#hopefully ducklings will be next

[allylikethecat]

Chapters: 3/15 Fandom: The 1975 (Band) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: George Daniel/Matthew Healy Characters: George Daniel, Matthew Healy, Adam Hann, Ross Macdonald, Carly Holt Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Hurt/Comfort, Past Drug Addiction, Fertility Issues Summary:

He couldn’t be in heat. He couldn’t remember what he even was supposed to do if he was in heat. But he couldn’t be. It had been nine years, all of the blood tests, all of the wait and seeing, all the hormone shots had yielded the same results. He didn’t have a heat cycle anymore, and he would never have one again. He had damaged his body beyond repair.

Except apparently not because he was dripping more slick than he had produced even as a horny teenager and his uterus was screaming at him that it wanted a baby and he just felt so nauseous and empty and-

#allylikethecat #on a friday #omegaverse #matty fic #gatty #omega matty #dont like dont read #keep it kind #when i asked which fic to update next yall said on a friday #so here she is! #i hope you like them #she is unbetaed and another raw from ally's brain so let me know what you think! #hopefully ducklings will be next #but it will probably be the a&e fic

[lethalchiralium]

Will Never Be Enough | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: i am so sorry, but i’m trying to make this series as realistic as possible so that would include natural things that happen. :( it wouldn’t be a lethalchiralium series if there wasn’t angst… also the 141 are ride or die for you and the kids. it’s just canon i have nothing else to say 🤷‍♀️

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of blood, miscarriages, vague descriptions of panic attacks. Mentions of babies and children.

summary: "Simon, I need you." The Lieutenant dropped the papers he was holding, they flew across the office floor. "I'm on my way." OR, Simon comes home to find you in a puddle of blood.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

It had been a couple weeks since the appointment, and he didn’t expect you to feel sick for this long after. It worried him, but you assured him that it was fine; you had been sick for a while with Mellie, that you would be better soon. He took your word for it and let you rest.

He had made Winnie her breakfast of strawberry pancakes and sat her in front of the television, he held Mellie against his chest. She was sated, little belly full of formula and snoring away on his shoulder. He had made you food and was waiting for you to come down to eat, but he wasn’t worried about when you did. He was satisfied knowing that you would have had something to eat, that he would hopefully beg Price nice enough to come home early. His one arm that held Mellie kept her snug against his chest, he was putting up plates in the cabinets from washing them the night before. He made the mental note to get more baby spoons because Mellie had no longer liked most of them.

“Dad! Done!” Winnie called from the coffee table, he looked over his shoulder to her. She was holding up her clean purple plate so he could see, strawberry stained the front of her face. He closed the cabinet and grabbed a tea towel, moving from the kitchen and into the living room. The chestnut haired girl bounced on her feet to meet him in the middle, he kneeled and gently wiped her face.

“Is Mama still sick?” Winnie moved her face away from the tea towel, but he still cleaned her face as she moved awkwardly to miss his massive hand.

“Yeah, duckling.” He nodded and stood, walking back into the kitchen while his small daughter followed. He tossed the tea towel onto the counter, making a note to put it in the laundry later, before moving towards the fridge. “You still hungry?” He opened it, glancing over the leftovers he had for you last night, beverages, and jars of baby food to look for those little oranges Winnie liked.

“Nuh-uh.”

He closed the fridge when he didn’t see them, glancing down to the baby in his arm before he looked to his oldest daughter. “Get your bag, love, gonna go check on Mum.”

The girl in pigtails her father had put in earlier bounced on her feet, disappearing back into the living room. Simon turned towards the counter across from the fridge, grabbing the plate of food with a fork on it before making his way upstairs.

Mellie’s little hand gripped onto his t-shirt when he nudged his bedroom door open, making his way to your side of the bed in the light that seeped through from the hallway. He quietly settled your plate of food on your nightstand before moving back out of the room, towards Mellie’s room. He opened the door and quickly moved towards her crib, peeling his little one from his chest before placing her delicately on her back on the small mattress. Her crib creaked when Simon leaned forwards to kiss her forehead, he was quick to move away and out her room - when the door closed, it was silent. He slipped back into his bedroom and to your side, he could see your silhouette in the middle of the bed underneath the plush duvet.

He leaned a knee onto the side of the bed, a hand settled on your cheek as he spoke, “Sweetheart.”

You grunted in annoyance. “Don’t wake me unless someone is dying or the house is on fire.”

Simon chuckled, petting your hair. “Put your food on your nightstand, I’m takin’ Wins to school soon.”

Your arms moved to stretch over your head as he leaned forwards, his lips meeting yours. A smile on your lips, your hands now found his chest to gently pull him off. “Baby, I’m still sick.”

“Don’t care.” He mumbled, pressing another kiss to your lips before his hands began to tug down the duvet. He moved himself down the bed, quickly tugging up his old t-shirt on you to press his lips to the small swell of your stomach, where that little baby was growing. His little baby, half of him and half of you. “Quit makin’ your mum sick, all she’s doin’ is lovin’ ya.”

With a final kiss to his unborn son, he moved back to place his lips on your forehead, feeling the skin a lot warmer than he had expected. He leaned back into his knees, nodding towards the food on the nightstand. “‘m takin’ Duckling to school, Mel’s asleep. You need to eat.”

You nodded, your hand reached for his and he instantly took it. He pressed his lips to your knuckles, you smiled at him.

“I won’t be long, tryin’ to get Price to let me off early.”

You shook your head, dismissing it. “I’ll be fine, baby. I’ll call you if I need you.”

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, a promise that he would be home soon.

—

Ghost desperately wanted it to be a slow day, but no. Active drills and testing on soldiers, Laswell was in for a debrief this morning, and a mention of a new deployment soon. He wasn’t very happy about it, but he said nothing. He would discuss it with you when he got home.

He had papers in his hand as he marched down to Price’s office; sergeants and privates diving out of his way to avoid his so-called ‘wrath’. All it was was a stare or the occasional pin onto the wall, nothing serious. In his hands were training reports on seasoned soldiers, descriptions of how their skills have improved and all that bullshit.

The man was tired, all he wanted to do was go home and lay in his bed underneath the dog pile of his daughters and wife. Maybe eat a sandwich or go for a run, but he had to be on base. He didn’t even have the time to look at Price this morning, this report was his saving grace to go home and make sure you were okay. He was itching to leave right this moment, but you’d never tell from his mask.

He knocked on Price’s door, not even waiting for permission to enter before he swung open the door. He shut the door behind him, moving to stand in front of Price.

“Got the reports-“

Ghost’s phone rang in his pocket, papers in his clutch as Price‘s voice died in his throat. His captain gave him a nod, letting Simon fish his phone out. He saw your pretty face on his screen and pressed the phone to his ear, concerned why you were calling him at one in the afternoon. He was about to get Price to let him leave earlier so he could take care of you and the girls.

“Hi, are you okay?”

“Simon, Simon-“ Your sobs were loud. “I need you.”

He dropped the papers he had onto the floor of Price’s office and booked it. “Baby, hey, I’m on my way.” He said, shoving past privates and his friends, who called after him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Ever-Everything, there’s- There’s so much blood- I think-“ A loud sob. “I think I’m losing the baby.”

He felt like throwing up.

His hand went to his pocket, ripping out his keys but dropping them onto the concrete. He didn’t even have the time to pick them up before someone else did, he looked up to see Price.

He couldn’t see how badly he was shaking, all he could do was listen to you say, “It hurts so much.” Price moved around to the other side of his car, getting into the driver’s seat while he got into the passenger seat. He felt the car move as the back doors opened, he knew it was Soap and Gaz. Price didn’t even wait for them to close their doors before he pressed the pedal to the metal.

“I’m comin’, baby. Hold on.” He answered. “Talk to me, sweet girl.”

“Please,” Your voice cracked, sobs followed after. “Simon.”

His hand was shaking so bad, he could feel it now. His brain shut off, he could only feel fear as it tore through his entire being like fire. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t ever dare to - not when it took so long to find you.

The fifteen minute drive home was made in seven, flat. Simon was out of the car before Price even put it in park. He ran. He sprinted into the house, not caring that the front door slammed against the wall. He’d fix it later. He took the stairs three at a time, hearing his daughter crying in your en-suite bathroom. He frantically ran down the hall, opening the bedroom door. The light from the bathroom lit up the room, he didn’t stop running until he almost went face first into the door frame. He was breathing hard, eyes now fixated on you.

Blood stained the floor of the bathroom and the bottom of the shirt of his you were wearing. Mellie was sat in your arms, tears stained her cheeks as she cried loudly. Your face looked paler, tears dripping down onto the crown of your daughter’s head. Your face was contorted into one in pain, one hand on the small bump of your belly.

“LT!” He heard Soap call, he turned his head towards the doorway of his bedroom.

“Up here!”

He then came to your side, kneeling beside you as the rumble of boots against the hardwood stairs were loud, making Mellie cry harder. Your hand reached for him, gripping onto his uniform as his own hand settled on your cheek. He glanced down at the blood that pooled around your legs. “What happened?”

“I-I felt sick and-and I got up and- there was-“ Sobs kept falling from your mouth, chest trembling and making the eight month old screech. “I can’t-“ Your face went to your daughter, pressing a kiss to her head as she kept crying. “Mels, please, baby-“

He was quick to remove his hand from your face, taking his daughter in his grasp before turning towards the bedroom. Gaz and Soap stood in it, Price behind them, all of them gazing through the doorway. Every single one of his friends’ faces had concern written all over them.

“Gaz.”

The Sergeant immediately came forwards, taking the little one in his grasp and leaving the bathroom. Simon turned back to you, grabbing your other hand and squeezing. You tried to take a deep breath, but hiccuped harshly. “It hurts, Simon. It hurts, it hurts.“ Your eyes screwed shut, he felt your knuckles pop as you kept squeezing his hand.

“I know.” He murmured, moving one arm to go underneath your knees. Your body was shaking, he was shaking, he didn’t know how to stop it, he wanted to stop it.

Your voice was nothing but a whisper, body trembling as he picked you up. “My baby.”

“Simon, what’s happened?” Price spoke, he probably noticed the blood on the floor that had seeped through your underwear. Simon felt his skin grow cold when he felt the blood against his forearm, moving into the bedroom before grabbing a blanket from the chair next to the dresser. He did his best to cover you, Soap immediately came to his aid. He pulled the blanket up to your neck while Simon awkwardly wrapped you in the gray blanket.

As soon as Soap had moved away, Simon was gone. Down the steps, through the hallway while hearing his infant daughter screeching in the kitchen. He kept his eyes on you, your eyes screwed so tight and hollow sobs echoed from your lips.

He didn’t hear Price tell Soap to go get Winnie from school, he didn’t listen when Price told Gaz to stay with Mellie, that he was going with Simon.

It was like the world was in slow motion when he stepped down the front porch, but it zipped by when Price’s hand landed on his shoulder. Simon didn’t even turn to look at Price.

“She’s miscarrying.”

———

hi. simon is great dad and you can’t convince me otherwise, he’s the best husband he can be so part 2 will be soon i promise :(

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

#simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley x wife!reader #lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium

[gejo333]

Surprise!

Miguel x fem! Spider! Reader

Summary: Here is a very romantic and fluffy (also a bit cheesy🧀💕) one-shot!

Yay! second one-shot post on the next day! 🎉

I wonder how long I can keep this streak up, lol. Hopefully for a while. I don’t want to disappoint my fellow Miguel fans! 💙❤️💙

I also finished this late into the night, so I apologize in advance if there are any grammatical mistakes.

Word count: 1.8k

____________________________________________

Your leg hung off the side of the skyscraper as the other clung to your chest. Your eyes scanned across the peaceful skyline. You let out a sigh of relief that there were no villains rampaging Nueva York that you would have to take down. It had been pleasantly calm throughout the city in recent weeks. You hoped it would stay like this for a long time. Maybe so you could finally have the chance to settle down. But was it selfish to wish that?

You reached under your spider suit to pull out a necklace you never took off. The silver heart-shaped locket clicked open, revealing two photos of the same person. Her baby girl. On the left a photo of her only a few days old. To the right, the photo of her on her third birthday. Days before she fell limp in your arms.

It's been six years since that heart-shattering day. You thought that you would never be the same. As time went on you succumbed to the numbness you felt. But you never would have thought you would be bitten by a radioactive spider on the first anniversary of your daughter’s death. You also never thought you would encounter Miguel. A man from another world. Who, bit by bit put your broken heart back together.

He sympathized with you. He too was a broken parent who lost a child. His nine year old daughter, Gabriella. At times when you both desperately missed your children, you would sit and cuddle and tell fond memories of both your daughters.

“Lily would have adored Gabriella. Like a little sister, idolizing her big sister. She would have waddled around, following her like a duckling.” You let out a light laugh as you felt him laugh too when resting your back on his broad, clothed, chest.

