blinded with rage at the fact Lila and several others could get away with abusing Jerome and yet Jerome, when he defended himself, was arrested and charged. It was in that moment you decided you were without a doubt going to burn this corrupt, and wretched city to the ground one day, no matter the cost. You later on got apprehended after word broke that you assisted Jerome in hiding the body and were planning on helping him dispose of it. You didn’t know he was going to do it, but when you found out what took place you were anything but mad, instantly assisting Jerome in the clean up. Apparently conspiring to hide a murder and sticking up for a “madman” gave you a one way ticket to Arkham Asylum in this city.

You and Jerome hadn’t been locked up for long when the break out happened, blue gas being the last thing you remember from the asylum. You and seven other inmates were broken out that day, though only seven of you made it through Theos “orientation”, if you could even call it that. Jerome and you had adapted the quickest out of the group, the two of you bouncing off the walls at the newly found freedoms Theo had given to you. Overall you didn’t mind the other inmates, aside from one of them, she was the only other inmate you and Jerome's age. Her real name was Dixie Smith, about as bland as you can get, she gave herself the nickname of Trix however.

Imagine the most arrogant and obnoxious person you could imagine, the obsessive and clingy type, like a leech that just continued to fester and thrive off your energy until you were nothing but a sorry shell of the person you once were. That was Dixie, you called her Dixie purposefully to get on her nerves, Jerome even joining your petty little game of annoying the annoyer. Dixie was in Arkham for the murder of her tutor, apparently she’d gotten fed up with her math work and stabbed the teacher with her compass needle. She was a stuck up, rich, daddy's girl who was supposed to spend a two weeks in Arkham with the help of Daddy's money. She was just in these for a rebellious spurt, wanting to prove she wasn’t like every other millionaires daughter apparently. You couldn’t stand her.

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It was the day of the Maniax media debut, Jerome painting the teams name on the outfits of a few shipyard employees and tossing them off I roof. The images on the news were incredible, the police were all over the case but weren’t getting anywhere near the team. Only four of the members went out to finish the media stunt, Jerome being among those four. You and the to other girls stayed at Theos instead, Dixie whining continuously the entire time the group of boys were gone. She kept going on about how she missed ‘Her Jerome’, though she was sorely mistaken if she believed that to be true.

It was a few hours before they returned, having to be careful to escape any stray police officers. Jerome as always was grinning like, well... like a maniac when he came back, instantly taking a seat at the head of the large dining table, his legs and arms sprawled in a relaxed posture. You were about to approach him with some clever quip when you were shoved out of the way by a hyperactive cockroach of a girl, Dixie immediately making her way over to Jerome and plopping herself down in his lap, her arms wrapping over his shoulders.

You could feel you blood boiling as she sweet talking to him, though you were disappointed he wasn’t shoving her off or at least detesting her actions. However, what caused you to snap wasn’t Dixie, oh no, it was Jerome. Rather than continuing your inside joke of calling Dixie by her name, he said something that made you wish he’d just said he nickname. “Long time no see Trixie. Miss me much dollface?” You could feel your vision go green with jealousy as you entered autopilot, your body moving on its own accord. You stormed over to where they were sitting, your hand gripping Dixies obnoxious braid and roughly pulling her off Jerome and to the ground.

Jerome didn’t move, his lips only quirking into a smirk as he watched the scene unfold before him, amusement sparkling in his intense gaze. Dixie shouted in surprise, a yelp of pain emitting from her mouth as her hair was tugged on. “What the fuck was that for you fucking bitch?!” Dixie looked at you with rage in her eyes, outraged at the thought someone would dare lay a hand on her. You shrugged, glaring her down, “Is the princess hurt? Daddy isn’t gunna buy you out of this one ‘dollface’.” You spit the pet name out with venom and disgust, as if it were poison on your tongue. “Next time think a second before touching things that aren’t yours, that must be hard for you though.”

Dixies eyes made eye contact with y/n, embarrassment and frustration clear within them. “Bite me.” Y/n only chuckled in response, “Is that all you’ve got princess?” Dixie let out a scream of annoyance, flipping out a concealed blade and holding it out to y/n in a threatening matter. “Try me.” Y/n looked Dixie up and down for a moment before impishly grinning, “Alright.” Without a moments hesitation, y/n darted towards Dixie, carefully dodging each unplanned swing the cockroach made. Dixies skills with weapons were honestly laughable, devastatingly uncoordinated in comparison to the carnie knife throwers y/n had grown up around. Y/n ducked as Dixie swung wildly at her, y/n bringing their leg out which caused Dixie to tumble to the ground, the obnoxious girls knife gliding across the floor and away from her.

Y/n quickly found herself perched atop Dixie, straddling the smaller girls waist as she began laying blow after blow on the tanned girls skin. Welts almost instantly formed as y/n layed it on her, blood seeping out of Dixies clearly broken nose and busted lip. The girl underneath y/n was now screaming and sobbing at this point as her face became nearly unrecognizable. Only with Theo stepping in did y/n climb off of Dixie, stepping to stand beside Theo as the beat up girl tried to stand trying to run off without a word. Y/n decided to have one last jab as the girls back was turned, attempting to retreat to her room. Y/n leant down and picked up Dixies discarded knife, “You forgot something princess.” With that y/n put her knife throwing practice to use, the knife quickly flying across the room and embedding itself in Dixies side.

Y/n watched as Theo let out a small hum of amusement as Dixie collapsed on the staircase. Theo slowly made his was over to Dixie, quickly picking up on the fact she was still conscious. “My apologies Ms. Morgan but you’ve confirmed me and Tabitha's fears, you’re not cut out to be a part of our... operation. And you know to much which unfortunately leaves us with only one choice.” Without so much as another word, the delirious and sobbing girl was dragged out of the room by Tabitha. Greenwood began capping slowly from the opposite side of the room, “Nice work, I call dibs on her when Tabitha's done. Its been a while since I’ve had fresh meat, pork hasn’t been up to par lately.” Despite the joking tone of Greenwoods words, you knew he was serious and cringed a bit.

Your eyes flick to Jerome for a moment before looking away, instead opting to go to your room. You were only stopped a way down the hall, familiar arms wrapping around your waist from behind and spinning you around. “Gunna just ignore me after I was gone all day?” Y/n turned and glared lightly before continuing their walk, Jerome catching up to walk alongside you. “Ahhh.. the silent treatment, I only know one cure for that.” Without another word, Jerome flipped you around to face him, his lips immediately clashing against yours. It wasn't the first time you and Jerome had kissed, just in the past it was teenage curiosity induced by stolen alcohol or simply out of boredom. The way his lips moved passionately against yours, his teeth gently nipping out your bottom lip was different than the innocent kisses from before.

You pulled away slowly, your e/c eyes meeting his dark brown, nearly ebony eyes. You caught your breath, both from the kiss and the intensity in which he was now staring at you with. His signature smirk decorated his face as he looked down at you, “ That was quite a show you put on out there doll.” You and Jerome always had a strange friendship, walking a fine line between best friends and romantic. He had always called you doll or dollface, knowing it flustered you, which you supposed is why you had snapped when you heard him mutter the pet name to Dixie. You didn’t respond, only turned away in annoyance and embarrassment.

His fingers found their way under your chin, guiding you to turn and look at him. “I like when you're possessive, you always have this fire burning behind your eyes when you get mad. What's was it you said to Dixie?” Jerome feigned mock confusion and thoughtfulness for a second to annoy you. He clicked his tongue as it ‘came to him’, “Think a second before touching things that aren’t yours’ wasn’t that it?” You glared up at him as he continued jesting at you, his eyes aflame with mischievous amusement. You rolled your eyes lightly, only reconnecting with his when he spoke up again. “Doesn’t sound to bad does it? We could probably be the most badass, freakish power couple there ever was. I can see it in the headlines now: J and Dollface: Homicidal maniacs murder thousands.” You knew he was joking around but couldn't help the butterflies that fluttered around your stomach at the implication of you two being an item.

You let out a soft sigh and looked away, your arms crossed across your chest, “Don’t joke about that stuff J.” He quirked an eyebrow at you before his smirk returned, “What if it weren’t a joke, then what dollface? I only messed with here to get a rise out of you, get your attention.” You looked at him with confusion, trying to see if he was telling the truth or not. “What do you say dollface?” You didn't say anything, instead opting to pull him into another deep kiss, his hand immediately finding your waist. It seemed like you were kissing for an eternity before you pulled away, your foreheads pressed against each other, your lips staying only a few inches part. Jerome squeezed your waist lightly, pulling you flush against him. You flushed lightly as his next word came out a low, raspy growl, “Mine.”

You couldn’t help the smile that quickly made its way to your face, only replying with one word in return, “Mine.”

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[I’m gunna try to time my rights from now on.]

Time: 1 hour, 33 minutes

Not grammar reviewed yet so apologies for any typos.

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #gotham #cameron monaghan #gotham one shot

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clonesandmoans · 4 years

Note

For the soft asks!! Wrecker as a dad!!? The mere idea is PRECIOUS!?

i’ve gone into a little detail abt this here but it doesn’t do dad!wrecker justice, he deserves far more description than that (i also got carried away when talking abt des and troy sooo there’s that). i want him to father my children not just bc i want him to impregnate me but also bc he would be such a sweet and loving dad you can’t change my mind on this -jj

he is the happiest person ever abt having a child of his own, on permanent cloud nine and his happiness makes everyone around him happy

will brag to literally anyone he can that won’t put him at risk of decommissioning if they know

but as i mentioned in the linked hc list, someone mentions the fact wrecker’s hands will be bigger than the baby once it’s born and it just sends him into a panic

he has an existential crisis about it bc destroying things is what he was created to do, what he did daily, it was in his name for kriff’s sake

he didn’t want to risk hurting you or your child, he would rather jump in front of a blaster than lay a single harmful finger on either of you and babies are so small and delicate, so defenseless, what if he did something wrong?

the guys are quick to sense the change in mood and quickly go into protective brother mode, call you, and let you soothe the worried demolitions expert

and when the happiness returns, he continues to brag about how awesome his kid is gonna be and how loved they’ll be, between buir and ba’vodues this kid will never not know what love feels like

his kid will be v likely to inherit his love for animals

the first animals the kid meets are their older blurrg brothers des and troy, and these blurrgs are so damn protective of their kih’vod. they’re introduced to the baby v early so that way they’re used to it being around and learn “if dad is holding this tiny human when he comes outside, i can’t tackle him because this tiny human is fragile”

the day they met the baby, they sniff at the tiny bundle in wrecker’s arms (the blurrgs love their mama but were total daddy’s boys, so it was settled that he would be the one to moderate the introduction) and they lick the baby gently, noses nudging it softly as they acknowledge its lineage and place in the family

from then on, des and troy would destroy anyone that dared threaten their vod’ika

yes wrecker spoke almost exclusively mando’a to the boys and they knew that word meant the tiniest human they knew, the one they had to be careful with (and protect)