“Gabriella would have loved her too. Though soccer was her passion, she loved to play dress up with her dolls. She would have loved dressing Lilly up in one of her princess dresses.” Miguel smiled.

“Mi amor?” Miguel leaned forward to look at your face as you grew too quiet, worrying him. His worry grew as he saw a few tears fall down your cheeks, your lips barely lifted into a smile. He moved you to sit across his lap as he brought your head to rest against his shoulder, your face against his neck.

“Miguel?” You said, slightly above a whisper. He hummed in response, saying he was listening.

“Do you think there is a universe out there, where our daughters are raised together? Alive and happy. Where we are a family?”

“I really hope so vida mia. I really hope so.”

The memory brought a tear down your face, which you wiped away. The memory was two years ago, only a half a year in, when you first started dating. The only reason that memory came back to you was from the event that occurred this morning.

Your eyes snapped open, a sudden urgency coursing through your body. You look to your left as you see a sleeping Miguel. ‘He must be exhausted.’ Usually he was always up before you.

You look outside the window, the sun was only halfway peaking across the horizon. All of a sudden, your mind remembered. You carefully leave the bed and head towards the bathroom. You kneel in front of the toilet. All you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears. The feeling in your stomach went away as multiple questions ran through your head.

You stood up as you grabbed a box from under the sink, which you hid in case of emergencies. It felt like the longest three minutes of your life. And as you thought. You were pregnant.

You quickly washed your hands and cleaned off the pregnancy test. You creaked the door open. You sighed. He was still asleep. You moved to your drawers and hid it in a sock before slipping back into bed, hoping Miguel hadn’t noticed. You cringed slightly when you felt Miguel pull you into his chest as he sweetly left kisses down your neck and shoulder.

“Buenos días, princesa.”

“Good morning.” You turn your head to capture his lips with yours before parting. Miguel mimics your smile as he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face.

“I wish we could stay in this moment forever. You in my arms, in our bed.” Miguel tilted your chin up to place a passionate kiss on your lips. His warm, plush lips felt perfect against your own. You wanted this moment to last forever.

You stood up from your spot on the roof and opened up a portal to Miguel’s Nueva York. You stepped through into the apartment you shared. Home. You quickly remove your suite and go to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

You stand right under the shower head, letting the water wrap around you. The same questions race through your mind. ‘Will he be happy?’

It took a little bit of time to choose the right dress and get ready. Fortunately, you arrived at the restaurant on time. The waitress led you to where you saw a cleaned up Miguel in a nice button-down shirt and black pants. When you caught his eye, he smiled and raised from his seat to greet you.

“You look stunning, mi amor.” He wraps a hand around your waist and brings you in for a loving quick kiss on your lips.

“I could say the same for you, Miggy.”

His nickname coming from your lips widens his smile. He guides you into your chair that he pulled out. He places a kiss to the top of your head as he gently pushes your chair in before sitting back down himself.

“You can be such a gentleman when you want to.” You let out a small laugh. He took one of your hands and gave you a kiss on your knuckles. He set it back down, but still held it.

“Only for you. But I won’t be one tonight. So be prepared.”

A smirk graced his lips, sending you a wink. A shiver went up your spine as your cheeks were dusted in a deep shade of pink. Despite dating him for two years, he still can make you flustered.

The waiter came and took your drink and food orders. You knew Miguel would want to order an expensive bottle of wine for you two. But luckily you were able to convince him to go by the glass tonight due to your predicament that he was still unaware of.

A few moments later the waiter brought you both glasses of chardonnay. After clinking drinks with Miguel you made sure to smell your drink before taking the sip. You sighed into your glass relieved. The hostess had done the task you asked her to do. Of course with the help of a hundred dollar bill slipped into her hand. Before meeting Miguel, you had bought grape juice that resembled a white wine and handed it to the hostess to have the waiter pour this into your wine glass.

The odd look the hostess gave you was understandable as you thought your mind-set was a little weird too. If you didn’t drink wine tonight, you knew Miguel would become suspicious. So the juice idea was the first thought to come to your head, and for some reason you thought it was a good decision.

After having an enjoyable conversation with your boyfriend and forcing yourself to eat your food, despite the urge to throw-up, the two of you left the restaurant. Miguel insisted on taking a stroll in Central Park instead of going straight home, which you happily obliged.

No one back at HQ would think that their boss, Miguel O’Hara was a huge romantic. You loved how he showed a warm and soft side of himself to you.

After walking in a comfortable silence for some time, enjoying only each other’s presence, the two of you arrive at Turtle Pond. The same place Miguel had taken you on your first date. You gasp as you see a beautiful site before you. A blanket laid out with a picnic basket that was decorated in red roses. You look up at the tree you were now under as you gaze at the fairy lights that hung on the tree.

“It’s so beautiful. Miggy did you-” You turned around to look back at Miguel and were once again surprised. In his almost seven foot tall glory, he was bent down on one knee, holding a small box in his hand. Inside the box was a silver ring with a large ruby in the center and four smaller rubies on all four sides having four diamonds protecting the larger rubie’s corners.

“Y/n, mi amor. For the past five years you have been my light that has brought me out of a long-period of darkness. I can’t imagine my life without you. Will you make me the happiest man in Nueva York and marry me?”

“Yes! I will marry you!” You rush into his arms, surprisingly, almost knocking him over as you wrap your arms around him. He smiles brightly down at you before pressing his lips on yours. You both separate to breath, both now standing up. Miguel takes the ring from the box and puts it on your finger.

“I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“Well your luck has just gotten better.”

You open your purse and take out the pregnancy test which you hand it to Miguel. Your nerves were going crazy as each second felt like an eternity. Miguel’s brows furrow when you hand him something. Looking down, his eyes widened. The knot in your stomach kept on getting worse.

Your nerves immediately vanish when you see a wide toothy grin appear on Miguel’s face, showing his perfect dimples. He grabbed you by the waist and twirled you around. Setting you down as he placed a hand on your belly and the other on your cheek giving you a loving kiss. Your lips parted briefly as Miguel rested his forehead against yours and said, “You hear that Gabriella? Lily? You're both going to be big sisters.”

…

On the other side of the pond, behind a tree, were two spiders elated to see their closest friends so happy.

“I can’t believe there’s going to be another baby spider swinging around HQ.” Peter B. said as dramatic happy tears fell from his face.

“Peter, stop crying! Miguel and y/n might hear you.” whispered Jess.

“I’m just so happy for them!” Peter cried into Jess' shoulder to her dismay. She lightly patted his back.

“There, there Peter. There, there.”

____________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed this fluffy one-shot as much as I did writing it! 💕💕💕

If you have any one-shot requests comment below or DM!

Can’t wait to post #3 tomorrow!

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #spider man 2099 #romance #fluff #spider man: across the spider verse #jessica drew #peter benjamin parker #oneshot #oneshot requests

[daddymortfest]

Daddymort MasterList 2023

Here are the submissions that made it for the Daddymort fest this year! I had so much fun plotting and chatting with you all. Hopefully we will see you all next year <3

In no particular order....

Mary Magdalene

vash (hanamichi)

For youknowmevj.

Based on a prompt for the Daddymort fest: when Harry tries to destroy four of Voldemort's seven Horcruxes they turn into babies instead and latch on to Harry like ducklings. or: SCANDAL! Young Mother Of Four Claims Dark Lord Hasn't Been Paying Child Support

How I Met Your Mother

apocalypseWallflower

These are all the times that Harry Potter met Voldemort but hated him, and the time they fell in love. OR Set to the backdrop of someone who has never seen nor interacted with the show/or otherwise “How I Met Your Mother” but still took very light inspiration from the memes.

For a War Drum

Saeva

Get some Pull up the ladder when the flood comes Throw enough rope until the legs have swung Seven new ways that you can eat your young Come and get some Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young - 'Eat Your Young', Hozier Discovering that Harry Potter has been left to the pitilessness of the Muggle world and its hate for magic, Voldemort decides there might be another way to deny Albus Dumbledore his child weapon. After all, killing the boy would be such a waste of powerful potential.

what he truly wanted

acydpop

For greenmegsnoham.

When Voldemort adopted Harry, he was given everything he could ever want or need, so imagine Harry's surprise when his adopted father kept him from dating. After his 7th date running out of the manor crying, Harry confronted his father. The confrontation became heated in more ways than one. ;)

(You) Set Me Aflame

rgemma

For greenmegsnoham.

When snakes emerge from brumation, they mate. Parselmouths are much the same.

His Brave Boy

LiquidLuckandStuff

Harry should have died when Voldemort came to his house all those years ago. He should have died under his relatives care, but now there was a voice in his head guiding him and teaching him. Sometimes, he even gets bedtime stores about heroes who befriend giant snakes and save the things they care about the most. Harry loves his father until he is forced to forget him for their own safety. Now, years later when he should have died by Lord Voldemort's hand yet again, Harry sees the broken form of the horcrux at Kings Cross station and remembers. ______ Scarcrux raises Harry. Hurt/comfort and a happy ending as promised.

He Will Slay You with His Tongue

evaleon70

Prompt fill for Daddymort Fest 2023: "Harry distracts Voldemort (without thinking) by calling him "Daddy" in the middle of the battle in Parseltounge. It works and Voldemort loses his mind. People ask him what he said but he is too ashamed to admit it, only that "hey it worked." Harry's comments keep getting filthier and filthier when they fight until Voldemort can't take it anymore."

#daddymort #daddymortfest #vold daddy #lord voldemort #Tomarrymort #Tomarry #Harry Potter #Harrymort #Voldemort Adopts Harry #Tom Riddle

[love-and-hisses]

If you missed it on the blog this morning, or in the post from a few hours ago, we have a new foster. Her name is Crumpet, she is pregnant, and I don't know when she'll have those kittens but I don't think it'll be in the next few days. (I am guessing maybe a week? But I don't know. Y'all know I've never been good at guessing when kittens will be born.) She is in my office, and she's a happy, happy girl. (I made this video yesterday when the Ducklings were at the vet; they are doing well today, and hopefully in a few days I can move them from the bathroom to the foster room!)

[the-authoress-writes]

Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing

A MavDad/PennyMav Fic

Synopsis: What do paperwork and a manicure have to do with Pete Mitchell getting the happy ending he never thought he would?

Everything, apparently.

Warnings: Fluff—pure, unadulterated fluff with feels.

Author’s Note: At last, I fulfill my promise to write something for Mav!

I couldn’t be happier to finally write something where Mav is the star, and not the wingman, literal or figurative.

Honestly, this story idea has been floating around in my head for a while, and here it is!

I know I should be working on the next chapter of Wherever You Go, or heck, even my faceclaim post for said fic, but this just wanted to be written already, and hopefully, now that I’ve gotten it out of my system, I will be able to get back to writing that.

I swear I didn’t plan to post this around Valentine’s Day, but hey, I’m not complaining!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my schmoopy MavDad indulgence!

“Honey, have you done your homework?” Mav heard Penny ask Amelia, from where he was drying the dinner dishes in the kitchen.

“Did it this afternoon, Mom, and I told you, the light is better here.”

“Okay, alright, let me just open a window before you suffocate us with the acetone,” Penny chuckled.

“Thanks, Mom.”

The sound of latches opening and glass bottles clinking together tinkled through the air, and the shadow of Penny crossing to open the window behind the breakfast nook fell across the counter next to him.

The cool breeze of a San Diego fall evening washed in, much like the distant tide.

A few soft footfalls later, warm arms wrapped around him. “Pete, honey, you coming up soon?”

Cracking a smile at the muted gag from the dining table, he sighed, leaning back against her. “I’ll try—I have a shit-ton of paperwork that Cyclone dumped on me.

The disadvantages of being an instructor and squadron leader,” he ruefully smiled, though he didn’t really regret taking the TOPGUN job and the position of CO of the newly created VFA-223, the “Black Cloaks”, comprised entirely of the Daggers and those who had been selected for the detachment training—or Maverick’s Ducklings, as Cyclone had dubbed them.

She nodded against his back. “Alright, come to bed when you’re done, okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

It was one of the best decisions in his life to work at his relationship with Penny—they had no chance of working when he was younger; his soul was too haunted, his heart, mind, and body chasing ghosts while also fleeing from them, but now… well, now, his mother’s engagement ring was sitting in the drawer of his desk at work, just waiting.

For what, exactly, he wasn’t sure.

The right moment, he guessed.

Mav heard Penny’s footsteps start up the stairs just as he placed the last glass in the cabinet, and after a wistful exhale, he grabbed the reluctantly-owned attaché case that Ice would have cackled over him having, which contained the classwork from his TOPGUN students, and the relatively sensitive training run reports of the Black Cloaks, setting it down at the dining table, across from where Amelia was… doing something to her nails.

He began working on the papers, and soon realized she was doing her nails.