it was weird at first bc no one trained them to be so protective of your child, but everyone soon came to love it. with their lizard ori’vode around, that kid never doubted that they were safe

several years later your child is getting bullied by older kids close enough to home for the boys to know, and the second they hear their vod’ika (they would recognize their voice every day till they died) scream in pain, they bust out of the fence and are on a mission to protect

they don’t eat the bullies, that’s not their thing as herbivores, but they stomp and growl and get the threats away from their vod’ika. the bullies get the message and are running off as wrecker comes running from the house wondering why the boys busted out (they never did that, not in all their years)

once the sniffling child tells wrecker what happened, he’s got happy tears in his eyes because his sons had their back. it reminded him of when he was way younger and how other clones would bully tech

the two of them ride the boys home where you’re glaring at the broken fence but are more worried abt the boys

wrecker tells you the story and you get teary, going to press kisses on your blurrg sons and they nuzzle into you just like they did when they were babies

they love their mama and their family

but anyways back to wrecker

he is a human jungle gym when it comes to his kids, human and blurrg alike

so much rough housing with des and troy it’s wild. they do learn that dad has limits, and mom has even more than him

usually you’re standing to the side holding the child while wrecker plays rough with the boys. when the three of them are tired of their playing, they’ll all three walk up to where you were and kiss and lick you both

wrecker is the “good cop” and has trouble saying no to his kid bc he went without so much as a kid, he doesn’t want his kid to miss out on stuff

but wrecker honey it isn’t a good idea for a five year-old to know how to wield a knife, they might stab someone during recess

his discipline compass (besides your glare) is ba’vodu hunter

if the thought of hunter’s reaction if young wrecker did the thing was negative, then he didn’t let his kid do it

also crosshair gives advice to the kids on literally anything, even some things that children shouldn’t know (this consists of weapons training, mando’a curses at one point, The Murder Glare, etc.)

but he’s also an asshole, the kid will later come to learn. it balances out wrecker’s happy-go-lucky nature pretty well

tech is the one that it takes the longest to bond with. he cares abt his brothers but he never had someone that needed to be looked after in that way. he was the baby of the four brothers and he never had someone that needed him to be a big brother or role model of any sort

but then he hears them say his name as their first word and he’s suddenly #1 Ba’Vodu and will let no one take that away from him. brings it up every time cross or hunter say they’re the favorite uncle

the whole batch will support the kid in anything they do and wrecker will be the one shouting the loudest in solidarity and pride

#jj #soft sunday #wrecker #clone trooper wrecker #vodka aunt #this is so soft #des and troy #i now have blurrg oc’s #oh my god #this is not something i thought would happen

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abduct-me-helen · 4 years

Text

Class 108's Apocalypse Field Trip | Chapter 4.

“So, are we going to talk about it? Or….” Martin asked, looking at Jon with an expression he found he couldn’t decipher. The chatter of class 108 filled the comfortable silence that would usually occupy them on their journey.

“About what?” Jon avoided the question, turning his head back to check on the rest of the class. They’d originally formed two lines, headed by Jon at the front of both and Martin at the back. That had quickly fallen apart, and now they were more of a…blob, if anything.

Martin gave him a look. “I still don’t know how you’re smiting things here! I was about to ask you before we came across the school, but I decided it was best to wait until we calmed down a bit.”

“I-I killed it. I have the power, so I…so I killed it.” Jon turned his head away, facing decidedly frontwards.

“Yeah, but like, how? I’m-I’m sorry, I just don’t understand what actually happened.” Martin gestured, confused and frustrated.

“I-It’s hard to explain. We’re coming upon a domain of the,” he grimaced, memories of dirt and choking and pressure momentarily overtaking him, “buried. I would really rather-”

The sound of knocking cut him off, and the squeak of hinges made everyone silent. Static crackled, and Katie, ever alert, got out her knife just before Rosie silently directed everyone to draw their “weapons.”

Jon didn’t know what a pencil sharpener would do to the distortion, but he didn’t want to find out.

Martin turned, confused at why the quiet had set in. “What-”

“Look down, Martin.”

“Oh.” He paused, startled. “Wait, what?”

“No one get to close!” He called, running his hands through his hair and sighing. “Hello, Helen.”

“Oh, Hello! In a better mood now, are we? Feeling safer now that you know how to kill? And you’ve got a whole gang with you! How exiting.” Her eyes seemed to light up, literally.

“YEET.” Tabitha threw a pencil sharpener at Helen, but her body seemed to twist and absorb it in impossible ways, making Tabitha’s head hurt. She shook it off. “Stay away from us! Begone thot!”

The rest of the class began to recite various vines in agreement.

“GET REKT!” “YOUR MOM’S A HOE!” “WALK AWAYAHAYAHAYHAY”

Martin facepalmed. Jon exhaled, forcing down the urge to scream.

Helen blinked, then her mouth pulled into an impossible grin. “You’ve got quite a crowd here, don’t you Archivist?”

Jon narrowed his eyes. “Touch them, and I will end you.”

Helen laughed and echoing laugh that hurt his ears. “Oh, Archivist. You really have grown! But no, I’m here for a chat. We are friends, aren’t we archivist? Allies?”

He gritted his teeth. “Sure.”

Martin butted in. “Will you tell me how he did it?”

“Martin-” Jon protested.

“He just keeps on being all vague about it.” Martin complained. Helen seemed to light up.

“Oh goodness. You see what you’ve done to the poor boy, Jon? He’s coming to me for answers.” She cackled, and Jon glowered.

“Shut up.” He said.

She giggled. “It is very satisfying though, isn’t it? Teasing the vague information? You can see why Elias got a kick out of it.”

“Elias?” Rosie questioned. “Isn’t that your boss?”

“That’s Eyeball Daddy’s sugar baby.” Tabitha told her. Rosie made an ‘ah’ noise of recognition.

Helen cackled in delight. “That’s what you’re calling him? Oh, I like you.” She grinned, and Tabitha made an awkward face. What was she supposed to do, when she’d somehow won the favor of an eldritch door person?

Take it like a champ, I guess, she thought.

“Don’t.” Martin said protectively.

“Don’t what, love?” Helen asked, batting her eyelashes. (Literally, bats flew out of them).

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, stay away from them.” Helen pouted as Martin finished.

“But you aren’t any fun.” She said, her mouth curled downward in mock sadness.

“Look-just, just explain. Please.” Martin changed the subject, imploring her to alleviate his confusion. Jon glowered, but stayed decidedly still.

“Well,” she began, sporting a sharp grin, “We’re all here, Martin. The Stranger, the Buried, the Desolation, all of us. But the Eye still rules. All this fear is being performed for its benefit. And so, there are now exactly two roles available in this new world of ours: The Watcher, and the Watched. Subject, and object. Those who are feared, and those who are afraid. And John, well-he is part of the Eye. A very important part. And he’s able to, shall we say, shift its focus. Turn the one into the other. And for those of us whose very existence relies on being feared, well: to be turned into a victim destroys us utterly. And very, very painfully.”

A silence fell over everyone, before Cypress broke it.

“So, what you’re saying is, the clap of his ass cheeks alerted the Eye?” He questioned, ginger curls bobbing as he tilted his head.

“Eyeball Daddy.” Raphi muttered.

Helen sported a look of delight, before cackling once again. She wiped a tear from her eye, and Rosie noted that it was the color of a highlighter. As it fell to the ground, the grass it came in contact with seemed to glow.

“You really are fun!” She declared gleefully. “Archivist, for someone so dour you certainly have lively company. Who are all of you then?” Her head twisted unnaturally in interest.

Elliot instinctively looked to Rosie, and shrugged when he met her eyes. Her own were narrowed in thought, before she shook her head. Helen grinned.

“Oh! A smart one. But no, I’m not a fae and you are, regrettably, protected by our Archivist.” She sighed dramatically.

Jon ran a hand through his hair. “She’s right.” Helen lit up. Really. She glowed.

Tabitha, ever curious, tilted her head. “I’m Tabitha. Are you with the smexy weed?”

“The smexy weed?” Helen asked, unapologetically amused, “whatever do you mean?”

Cal let out a short laugh and Katie rolled her eyes.

“The one that makes you high.” Elliot intoned (un)helpfully.

Martin groaned. “Wh-you know what. I’m just going to leave it.”

Helen was grinning now. “Yes! I’m with the Spiral, or the smexy weed, if you prefer!”

“Dope.” Elliot said, and Rosie raised an eyebrow.

“Wait a second,” Martin spoke, putting his hands up and turning to Jon, “why were you being so cryptid about it anyway? It doesn’t seem very complicated so I don’t know why you were being so coy about-”

“Because I’m ashamed, Martin.” Jon cut him off, sighing and clenching his jaw.

“Ashamed?!”

“Yes! Ashamed of the fact that I just-destroyed the world and have been rewarded for it, the fact that-I can walk safe through all this horror I’ve created like a…fucking tourist, destroying whoever I please. The fact that I…enjoyed it, and…the fact that there are so many others that I want to revenge myself on!”

A pall of silence fell over them.

“Mr. Sims?” Cypress spoke.

Jon sighed. “Yes?”

“You said the fuck word.” Cypress informed him solemnly. The rest of the class nodded.

“That’s what you take from that?!” Jon said exasperatedly.

“Well, I mean, about what you said, I actually think you’re good on that front.” Cypress said hesitantly.

“What?”

“Yeah, I, I, I think we should go for it, get our murder on!” Cal exclaimed. They’d been silent nearly the entire time, naturally a shy person and even quieter when scared. Rosie raised an eyebrow, and Tabitha cheered, slinging an arm over their shoulders.

“Yes Cal! You go!” Tabitha high fived them.

“I agree with that.” Martin spoke, surprising Jon.

“How-what?” Jon said incredulously.

“Yes Martin!” Helen cheered, delighted by this new development.

“Th-this isn’t like it was before! We’re not talking about innocent bystanders in cafes here, John; these things are-th-they’re just evil, plain and simple, and right now they’re torturing and tormenting everyone! If you want to stop them and have the power to, then-then, then yeah, let’s do it, let’s go full Kill Bill!”

“I-I haven’t seen it.” Jon breathed in surprised.

“Oh, Martin, I am so proud of you. Can I come too?” Helen asked ecstatically.

“No.” All of class 108 intoned.

Helen pouted. “So mean! I take it back, you’re no fun at all.”

“Coming from you, I would think that a good thing.” Rosie pointed out as Sydney nodded her agreement.

Helen sighed dramatically. “Fair, fair. I think I’ll take my leave, now. Don’t be a stranger!”

The creaking of the impossible, yellow door signals her exit, and Tabitha’s eyes widen.

“Guys!” she exclaims, face bright with a new, disastrous idea. Katie groans preemptively. “We should do a Tiktok with her!”

Regrettably, Tabitha’s idea was immediately shut down, and they soon continued on their path until Jon came to a stop, gritting his teeth.

“We’re here.”