After a while, Amelia murmured, “How’s the paperwork going?” a smirk like her mother’s on her face.

Belatedly, he realized he’d been watching her work instead of reading his reports. “It’s uh… paperworking,” he muttered lamely.

“I bet it’s better than watching nail polish dry.”

He blinked—she had her mother’s and her grandfather’s dry wit, that was for sure.

After that pointed reminder, the two of them worked in silence, the sound of a bottle of clear polish eventually punctuating the air with a sound of finality.

She blew on her hands for a while, then set them down on the table.

He soon felt the weight of her stare, and let it rest on him for about five minutes before he interjected, “How’s the uh, manicure?”

“Good.

The paperwork?”

“… It’s…”

“Boring,” she dared, raising an eyebrow.

He debated the consequences of telling Amelia responsibility was boring, but the truth was, no matter how interesting the maneuvers were in the air, the constraints of report language made them boring.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Figured.” She blinked, thoughtful. “Do you have to do anything special with the paperwork?”

“Not really, just read them over, and make sure that what they’re saying in the report matches up with what happened in the air.

And then I have to grade my students’ homework.”

Amelia nodded, and after a pause, she asked, “You any good at multitasking?”

Even though he wasn’t sure where she was going with this, he replied, “Pretty good.”

It was part of his job after all, especially since he switched to single-seat; having to calculate things like AOA and airspeed relative to the limitations of his aircraft, all while flying faster than the speed of sound, among other things.

“Okay.

You read those reports and grade that homework.

I’m going to tell you about my day while I give you a manicure.” She inhaled, something hesitant in her eyes. “Unless… unless you don’t want me to bug you—it’s teenager stuff and all that—”

He cut her off, “I’d love to hear about your day, Amelia.”

It hit something in his heart to see the quickly concealed shock in her eyes.

Yet another strike for Penny’s dick ex-husband in Mav’s book.

“You would?”

“Yeah, of course, kiddo.

But uh,” Mav scratched the back of his neck, “is the manicure really necessary?”

Like a flash of lightning, she leaned over the table and grabbed his hand, scrutinizing each finger and his palm, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Ugh—yeah.”

He hedged, “I’m pretty sure it’s against regs for me to have pink—”

“Relax, old man, there is such a thing as clear polish—Admiral Stick-in-the-Mud won’t see a thing.

And I need something to do too, I’m not even halfway tired yet.

Fixing your trainwreck hands oughta do the trick,” she gestured.

He laughed, switching the papers to his right hand. “Alright, Skylark, go to town.”

Amelia ducked her head and grabbed her nail file, failing to conceal her smile at the nickname he’d given her shortly after he and Penny got back together. “Okay, so, um, at school, math is my first subject, and honestly, whoever said math should be the first class of the day needs to be punished…”

Almost two and a half hours later, the paperwork was done, Mav’s nails were cut, filed, and polished, his cuticles trimmed, hands moisturized, and he knew every dirty, juicy secret of North Island High.

Amelia drowsily packed up her nail kit, which was the size of a small toolbox, while he did the same with his attaché case, and as a team, they checked the doors and windows of the house, making sure everything was secure.

The task done, they ended up back at the dining room. “All hatches battened down, Captain,” she sighed.

At his slightly perplexed frown, she rolled her eyes, “Seriously—you’re in the navy.”

“Like I told your mom, I don’t sail boats, I just land on them,” he chuckled.

“Well, it means everything’s good.”

He softly clapped his hands together, “Alrighty, let’s get to bed then.”

Amelia snorted, “God, you’re so old, who even says alrighty non-ironically anymore?”

“Alrighty isn’t cool anymore?”

“No.

Was it ever?”

“Uh…”

She shook her head, “Remind me to get you up to date, I can’t have you embarrassing yourself out there—you’ll lose all your cool.”

Mav immediately pointed, “So you think I’m cool?”

Caught like a deer in the headlights, she tried to backtrack. “I mean, don’t—don’t all you naval aviators think you’re like, the coolest or something?”

“No, no, no, no take-backsies; you think I’m cool,” he grinned.

She winced, “You’re killing me here—‘take-backsies’?”

“Come onnnn, Skylark.”

“Ugh, fine,” she groaned, “you’re—you’re sort of cool.”

“I’ll take it, kid.”

She smirked, then looked at her nail kit despairingly. “Seriously regretting bringing the whole thing down.

It’s heavy as hell.”

He reached for it, “Lemme get it for ya.”

Amelia attempted to bat his hands away, “No, I can carry it, Mav.”

“I got it—just focus on getting yourself up the stairs.”

She visibly debated the idea of arguing, but a yawn cut her off, and with the element of her eyes closed, he used the opportunity to gently wrap an arm around her shoulder and usher her up the stairs.

“You should have let me carry it—you’re too old to carry heavy stuff,” she muttered, mindful of her likely sleeping mother.

“I can carry this for you, don’t worry about me.

And next time you do my nails, you can carry it.”

They had arrived at her bedroom door, and she stopped short. “Next time?”

“Yeah, who else will help me get through my paperwork, take care of my hands, and let me know if Micah takes Kenna instead of Alyssa to Junior Prom?”

A smile curled the corner of her mouth. “I guess someone has to help you stay in the brass’ good graces so they don’t ship you out to the asscrack of America for not doing paperwork.”

“Can’t afford to leave you and your mom, Skylark.” And he really didn’t want to leave this time, not when he finally had so much to stay for.

“Or the chicken.

And the ducklings.”

“Yeah, them too,” Mav laughed quietly, similarly mindful of Penny, before handing the nail kit to her. “Anyway, here you go, Amelia.”

She took the nail kit, looking at him for a beat, like she had something to say, but wasn’t sure about whether to say it.

Finally, she said, “Thanks.

And, uh… I… I—I know I like giving you crap, but, I—I like—having you around, Mav.

And I—I…” she trailed off, pinching the bridge of her nose, “you know what, never mind, I’m rambling, your disaster hands made me tired.”

He knew that she wanted to say something else just then, but he let it go, not wanting to pry. “I really, really like being around too, Skylark, and if I have anything to say about it, I won’t be going anywhere.”

“That’s good,” she smiled, swallowing thickly. “I, uh, I better go—gotta get that good sleep.”

“Alright, kiddo, goodnight.”

“Night, Mav.”

After a sleepy smile, she softly shut her door, and he continued up the stairs, getting into bed beside a sleeping Penny, wrapping himself around her, quickly drifting off to sleep.

“Alright, Daggers, good work on the hop, head to the hangar, and we’ll review the maneuvers,” Mav clapped his hands, looking at his squad, most of whom dispersed to the aforementioned location, save for Bradley, who hung back.

“I seriously don’t know how you do it, you crazy old man,” Bradley laughed, his Caravans doing nothing to hide the child-like glee in his eyes. “I thought we’d all learned everything our first TOPGUN sessions and during the detachment training, but somehow, you manage to teach us something new every time.”

“Well, I got to make sure you kids know everything I do, so you all can continue to terrorize the Navy when I retire,” Mav grinned.

Bradley scoffed, “You say that like you’re going to turn in your papers today—we both know the brass’ll have to drag you from your F-18, Mav.” His son in everything but name and blood paused, a twitch of his mustache the only giveaway of his rising concern. “I mean—you’re not doing that any time soon—right, Dad?”

He wrapped an arm around Bradley, “Nah, not about to leave you to the skies just yet, Baby Goose.

Not until I make you all better than me.”

His “Until I make sure you can survive anything,” went unsaid, but his boy, ever perceptive, leaned into the contact and murmured, “Love you too, Dad.”

“Love you more—” Mav cut himself off as he went to run a hand through his hair, frowning at his hand.

There on his thumb, in bright, varnished red, was a neatly drawn heart, and the letter U.

Distantly, he heard Bradley say, “Mav?

Dad, you okay?

What’s wrong?”

“This wasn’t here last night,” he muttered, showing Bradley his thumb.

The worry eased from his son’s face, replaced with amusement. “You let Skylark do your nails?”

“Yes, I did—sue me—but Roo, this wasn’t there last night, I distinctly remember making Amelia use clear nail polish.”

Bradley took his hand, scrutinizing it. “It looks like there’s top coat on here, so she put this last night.”

Mav couldn’t help the surprise on his face.

“Sue me, sometimes Phoe makes me paint her toenails,” the younger pilot muttered.

“How is that possible—I saw my hands after she did it; this wasn’t there.”

Bradley thought for a second, before the metaphorical lightbulb lit up. “Invisible nail polish.”

“What?

That’s a thing?”

“Yeah—absolutely.

It goes on clear, but stand in the sun or heat up your hands, it’ll turn the color it’s supposed to be.”

As Mav absorbed this information, the puzzle pieces came together in his head, what Amelia had been trying to say before they said goodnight, and tears sprang to his eyes.

“Dad?”

“Amelia loves me, Baby Goose—I can’t bel—I don’t—”

Immediately, Bradley took him into his arms. “Hey; Dad, listen to me: you deserve all the love in the world, okay?

And I am so sorry for my hand in making you feel like you don’t deserve love, but you do, Dad—I can assure you, you do.

I’m really happy for you.

Maybe now, you can muster up the guts to bust out that box that’s been hiding in your desk.”

Mav gasped, “How did you—”

“I saw it when I asked for some Post-It’s last week.

Seriously, you didn’t even make an effort to hide it.”

“You—you’re not mad I didn’t tell you?” he gulped.

Bradley smirked, pulling back, “Dad, I knew this was coming a long time ago, and really, as long as you’re happy and healthy?

I’m on your wing.”

Mav reached up, cupping Bradley’s face. “You’re a good kid, Baby Goose.”

Regret twisted his boy’s face. “Could have been better.”

“I love you regardless, kid.

Now come on, they’re probably all wondering where we are, let’s debrief so we can get outta here sooner; I need your help at the mall.”

“Su—wait, what?” It was amusing to see Bradley stop right in his tracks.

“I need to get something for Amelia; but I don’t know where to start.”

“I…” the younger pilot opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, before finally shutting it with a click and sighing, “I guess we’re going shopping later for Skylark, then.”

Mav eagerly slapped him on the arm, wide grin on his face as he dashed back to the hangar, and Bradley tried to not to feel that this mall mission was like stealing an F-14 all over again.

“Pen, Skylark, I’m home!” Mav ventured, hoping for the first time, that Penny wasn’t home.

“Just me, Mav, Mom’s still at The Hard Deck!” Amelia called back, and relief flowed through him; it made this a whole lot easier.

He followed the sound of her voice to the dining room, where she was bent over a textbook, and he pulled up the chair next to her. “Hey kiddo, you got a minute?”

Amelia froze and swallowed thickly, shutting her textbook slowly, an unreadable expression on her face. “Mav, I swear, if you have gotten yourself shipped off again, I am not going to be the one to tell Mom—”

“No!” he yelped, “it’s not like that.

I just wanted to talk to you for a bit.”

“Okay,” she breathed, still skeptical.

He reached out and took her hands in his right. “I got your message.”

She frowned, “I didn’t call you this—” she cut herself off at his meaningful look at his hand. “Oh—that.” She frantically shook her head. “I—I was just playing with you, it doesn’t—“

“I don’t think you were,” he gently pressed.

“I—I—Mav,” she breathed, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights.

He pulled her into his arms. “I love you too, Amelia.”

And God, it broke his heart to hear her gasp, “You do?”

“Swear on my wings, Skylark,” Mav solemnly nodded into her hair.

He held her tighter against him as she sniffled, her small frame trembling.

When her trembling and sniffles subsided, he drew back. “Now, I have a pretty big question to ask you, Amelia.

It’s one I’ve actually wanted to ask for a while, but something held me back; I think I’m ready to ask now.

You up for it?”

She swiped the back of her hand across her face. “Shoot.”

He pulled a small, black velvet box from his jacket pocket, and opened it, laying it on the table. “You think your mom would like that?”

Her jaw dropped. “You…”

“Mm-hmm.

I’m asking your permission to marry your mother.”

She dared, “Hypothetically, what if I say no?”

Mav inhaled, wincing, “I would ask you to reconsider, but I’d respect that.”

A deep frown creased her brow. “You would deny yourself happiness just because I didn’t want you to marry Mom?”

He took her hand again. “Amelia, you and your mom are a package deal; the last thing on earth I want is to come between you and your mother.

And if that means that this never gets used… well, so be it.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and her voice shook, “You love Mom, right?”

He couldn’t help a soft smile. “I’ve… I’ve loved your mom for a long time, kiddo.

Yeah, I love her.”

“And you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, right?”

“If I have my way, I’m not going anywhere.”

Wordlessly, she nodded.

“Yeah?”

Nodding again, she stated, “Yeah, you can marry my mom.”

“Thanks, Skylark,” he beamed, wrapping an arm around her. “You don’t know what that means.