He’d explained that they’d have to cross through multiple nightmares in order to reach the Panopticon, along with the statements he’d have to give. Though Sydney had wondered, she hadn’t asked if he knew the whereabouts of any of her classmates.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

No, that was a lie. Above anything else, Tabitha needed knowledge like water. She felt incomplete without it, whatever the cost of that knowledge would be. She would rather mourn a death then be ignorant and happy.

“Are you going to…?” Martin prompted, and Jon nodded, sighing.

“You should all leave while I-”

“No.” Rosie and Tabitha intoned at once, looking at each other surprised.

“Why not?” Martin questioned, wondering why anyone would want to have to listen to that.

“I…,” Rosie breathed, “you said this was about the Buried, right?”

“Y-yes.” Jon stammered, taken aback.

She sighed, tightening her side ponytail as a distraction. She often found playing with her hair gave her comfort.

“I-I can’t explain it. It’s not like I’ll sleep any easier without,” she gestured, “this.” She finished lamely.

Jon and Martin had a silent conversation, and though Jon was apprehensive, he sighed and gestured for her to sit down. He then turned to Tabitha, raising his eyebrow.

“What about you?”

“I need to know.” She said. “I-I can’t be in the dark in a world like this. I just-I need to know.”

Martin nodded, still doubtful. He gestured for the rest of the class, who were staring at the two girls like they were insane, to follow him over to (what appeared to be) a tree.

“-Better to keep him buried, neatly away.” Jon finished, and Rosie breathed out shakily. Jon looked at her, really looked, and was confused to find that she looked almost sated.

He turned to Tabitha, and she seemed the same, though in a far more familiar way. He couldn’t quite place it, but something was…off.

“Are you both okay?” They nodded at his question, and Rosie helped Tabitha up.

“Yeah, I don’t know, I just…” Tabitha hesitated, “I feel…weird.”

“Weird?” He intoned, raising an eyebrow in concern. “Not scared?”

“No-I mean, yeah, I’m scared, but…” she shook her head. “Never mind, it’s not important. Hey, why is Katie stabbing a tree?”

As it turned out, the tree wasn’t as inanimate as they’d thought, and after being chased around for a bit, Martin got separated from the rest of the class. Not too far; he could still see them in the distance, and they appeared to have killed(?) the tree.

Where did Katie get an axe?

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, when a phone rang out of nowhere. He jumped, surprised.

It was coming from the ground.

He scowled, running his hand through his hair in annoyance, before a clanking noise got his attention from the right. A metal spade just seemed to…appear. Out of nowhere.

“A spade? Really? I mean, isn’t that a little insensitive?” He questioned irritably, sighing to himself.

“Right, so we’re doing this then.”

He began to dig until he reached the phone, yanking it up. He wasn’t surprised to find that there was no landline attaching it to the other caller.

“Hello?” He asked.

“Hello. Is that Martin?”

He cursed inwardly.

“Don’t do that.” He warned.

“Not in the mood for games?” Her voice was decidedly amused.

“You know I’m not.” He told her.

“No fun.”

“Yes, well-look, I’m talking to Annabelle Cane, right?” He said, already knowing the answer to that question.

“You never gave me yours, why should I give you mine?” Martin wondered if she was being this difficult on purpose. Knowing the Web, she probably was.

“Just-what do you want?” He asked tiredly, sighing.

“To help, of course!”

“No. Thank you.” He declined sharply.

“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear this. Marcy Schroeder isn’t dead.”

“W-what?!” He exclaimed.

He didn’t know much about the girl, hadn’t even known her last name before he’d heard Annabelle say it, but he knew enough about what had happened when one of class 108’s first expeditions had wandered into the Web.

“That’s what I said! She’s been kept alive for a reason, though I don’t know what. I suspect it has something to do with the end.”

“Where is she?”

“Now, now, that’s information you’ll have to pay for.”

“With what?”

“Good question. I’ll need to let the situation play out a bit first, and then I’ll know what you can pay me. I’ll keep in touch!”

The line went dead.

“Well, shit.”

Rosie was quiet, Tabitha noticed, as she played with her hair languidly, posture tired and face blank with a subtle confusion and scowl. She walked over casually, trying to surprising her from behind, then frowned when Rosie didn’t react.

Tabitha tilted her head, then sat on the log beside her.

“You okay?” She asked, concern blindingly evident in her voice. Rosie didn’t respond.

They sat in a comfortable silence, looking out at the green tinted world in front of them. The watchful eye of the Panopticon looked back, and Tabitha gave it a challenging glare.

“Did I ever tell you about the sinkhole?” Rosie broke the quiet, not even glancing beside her.

“No, I don’t think you did.” Tabitha replied, and was silently disgusted with her own burning hunger for the information Rosie must have been referencing.

Rosie finally turned to Tabitha, chocolatey eyes dull. “When I was in middle school-it must have been fifth or sixth grade-I was caught in a sinkhole. I was buried for two days, under the earth. The Doctor’s didn’t know how I survived, but I did.”

Tabitha’s eyes were wide as Rosie continued her tale.

“The earth…moved. And not in the normal ways. It was unnatural. It tried to choke me, but I didn’t fight back. I just, let it. And I wasn’t afraid. I was,” she spoke sourly, “comforted, by the pressure. It felt like a hug, except, an important one. The earth was hugging me, Tabitha.”

Rosie’s gaze sharpened, and Tabitha’s hunger seemed to increase.

“And I let it. My parents are-were,” she grits, remembering the loss and silently wondering which nightmare they were trapped in, “amazing to me. But they weren’t tactile people by any stretch. And the earth…it was everywhere. And I think I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. A ‘medical marvel,’ that’s what the doctors said at least.