And hey, I have something for you.”

Mav pulled out the small, white bag he’d tucked in his bomber. “I had an idea of what I wanted, and Bradley told me this store was a good place to find what I was looking for—apparently, he’s bought here before.”

Amelia carefully took the box out of the bag, revealing a silver Pandora bracelet with a double charm of a silver swooping bird encrusted with small blue stones, a small round medal behind it saying “Time to fly” with stylized birds on it, and a simple, custom silver medal engraved with his handwriting, saying, “I love you too.”

Mav couldn’t help rambling, “It’s a Pandora bracelet, you can add charms to it if you want, I just wanted to give you something special; I was always going to give you this even if you didn’t give me your permission to marry your mother—”

“Mav.

This… this is too much,” Amelia breathed, interrupting him.

He twisted his mouth self-effacingly. “Nothing’s too much for those I love.”

Tears welled in her eyes again, and this time, she lurched forward into his arms.

He held her for a long moment, before pulling back to look at her. “Now, I need your help.

You and I need to get your mom here early, and you need to help Brads when he comes over in a bit; he’s bringing the food.”

Amelia’s eyes lit up. “You’re going to ask her tonight, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Didn’t know you were capable of making a plan, Mav,” she smirked.

“I am amazing at making plans, Skylark—come on, let’s get to work.”

Under the pretense of Amelia being very under the weather, both she and Mav had managed to get Penny home before the sun had even gone down—Penny burst through the door, gasping for breath. “Pete—Ames?”

“Here, Mom,” she called out from her seat in the dining room, exchanging happy glances with Mav and Bradley.

“What’s wrong, how are you feel—” Penny stopped short when she caught sight of the trio of Mav, Bradley, and Amelia at the dining table with shit-eating grins on their faces, connecting the dots that she did have. “You weren’t feeling sick, were you?” she addressed her daughter.

“It was my idea, Pen, we didn’t know how else to get you home faster,” Mav sheepishly spoke up, throwing himself on the figurative sword.

“Pete!”

“What?

I wanted us to… celebrate—family, you know?

Have a family dinner with your kid, my kid.”

Amelia piped up, “And my allergies were acting up really bad today, Mom.”

“You’re a bad influence, Pete.”

He stood, approaching her, his million-watt smile on full brilliance. “Aww, you love me.”

She stared stonily, before her eyes softened and the corner of her lips tipped up under the assault of his gaze and smile. “Unfortunately.”

Amelia and Bradley playfully gagged simultaneously, causing both Penny and Mav to laugh, to which Bradley spoke up, “Well, I still have to heat up the food I brought, because we didn’t know when you’d get here, Penny, so why don’t you two go for a walk on the beach, do whatever two old people in love do?”

Mav teasingly pointed, “Remember who kicked your ass in hops this morning, Baby Goose,” while Penny crossed her arms, seamlessly picking up the thread, “And who can raise the price of your drinks, Rooster.”

Bradley raised his hands in surrender. “That is freaky as hell.

Let’s leave them to it, Skylark, I need a wingman in the kitchen.”

Without even a peep of protest, Amelia followed Bradley, but not before giving Mav a supportive wink.

“What was that about?” Penny narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend.

“What?”

“That wink Amelia sent you.”

“Did she?

I didn’t see anything.”

She tilted her head skeptically, but he continued, “Why don’t we take Baby Goose’s suggestion and go take a walk on the beach?

It’ll be nice, sweetheart.”

Despite the feeling that Mav was up to something, she nodded and laced her arm through his offered elbow for the suggested beach walk, not knowing the other hand tucked in his bomber pocket was wrapped around a little black velvet box.

It was a nice evening, warm, but with a breeze coming in off the ocean, and the sunset was gorgeous.

Penny walked along the shore, arm in arm with Mav, just enjoying each other’s company in a way they wouldn’t be capable of over thirty years ago.

They had both grown so much as people, in so many ways, big and small, and she tilted her head, briefly leaning it against his shoulder.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he murmured, a smile in his voice.

She chuckled, “You’re corny.

But I was thinking about us.”

“Hmm—good thoughts?”

“Yeah.

I don’t think we could have had this years ago.

I’m so glad that we have it now, before it was too late.”

He sighed heavily. “That’s on me, Pen.

I am more sorry than you know—so much wasted time.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Pete; the time was right.

And we still have time, it’s not like either of us have a foot in the grave.”

“It’s less time than I’d like.”

She smiled softly, “You romantic.”

“I try,” he joked, soon growing serious. “But… as much as I wish it weren’t the case, I guess the time was right for us.

Even just five years ago… I’d have crashed and burned us, and there’d be no hope after that.

But now… look at us.”

“I know.”

“Penny… there’s so much I want to tell you, but I don’t know if I have the words to describe them,” he breathed, tone intense.

She ran her hand soothingly up and down his arm, knowing he was just collecting himself.

“I—with you, solid ground feels just as much like home as the sky always has.

Your love makes me feel free, when I’ve never wanted so much to stay in one place before.

You know all my issues, my shortcomings, my fears, and yet, you’re still here.

I don’t deserve a woman like you, but somehow, you chose me.”

“Pete—”

He stopped them, took both her hands in his, and slowly knelt in the sand, before he plucked a black velvet box from his jacket pocket. “All this is to say, Penelope Marissa Benjamin, will you make me the happiest man on earth and make me your husband?”

She gasped, her eyes darting from Mav’s earnest face to the beautiful solitaire diamond set in a simple band of yellow gold. “Isn’t it supposed to be ‘be my wife?’”

“I’m marrying up, here,” he grinned, continuing, “so what do you say?

Because Captain Benjamin-Mitchell definitely has a ring to it.

Though your dad would probably have a heart attack at the thought of me having his last name too.”

“I think he’s come around to you, actually—he calls you ‘that damn Maverick’ instead of ‘that fucking Mitchell’, nowadays.”

Mav tilted his head from side to side, considering. “I’ll take it.

So… marry me?”

“Yes.

Yes, I will,” she breathlessly replied.

“Oh, thank God,” he muttered, delight shining in his eyes, his hands shaking as he placed the ring on her finger.

It fit perfectly, and Mav wistfully sighed. “My mom would be so happy to see this now.

This was hers, you know.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked at the ring again, the vintage cut of the diamond now obvious to her. “Oh, Pete.”

His eyes grew glassy, and Penny immediately wrapped him in an embrace.

“I love you, Pen.”

She could hear the emotion in his voice, and she held on tighter, matching his own grip on her. “I love you too.”

When she felt his hold on her loosen, she pulled back, cupping his face in her hands. “You okay?”

Mav leaned into her touch. “I am now.”

“Good.”

“The kids should have dinner ready by now.” He sniffled, clearly thinking of something. Finally, he asked, “Uh, would you mind… helping me up?

My uh, knee is a little stiff.”

Penny chuckled, shifting her hands to help her now-fiancé up, a surprised little yelp escaping her when Mav spun the two of them in a circle, his joyful laugh singing through the air.

Mav took in the scene at the dining table before him like it was a fine wine; Amelia and Bradley were animatedly sharing stories from high school, trying to see who had the weirdest stories, both of them sending him “Can you believe this?” glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking; Amelia’s bracelet catching the light as she swept her hand in an expansive gesture; Penny at his side laughing at the stories Amelia and Bradley were telling, while she repetitively ran her thumb across his knuckles, his mother’s ring sparkling on her hand.

He never in a million years could have imagined he’d have this at this point in his life; in all honesty, he had been prepared to burn in over some foreign sea or land, decades ago.

But here he was.

And if not for his wingman ordering him to teach an impossible mission, this reality would doubtlessly be impossible.

Gratitude filled his heart, and he sent a thought to the heavens; “Thank you, Ice—for everything.”

High above the San Diego night sky, a singular star blinked, sending back, even though its intended recipient would never know; “You’re welcome, Mav.”

Title is from the song of the same name.

(I really like to name stories after songs, don’t I?)

I headcanon Mav as being neurodivergent, and for me, as someone with ADHD, more often than not, having something else to focus on in the background, helps me get something that I am directly focused on done.

Invisible nail polish does exist, though let’s suspend our disbelief about how dark it can turn if the pre-change color is clear…

The charms I describe are real—you can see the bird charm here, and Pandora does offer an engraving service to make charms with your handwriting on them!

I’ll leave it up to your imagination as to who Bradley purchased Pandora for…

(That’s not teasing, I’m genuinely leaving it up to you)

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

#mavdad is the best dad #i wrote this instead of sleeping #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fic #mavdad #pennymav #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #penny benjamin #amelia benjamin #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw

[felicitysmoaksx]

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for sticking with this story! This chapter while on the shorter side took a while to find its voice because I had an idea that wasn't going the way I wanted it to. So I scraped part of it and kept some of it. And this is my Frankenstein chapter. Hopefully, there won't be such a long gap between this chapter and the next. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Mature

Summary:   Her eyes squeezed shut before she dropped her head. Borrowed time. It was meant to be her…It was meant to be-

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Complications with a birth that end in death are mentioned, but don't go into great detail, and heavy survivor's guilt.

Read On AO3 |  Fic Playlist | Fic Playlist but Less Shippy | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

“I loved the stories you and Sarah shared about Justin,” Natalie said with a laugh to Tucker while they were both in the kitchen getting a drink. If he hadn’t already said that he spent almost every day here, how easily he navigated this kitchen would’ve said that for him. The man nodded, laughing along with her.

“I still can’t believe Hank knew about the concert in New York and didn’t bust us for it,” Tucker shook his head, grabbing a beer out of the fridge while handing Natalie another water. 

Usually, he’d stop drinking after one beer, so he could drive home. But he wasn’t driving home because he was staying here. Olive was having trouble sleeping alone in Justin’s room by herself, so Tuck offered to blow up the air mattress and shove it in between the foot of the bed and the desk like he used to when he slept over so she could have some company. If the roles had been reversed, Justin would’ve done the same for Leah. He even thought he heard Annie say she and Erin were spending the night too and with Travis and Autumn taking Sarah and Erin’s old room…Maybe he should offer the air mattress to one of them and he just tough it out with a pillow and blanket on the floor. It was carpeted…

“I’m probably being nosy but I have a question that’s just been bugging me for a while,” Nat told him in an almost guilty tone. 

“Okay,” Tucker said feeling curious. 

“Autumn, I’m wondering why she follows Sarah like-”

“Like a little duckling following behind its Momma?” He finished for her and the female doctor nodded, “I asked Sarah about it…Actually, I assumed she was Autumn’s mother before I remembered that wasn’t possible because she would’ve had to be born right around the time Owen was…but she gave me a vague answer about it taking a village.” 

“When Leah gave birth to Autumn, it was like Murphy’s law. Anything that could go wrong, did. Preeclampsia but we already knew that it developed at the same time as her gestational diabetes. The doctors were slightly concerned but they said they’d monitor it and everything should’ve been fine.” Tucker's face twisted, while he watched his daughter clammer up into the brunette’s lap, “But we weren’t counting on there being a placenta abruption too.”

“Oh god,” Natalie breathed, second-hand dread filling up her stomach. Tucker swallowed. “Leah passed away due to labor complications and the doctors said Autumn almost went with her. They said my little girl was lucky to be alive,” 

“I-I am so sorry,” Natalie said, her heart breaking for both the man in front of her and the little girl. 

“So flash forward to two hours later? I’m not sure about the time. Most of that day is a blur, but I texted Sarah to let her know Autumn was here because Leah and I had decided we wanted it to be just us in the delivery room.”

He paused, shaking his head. “Justin was serving his year in jail, so we hadn’t seen each other as much because he was our bridge. Up until Autumn’s birth, Leah saw Sarah more than I did. Because I wasn’t sure if we were friends just because we were both Justin’s friends.” 

“What made you realize you were friends and not just because of Justin?”

“She showed up at Lakeshore Memorial. Now I remember this part perfectly, and I think it’s because of how surreal the situation felt. I told her, ‘Leah’s gone, and not only do I have to raise a baby by myself, which I have no clue how to do by myself, but I also have to bury my wife.’”

Natalie didn’t know who she felt worse for, because she had been in Tucker’s shoes with Jeff. But also for Sarah to hear something so jarring. Tucker smiled now, even if it trembled a little at the edges.

“And my best friend, the one who claims to have no maternal instincts, took it all in stride, squared her shoulders in a very Camillie Voight way, and I know you don’t know Ms. Camillie but trust me, I got chills. She said we’d figure it out together and we did.” Tucker shrugged, “She was with me every step of the way and yeah, I had a village between Hank, Erin, Annie, Justin when he got out, and Olive when she came along. Leah’s parents. Even my parents, but they’re older because they had me late in life so Sarah was…is…”

“You’re main support system,” the woman finished for him. He nodded, not even mentioning that the brunette practically lived at his house the first year of Autumn’s life. Because that’s how long it took him to get the hang of the whole parenting thing. That Sarah had to give him a crash course in everything baby. That Sarah changed her whole schedule around in her last year as a medical student, so that he could work at night and when he tried to thank her for it, she waved him off. Because that’s what best friend’s did.