“I’ve never told anyone before, but you of all people I feel like I can tell things. You just,” she gestured absently, “have that feel about you.”

“Are you vibe checking me?” Tabitha joked, trying to ease the tension. Rosie smiled gratefully.

“I suppose I am.” Rosie responded, before growing solemn again. “I think…well, you can figure that out.” She looked to Tabitha, willing her to fill in the blanks.

“You think it was the Buried.” Tabitha reasoned, thinking to herself.

Rosie didn’t need to say anything; they both knew that what happened wasn’t possible by any other explanation.

“…we need to come up with a name for it.” Tabitha spoke to herself, and Rosie raised an eyebrow.

“I may not have been scared of being buried alive, but hearing those words terrifies me.” Rosie deadpanned.

“Aw, Ro, I’m flattered. You say the nicest things.” Tabitha cooed, and they both laughed quietly.

“…I have an idea.”

“Oh no.”

“The Great Bondage, the Choking Kink-”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough.”

“Hey! Don’t leave me here! What about the buddy system-”

#tma #the magnus archives #teacher jonathan sims #teacher!jon #apocalypse field trip #gen z vs the apocolypse #tma spoilers #season 5

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thephantomcasebook · 4 years

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Matt’s “Reasonable” Downton Abbey Movie Sequel Pitch

Since I’ve been known to take extreme flights of fancy ... maybe wedding Downton Abbey continuity to Pulp and Classic Adventure stories in the past ... this time I’m gonna pitch something that is plausible on the Silver Screen.

The Summery:

Set in the Mid-1950′s. Lady Mary Talbot hosts a house party at Downton Abbey, like the old days, before the war. However - during the party - a maid is found dead. Miles from competent investigators, Edward Pelham enlists the help of his childhood hero and older cousin, the Earl of Grantham, George Crawley. Once a famed adventurer and war hero - no one has seen or heard from him since the war ended. He has chosen solitude and exile in the seclusion of Crawley House with his young son and his faithful butler Thomas Barrow.

Together, with the help of old friends, the two cousins try to unveil the murderer that is on the loose in Downton Abbey looking to avenge an old sin from the past.

PRINCIPLE RETURNING CAST:

Lady Mary, Lady Edith, and Tom Branson - Michelle Dockery, Laura Carmichael, and Allen Leech

Lady Rose Aldridge, “Dowager Countess of Sinderby” - Lily James

Mrs. Lucy Branson - Tuppence Middleton

Anna Bates - Joanne Froggett

Thomas Barrow & Richard Ellis - Richard Collier & Max Brown

NEW PRINCIPLE CAST

Captain George “The Comet” Crawley, Earl of Grantham - Henry Cavil

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Crippled during battle while Storming an SS held Austrian Castle in May 1945, George Crawley chose seclusion rather than Downton Abbey. For the last ten years he has retreated from the world. Surrounded by Libraries of ancient texts and Medieval Chronicles - glass cases filled with trophies and artifacts from his adventures - George broods darkly over the death of his men and a betrayal by the one he loved most in Matthew Crawley’s old chair by the fire..

However, his young idealistic cousin rouses the once heroic and valiant adventurer back to action with the encouragement of his son Jason Crawley and Thomas Barrow, who believe George has sat idle too long and must become the leader and man of action he once was.

“Well, well, well ... if it isn’t Captain George “The Comet” Crawley himself. The most Dangerous Man in the whole Empire, this one was ... Once.

“Yes, I dare say, and how are you holding up these days, eh, Old Boy?!”

“With a cane.”

Ms. Sybil “Sybbie” Branson - Jessica De Gouw

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A Genius Mechanical Engineer, Sybbie was once the partner and companion of George Crawley on many adventure and stayed by his side throughout the war. However in 1943, during a mission with their SOE Commando Team in Greece, Sybbie Branson turned coat on the Allies and was revealed to be a Nazi Agent ... Her betrayal caused the unintended death of John “Johnny” Bates Jr.

Captured in Austrian Castle in May of 1945 at great cost in George’s blood and the lives of his men by her fanatical suitor and body guards, Sybbie was tried at Nuremberg for helping design super weapons for the Nazis. However, just before her execution, at the last moment, she was reprieved and recruited by “Operation Paper Clip” ... some believed sparing her life was the last thing George did before going into seclusion.

Ten years later, Ms. Sybil Darcy splits her time in Hollywood as an Oscar winning actress and a Southern California Military Base where she helps develop rockets for a fledgling American Space Program. It is only by chance that on another guilt ridden drinking binge that she awakens at the doors of Downton Abbey - her childhood home - where her International Playboy fiance was invited to Lady Mary’s House Party.

“When I’m in his arms all I can think of is home, and when I think of home all I can think of is you. I know what I’ve done is evil and can never be forgiven. And I don’t ask for it from you ... all I ask is that you wait for me ... please, don’t leave me here alone. I don’t remember what this world was like without you in it, And all I know is that I cannot live in such a world. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you, and I’ll never stop ... Never.”