 “She’s never tried to be Leah, and Autumn has other women in her life, but Sarah is her mother figure. The one she looks to first after me…Sometimes before me. I’m probably not explaining it right…” 

“No,” she reassured him because she got it, understood it. Will had been that for her, never replacing Jeff, but offering a support system all the same. “I understand what you’re trying to say.” 

 [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Can we talk?” Hank asked later that night after almost everyone had left. He had found Sarah in the backyard, staring at her tree with Connor’s suit jacket wrapped around her frame. The stark white gauze stuck out to him in the dead of the night. Like a reminder of what they had lost and what was almost lost. He turned and sat down next to where Sarah was sitting with her knees tucked in tight.  It had been Camille’s idea to plant two trees; one for each girl so they knew they had roots with the Voight family, when Erin and Sarah came to live with them.

For a second, he wondered if his youngest daughter heard him as she continued to stare ahead. Then she glanced sideways at him as she spoke quietly, “I hate when you say it like that. Quiet. Gentle. Like you’re trying to approach a deer without scaring it. Reminds me of when I used to get in trouble as a kid.”

“I was more stern than that,” Hank disagreed, with a shake of his head as he took a seat beside her. Sarah’s lips twitched as if she wanted to smile. But she hadn’t smiled since earlier when Tucker had made her laugh. He sighed, burying his hands in his coat pockets. “I’m worried about you, kid.”

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” She asked in a dry voice. When her joke missed its mark, Sarah shook her head. “I’m not your responsibility anymore, Hank.” 

(Sarah didn’t know that Hank refrained from commenting on her calling him Dad all day and now it was suddenly Hank?)  

“You’re my kid,” her pseudo-father disagreed quietly, looking at the young woman he had known since she was eight years old and took into his home at eleven, “It’s always going to be my responsibility to worry about you.”

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“He’s worried about her,” Erin said quietly to Alvin as she started filling up the sink to wash the dishes. Most of everybody was gone after the emotionally draining day. The ones to linger were family, Tucker with Autumn, and Annie with Travis, Connor, their unit, Trudy, and Sarah’s co-workers from Med. 

“I think he has a right to. Doesn’t he? You probably remember it clearer than I do because you actually saw it while I only heard about it secondhand. You remember how hard Sarah took it after Camille died.”

Erin’s eyes widened as she turned to stare at the older cop. Because she did remember it. When everything with Sarah and Justin being shot, she didn’t even think about Sarah spiraling like she had with Camille’s death. 

Because there wasn’t a version of the world where Sarah and Justin both didn’t make it through this. And yet, here they were in a world post-Justin Voight. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Al,” her voice broke, tears threatening to spill over. 

“I know. But it did. And now Hank is doing what he can to make sure she doesn’t disappear again.”

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“I think you need to talk to someone,” Hank wasn’t sure how else to say it. How did he explain how much his youngest daughter was scaring him because he wasn’t even sure she was allowing herself to grieve. How could he ask her to see someone when she was a physiatrist? When she could probably see the signs, but was more than likely actively ignoring them in favor of anger?  When Sarah remained silent, he continued. “Sarah, I know you’re angry-”

“Of course I’m angry!” Sarah exploded, standing up. She paced a few steps forward before she whirled around to face her pseudo-father. Her arms flailed out in anger while tears welled up in her eyes. “Because no one understands that I’m the reason Justin is dead! If he hadn’t been protecting me…he’d still be here! No, instead they’re comforting me and checking on me when I don’t deserve that because the truth is I got your son killed, Hank.”

#one chicago #chicago med #chicago pd #Sarah Reese #hank voight #erin lindsay #my writing

[yurisorcerer]

I watch these episodes with a group of friends. All of us are Millennials, somewhere around 30ish give or take a few, and it takes a lot to get a crowd like that to go fully silent for any amount of time during an episode of a kids' anime. Pretty Cure managed it this week, with what is possibly the most affecting episode of any anime that aired in general this past week; given that we're only a few days out from the explosive eighth episode of Girls Band Cry, that's really saying something.

This episode marks Cure Nyammy's formal, confirmed, on-screen debut. Although given that she's still playing the loner card of not wanting Mayu to get hurt, and is thus not presently cooperating with the other two Precure, we can fudge the day by a few weeks depending on how future episodes go. Still, what's been obvious for weeks has now been explicitly confirmed on-screen; Mayu's mysterious protector is none other than her cat Yuki, who is also the coolest, coldest, cuntiest---with apologies to any actual kids reading this---Precure the show has had in years. In fact, I'll go ahead and say we haven't gotten one who serves this hard since at least Cure La Mer, and I might be willing to go several seasons farther back to Kira Kira A La Mode's Cure Macaron, depending. We've had some great Cures since then, but none of them have been this.

More than that, though, this episode is about regrets. Or rather about how Mayu shouldn't have them. At one point, during an otherwise very pleasant and cute day out with her friends, Mayu voices that she wishes she had met Yuki earlier---Mayu literally found Yuki outside in the snow, her namesake, recall---so that the white cat didn't have to spend so many cold nights alone. Yuki, when circumstances and a particularly nasty tiger garugaru force her hand into revealing herself as Cure Nyammy, is not having that. She doesn't want Mayu to apologize, not for anything she did in the past, and not for anything she's doing now. A relevant reassurance, given that Mayu nearly gets herself killed by trying to save a baby duckling in this episode.

Nyammy's henshin sequence deserves a mention, here. This is probably the most eye-popping we've had in a long, long time (to again compare to prior seasons, I think you have to go back to Cure Cosmo to find one this insanely dynamic). She deserves it; the kitty cat Cure subdues the tiger Garugaru easily, leaving cleanup for Wonderful and Friendy. She also tells Mayu to keep being kind, the same sort of kind that led to her taking Yuki in in the first place. There's a fantasy at play, here, the idea that, hopefully, if your pets could talk to you, this is the sort of thing they'd say. We'd all be lucky to be in Mayu's position. We'd be lucky to be in Yuki's, too.

Things end on a tense note, as Yuki tells the other two Precure to stop getting Mayu involved in so many dangerous situations. Things aren't resolved, and any followup on that has to wait for next week, but the lessons learned and emotions felt here are real. No regrets, not even for a second.

#wonderful precure #yurisorcerer talks about media

[inchidentally]

Firstly just want to say I love your posts and opinions <3 Sorry this is a bit long, I only lurk around so I wanted to share my thoughts with someone (if that’s alright!)

As a Lando fan through all his teammates, I really love his dynamic with Oscar the most. I love that Lando always brings up how good Oscar is (even though everyone in the world loves to spread the narrative that Lando is washed because a rookie beat him*), and I love that Oscar is always supportive of Lando’s achievements too. They both put the team first before all else, and what happens in the race will stay in the race (no hard feelings after). Despite what the media pushes them to say or the narratives in articles, they both have a quiet understanding of each other and a lot of respect. What they have now is really sweet and I’m really hoping none of this would change for the years to come, even if they have a race winning car. Of course as a Lando fan first, I want him to win all the races, and I’m sure Oscar fans want Oscar to win all the races, but I hope that everyone can also learn to let what happens in a race stay in the race, just like them. For me anyone who shades/hates on either of them in any way just gets an instant block, I don’t want to hear it <3

*I hate how people always turn to shitting on Lando instead of saying Oscar is also good and equally competent?? I know Lando is supposed to be more experienced but he’s also young and he’s apparently never allowed to make mistakes. And I think not giving Oscar the credit is also disrespectful to him.

I also do hope this year they are even more comfortable with each other and will hang out more outside of races (even if they don’t share it). More than the media stuff, I am always so much more happy when they do something on their own, like how we found out Oscar was also in one of the planes from the recreating Instagram photos video, or that photo of them playing cards, that photo of them eating together in the paddock, or “what happened in Vegas stays in Vegas” that still haunts my mind….. (hate Vegas GP though, burn it).

tldr; Oscar is good for Lando and Lando has always been good in Oscar’s eyes, and can next season come faster

tysm anon and I'm sorry to be so late replying !!

god I am the same anon - I don't personally have favorites bc his dynamic with Carlos and Daniel was so much abt him being the baby duckling (and that on track Lando struggled privately w insecurity so much his rookie season whereas his confidence was building separate from what Daniel was experiencing). but what I love about the Oscar era is the way Lando just like, blossomed into McLaren being his home and his team when Oscar made such strong gestures to acknowledge Lando that way.

like so many ppl questioned Lando's ability to be in the senior/experienced/leadership role and wondered if he'd always prefer to be a little brother for a couple more years yet (and I think Lando wondered that too).

god yea I am so happy to leave ppl who try to pit teammates against each other in their own filth. like, enjoy being full of impotent rage ig?? bc apart from a VERY few instances these teammates are always able to be professional - and if they were already friends, remain friends. not only has Andrea instilled this from the start with Lando and Oscar, neither of them literally ever has had a history of friction w teammates or w each other. we've been through Monza before their relationship had even gotten settled so we're fine lol

and anon so far I'm genuinely amazed at how much content we're getting of them, of their own volition and McLaren's sm. the McLaren media fell off so hard right when the double podiums happened so I was worried that was how it was going to stay for 2024. hopefully stays this way!

#inchreplies

[can-of-pringles]

Keep You Safe From the Nightmares

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Just a little bit of angst but mostly fluff.

Word Count: 716

Summary: Rosie has a nightmare and Peter comforts her.

Note: Rosie is 7 in this.

Also Read on AO3

Rosie tossed and turned in her bed; struggling with her nightmare. She unknowingly gripped the bedsheets tightly.

“No…” She whimpered in her sleep.

Rosie quickly sat up in bed, gasping while trying to get her breathing back under control. Her heart raced, feeling as if it would burst out of her chest. She broke down and started to cry loudly. Her body shuddered with each sob and she buried her face in her blankets. Tears spilled and fell, dampening her blankets.

Peter and Marigold ran into her room. Their eyes glanced around for an obvious threat.

“Rosie, are you hurt or scared?” Marigold asked, concern heard in her voice.

“S-Scared.” Rosie cried.

A flicker of relief showed on both of the parent’s faces once they realized that physically, their daughter was okay. It disappeared when they remembered the current problem.

“I think it’s another nightmare. I can handle this one. Go back to sleep.” Peter whispered to his wife.

“Are you sure?” She furrowed her brows.

“Yeah, go, it’s fine,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Marigold hesitantly nodded before leaving.

Peter moved to sit near the end of Rosie’s bed, a small frown on his face. “Rosie, take a big breath and let it out.” He demonstrated for her. “See? It’s easy. Big breath in… big breath out.”

Rosie started to copy him, hiccuping from crying at first.

“Good, you’ve got it. Deep breath in… and out…”

Rosie successfully got her breathing back under control. She sighed and wiped her eyes.

“Good girl. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

She sniffled, rubbing her sore eyes. Rosie glanced down, hair falling in her face. Peter moved the hair out of her eyes. His thumb brushed her cheek.

“I… I had a nightmare.” She stammered.

“Yeah?” Peter sighed, opening his arms for a hug. “Do you want to talk about it? Or just a hug?”

“Both.” Rosie immediately took the chance, holding onto her father tight, feeling safe in his hug.

“In my dream… I was using my powers. But I couldn’t figure out how to turn them off. No one could see me, no one could hear me, even when I shouted.” She felt tears prick her eyes again. “I was gone…” She whispered. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

He wiped away the tears with his thumb. “I’m sorry, duckling.” Peter kissed the top of her head. “It was definitely a dream because I can see and hear you clearly.”

“It felt so real…” Rosie muttered. “What if it happens?” She glanced up at him with dread in her eyes.

“Has there ever been a time when you struggled to turn visible again? Have you ever fought with your powers, failing to get them to cooperate?” He asked.

She thought about it for a moment, eventually shaking her head.

“What about people not hearing you? Even after trying to get their attention.”

Rosie shook her head. “I was crying and you and Mommy heard me.”

“So then, what makes you think it’ll happen?” Peter questioned.

She hummed. Eyebrows knitted in thought as she considered his words.

“I think you have a point…”

“‘Course I do. I’m your father, which means I know everything.” He joked.

Rosie giggled, already starting to forget about her scary nightmare.

“There’s that adorable smile I love!” Peter booped her nose, and she laughed more, pushing his hand away. “Do you think you can go back to sleep?”

“Maybe… I don’t know…” Rosie murmured, glancing away while fidgeting with her hands.

“That’s alright. I’ll just stay here until you fall asleep. Is that okay?”

Rosie nodded, smiling. She settled back under the covers. Peter handed her Duck, and she held the lovie tight.

“Hopefully Mari won’t miss me much.” He muttered under his breath, moving to lie down next to her. “Just close your eyes, it’ll be ok. Hope I won’t fall asleep too…”

“What if I have another nightmare?” She frowned, clutching Duck tighter.

“If you do, I’ll be here when you wake up, okay? I promise I’ll keep you safe.” He assured.

She nodded and snuggled down into her sheets again.

Peter wrapped an arm around her. “Sleep.” He whispered.

“Good night,” she said, closing her eyes.

“Good night, sweetheart,”

#xmen oc au #peter maximoff #quicksilver #dad!peter maximoff #xmen oc #rose rosales maximoff #spectra #marigold rosales #leapsecond #quicksecond #xmen fanfiction #my writing #pringles writing

[allylikethecat]

not the same anon buuuut i would really love a 🦆 update

is fictional! matty still in the corner for trying to make unsanctioned bad choices in that one?

Hello Anon!

Hopefully the Ducklings update will be ready for Tuesday 👀 Fictional!Matty and I seem to have reached a compromise and he's being let out of his time out corner... hopefully we can keep it up to finish the chapter! I'm so happy to hear that you're enjoying Ducklings though and I'm so sorry there was such a delay between chapters! Hopefully that will be remedied moving forward! I hope you enjoy the new chapter and look forward to hearing your thoughts! Thank you again for reading and for your continued support! I hope you have a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

#allylikethecat #ask ally #anon ask #fanfiction #keep it kind #matty fic #gatty #Make Way for Ducklings #mpreg #thankfully fictional!matty and i are playing nice now #hopefully it lasts and we're able to get the next few chapters finished! #after much debate im excited about where this new update is going #i hope you like it and look forward to hearing your thoughts!

[rockingrobin69]

The Possibly Grave Case of Madeleines

Harry’s already put down the knitting when the doorbell went off again. He hasn’t fixed it, so it still shrieked rather than rang: door! Like a crow learning how to speak, with all the enthusiasm that might entail. Door! Door! Door!

“All right, all right, I’m coming,” Harry murmured into his house coat, wrapping up tight. On the other side of door, looking like he could effectively murder someone, was young Lord Malfoy himself. Or—perhaps he didn’t go by that name anymore. Maybe now he was just Draco. Maybe Harry could ask him if it would be all right to call him that.

“Erm,” Lord maybe Draco cleared his throat. “Mr. Potter. Good morning.”

“Morning,” Harry swallowed. Malfoy smelled like his pipe, like morning air and horses and rain. Or maybe not rain, but certainly wet; and perhaps it was less a smell, more the way his hair clung to his head, little-baby-duckling form.

“I was—may I come in?”

“Of course.” Harry stepped aside, eyes still glued to the tight riding leathers. “Shall I put on the kettle?”

“Please, I’m dying for a tea. Not dying. Very much alive, if only for the time being. But I would very much like a cup of tea.”

Harry paused on the way to the kitchen to look back, eyebrow all the way up. “Pardon?”

Lo-Mal-Draco sighed. “I’m sorry to be bothering you with this petty business so early in the morning, but I’m afraid something’s afoot. After the grand job you did at Lancashire, I thought perhaps I could use your remarkable skills once again.”

The blush came on in bits and pieces, warm on his face. “I wasn’t exactly… just happened to be… would love to be use—of use—do you really think you’re in danger?”

“Not enough to warrant further delay on the tea, no.”

He chuckled, surprising himself. Malfoy looked very pretty when he was pleased. “All right. Have a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

Harry busied himself with the kettle until he wasn’t so embarrassingly red anymore, then came to the sitting room with the brew he knew Draco preferred, and a lemon madeleine too, his favourite. Not that Harry had been making those every day. Just that baking was such a splendid way to spend his time.

“This is very intriguing work,” His-former-Lordship commented, pointing at the project entangled on the knitting needles. “If I may venture a guess, is that to be a hat?”

“Gloves,” Harry smiled. “Perhaps you should leave the guesswork to me.”

“You are quite good at it,” Draco conceded, and strangely he was smiling too. Harry rarely ever saw him smile, in Lancashire. It was such a breathtaking difference. “Despite the fact you are not classically trained, and ardently refuse to work with the local department.”

“It’s not fun if it’s work,” Harry said delicately, and decided—on a mad whim—to sit next to him on the settee. “But I am very glad you think so highly of me. So, would you like to tell me what’s going on?”

Malfoy took a deep breath.

“It began last week, when the cottage in Wiltshire started spewing frogs from the chimney. Spellwork gone wrong, I thought at first. Gave it no mind. Caught all the frogs and released them at the lake. Then, four days ago, one of the houses in Surrey collapsed—termites, they said. Just two days ago, if you can imagine, the west wing of the castle in Fife caught fire—no one was in at the time, luckily—and then, if you can believe it, the final straw. My city flat has been entirely ruined by a miscast weather-storm from the family upstairs. Everything is ruined—everything.”

Harry let the rant dissipate into another gulp of tea, worryingly amused. “A rather large case of ill luck, it sounds.”

“Or something graver,” Draco said hopefully. “It could be something graver, still. Hypothetically speaking.”  

“Hmm. I suppose.”

“That’s four of the former-Malfoy estates, all in the scope of a week,” he argued. “I was going to ask—feel free to say no, of course, the request is entirely mad. But do you think I could, perhaps, for the time being, until we got a better idea of the situation—could I perhaps stay with you?” his eyelashes were so long, blinking quickly over grey-grey eyes. “For my safety only, of course. Nothing… improper.”

“Never,” Harry said, fighting back the glee. Malfoy had plenty of places he could go, all of his friends and extended Black family to stay with, the bloody police he liked so much for help. And he came here. For his safety only, naturally.

“So, what do you say? Would it be possible for me to…”

“Of course,” Harry cut him off, and the hand that ended on his thigh was purely unintentional. “Of course, stay for as long as you like. I have all the madeleines you could want and a considerable supply of your favourite tea.”

“You’re a godsend, Harry Potter,” Draco closed his eyes and leaned back. “I appreciate it. I could pay you, of course, it’s not a matter of—”

“I don’t think that would be necessary. This isn’t my job, after all.” Harry gave him a gleaming smile. “Perhaps you could help me with my knitting in return.”

“Certainly a worthy cause,” Draco said, and it was settled.

For the incredible @saintgarbanzo, 900 words. You can prompt me too!    

#drarry #fic #900 words #murder mystery vibes but no murder #Lord Draco #former? #Draco is splitting up the Malfoy estate and BOY has he got ideas #knitting harry #RockingRobin69

[leviathanverse]

Chapter 27: Transportation

Yami heard snarls from behind her and instinctively pulled out her tranquilizer gun and shot the creature blindly.

She turned around and saw another dragon. She had blindly shot it right on the arm where the soft tissue was.

The tranquilizer was strong enough to knock it out before it could even do anything to her. It whined when it saw the other two large dragons, before it fell unconscious. She huffed and got out more rope.

" Make that five cages."

She tied the dragon up, making sure that the rope was double knotted. She tied up its wings, using some metal rope to ensure that the sharp edges wouldn't cut the other rope.

Just as she got done, she heard vehicles. She grinned as she knew exactly what it meant and hummed.

She walked to the border of the forest and saw that they had an extra vehicle for the aquatic dragon.

" Turns out that there was a fifth dragon. I'll take the two enemies with me, as the other truck wouldn't be useful to carry two people and an aquatic dragon."

" What about the crane?"

" We can use it to carry the tank of the aquatic dragon."

She talked with her hunters, explaining on how they would transport the five dragons and the aquatic dragon without any issues.

She saw her men control the crane to get the red dragon on the first truck and then the smaller one.

She led the men to where the other dragons were. She pointed at the aquatic dragon, not turning her head away from it.

" Get gloves to ensure that the Eeltailed- Sirenwraith doesn't get injured while handling. We don't know if they are like electric eels."

She pointed at the three larger ones and turned her head to look at the group of men. She gave them all a stern look, narrowing her eyes to show her seriousness.

" Destroy the trees, or whatever to get to these big guys. Make a clearing or something."

She kept talking, explaining on how to not injure the feathered one and the one with larger and thinner wings.

" Get two of the remaining men to carry these two."

She pointed at Zika and Y/n, frowning as she gritted her teeth. She had to suck in a deep breathe to ensure she wouldn't explode.

" I'll use my car to transport them."

" Where are we taking them?"

She turned her head to look at the hunter that had asked her. She forgot to tell them where they were heading once they loaded the cargo. Oops.

" Follow my car. We are taking them to a place where these two will be killed."

She kept pointing at her two enemies. As if they had insulted her with the most incredibly foul words on the planet.

" Roger that. Let's move!"

She followed the men back to the truck, walked to her car and opened the back door. She began to make enough space for her enemies.

She had to take responsibility for if they tried to escape in the trucks. To free the dragons if they ever got out of their bindings.

She didn't like- WANT to take responsibility for if the transportation failed because of the two people. They would make her plans even more difficult.

Hopefully the ride and transportation went smoothly.

" Follow me! This way!"

She pulled her head out of her car, seeing the three trucks follow the crane. It reminded her of a mother duck taking her ducklings to the pond or dam.

She shook her head to get rid of that thought. She had to focus at the task at hand. Not focus on how the crane and three trucks reminded her of ducks.

" Mrs. Ito?"

She turned around to see two of her men carrying Y/n and Zika on their shoulders. She stepped put of the way and allowed them to place the two inside.

They wanted to put seatbelts on to prevent injuries, but she sighed and commanded them not to.

" Don't. If they get injured to the point they bleed, then it will increase the chances of being eaten."

" Sorry, boss... didn't mean to do something without your command."

She sighed, rolling her eyes as she closed the door after they had stepped away from her car.

" It's fine. But ask me next time. We don't want my temper to get out of hand, now do we?"

She saw them start to sweat bullets. She saw them shift on their feet uncomfortably. They had seen her explode before.

And it had not been a pretty sight. She had caused a crime scene last time by killing some of her men from her blinding rage.

She understood why they were uncomfortable when she mentioned her exploding. She couldn't blame them. But it did increase her reputation as their boss.

" Ye-yes! W-we do-do-don't w-wan-want that to h-hap-p-pen!"

The poor man on the left shook in fear as he spoke. He even stuttered! She only sighed and got into the driver's seat.

" Just get in the trucks and tell me when you are done loading the cargo."

" Actually... we just got done loading the last dragon... we... we can go now..."

" Good. Get in the trucks. And I'll lead you to where we are going to drop them off."

" Yes boss!"

She saw them run to the trucks and climb in. She started her car and stepped on the gas, putting the car in drive and drove.

The trucks and crane followed her car. She didn't worry about them being seen, as the location they were heading to was in the middle of nowhere.

Located away from towns and cities alike. Away from any possible people that were suspicious and were spies.

She silently drove, the trucks following after her car like a mother duck taking her ducklings to the pond or dam.

" I really need to stop thinking of ducks like I am some child. Fuck. I am a grown ass adult. Not a six year old."

She muttered angrily. She was angry with herself for thinking of ducks.

" I should really stop watching documentaries of ducks. I can't even focus."

She rubbed her eye with her left hand, using the other to turn the steering wheel. She was tired and needed some sleep.

Maybe drinking six cups of coffee wasn't a good idea, because now she was tired but couldn't go to sleep. Like an insomniac.

At least she could get the first step of disposing and killing Y/n and Zika off of her chest.

Oh, the betrayal from Y/n's face would be priceless. To see your best friend betray you? She was thrilled to see betrayal on their face.

But now, she had to focus on getting the cargo to the dragon fighting arena. She'll execute her plan there.

She grinned. Betrayal from the one's that thought that she was on their side made her shiver in delight.

She couldn't wait to reveal who she really was. The delight she would have to see the look of betrayal on everyone's faces! The thrill! It made her chuckle.

She had to wait though, be patient as it would only be a matter of when she'll put her entire plan into action. She will enjoy every second of betrayal from the HQ.

Previous <-•-> Next

#demon slayer #hantengu clones dragon au #dragon hantengu clones au #angry oc with a hatred for humans #the hunter assassin book #hantengu #sekido #urogi #karate #karaku #aizetsu #zohakuten

[audioaujom]

4: He's Got a Dream!

CHTangled Hub, <prev, next>

Hi! I’m impressed I managed to finish this on time since I spent the last week both on vacation and working on another fic, and all day today moping about and playing Stardew instead of working. Anyway, here’s what I got done! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2657

--

“Hey, what’s that?” Zac grabbed a rather annoyed Emily by the arm, breaking off a long ramble he'd been on about the softness of grass that had really worn down the thief's patience. Not to mention that the chameleon—Lou, Zac insisted—seemed to be following along better than her.