Lady Marigold Fraser, “Countess of Tarahill” - Elizabeth Henstridge

During the “Battle of Britain” and “The Blitz” Corporal Marigold Crawley served as a operator and airwoman in the RAF control room. When George and Sybbie’s squadron was sent to break the Siege of Malta and fight in the North Africa Campaign , Marigold would not be left behind. Thus, she resigned commission and became a War Corespondent for her Mamma and Aunt Laura at “The Sketch” - covering George and his men’s exploits from the ‘safety’ of Sybbie’s mechanic’s hanger. Later, during Sybbie’s arch betrayal, Marigold used her media and diplomatic pass as a Marquess’s step-daughter to rescue a hunted George with the help of local resistance. She went on to cover D-Day, Market Garden, and the Battle of the Bulge while attached to a much darker and violent George and his Commandos,

Marigold was vaulted as a “Female Pioneer in Journalism”. But falling in Love with a Scottish Colonel in the British Airborne during Market Garden, she chose marriage rather than her career. But 10 years later the call of adventure is stirred in the societal matron’s blood once more upon her reunion with best friend George and a Mystery to solve.

“Do you ever think of it, George?”

“The war?”

“Would you think me terrible if I told you that I miss it?”

“What particularly do you miss about the Ardennes or Arnhem Bridge?”

“It’s not the places, not the snowy woods all bundled tight together in our freezing foxhole under artillery fire, or escaping Holland on rubber rafts in the middle of the night ... I miss our men, I miss ... waking up in the morning and knowing that we were apart of something, that it was you and me, and the old chaps, against the world ... I miss being useful, George. I guess, I’d rather like to feel that way again.”

Ms. Caroline Talbot - Daisy Ridley

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Beautiful, Spoiled, Clever, Selfish, and Effete, the co-heiress to “Branson & Talbot Motors” has spent her life attempting to get a rise out of her mother. As most desirable of debutantes and Crown Princess of British High Society, Caroline spends her days scheming and contriving against other society girls, of whom she loves to torment. Her nights in nightclubs spent drinking and dancing, waking up in different beds throughout the poshest London Houses.

She loathes her mother, and blames Henry’s death on George, whose Spitfire shot down the German Bomber that crashed into Henry and Bertie’s train during “The Battle of Britain”. With George and Sybbie having never gotten along with, or been able to stand, Henry - Caroline believes George plotted her father’s death.

However, her arrogance and anger is dropped only in the presence of her best and only true friend, her cousin Edward. The only person in her unhappy life of whom she knows she truly loves.

“JUST SAY IT, MAMMA! WHY CAN’T YOU SAY IT! Why can’t you just say you didn’t love him! I’m certainly not the first unloved child ever born to a widow looking for a cheap thrill! I guess I owe you enough thanks for at least marrying Daddy!”

“Oh, pipe down, you spoiled little bitch!”

“Shut up, you Nazi whore! You two ran off to have your little adventures and you never stopped to think, just once, about me!”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Here we are again! What could you possibly want more of?! Huh? You got everyone’s attention!”

“George, leave it!.”

“No, no more, mom! She got everything I didn’t! She got a mother and father, parents! You left me behind so that you and Henry could start your trendy new fashionable family! You took their side against me! You and Uncle Tom! Just so you can continue to play grab ass with your pathetic little trio! I spent years away from home, Christmases at Aunt Edith’s, all because Henry didn’t want me here! MY OWN HOUSE! And still, after all that, his brat wants more! So, what, Goddamnit!? What do you want from me, Caroline!?”

“YOU! I wanted my brother! I loved you and I needed you! And you left me with HER!

Lord Edward Robert Pelham, “Marquess of Hexham” - William Moseley

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Upright and just minded, Lord Hexham grew up on the stories of adventure and mystery that his older cousins, George and Sybbie, were famous for. At the death of his father in the war, he looked up to his cousin George as a male role model.

Thirteen years later, while on break from Oxford - he is not sure what to do with his life. Determined to save his beloved best friend Caroline from a nose dive of alcohol and sex turning into a death spiral, he finds himself at Downton Abbey - a guest of his Aunt Mary - when a murder takes place. But when the Killer leaves a message that it would only be the first. it seems everyone turns to him - as senior peer - for guidance. Unsure what to do, he goes to find his old mentor, George - who has much more experience in this kind of danger and mystery.

“I don’t know, Marigold ... sometimes I think I’m the wrong man for this job.”

“Nonsense. In fact, rising above the bias of an older sister and the person who helped raise you, I just happen to think you’re the perfect man for the job.”

“I feel ashamed sometimes. There are lads out there that don’t have two pounds in their hands. And here I am, a Marquess, leaving Oxford, to snuggle up to my big sister’s beast, because, I’m frustrated.”

“Well, they are fantastic breasts.”

“I’m serious ... I just, I keep telling Caroline that there’s more in life. But I feel like it’s all just words. Neither Mummy nor Papa were ever so ambitious. And it’s not that I want more power, how could I? It’s just ... I feel like there’s something out there, waiting for me to get into its shouting distance.”

Jason Matthew Crawley, Lord of Downton - Unknown (I don’t know child actors)

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Born in 1944 to an unknown mother of whom George refuses to speak of to anyone. Mary and the rest of the family were shocked and confused to find George return from the war hobbled on a cane and carrying a toddler that was unmistakably his son.

Ten years later the blue eyed raven curled boy attends the local Downton school, but is often pursued by high ranking academies for his extremely high intellect. But George refuses to entertain sending him away. Spending most days with Mary,Tom, and Edith, the boy is famed around the county for his Holmesian deduction skills ... and aptitude for machinery - which his father refuses to allow him to pursue. Serving as his father and ‘Uncle Edward’s’ assistant while investigating the murder, they find him a much bigger help than they thought possible.

“You listen to me, Cowboy ... cause I’m only going to tell you once. You stay away from Sybbie, do you understand me?”

“I was just saying that she’s beautiful -”

“Under no circumstance do you go near her or even speak to that woman.”

“But what does a movie star want with me?”

“This conversation is concluded, mind what I say.”