“Oh, that’s… nothing important.” Emily squinted her eyes at the sign for the tavern, recognizing it with a grimace. She switched up her grip so now she was holding onto Zac, starting to pull him back towards the woods. “Hey, didn’t you want to see those lanterns? We shouldn't be late!”

“‘The Snuggly Duckling’?” Zac read off slowly, surprisingly strong as Emily couldn't pull hard enough to actually budge him. “I love ducklings!”

In an instant, Emily changed her mind.

“...we can go in, if you’d like.” She let go, smiling hopefully sweet enough that Zac wouldn’t question her abrupt change. Knowing the kind of people that frequented that tavern, Zac would last all of thirty seconds before he’d be running off home and she’d be home free. 

“Really?” Zac brightened up so much she felt a twinge of guilt. “I can go in?”

She frowned. There was only so much of this she could take in a day. “You don’t need my permission.” 

“Yay!” Zac took off jogging for the front door, Emily racing to keep up. This could be risky, but if it got her as far away from whatever Zac’s situation was it was a risk worth taking.

Zac, on the other hand, was thrilled.

A real tavern? With real people? Emily wasn't scary at all, and if she wasn't scary then Brennan was wrong since he’d said all people were scary, so maybe the people in here would be nice, too. 

That thought died in the same instant it formed as Zac slammed open the tavern door, the entire crowd of people inside all stopping their chatter at the same time to turn and stare at him—not to mention Lou on his shoulder.

The room looked exactly the way it always had in Zac’s nightmares.

Every patron was armed to the teeth, with swords and axes rusted with what Zac assumed to be blood littered on the floor and tables and with heavy helmets and armor spiked and chipped with use. Everyone shot nasty glares at the open door and two intruders, all with rather scary looking faces.

“Well, whaddaya think?” Emily grinned as she grabbed Zac’s shaking shoulders, free arm out wide to be mindful of Lou. “Is it everything you'd hoped it’d be?” 

“What is this place?” Zac stood frozen with Emily draped over him, mouth agape as he stared around in unmasked horror.

“Just a normal tavern full of normal people.” Emily lied smoothly, anxious to leave as she felt every eye in the room scrutinizing them both. “Say, if you think these people are scary, you should see what else is out there!”

Zac paled. “He… was right?” 

Emily felt another twinge of guilt, but told herself she was in too deep to back out now. She used her arm to gently guide Zac back towards the door, still smiling. “I guess so! Let's get you back home then, yeah?”

The two stopped in the doorway as one of the patrons threw an arm out in front of them, using his other one to point at a nearby ‘Wanted’ poster with a half-way decent drawing of Emily's face on it. In her humble opinion, they never quite managed to capture her true beauty, but they tried.

“This you?” He asked, voice deep and gravelly as Emily did her best to try and duck her and Zac under his arm and get outside.

“As much as I'd love to say I look as dashing and beautiful as that fair lady, I—”

She was cut off by another person getting up and grabbing her by the shoulders, taking one good look at the poster and her face before yanking her away from the door. “Yeah, it's her.”

“Hey! Wait!” Zac reached out to stop them but was a moment too late, his protest drowned out in bickering that quickly started up among the crowd.

“Greno, go get the guards.” Someone in the back bellowed, before pushing to the front of the crowd as someone by the door turned and ran out. He grabbed Emily by the front of her shirt with one hand, brandishing his other—that had been replaced by a ruggedly sharp hook—by placing it up against her throat. “Your reward will buy me a brand new hook.”

“Hey, why should you get the reward?” The one who had identified her—a huge man in a fur coat—complained, smacking the man’s hook away and grabbing hold of her instead. “I saw her first!”

“Well, I'm broke, so I should get it!” A man in a huge metal helmet that covered his face and had horns sticking out of the top yanked her away from the previous guy, before she got whisked away again into the crowd with a half-panicked, “Can't we talk about this, fellas?”

Zac listened to their loud overlapping arguments about who would get the reward, trying to interject with a feeble shout of, “Give her back! I kind of need her!”

No one in the tavern paid him any mind, Zac watching Emily’s composure slip the further the argument progressed. She’d been cocky and… suave? Was that the word he was looking for? Maybe. But she’d been consistent since he met her in the tower, and seeing her shaken had him glancing around the deserted tables, fireplace, and bar for anything he could use to maybe help out. She’d gotten him this far, after all.

It was then he spotted the discarded frying pan near the cooking fire, lighting up with familiarity as he picked it up and tested its weight. He felt a sudden surge of confidence as he held the weapon in his hands, turning back to face the arguing mass of… thugs. These are thugs.

“Give me back my guide!” He demanded, pointing the pan at the thugs in the same way he’d done when playing knights with Lou, who perked up on his shoulder and pointed at the crowd as well. This still didn’t seem to phase the crowd, though, who settled down with Emily hidden in the middle. Zac looked at Lou, who nodded, rolling with this newfound attitude he had to step forward to hit the largest thug upside the head with the frying pan with an exasperated shout of, “What is wrong with you people?!”

He was unfazed by the entire tavern of stares this time, panting heavily as he held the frying pan out once again, Lou chittering in agreement from his shoulder.

“I need her to take me to see the lanterns, which has been this huge lifelong dream of mine and she is going to help me do it! Haven’t any of you crazy people ever had a dream?!”

One of the men arguing over Emily—the one with a hook for a hand—stepped forward first, glaring down at Zac before his gaze softened ever so slightly. “I… had a dream once.” 

The energy in the room shifted as Zac and Lou stared up at him curiously, the former hesitantly asking, frying pan still outstretched, “...what was it? Your dream.”

“Would you believe me if I said I wanted to play piano?” Hook, as Zac dubbed him in his head, suddenly looked far smaller and less intimidating as he blushed awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck with his human hand. “This hook really does a bad thing for my image as a musician…”

“I bet your playing is lovely.” Zac smiled encouragingly, glancing over at the piano in the corner. Maybe these people weren’t so bad!

Hook followed his gaze, lighting up and running over to sit on the stool before he started to play an upbeat melody that had Zac bouncing on his feet excitedly. “You’re so good!”

“I have a dream, too!” A guy from the back piped up, running up to stand beside the piano as he placed one hand on his chest and dramatically declared, “I… want to fall in love!”

“Love? That’s so sweet!” Ecstatic, Zac jumped up onto a nearby table with a laugh as the crowd started chattering among themselves about being the next to speak up.

“I know I’m not the most attractive fellow, but… one day, wouldn’t it be nice to go out for a boat ride with someone who loves me?”

Zac had no idea what this guy was talking about, but maybe he hadn’t seen enough people yet to judge. What’s the big deal about a big nose and a lopsided smile? “That would be the best!” 

“Tor, what about you?” The guy on stage turned to the audience, calling out to a guy who carried a shield that still had fresh arrows sticking out of it.

“I… like making flower arrangements much more than fighting.” Tor admitted, poking at the place setting of a nearby table that had a rather exquisite setting of skulls and flowers.

Emily, once again, was completely fucking dumbfounded.

Who exactly was Zac? With one simple question he turned this entire tavern of heartless looking mercenaries into a room full of potential friends, also drawing their attention away from turning her in. She blinked, then blinked again, staring up at the strange boy with a chameleon and a frying pan and found herself questioning her life choices. “What… is happening right now?” 

“I’d love nothing more than to do interior design.” A fellow shyly spoke up from the middle of the pack, wandering over to a nearby wall and straightening the only piece of art hanging in the entire establishment. He then pointed into the crowd at someone else, declaring, “And I know Ulf likes to mime.”

The man he pointed out immediately put his hands up to mime an imaginary box, Zac riling the crowd up to cheer loudly, encouraging more admissions (and more cheering) from the assembled group.

“I like to bake!” 

“Bruiser here knits!” 

“Well, Killer sews!”

The room only briefly quieted as one particular guy moved to stand behind the piano that Hook was still playing at, one hand popping up into everyone’s view with a small, felt dragon covering it.

“...I like to do little puppet shows.” He said quietly, before the crowd went wild again. “It’s nothing serious…”

Emily looked between everyone’s wide smiles, more confused by the second. “Seriously, what the hell is going on?”

“Vladimir collects ceramic unicorns.” Hook called out from the piano, to more excited yells as the dude Zac had hit with a frying pan—and the one in the largest fur coat—held up the tiniest, most delicate pieces of craftsmanship anyone in that room had seen with a smile of pure childish wonder.

“Seriously?” 

“You’ve done nothing but complain since we started talking.” Hook stopped playing, standing up from the piano and approaching Emily with a renewed menacing stare. “Do you have a dream?”

Emily thought for a long moment, slowly growing more uncomfortable as the crowd silently waited on her. “...live alone on a secluded isle with enough money to retire?” 

Several of the thugs booed.

“She sucks, but if it helps you out at all you can keep her.” Hook commented casually as he turned back to Zac on the table, who let out a loud, “Hooray!” that led to another round of cheering from the crowd that only cut off when the door slammed open.

“I brought the guards!” The guy who ran out earlier, Greno, reappeared, out of breath and with a proud smile.

Everyone turned to look at each other.

Well, shit.

Emily didn’t say anything before she grabbed Zac by the arm and pulled him around behind the bar and ducked them both down out of sight, Lou hissing angrily at her but getting the message to be silent as a host of royal guards burst into the tavern.

“Where’s Axford?” One of them shouted, getting stopped by the entire crowd who kept all of the guards from getting more than a few steps inside no matter how hard they shoved. “Where is she?!”

Emily stole one glance over the counter to see if she could find a way for them to get out through the front door, only to see the brothers she’d left behind trailing along with the guards, in custody.

Well, double shit. They were so fucked—

A hook lightly tapped her on the shoulder, her turning to look at Hook. He gestured with his head for her and Zac to follow him, the three scooting across the floor as quietly as they could while the other thugs distracted the guards. Hook reached up and pulled on one of the taps at the bar that opened a small wooden door on the far back wall.

“Go, live your dream.” Hook smiled at the two of them and motioned into the passage, keeping his voice down.

“Thanks, I will.” Emily sighed in relief.

“Not you. Your dream stinks.” Hook frowned, thumbing over at Zac. “I was talking to him.”

Zac grinned and followed a dejected Emily into the tunnel, keeping a tight grip on his frying pan. He had a sinking suspicion he was going to need it if he continued traveling with Emily. Lou agreed.

Hook stood up after the trapdoor closed and snuck out from behind the bar, just as a new, late-arriving knight barreled through the door and into the tavern.

“Where is she?!” Brown quiff wildly destroyed from all of his running and falling into his eyes as he stood with his sword out, he surveyed the room with expertly sharp eyes and a heaved breath. “I know she’s here!”

“Sir Murphy, we’ve already looked everywhere!” Another knight spoke up, nervous, earning a glare for his comment.

“If you haven’t found her, you haven’t looked everywhere.” Murph wasn’t going to stand for losing her again, after her trail went cold in the woods. If he let this lead go cold too, he could lose her for good and there was no way he could let her get away with that. His gaze finally landed on the duck-shaped tap at the end of the bar, spotting a tiny matching decal on the wall behind it. He strode over to it and pushed on it, opening up the secret passage on the back wall with a triumphant—and maybe a little manic, “Ah-ha!”

“A passage!” The guard seemingly in charge called out, Murph already vaulting over the bar and disappearing inside. The rest of the knights were quick to follow, leaving one behind with the brothers to keep an eye on them. “Conli! Make sure those two don’t escape!”

Once the door to the passage shut, the knight in charge of looking after things was punched hard in the head and had his weapon stolen, the rest of the thugs in the bar anxiously hearing them plot to go after the guards—and Emily, and by extension Zac.

One particularly drunk patron in the form of a short old man stumbled outside instead of listening to them, running into a hooded figure who seemed to be watching the commotion through the only window on the front of the building.

“Oh… we have another visitor today!” He hiccuped a little, laughing to himself and absentmindedly humming the tune Hook was playing on the piano. “We must be popular!”

“Haha, yeah.” Brennan laughed politely, thoroughly unamused as he pushed back his hood. 

He left Zac alone for one day, and he’d already caused this much chaos? If he wanted to see the outside so badly, fine. He’d play along. 

Drawing a dagger he always kept on hand for emergencies, he aimed it at the drunk man’s throat as he demanded, “Where does that tunnel let out?”

#tangled au #tangled #college humor #collegehumor #dropout tv #dimension 20 #d20 #zac oyama #emily axford #brian murphy #fanfic #fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #angst #fluff #just learned some of the “pub thugs” don't have names #or they do but they're like “big nose” and “hook hand” #like okay #I guess #WHY ARE THEY LEFT OUT #anyway enjoy the update #I'm gonna go play stardew

[flowerfan2]

Now complete!  A story about what makes a home, and how Steve and Eddie fell in love in theirs.

Read the last/latest chapter here, or read from the beginning on A03.

Chapter 6

Hawkins’ civic-minded citizens have a tradition of gathering together on its townwide election day to watch the results from each precinct come in.  It’s supposed to be a celebration of democracy, of the town’s ability to work together, to support each other, win or lose.  But Eddie looks less celebratory and more like he’s about to be tried for ritual murder.

“Whose idea was this anyway?” Eddie grumbles, seated on a folding chair in the crowded lobby of town hall.

“Pretty sure it was yours,” Steve replies, sitting down next to him and balancing a paper plate filled with store-bought cookies on his lap.  The snacks are definitely not tonight’s main attraction, but Steve has a bottle of champagne in his backpack that he’s hoping will come in handy later.

“This is agony,” Eddie mutters into Steve’s good ear.  “What if I lose?  Everyone will know.”

“Hate to break it to you, but that’s kind of how elections work,” Steve says softly, putting the plate of cookies down on the floor and scooting closer to Eddie.  “You’ll be okay.”

“I should have listened to Wayne,” Eddie moans despairingly.  Wayne had laughed out loud when he heard that Eddie was running for Town Meeting, although since then he’s spent more hours holding Eddie’s campaign signs on street corners than any of them.  

Nancy and Robin join them, Robin wearing half a dozen “Eddie For Town Meeting” pins on her suspenders, and holding a basket with about three dozen more.  Eddie had insisted on having pins, claiming they made it all worthwhile, although at the moment even the eye-catching buttons with his name on them don’t cheer him up.

“Any news?” Steve asks Robin, as Eddie hides his face behind his hair.  Steve is dying to fix it, he’s got a hair tie on his wrist that is calling Eddie’s name, but Eddie seems to need to chew on it more than he needs the style points.

“Jonathan and Argyle say lots of people from Forest Hills came out to vote, and they remember a lot of them from Eddie’s coffees last month, so hopefully they’re voting for him and not against him,” Robin says.  Jonathan and Argyle were volunteering at the polls for Precinct 2, where Eddie lives, and have been feeding them tidbits of news all day.  

“That’s encouraging,” Steve says, shuffling his chair closer to Eddie’s and putting his arm around his shoulders.  “You did great at those coffees.  Everyone loved talking to you.”  Eddie just shakes his head behind his curtain of hair.

“It’s true,” Nancy says.  “You were well-spoken, and endearingly charming, and chatted intelligently about all the issues of importance to the residents of Hawkins.  You even talked with Martha about her garden and the evils of light pollution.”  She pokes him in the arm until he looks up.  “Sit up and relax, no one’s out to get you.”

Eddie complies, sighing and pushing his hair out of his face.  “I just don’t know how I got here, that’s all.  When I was a teenager everyone hated me, and now – now the police chief is hosting coffees for me at his house.”

“Okay, first, it’s not true that everyone hated you,” Steve says.

“Hopper definitely did.”

“You were selling drugs-”

“<i>Allegedly</i>.”

“And to be fair,” Nancy adds, “Joyce Byers hosted the coffee, not Chief Hopper.  That would be a conflict of interest.”

Steve snorts.  “Did you read that in a rule book somewhere?”

“I am the treasurer for this campaign, do you think I didn’t read the regs?”

Robin laughs.  “It’s like you don’t even know her, Steve.”

Dustin and his friends come over and surround Eddie, shoving each other out of the way for a chance to talk to him.  Introducing Eddie to Steve’s middle school gremlins had been a huge success, and they had all taken to him like ducklings to water.  Except noisier.  The weekly D&D game had become a regular thing, although now they held it on a weeknight so that Eddie didn’t have to take time away from work.  Steve knows how much Eddie has enjoyed it, seeing all these kids – including Max – take such pleasure in something that always gave him joy.  In a world that doesn’t treat unusual kids kindly, it feels good to help this group find a place where they belong.

Eddie’s decision to run for Town Meeting didn’t surprise Steve at all.  Even after Eddie was done with his presentation, he came to most of the Centerscape committee meetings, sitting through debates on lighting, and the placement of benches, and the shape of bike racks.  He listened patiently as the final plan was approved in committee, and showed up at the meeting where all of the members approved it.

Now the project is entering its next phase, which involves figuring out exactly how and when construction will take place, and Eddie’s still there at almost every meeting.

“I guess I’m invested in it now,” Eddie told Steve after one particularly combative session where Mr. Melvald and other business owners argued for hours about how construction was going to impede the flow of tourists and residents to their stores and restaurants and therefore should be put off until the economy improved.  The mood was finally lightened (at least for Steve and Eddie) when one speaker made the plainly ridiculous suggestion that the usual bright orange safety cones should be replaced with ones in brown or green so that they wouldn’t clash with the look of the town, and Mr. Hagen promptly called for the end to the night’s meeting.

Bizarrely, Steve even got a little jealous when he found out that Eddie was sitting in on other committee meetings.  He understood Eddie’s interest in the Commission on Disability, but had not anticipated that he’d want to go to the bicycle advisory committee meetings with Jonathan… even riding his bike with Jonathan and Argyle on weekends to scope out proposed changes to the ever-debated bike lanes.  It hadn’t taken Eddie long to realize why Steve was grumpy about it, however, and Eddie quickly put any fears Steve had of losing someone else to Jonathan to rest (over a long evening date which included a romantic dinner and Eddie demonstrating just how much he <i>appreciated</i> Steve).

There’s a rumble of noise from the front of the room, and Steve looks up to see that Precinct 2’s results have come in.  One of the election monitors is typing quickly into her laptop, and the results are displayed on a screen on the wall for everyone to see.

Eddie grabs Steve’s arm hard enough to bruise and head butts his shoulder.  “I can’t look.”

Steve scans the results, and doesn’t have to get to the number of votes listed next to Eddie’s name to know he made it in, because Nancy and Robin break into a loud cheer.

“You did it, Munson,” Steve says, pulling Eddie into a hug.  “Congrats.  You did it.”

Nancy and Robin join in, and Dustin and some of the other kids pile on too, until the whole group of them is about to knock Eddie off of his chair.

“All right, all right, I get it, thanks.”  Eddie is blushing furiously, and it intensifies as Wayne comes over and gives him a hug of his own.

“Well done, kid.”

“I can’t believe it,” Eddie says.  He’s smiling like crazy, and Steve just wants to eat him up.

“It’s not that weird,” Dustin says.  “I mean, five out of the seven of you were going to get in.  The statistics were way in your favor.”

“Yeah, and that old guy with the straggly beard never had a chance,” Max says, always eager to rile Eddie up.  “Even you’re better looking than he is.  So really, you just had to beat one other person-”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Steve says, taking Eddie’s hand and swinging it between them.  “He won ‘cause he deserves it, and you all know it.”

“Is it time for the party yet?”  Max responds, undaunted.  “Because these cookies suck.”

Eddie exchanges a quick glance with Steve, his smile stretching his cheeks.  “This <i>is</i> the party, sorry about that.”

“Whatever.”

Eddie gives Steve’s hand a squeeze and goes off to talk to the other Precinct 2 Town Meeting members, old and new, and shake hands with the guy with the straggly beard and the other candidate who didn’t make it, a friendly woman who doesn’t seem particularly upset about the results.

Steve watches Eddie make small talk with townies and newcomers alike, his wayward curls dancing as he waves his arms to make a point, probably already getting excited about new ways to make Hawkins an even better place to live.  Once all the results have come in and the excitement has died down, Steve is going to take Eddie home and show him just how impressed he is by his boyfriend.  

Eddie has brought a light into Steve’s life that he never though he’d find, a love so strong that Steve knows it’s real.  He can feel it in his very bones, on good days and bad, and it fills him with an almost overwhelming joy to know Eddie feels it too.  It’s kind of strange that it all happened because Steve decided to join Town Meeting, but whether it was meant to be or they just got really lucky, Steve’s not going to question it.  Instead he’s going to make sure Eddie knows how much he’s loved, and work together every day to build a home they can be proud of.

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Wayne Munson #Stranger Things fic #Stranger Things

[cittythekitten]

Name: Slayer Age: (Unknown) Height: Same as Abyss Likes: Animals, anything sweet, food, beverages, treats, fluffy things, killing, meats (including humans), bloodshed, sharp objects, hurt others, getting hurt, sleeping, hibernating, playing, making deadly contraptions, makes weapons, attention, laser pointer, catnip (so far, this is what I can reveal) Dislikes: Humans, monsters (except those with CELLs), bitter foods or beverages, betrayal, mockery, anyone who hurt his friends (except he doesn't have one), dishonest, getting trolled or pranked, (so far, this is what I can reveal) Facts about him: He is very cheerful and energetic. He is very polar from Abyss who is grumpy and sassy. He likes napping and sleeping. He will hibernate during winter season. He will try his best to stay optimistic. Despite his kind nature, Slayer can be very ruthless. He won't show any mercy to his preys. He likes torturing them until they die. He always makes weapons and contraptions to kill his prey (much like Jigsaw). Surprisingly, he won't attack those who has CELLs. It is still unknown why. He has a very keen sense of smell and hearing. He can smell a drop of blood from hundreds feels away but if there's factors like wind, he can smell them from miles away. He is extremely fast on air, trees and land. He prefers to ambush his preys. His preys includes humans, monsters and animals. Though, he doesn't torture animals. He will kills them immediately unlike to humans or monsters. He enjoys anything sweet (hopefully he doesn't get any diabetes). He can be very loyal and caring once you get his trust. He is isolated in a forest far away from civilization. He has a weird obsession with killing. Don't be fooled by his cuteness because he won't hesitate to torture you. He still have some abilities like Abyss and has CELL. How is he born? He doesn't know. How is he created? He doesn't have a clue. His first memory is waking up all alone in a dark forest. A human tried helping him thinking he's hurt but for some reason, his instincts tells him to kill the human and so he did. Sometimes, he would use his cuteness to lure people. He doesn't know what's good or bad. He cannot read or write. He can barely understand English. He doesn't know a lot of words. He wants to be good but he doesn't know how to be good. He used to live in a box beside a pedestrian near a forest. Slayer is very territorial. He will defend his forest and can be feisty protecting his land. People has called the forest he resides as the "Blood Tears Forest". He can also do creepy things like walking upside down and twist his head 360°. Personality:

Normal: Cheerful, optimistic, childish, crybaby, energetic, inquisitive, curious, he is like a cat, caring and loyal Murder Mode: Blood thirsty, ruthless, cruel, sadistic and masochistic (he likes hurting others and being hurt including getting his arm cut off) Basically the plot: After Abyss gave him some clothes and food, Slayer suddenly follows him thinking Abyss had adopted him (XD). He somehow managed to enter Abyss's room and scared him. Abyss kicked him out of his room but Slayer stays outside his window which is kind of creepy. One day, Abyss went out for a walk and Slayer follows him like a little duckling. To get Slayer stop following him, Abyss planted a few seeds that was boiled and told Slayer to guard it until it blooms a flower. Slayer did as he was told and guard the boiled seeds. Abyss did not expect him to be so dense and dumb so he left. The next day, Abyss had a bad feeling and went to see Slayer. To his surprise, Slayer is still guarding the seeds like an idiot. Slayer was starving but he still guard the seeds. Abyss scolded him for starving himself but Slayer doesn't understand why he was being scolded and cries. From that on, Abyss had to educate Slayer so he doesn't go off killing humans or monsters to extinction. He doesn't enjoy educating him because Slayer can get distracted easily. Plus, he needs to find medical supplies for his brother. Abyss forbid Slayer to kill or use his contraptions or else he won't give Slayer foods. Abyss had been supplying foods for Slayer such as muffins. From that on, Slayer stops eating raw meats and waits patiently for Abyss to bring him food. One day, Slayer wanted Abyss to pinky promise him that he will be his friend but Abyss refused. Abyss made a deal with Slayer that he will feed and educate Slayer until he is fully capable of taking care of himself. After that, they will part their ways. It is still unknown how he have CELL and Determination. Extra info: Slayer has evolved into something that is similar to an apex predator. He has an instincts to keep the food chain balance and sees humans and monsters (mostly humans) have caused destruction to the environment. He has a pair of wings that is a lot more robust and deadlier than Abyss's. He has a tail that only visible in his Savage Mode. He can change into his Savage Mode when needed. He has three modes: Normal mode, Bloodlust Mode and Savage Mode. Undertale by Toby Fox Original Killer!Abyss design by MetaKazkz Killer by Rahafwabas Reimagined Killer!Abyss / Slayer by me

#cittys art #undertale #sans #abyss!sans #killer!abyss #reimagined killer!abyss #slayer #slayer's ref sheet #for now #finally making a proper ref sheet for my boi #he is very mysterious and precious #basically the story is how a 15 years old tries to educate another 15 years old #I changed his design a little bit #he has belts to store his daggers now!! #abyss gave him the belts after he tore holes in his pockets and abyss is tired of sewing it over and over again