“But, Pop ... wha -?”

“That’s an order, Cowboy.”

“Ye- yes, Sir.”

#Downton Abbey #Sybbie Branson #George Crawley #Marigold Crawley #Caroline Talbot #Jessica De Gouw #Henry Cavill #Elizabeth Henstridge #William Moseley #Daisy Ridley

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frasier-crane-style · 3 years

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Artemis Fowl

The MCU’s decision to gender-swap Storm was not without controversy.

I know, like, less than nothing about the source material, although apparently this adaptation bent it over and got knee-deep into its colon, but man, they managed to make Sea of Monsters look good. At least that was an actual movie. This is like a collection of scenes they cut from a real movie.

-Both Josh Gad and Judi Dench do horrible gruff voices for some reason to disguise their accents or lack of accents or... I don’t get it. They sound ridiculous. I know I say this a lot, but they should’ve just gotten Michael Wincott!

-I guess this movie got one of those focus groups that eat paint chips for a living and they said “more Josh Gad!”, which was too bad, because he’s fucking terrible and yet he narrates more than Humphrey Bogart. There’s this frame story where he’s supposed to be telling all this to MI-6 or someone, and all I could think was what poor asshole had to listen to Josh Gad tell them about how Artemis Fowl didn’t fit in at school.

-Josh Gad trying to be a character actor instead of... whatever the hell he is... is terrible. I think literally anyone who’s been a murderer on Law & Order would’ve been better. He cannot have been the best person they could get for this role.

-This is kinda sorta trying to be a heist movie, with one of those “it all comes together!” plots, which amounts to Josh Gad constantly yammering about how Artemis Fowl’s plot is all coming together! But it’s insanely stupid. If I’m following it correctly...

A. Artemis Fowl learns everything there is to know about the fairy world, which he previously disbelieved, in three days. Yeah, his father told him a bunch of bedtime stories about fairy lore, but I’m betting they didn’t the fairies having hovercraft and laser guns and shit, so don’t think that gets you a free pass, movie.

B. Artemis figures out the site of a fairy visit and by complete coincidence a fairy shows up there while he has it staked out. This is not her normal routine at all and in fact she’s disobeying orders even being there.

C. Artemis captures her with a tranq dart. How did he know what to dose a fairy with? Don’t know!

D. Artemis and his convenient military commando sidekick, Butler, figure out how to use the fairy’s weapons which they took off her. They have a few hours to do this and still take time to wander around and brood some, as well as exchange pointless dialogue with their prisoner.

E. The fairy’s people show up to get her back. The fairies have the power to literally freeze time, but they decide not to do that for some reason, even though it was their go-to move before and they’ve obviously dealing with a particularly dangerous opponent at this point. Artemis and Butler stroll out of the house like “have a go if you think you’re hard enough,” and manage to beat the fairies in a fight scene. So, again, this plan hinges on one twelve-year-old boy and one lardass beating up fairy world Seal Team Six. Which they not only pull off, but that was the plan all along.

F. Suddenly they spring this Da Rulez loophole on the fairies where they can’t come inside the house unless they’re invited in. So the fairies decide to send a dwarf in, because dwarves can eat dirt and shit it out very quickly (this is shown on-screen). We’ve seen that the fairy police have centaurs and all sorts of other magical creatures working for them, so you’d think they’d bring along someone who is both loyal and doesn’t have this glaring vulnerability, but they don’t, they HAVE TO use the dwarf. It is so predictable that they would have to resort to this that this is part of Artemis Fowl’s plan.

G. The dwarf comes in, but gets sidetracked by finding and breaking into the safe that Artemis wanted him to find and break into. For some reason, the fairies don’t follow the dwarf in, though you’d think that would be the whole point of using him.

E. Instead, the fairies air-drop a troll on Artemis’s house to kill everyone, including the fairy hostage (by now, she’s switched teams to Artemis, which I guess he also planned out, because who the fuck knows at this point?). See Part F for this police force apparently not having anyone that can do their fucking job, so they have to resort to using TWO prisoners for their dirty work. Guys, you’re Irish cops, have some fucking dignity!

F. Artemis and friends kill the troll and now they have the MacGuffin that was hidden in the safe. They were trying to get it to trade for Artemis’s dad, but I guess the villain isn’t interested in that, because he tries to kill Daddy Artemis without checking if Lil Artemis made the deadline. Luckily, the MacGuffin can be used to teleport Daddy Artemis right tf outta there. You may ask the wisdom of the villain taking a hostage in order to get his hands on a MacGuffin that can be used to rescue said hostage with the greatest of ease. Yeah, humans can’t use it, but by the end of the movie, Artemis has two fairies working for him, and that in the space of three days. And Daddy Artemis was working with at least one fairy to begin with. Seems like no matter what way the cookie crumbles, there’s a good chance of Lil Artemis finding a fairy contact who can use the MacGuffin for him.

-Butler has a niece that just kinda hangs out around the movie not doing anything. Forget I mentioned her.

-The movie, via Josh Gad, (the bastard) makes a big point that Butler will absolutely murder anyone who calls him ‘the butler’ (curious lifestyle choice for someone who is actually working as a butler, no?). At no point in the movie does someone call him a butler and get punched or anything.

-The movie also has a villain who dresses like Darth Sidious and speaks every line of dialogue through a vocalizer like he/she is going to try and kill Sidney Prescott. You’d think they’d be unmasked at some point and their true identity would be some shocking twist. No. Well, yes, actually. It turns out that they’re Anubis from Stargate SG-1.

#artemis fowl #stargate sg-1

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